Taking it all down, real quick-like.
Septimus finally made it in to the doctor for his 4 month checkup/shots. Here's a little secret about our family: we never go to the doctor. Most people think it's because Rob treats the kids, but that's not it. Yes, it's nice to have a doctor on "staff" who can give the thumbs up or thumbs down to the doctor visit, but honestly, I am usually the one making the call about it anyway. Plus, our doctor's office is 40 minutes away so it's like a small expedition to get all the kids there.
Our kids' checkups are always late, I haven't had a postpartum checkup since Sally (!!! bad, not recommended, but in my defense, I was usually going in for a prenatal checkup so I figured I could skip the postpartum one), and when the kids are sick we have the 4 Day Rule.
If they are still lingering with a high (like really high) fever (or other persistent, strange looking ailment like a rash or cough) after 4 days then we'll take them in. Otherwise, they just stay home. In almost 14 years of kiddies we've only had to observe the 4 day rule twice: once for pneumonia and once for Lyme disease.
I wouldn't say my kids are extraordinarily healthy; they have normally functioning immune systems for which I am grateful. I will admit to being extraordinarily anti-hot-mess-in-the-doctor's-office, though. I think it's because Rob works there and I hate going in to face his partners like a crazy combo of Mrs. Rochester/the old woman who lived in a shoe. I just can't deal.
I've started using an all natural kind of deodorant because the skin under my arms has become ridiculously sensitive in the past 2 years. I don't know why, but I get all rashy and itchy with regular old deodorant, even the unscented kind.
As I was reading the back of the stick, I saw this: "For your health, no perfumes, dyes, or flavorings added."
Is that a problem with other deodorants? Flavor additives? I don't think I want to know.
I enjoy a great blog/texting relationship with Nicole from As Many As We're Given. I think we've "known" each for 6 years now (!!!), and it is a dream of ours to meet up one day. Well, a dream of mine. She might want to duck and cover.
Anyway, we were involved in a text-versation during lunch the other day, so my text chime was going off frequently. Finally, Bun was overcome with curiosity and we had the following exchange:
"Mom, who are you talking to with all these texts?"
"It's someone that I know from the computer. I'm texting Mrs. 'Smith'" [I can't remember if she's shared her full last name on the blog or not]
"Oh, I know her! She's the one from Massachusetts and we met at the hotel and then went bowling!"
"No, honey, that's Mrs. Martin."
"Oh. How many friends do you have in the computer?"
Between Facebook and blogging, sometimes it feels like they all live there.
Rob and I have been saving money for a while for a certain home improvement project. We had a contractor come out this week to price out the project, but it turns out we were off on the amount the project would take. Way, way off.
So off, in fact, that when I got the estimate I gasped and started to cry a little. It was a completely ridiculous reaction which I blame partly on my screwy hormones (yes, still simmering down postpartum), and partly on the fact that I had my heart really set on one course of action.
I do our household budget and bill paying, so it is not often that I am this wrong about what things cost. We have saved a pretty good sum and it's not even half of the estimate total. We don't want to borrow any money for the project, so we are tabling it for now. Probably for a long time, actually, and we are setting our sites on much smaller projects around the house that we can now afford to do.
(And I know we can get other estimates, but I don't think the news would be much better unless they let trained monkeys do the work. I basically have trained monkeys here, so forget that.)
It's been a long time in the waiting room, but finally The Doctor Is In.
on Sally's desire to join cheerleading for the CYO(Catholic Youth Organization):
Me: "The squad is not affiliated with any team. I mean, who are they even cheering for?!"
on Bun holding up two crayons and asking which was better for his picture:
"This is really not the question to be asking your color blind parent."
on having 7 kids:
"When I was younger, I always thought if I got married I'd end up having 4 daughters. Maybe that was God's way of preparing me. If so, he forgot to mention the 3 sons He was planning to sneak in there."
The state obsession continues unabated. Bun has now officially freaked out at least one parent at the preschool by reciting the states and their capitals on the way to the May Procession. Thanks to his scarily accurate memory, this woman is now thinking her daughter is woefully behind.
Honey, this is the kid who walks around with his hand down his pants 95% of the time and tells his brother to punch him in the arm as hard as he can. Don't sweat it, your girl is lovely and normal.
Besides, Bun has crazily competitive older siblings who drill him on the U.S. atlas just for kicks and giggles. Not everyone has that kind of training staff.
I had all the kids except Francie at Bun's baseball game this week. Happily, we were at our home field, which is 2 minutes from the house and the weather was great. Cool temps, but no wind, which is crucial out on that open field.
Fiver and Sally spent the whole time in the adjacent park and the little girls played in the grass while Septimus slept in the stroller. Once the game was over, I packed everyone back in the car for the quick ride home.
As I was driving, the sun was setting and throwing golden shafts of light on the cornfields passing by the windows. The cool air was rushing through the car, the kids were chatting about school and baseball, and it suddenly hit me that I was right where I've always wanted to be.
Sometimes I am blessed with moments of extreme clarity. It is a sort of detachment on my part, and I wish it happened more often than it does. During that car ride home, while I watched the light playing on the fields, I was filled with the knowledge that I was perfectly at home -- right down to the grass and the air and the people and the chatter and the work and the struggle and the joy.
My cup runneth over. I'm beyond grateful.