Easter

So, I have a little problem.  

"Little?" you think. 

Sarcasm is not helpful here.

My problem is that I declared on my blog (i.e. to the world as a whole) that I would be posting more often.  What that small declaration has lead me to is a realization that my life is not fraught with excitement.   For instance, today I took the girls to get their haircut.  That is really not worthy of blogging.  (Can you believe there was a time when our days were NOT measured by their blogging potential?  Me either.)  Maybe if it was their FIRST haircut... but it wasn't.  We have done this many times before.  Maybe if I had tinted their hair various colors.  But... I didn't.  Ellie got an orange barrette in her hair - a butterfly.  Not that interesting.  I didn't even take a picture.  Maybe if there had been singing or dancing by the beauticians, or my children for that matter, but again, there wasn't. By either.  

After the girls got their haircut I took them to McDonald's for a treat.  Still not worth mentioning really. (although I still will - mention it I mean)  We got our food.  We ate our food.  Ellie sat in the booth behind us and cried.  (I chose to sit between her and Liv instead of sitting on the other side of Ellie so I wouldn't be by Liv at all. Dad sat by himself on the other side of the table with its incredibly long bench trying not too feel too unwanted.)  Liv sat next to me and moaned that we were eating too slow and she couldn't "sit here this lo-o-o-o-o-ong".  (I didn't realize sitting required so much energy.)  Ashton ate his nuggets and grunted periodically when they got stuck in his ketchup cup.

But then!!!  I had a sudden moment of inspiration and I thought about the following. 

This is our Easter story (hence the title).

The Grayson children scored big this Easter.  Not "big" as in lots of presents but "big" as in awesome, rock your world presents.  Yes, the Easter Bunny knows my children well.  They all got candy, of course.  (Note: Ashton likes na-nee, very much.)  They also all got kites and - wait for it - nail polish.  Ok, Ashton did not get nail polish.  He got a puzzle but he is only 1 and doesn't really care that much anyway.  The girls however, were in heaven.  AND!  As if the nail polish were not enough, they also got little flower stickers to put on their nails once the paint was dry.  Red for Ellie and Pink for Liv.  It was such a good gift getting session that the girls disappeared with nary a complaint.  I finally had to call them for dinner.

Side note here:  How often have your children disappeared for an hour without a peep?  Me either.

Back to my story.  I called them to dinner.  Ashton and Liv came right away.  Ellie eventually showed up and informed me  that she was going to be a little late for dinner because she had to finish her toes.  I paused and thought a moment.  Finish? That can't be good.  I looked down and sure enough all 10 finger nails (to the first knuckle on some) and 5 toes were painted.  I panicked.  

"Where did you paint them Ellie?"  I asked with a note of hysteria in my voice.  Ellie picked up on my panic at once and stopped talking to me.  "Anything you say can and will be used against you in a court of law" was, I'm sure, what she was thinking.

"Please, Ellie.  You're not in trouble.  Just, please tell mommy where you did your nails?" I pleaded.

"Your closet" was the whispered answer.

I flew across the house to my carpeted closet and found.... nothing.  There was the polish - open - and the stickers, but nothing had spilled.  I am not sure how my 4 year old managed to get the bottle open and paint 15 of her 20 appendages without spilling a drop.  The carpet gods were smiling.

Here is a picture of Ellie's first attempt at self beautification.  She didn't do too bad.

books

Ok, I have a favor to ask the blogging community, or at least those that read my blog.  I have just finished reading the twilight books for the second time and am tempted to begin again mostly because I have run out of ideas.

So in this vein I am asking for your help.  If you are reading this could you give me your 10 favorite books or authors (which is how I usually decide)?  In return here are some of mine.  These are just fun books, of course if we are talking about life altering books the scriptures would be top of the list.  (In no particular order.)  

1. Twilight books

2. The Alchemist (small, simple read that for me was very profound)

3.  Spencer books by Robert Parker (these are PI books that are also simple reads but they are great get away books)

4. Harry Potter

5. The Prey books by John Sandford (these are very disturbing books - definitely rated R.  they are all about serial killers and the cop who tracks them.  I love them but they are offensive to some)

6. Wheel of time by Robert Jordan (if you like fantasy)

7. In a Sunburned Country by Bill Bryson (this is actually a travel book - I never read travel books - and was one of the funniest books I have ever read)

8.Much Ado about Nothing by Shakespeare (because I can relate)

9. Memoirs of a Geisha by Arthur Golden (I thought the language was beautiful however parts of the story are hard to read)

10. Timeline by Michael Crichton (this was a great concept - the movie was terrible)

Anyway, this is my list.  It was actually kind of hard to put together because I can't remember all the books I have ever read.  I may do this again sometime.

I have a dream...

**Note:  This post is long.  Really, really long.  Read at your own risk.  (This is what you get when you ask me to post more often.  I can get a little carried away and no one has ever accused me of being succinct.)

"I have a dream that one day this nation will rise up and live out the true meaning of its creed: 'We hold these truths to be self-evident, that all men are created equal.'

I have a dream that one day on the red hills of Georgia, the sons of former slaves and the sons of former slave owners will be able to sit down together at the table of brotherhood.

I have a dream that one day even the state of Mississippi, a state sweltering with the heat of injustice, sweltering with the heat of oppression, will be transformed into an oasis of freedom and justice.

I have a dream that my four little children will one day live in a nation where they will not be judged by the color of their skin but by the content of their character.

I have a dream today!

I have a dream that one day, down in Alabama, with its vicious racists, with its governor having his lips dripping with the words of "interposition" and "nullification" -- one day right there in Alabama little black boys and black girls will be able to join hands with little white boys and white girls as sisters and brothers.

I have a dream today!

I have a dream that one day every valley shall be exalted, and every hill and mountain shall be made low, the rough places will be made plain, and the crooked places will be made straight; 'and the glory of the Lord shall be revealed and all flesh shall see it together.'"

This is, arguably, the most famous speech given by Dr. Martin Luther King Jr. on August 28, 1963.  It is one of my favorite orations of all time.  No matter how many times I hear it or read it, whether partially or in its entirety , it raises goose bumps on my flesh and brings tears to my eyes.  

I love his eloquence.  "With this faith, we will be able to hew out of the mountain of despair a stone of hope."

His simple phrases that inspire humanity to reach to a greater height than they may think possible. "I have a dream that my four little children will one day live in a nation where they will not be judged by the color of their skin but by the content of their character."  (this is my absolute FAVORITE line of the whole address)

His compassion that encourages others to kindness when they have so much reason for hatred.  "Let us not seek to satisfy our thirst for freedom by drinking from the cup of bitterness and hatred."

It is with all these things in mind, with the greatest regard and the upmost respect for the man and his vision that I post the following....

I too have a dream.  Mine is not grandiose.  Mine will not alter the fabric of society nor change the destiny of a nation.  Mine is not filled with the passion of years of injustice, the burning of righteousness or the nobility of truth.  

No, mine will do none of these things.

It is simple. But, to me, it is profound.  I have a dream that one day I may be able to use the bathroom all by myself.

I have a dream that one day I will be able to use the bathroom without a small voice calling to me, "Mommy, did your pee-pees wake up?"

I have a dream that one day I will be able to use the bathroom without someone barging in and announcing passionately, "Mommy, it stinks in here!  I'm getting out of here!"

I have a dream that one day I will be able to use the bathroom without watching the door handle turn and a head pop-in to ask, "Mommy, can you get me some more milk?"  I can't right now.  Obviously.

As I said, it is not profound but it is my little dream.

Pink

Pink is an interesting color.  It brings to mind spring time, Easter, flowers, and bunnies (although I could not begin to tell you WHY pink makes me think of bunnies - I have never seen a pink bunny).

However, this past week my kids have contracted pink eye which, to be perfectly honest, does NOT bring any of the afore mentioned sweetness to mind.  In fact, it brings to mind much nastiness. Pink eye is NOT a symbol of new life and baby animals romping playfully through a meadow.  It is NOT a reminder of time spent with family frolicking in warm spring days.  I do NOT revisit the cotton candy moments of my youth where birds sing, butterflies flutter and kites float lazily on the breeze while children squeal in delight.

  

No, pink eye is none of these things.  Putting the word "pink" in front of the word "eye" does NOT in anyway make the word "eye" more pleasing.  Just the opposite in fact.

Pink eye has made all three of my children look like they have lost boxing matches against really famous boxers whose names I will not even pretend to know.  Their eyes are red and swollen and incredibly foul things leak out of them.  To top it all off I get to line up all of my children for eye drops.  It worked great - the first time.  Now they know it is not a pleasant experience to put stinging, itchy drops in sore eyes.  (You can't say my kids aren't bright.)  As if the drops are not enough the kids are not allowed to touch their eyes.  So here I go...

 I put the drops in. 1 drop 3 times a day.

"Don't touch." I say.

Instantly little hands and even littler fingers leap up to the eye region of the face.  

"Don't touch." I repeat as I attempt to block their ever increasing attempts to reach their eyes.

  Little hands and even littler fingers continue to move with dizzying speed as they eventually break through my defenses and attempt to pop their offending eyeballs out of their ocular cavities.  

"Don't touch." I repeat again as I remove their hands in an attempt to preserve the eye.  

It is at this point that my cute, precious little angels turn into little creatures of pure malice that seek to take my life.

Pink eye is not my friend.

Field trip to the zoo

In the spirit of my brand-new, blog more frequently, resolution, here are pics of the kids at the zoo.  This was their second ever school field trip.  I didn't post pics of the first.  As Aaron would say, "I fail at life".

Here is a pic of the entire class.  Ellie is on the far left of the picture chewing on her Diego sport cup.  Liv is hiding behind the little red headed boy - you can't see her.  Can my kids pose or what?

Ok, seriously.  What is this?  Cheetah?  Jaguar?  Leopard?  How does one tell?  Apparently a trip to the zoo did not help ME at all.

My girls posing again.  They refuse to put down the cups and Ellie wont look up.  So much for a career in TV.

We went to the Wild Zoo which was really a lot of fun.  As you can see the kids are able to get pretty close to the animals.

Sad when the kangaroo poses better than the children.

This was BY FAR the best part of the zoo.  The lorikeet feeding.  The kids were able to hold a piece of an apple and the birds would fly down and eat it right out of their hands.  It was really neat.  Liv loved it.  Ellie, not so much.

Picture of the class before the train ride.

The girls were enthralled by the tortoise (the large, flat, rock looking thing in the upper left hand corner).   Now, I myself am an animal lover and the tortoise was cool and all but this picture captures all the excitement the tortoise has to offer.  This is it.  I finally had to drag them away.  


This was our next big adventure.  Feeding the giraffes.  The girls would not do it so I had to hold them up while I fed the giraffe.  "You will have fun so help me......"

Is it just me or does this camel look dead?  The girls were quite concerned.

I was thinking of doing this with Ashton's hair.  What do you think?

This white tiger was beautiful.  He was sleeping until all the kids came around.  At which point I am thinking, that he was thinking, "Lunch".

Peer-Pressure

So here is the thing about peer-pressure, it never really ends. This seemingly small fact has caught me off guard. I can honestly say, when I was a child, I thought adults were impervious.

I guess I was wrong.

My girls are a bit ........ hmmmm, how to put this nicely, um, competitive? They are competitive. We were driving in the car the other day when my little 4-year-old peanut gallery began to speak.

"Mom? Are you going fast?"
"Mom? Are you going fast?"
"MOM? Are you going FAST?"

"Yes, I am going fast."

"Are we going to pass that car mom? Let's go fast enough to pass that car."
"Let's go fast mom."
"Pass the car mom."
"MOM. GO FAST SO WE CAN PASS THAT CAR."

"Girls, we don't need to pass the car. We are going fast enough."

"Mom, that car is going to pass us."
"Mom, don't let that car pass us."
"Mom, he's getting ahead of us. HE'S BEATING US!!!!"

(slight pause as our crushing defeat takes hold)

.....

"Mom, are we going to win?"
"Are we going to win mom?"

(This is a question that comes up every day. What they mean is, are we going to be the first to get where ever it is we are going or are "they" going to beat us. The underlying assumption here is that everyone on the road is in fact going the same place we are going and "they" want to get there first.)

"Girls I don't know. Not all of these cars are going to your pre-school." (We were at the time going to pre-school.)

They pause while they process this new information. And, at this point you think, "Wow, she is really handling this thing well. Way to not fold under the pressure." Please read on.

"Let's win mom. Look we passed that car. Yea mom!"
"There is another car. Let's see if we can pass that car mom. Go faster mom!"

(It is here that I must admit I can feel my resolve weakening. After all, I DID pass that one car.)

"YEA MOM!!"
"WE PASSED HIM!"
"LET'S GET THERE FIRST MOM!" (Lesson number one of the day was a dismal failure.)
"DON'T LET HIM PASS US!"
"YEA, HE DIDN'T PASS US!"
"Mom, are you going fast?"
"YOU'RE GOING FAST MOM!"
"MOM, YOU'RE GOING TO WIN!!!!!!"

What I am going to win has never been fully discussed. To be perfectly honest it hasn't even been partially discussed but as I looked down I noticed I was going 65 miles an hour in a 40 mile an hour zone. I am a victim of the dread 4-year-old peer pressure. I hang my head in shame.

phhbtt

I know I am a little back logged when it comes to my blog but I just can't seem to keep up my end of the bargain. What bargain you ask? Well, I really don't know. But, I seem to be failing none-the-less.

For so many people 2007 went out with a bang. A party. Streamers, confetti and drinks. At the very least there was a quiet moment as the ball dropped in Time Square. Not so here in the Grayson household. Ours was more of a phhbtt sort of noise.

Ashton had been sick with a nagging cough for about 2 weeks when I decided to take him to the doctors. Not what I had scheduled for Christmas Eve but I had apparently forgotten to show Ashton what I had planned so it was my fault. Double ear infection was the diagnosis and tasty pink medicine the cure. Ashton was thrilled. Yummy pink "mu" twice a day. The girls were jealous. "Mom, I have a bad cough (cough, cough, choke, choke sounds here). I need some medicine." Nice try!

So dawns New Years Eve day with all it's promises of "out with the old and in with the new". That day where you can contemplate all that the past year has brought and all the things the New Year might bring. That exciting day when you get to sit around thinking about how tomorrow you will get to write 2008 on your checks instead of 2007. New Years Eve has it all really. The past, present and future all rolled up into one glorious day of sunshine. (A little carried away?)

Well, our New Years Eve day began like all others. We ate, we played, and Brock went to work. He called me on his way home and I began to tell him how great our morning had been but how Ashton was having a rough afternoon. During my iterations Ashton began to cry. I, of course, ignored him. I was on the phone and he was not being pleasant. He cried a little harder and I ignored a little more. He began to REALLY cry and I told Brock I should go. "I just don't know what his problem is the afternoon" I told Brock. I sent Brock my love, hung up the phone, and turned to Ashton. He had vomited all over himself. Well, there goes my mother of the year award. So close and yet so far away.

You know, as a mom I feel as if I should be able to handle any difficulty. Any nasty that may come my way. After all, isn't that what mom's do? Do we not handle all those things that others cringe at? Well, to be honest I didn't see the vomit coming. "Now what do I do?" I thought. I really should comfort him, but ... yuck. So I did what - I hope - all moms have done at one time or another. I put on rubber gloves to touch my son. I just couldn't bring myself to do it any other way. So there I was, rubber gloves pulled up to my elbows, hands in the air, approaching my sick son. Compassion is my middle name. To prove this I striped him naked right there in his chair and carried him, held out in front of me, to the bath.

In my defense, once he was clean I cuddled and cuddled him. I even called Brock and told him he was on for dinner prep. I believe we ate out that night.

New Years day and the day after were much like New Years Eve. I sat and cuddled. On Saturday it became clear he was not going to get over the fever himself so we went BACK to the doctors. Double ear infection and the beginnings of pneumonia. Not what I was wanting to hear. It had been a really rough week. Ashton had gotten sick a couple more times. He wouldn't eat or drink very much. He wouldn't play and NEVER (I really can't stress NEVER enough here) wanted to be put down. He didn't just want to be held. He wanted to be held while I walked singing his favorite tunes and rubbing his back. Well, don't we all want that? He cried all the time. It was, for me, a revisitation of the first 5 months of his life when he would cry non-stop for hours at a time.

So there I was, sitting in the doctor’s office with my crying son getting ready to do a "breathing treatment". For those of you who have never experienced the first breathing treatment, it is a thing of pure agony. Ashton couldn't breath as easily as he was used to and I wanted to put a mask on his face.

Let me take a minute here to explain my thoughts on evolution and Darwinism. People generally don't like to have things on their faces. Especially when they are already having a hard time breathing. Natural instinct kicks in when mouth and nose are covered simultaneously. Those people who do not have this inclination are dead. It is called survival of the fittest - or brightest. Evolution. Darwinism.

Ashton has evolved. He kicked and screamed. My little 1-year-old baby had super human strength. I could barely hold him let alone keep the mask on his face. He turned multiple colors and contorted himself in ways I didn't think were possible. It was the longest 20 minutes of my life. By the end we were both crying and sweating profusely. It is at this point the doctor reappeared looking sympathetically at my face. "They usually don't like the first time" she told me. "Don't like?” I thought. That has got to be the understatement of the year and it is only Jan 5th.

After all was said and done I took my son, his breathing machine, diaper bag, paper work, masks and tubing, and keys and left for home. I know I blew mother of the year in 2007 but I really feel as if I am in the running for 2008. If there is one thing I have learned from all the presidential candidates it is that you can never begin self-promoting too early.

To end this too long blog. Ashton is now doing well. He is still on his antibiotics but he no longer has to do the breathing treatments. (The doctor was right. He really only hated the first treatment. He tolerated all the rest fairly well.) His lungs are clear and he is my happy little boy again.

Here is Ashton feeling better and eating spaghetti.