Monthly Archives: July 2008

07.06.08
by

Sometimes a little information is a dangerous thing

Mary has been sick for the last three or four days. This morning, she woke up with a rash. I used a handy reference book I have with a flow chart, and I concluded, based on the questions answered as best as I could, that she has measles.

Now she’s not even 9 months old, and children are not routinely immunized for measles until one year, so she does not have that protection.

Online, I researched measles and found this site with a drawing of a child with measles. Her rash is no where near that dark, but it does have that same mottled look.

Measles, though, is not something that spontaneously springs from your body. You have to get it somewhere. Since it is spread through coughing and sneezing, I know that I could have picked up virus droplets in any public place and transferred them to her. She could have picked them up in a grocery cart or while banging her hands on the church pew.

Looking at measles cases in the U.S. brought me to this article from last month which states that there have been 72 cases of measles so far this year (and this article shows that one person in Fairfax, VA, which is in my general vicinity, brought measles over from India).

There is one comment on the News-Medical article:

I would rather my autistic son had died of measles than live the shadow of a life that he is destined for with his condition. Autism robbed him of his soul.

This is so sad. I cannot imagine the difficulties of raising an autistic child, especially one who seemed normal and suddenly had problems. I also cannot imagine the emptiness of losing a child. I do not think the grass is green on either side of this fence.

I don’t really think that Mary has measles. The virus that has given her a fever for several days now was given to her by her siblings, two of whom have not been immunized for measles and neither of whom broke out in any rash. Besides that, she just hasn’t seemed very sick. Sick, but not measly.

I’ll keep an eye on her, and I’ll pray that she gets better soon. And I’ll pray for the autistic son and his parents, that they find healing: if not physical, then emotional.

07.06.08
by

Katie-isms

Said earnestly:

“Mommy! I taught Mary how to count to ten! I said one, and she said Eh! I said two, and she said Eh! I said three, and she said Eh! …”

***************

At the dinner table:

“I am going to do something inappropriate.”

belch

Do I thank her for the warning? Chastise her for her vulgar behavior? Praise her for an excellent word choice? And can you tell she has older brothers?

**************

Months ago, the kids all received brown scapulars at Little Flowers and Blue Knights. These are plasticy, rosary ones with a crucifix and tiny knots along the whole length. It’s sized for an adult, too, so when worn, hangs well below a child’s waist. Of all my kids, Katie has persisted longest in wearing hers. She has never taken it off: not in the bath, not at the pool.

Yesterday, I took her to a ballet class to see what level was good for her and if she liked it. I warned her that she might not be able to wear the scapular during class.

Tearfully, she said, “But Mommy, I promised God I would never take it off!”

So sweet!

But when I saw her in her leotard, I really felt that it shouldn’t be worn. Not only did it protrude in the back and hang obviously around her neck, it bulged in the front where the excess length pooled around her tummy. I gently told her to take it off just for class. I felt horrible.

Anybody else have to deal with something like this? Scapulars are meant to be worn under clothing. They aren’t intended for public display. The leotard is a standard leotard and not immodest (for a leotard), but you can’t wear anything under a leotard without it being noticed.

I myself struggled with this issue when I was going to a military ball with Bill. My medal scapular hung low on my neck, but looked really silly outside my dress or inside and partially exposed. I finally bought a pretty necklace with a short string of blue freshwater pearls and a small silver cross.

Perhaps for Katie I should stitch a small woolen scapular inside her leotard?

07.03.08
by

Let’s get one thing straight

I get a little annoyed when my kids throw garbage on the floor of the van. Normally, I discourage the consumption of food and drink while driving, and my kids know not to even ask for ketchup if they are lucky enough to get a drive-through meal. Despite this, the floor of the van looks like the inside of my toaster mixed with a city street following a ticker-tape parade.

I persevere in my efforts to keep the van in order, and even on our long journey East reminded my children to be tidy. At one stop, I handed out lollipops and waved a plastic bag at Jenny. “This is for trash,” I told her as I placed it within arm’s reach.

Back on the road, I hear Peter announce matter-of-factly: “Garbage!” He’s my best one for keeping things neat and putting trash in the proper receptacles. But he couldn’t reach the trash bag.

When his words fell on deaf ears, he repeated it: “Garbage!”

Nothing.

“Garbage!”

Nothing.

“Garbage!” Same tone, same volume, same response. The kids were engrossed in a video and all other sights and sounds were blocked.

Up front, I had finally had enough. I turned the volume down on the movie (that always gets their attention), and said, “Jenny! Please take the trash from your brother. You have the bag.”

“I.am NOT.the GARBAGE WOMAN!”

Well, now. Peter threw the wrapper on the floor.

07.02.08
by

Birthday Do-Over

Petey was in a moderately better mood today. We have had some virus pass through the family – fever and headache – and he did have it. His whole world has been turned upside down with the stress of moving, vacationing in strange places with strange people, and now setting up shop in a new locale. And unlike his siblings, he doesn’t remember the old friends we’re seeing again.

It’s rough.

But by the time came for cake today, he was plenty happy and ready for the singing of songs and the blowing out of candles.

Let’s talk about that cake, shall we? Poor pathetic cake.

I really planned to make it through all my children’s birthdays with just a plain old cake. Maybe some sprinkles. Good enough for me as a kid, good enough for them, right?

But somewhere along the way (recently), I got it into my head that I could do something fancier. How hard could it be?

Well…

I’ve watched Ace of Cakes a few times, and never have I seen six little monkeys and a dog running wild through the shop. Nor have I seen a clingy infant or a miserable tot hanging to a baker’s leg as he tries to put the batter in the oven.

That a 13 x 9 pan of cake batter got baked was the first miraculous accomplishment. Then when the birthday boy saw me cutting the cake into a car shape, he pretty much lost it. His older sister had in her head that I was putting matchbox cars on top of the cake (Billy had put pinewood derby cars on a cake for Scouts), so she convinced him that was the plan. I kept correcting them, but to no avail.

I should have just put the cars on the cake. Much easier. Fewer tears all around.

Somehow I managed to get the cake iced. I think the older kids were left to amuse the baby, and I plunked Peter on the counter and told him that I was going to ice his cake whether he liked it or not. He watched. He licked icing. He declared it, and the cake, good.

But the kitchen was hot and humid and there are few spots safe from the beast, so I put the cake in the freezer, which was fine, except that the plate it was on was too big to fit next to the ice maker, so it was sort of balanced on top of some partially empty Popsicle boxes in order to fit.

Okay, so yes, I am the one who booby-trapped the freezer for an unsuspecting 4 year old who only wanted to get a pancake out. We didn’t have that cake after dinner, so it stayed there all night, waiting for it’s victim. This morning, she opened the freezer door, and out it tumbled to the ground shattering the dish.

I wept. It was only 830 in the morning.

Fortunately, the cake was frozen, so I could salvage it, sort of.

We have two birthdays coming in August. Oh boy, I can’t wait to see what adventures they bring to my kitchen.
07.02.08
by

New Month’s Resolution for July

You’ll be pleased to know, I did, in fact, successfully keep my June resolution. I also increased Bill’s life insurance policy, and make no promises of a similar nature for July.

Just kidding.

I didn’t really change his life insurance policy.

This month, I resolve to spend at least 5 minutes every weekday straightening my desk. On a good day, my desk looks like this. I’m tired of it.

I was going to resolve to spend 15 minutes every day on it. But I try to keep things realistic. Not every day, I thought. Not the weekends. Okay, weekdays.

Not fifteen minutes, I argued. Surely ten is fine. No, wait, if I do it every weekday, surely five is more than sufficient.

Besides, I can have high standards, and fail…or low standards and succeed. And this month, I’m in need of some low standards. Five minutes a weekday it is.

Of course, federal holidays are excluded.

What is a New Month’s Resolution? Every month I look at where I need to focus my attention. Perhaps I’ve been procrastinating on certain chores. Perhaps I need to spend some extra time with one or more of the kids. Perhaps I’d like to try a new habit. New Month’s Resolutions are not grandiose plans to lose ten pounds or declutter the entire house or give up smoking (of course, I don’t smoke, but if I did, this would not be the venue in which I would give it up). New Month’s resolutions are short-term commitments; they are easily attained goals; they focus on what is needed right now, instead of what is best for a lifetime.

Do you have a new month’s resolution?