Is There a Doctor in the House?

Easter break...there is nothing a teacher looks forward to more than that well-deserved, long-awaited, beautiful Spring Break.  Eleven glorious days to be exact.  I enjoyed days one, two, three, and half of day four.  Then, in the late afternoon, it hit me....the dreaded stomach bug.  I came home from Abby's baseball game feeling awful and stayed that way through Thursday.  You can feel sorry for me if you'd like.  You should; I work so hard, I am busy with all these kids, I entertain you periodically (or try), I'm building a house, the list goes on and on, really.  But, that's not the point of my story.  None of this was funny, obviously.  Well, okay, the kids did have two full days of running the house themselves while I was ailing.  The house looked like a scene from Mr. Mom at one point, Abby has three new cuts and scrapes, Catie was allowed to be the SKINS whenever she wanted, and they have played more Wii than any child should ever be allowed.  That's just a tiny bit funny.

Anyway, so Thursday I was still feeling rotten, and on day 4 of this nightmare.  I decided to go to the Walk-In Clinic nearby.  I still have not taken the annitiative to find a doctor.  I have never NEEDED a doctor!  I'm never sick...until I moved to Lake Charles!  After much waiting in an empty waiting room, in walks in a Physician's Assistant.  I have no problem with PAs, trust them thoroughly, and used a couple at other Drs. offices in the past with complete satisfaction.  However, the abilities here were questionable.  She looked at me, nodding, squinting, rubbing her chin a lot.  None of that looking, rubbing, nodding, or squinting ever produced any type of answer for me.  Well, she orders bloodwork.  Now we have a nurse who comes in with her caddy, looking fearful. {{Oh, Lord, help me!}} 
"How you doin', ma'am.  Ima try to take some blood from ya.  I sho' hope I don't have to stick ya more dan once.  I jus hate to be stickin people so much."

Now, that I was reassured that she had not received her LPN degree from the nearby Dollar General, she proceeded.

Stick One: "Oh, shoo.  Ya vains is so tiny.  How dey so tiny?  Oh, Lord.  I missed.  Ain't nuttin' come out.  Shoo.  Ima try one more time on this bigger vein here."

Stick Two: "Oh, shoo.  It's in there, but it ain't bleedin'!  (pulls syringe out to no blood) Look!  I ain't lyin', there ain't no blood comin out!?"

Me: "Could it be because I may be dehydrated?"

"Oh, yeah.  It may be.  Let me go tell her."

After their discussion, it is decided that I will have IV of fluids for my dehydration...administered by the same nurse and another friend.  {{Lord, watch over me.}}

Italics is the new Nurse.  Regular type is the original poker.

"Hi, Sweetie, you just get on up on that bed, now.  We gonna get you started here......okay..let me clean the area."

"Watch out, her veins is tiny."

"Okay, done that.  Now we gon put this in there, uh-huh, then...let me see..oh, yeah, next we {{{Dear, Jesus, I just want to go home today safe and sound}}."

"Girl, I'm so happy tomorrow is payday, girl!  I'm goin' to Kohl's to do me some shoppin!"  {{Don't distract her while she's working}}

"Oh, shoot.  Can someone hand me the..."

And I wait for around 3 minutes for Nurse 1 to find the thing that is supposed to be obvious to find.  Finally nurse 2 lays the IV on my arm to go get the damn thing herself.

"Alright, now, so I clamp that..get that..uh-huh...save that....clamp that again....let me see, oh yeah, I need to do this.  I'll tape this right here for you baby, and one more for good luck (wink).  Now, let's see if that work..........................................Yep, it work!  Whew!  They workin' me hard in here today.  I just clocked in at 2. Heeheehee.{{Thank you, Jesus, for Your amazing guidance}}
Yep, just been here less than an hour.  I feel like a fat cat.  I just had me some tuna fish and crackers.  Girl, I ate so much I feel like I could just pop!" {{Did I mention this was a stomach virus?  I could just barf!}}

The magic kept on just a happenin and happenin with more wonderful conversations like these and comical medical interludes, like the time when I went to the restroom, and they moved all my stuff into an exam room where I had to curl onto an exam table for the remaining 45 minutes to an hour.

I'm not sure I will be visiting this clinic again, so I am in desperate need of a new GP.  One that knows what to do when a patient presents with Day 4 of a "virus" besides nod, squint, rub, and stare.

~ Lesson:  When a nurse says she "hope she don't have to poke ya more than once"...leave...quickly.

~ACZ

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An Unfortunate Unfunny Friday

This past Friday started out as any other Friday would.  I went to work, had a typical day with my kiddos, came home and scurried off to the ballpark.  Little did I know the series of unfortunate events that this wretched evening would hold.

5:15- Softball scrimmage.  Arrive on time.  All is normal.
5:20- Zac heads to the batting cages.
5:21- Catie is screaming to go to the playground.  I am watching Abby.  Zac is occupied. No playground. 
5:21-5:28- Loud boohooing from Sweet Cate in a desperate attempt at victory.  Still no. 
5:30- Cate goes to "watch" Zac nearby at the batting cage.  The rules for this have been discussed many times.
5:40- A sobbing Catie and a wide-eyed Zac appear in front of me.  Catie now literally has the stamp of the baseball threading in the middle of her forehead.  Apparently, Catie went in the cage, would not budge when Zac asked several times, so he took a swing anyway....and tagged her smack dab in the middle of her forehead.  Ice.  Hugs.  Panic.  Resume normal activity.  Both kids sit for the rest of the game.  I can't say I even remember Abby playing Friday, I was so disturbed by the ridiculous tat that now graces the forehead of my sweet angel.  Lesson learned.

7:00- Arrive back home.  Rally the troops for an evening with friends. 

7:30ish-Enjoying a friendly fish fry, kids are playing, etc.

8:00ish- The men decide to go check the trot lines set earlier in the local pond (I know, it sounds really country)

8:15- Todd walks back in with his squeaky Crocs and dripping clothes and head past us to the bathroom.  We assume the obvious.  He fell in the pond.  As any good friend would, Shane offers him a change of clothes.  Todd forgoes the underwear that are offered, closes the door, and changes into the nice, dry clothing.

8:45- Shane offers Todd a taste of this fabulous Pepper Jelly that his wife picked up at the store for the company that was coming.  "It's awesome!"  he says, "You have to try it."  So, Todd loads a Wheat Thin up with a pile of this heavenly delicacy.  Within seconds, he turns to me and says, "We're going to have to go to the hospital."  PeCaNs!  My husband is deathly allergic to tree nuts.  I grab my purse.  Tell the kids we will return and head out.  This would be a great time to have that EpiPen that lives in Todd's truck.  Too bad we were in mine.  Lesson learned.

Now, I have never actually driven in an emergent situation before.  I was speeding, going through every light, swerving, turning, heart racing, hazards blinking. 

9:00ish- Whew!  We get to the ER.  Todd is wheezing, swollen, obviously in need of medical attention.  He is whisked away by the nurse who treated us like we may not be positive if it is an allergic reaction, whom I had to finally, firmly say, "YES!  We are SURE!  We have done this plenty of times BEFORE!  Just help him!!"  I follow.

9:30

10:00-getting sleepy

10:30- yaaawwwnnnnn.

11:30-tick tock tick tock

12:15- Misery starts to sink in.  Attempting sleep in a hard plastic chair.  When will this end???

1:00 am- Todd is released.  I bring him home for a much deserved bedtime.

1:15 am-Arrive at friends' house to pick up kids.

1:17am - Pick up Abby off of the couch only to realize she has wet her pants (which she NEVER does).  Tell Anise we will pay for cleaning.  And we WILL pay for cleaning, Anise!

1:20am- Load Zac and Cate in truck.  Load Pepper in truck.  Yes, we chose THIS night to bring the dog, too! Leave for home.  Finally.

1:30am- Home.  Wide awake from all of the drama. 

Sleep eventually came, but I am still twitching a bit from all that happened in one seemingly innocent evening.

Lots of lessons learned that night.  I told you...completely unfunny, just unfortunate.

~ACZ

She Won't Crack!

If I had a dime for every time I heard someone tell Abby or me, "I'm gonna make her talk one day!" I'd be a rich lady.

My 7-year-old, Abigail, is a tough cookie to crack.  Many have attempted to break her icy facade, but few have actually succeeded.  Once success is achieved, the relationship must be nourished, groomed, and revisited often, or else....back to square one. 

Her Pre-K teacher, Mrs. Heather,  once told me, "I have her figured out.  I have to completely ignore Abby to get her to talk in class.  The second I look directly at her and make eye contact, all bets are off.  She speaks on her own terms."  This is the absolute truth.  Abby does like attention, but in an indirect way.  She's like a lot of shy kids.  She wants people to know more about her, but she doesn't know how to go about saying it.  She's thrilled if she can walk around in her cleats and baseball gear.  This tells others she loves baseball.  If she makes a good grade on a test, she'll tell me, but makes sure the person she wants to hear it is within earshot of us.

I once witnessed my daughter at the age of 3 sit in her stoic way while my most hilarious uncle made faces at her, tickled her feet, had a staring contest, all in an attempt to break her.  Nothing. I am not sure how she does it, but she has this thing mastered.

I currently have 2 faculty members at school, her 8th Grade Buddy, and her baseball coaches attempting victory.  To them I say good luck. They'll need it.  Don't look directly at her.  Talk about baseball, Catie, Pepper, Zac, Mario Bros., her best friend, Lili.  These are some of her weaker areas.  She loves these things so much, she is always tempted to burst open and share at least one quick detail.  Listen closely because it will be low and quick, and she's not repeating, either. -_-

~ACZ

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Kerplooey

Do all 7-year-olds cry as much as mine does for every little thing?  I need to know.

Her book sack is too heavy, the door was closed too fast, her sock is twisted, she wanted the blue Powerade, she can't find her shoes, her tooth hurts, it's too late to go to the gym, she doesn't have a softball game, her room is too messy to clean, she's too tired to do homework, she thinks she bent her arm back all the way, she forgot her glove at the ballpark, Zac is looking at her, she doesn't want to wake up, she wants to wear pants, or tights, or shorts, or a headband, or a BRAID!!!!!!

It's all so dRaMaTiC!  I just looked at her and said, "Abby.  You. must.stop.this.  I am very close to jumping out of my bedroom window."  She has stopped.  It's a good thing because my window is only about 5 feet off the ground.  It would not have served much good.

~ACZ

Hey Batta, Batta, Batta...SuWing Batta!

Abby had her first scrimmage tonight.  I should've known on the first day of practice how the team would perform as a whole when the Coaches' wives said, "We're just here to have fun!"  Don't get me wrong, I am not overly competitive and believe that sports should be an enjoyable sport for all, but weren't we just IN T-ball??  This is the first year of coach-pitch fastpitch softball. It's time to learn the game.  How else is my sweet Abby going to take home the gold in the College World Series?

The other team chanted, "Hey batta batta...", "2-4-6-8 who do we appreciate...", "C'mon Kayla, you can do it, put a little powa to it, hit it (stomp, stomp) hard..."  They fielded like pros, stayed in "ready position" at all times, batted like their bats were golden. 

Our team stood ON home plate to bat, swung the bats like they were lead, turned and shrieked when the ball flew our way, cried at times, looked generally uninterested in the whole event.  Lines from movies like "The Bad News Bears", "Major League", and "A League of Their Own" rumbled through my head...{{JUSt a bit outside!}}} {{{There's no crying in BASEball!}}}

Our sweet angels were getting creamed, and the other team was playing very unfair.  One girl batted, and was thrown out by our girls at first base.  Her dad, the first base coach, said, "She's my daughter.  I'm not calling her out."  So, she stayed...on base...after she was thrown out.  She went on to 2nd, and stole third.  "Can we steal in this league?" I asked.  "No, we cannot."  I felt like I was in the twilight zone.  No one said a thing.

It brought me back to my glory days of softball, as I pitched against the oversized girls on K-Oil.  If you played softball with me in Youngsville or Broussard, you remember K-Oil.  These girls were tall, huge, mean, and tough.  They had a star for every home run they hit.  They had a lot of stars...all over their uniform. They were known for their line drives which I had the misfortune of stopping a few times...and not always with my glove.  I picture them now as these giant, grizzly-faced, ogres.  They probably were not that at all.  They were just good.  Every year.  Good.  It didn't matter how good we were.  They were always better.

We have another scrimmage Friday with no practice between today and then.  Can't wait.

Lesson: Invest in glove for extra practice times this season.

~ACZ

Blessings...update

So, I blogged about those wonderful kids I teach a few days ago, and the love, acceptance, and guidance they've shown to one of our kids who have special needs (Asperger's Syndrome).  The birthday party invitations that Ben handed out remained in high demand all week long.  Ben began just giving verbal invites to anyone and everyone who asked :)

Today was the party.  30-35 of his classmates showed up.  He received tons of gifts and tons of cash and gift cards.

If you're a mom, you know that 10-12 is a fantastic showing for birthday guests.  It just goes to show you that a little education and understanding of our differences goes a long way.  Ben does not realize how significant today was, but his family does.  Today he felt like one of the kids.  Accepted.  Not different.

Help our kids to accept one another.  Teach your kids about the others out there.

~ACZ

Lesson:  taught




Happy Birthday, Ben!



Pinata!

Twister with friends:)

Water balloon fights!!

You can also read Ben's mom's blog with this link.  http://chroniclesofanaspiemom.blogspot.com/

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Flippin Chore Chart Update

So, we've attempted the chore chart once again at our house.  At the end of week one we have one success, one liar, and one bad attitude who could care less about the flippin chore chart.

Zac was all over the structure and routine of it (much like his personality).  Catie came home on Monday [day 1] and checked off every box for the entire rest of the week with utter satisfaction with herself (again, not surprising). Then, there's Abby.  Abby has taken a complete turn in the opposite direction.  I don't think my nifty chore chart was the culprit.  I have pondered on this all week, explored every possible reason.  I keep coming back to the most obvious.  She's a girl.

Now, I have a little girl who has blatantly disregarded the chore policy, refused to fulfill several most tasks she should have done, and even topped it off this week with fibbing to her teacher at school.  I'm not prepared for this girl thing.  I need support.  I need parenting classes, or books,or blogs, or some type of training literature that I can highlight and file for future reference {Not really. I don't file, unless it is on my computer.}}  You know what I mean.

.........I don't even know what her consequence should be for the chore chart catastrophe.  I didn't read that far on the website.  I only saw rewards.  Teachers are the worst at reading and following directions.

Lesson:  Do not pioneer chore chart without a well thought out plan of action.

~ACZ

P.S.  When your mom says "I hope you have a daughter just like you one day!", do you think God hears, laughs, and follows through with that request?  I think, maybe so.

Blessings

Last night I had the privilege of being part of an evening of reflection for our school staff.  Many parts of this evening were touching and eye-opening, but one particular part of the evening stood out for me because it's something I think of often.

In discussing different ways that we encounter our faith,  I began thinking of my students and all of the different ways I see God in them.  As each of these kids walk in my door each day, I realize over and over again how different they all are, and how many different things they need from me.  I'm not sure if all teachers see this so blatantly, or if God has just given me a gift to see it more clearly.  I see it, I feel for them, and I adapt and adjust to what they need.  Plain and simple:  I do this solely because if it were my child who needed something from his teacher each day, I'd hope he was respected and understood enough to receive it.  I am so thankful for this gift that I've been given, and I hope I use it to the best of my ability.

This year, my mix of kids is interesting, varied, and exercising that gift all day long.  One of them, in particular, has Asperger's Syndrome.  He has been in school with the same kids in this sweet, private school since pre-K.  The kids know he's different.  It's obvious.  That's about all they knew until this year.  This year, their eyes have been opened to understand, support, and encourage those who are "differently-abled" as his mom prefers him to be described.  At the beginning of the year, I saw kids who just shrugged at his quirkiness, still being respectful, but not understanding all the time.  These are 4th graders.  They are certainly old enough to understand.  We decided to educate them about their classmate.  One day, when he had a doctor's appointment, we gathered all 64 of our kids.  I presented a slide show about Asperger's Syndrome (but this kid in particular). 

He's super smart, makes fantastic grades on the same exact tests, not modified.  {{Really?  I didn't think he knew much of anything.}}.  His writing is illegible because of his dysgraphia.  {{Oh...that's why he uses the computer for some lessons.  I get it.}}  He thinks you are all his best friends, and he thinks he's playing with you when he is just running alongside your game. {{He does that?  I never noticed?}} His hands don't work as well as yours do.  He can't get the words out of his brain like you can.  His BRAIN IS ACTUALLY DIFFERENT THAN YOURS.  He's not contagious.  He's not upset because of any of these differences.  He's just different.  We're all different.  He is expected to perform the same daily tasks and follow the same school rules.  We can help him to feel like a part of our class, instead of an outsider.  {{How can I help?}}

From then on, the kids have made a daily effort to help, encourage, guide, and befriend our friend.  Even more than that, they've transferred that acceptance to others who are "differently-abled".  Today was our boy's birthday.  When he walked into the door, I simply told him happy birthday.  He said, "Oh!  You remembered!"  After that, with no prompting from me, the entire class erupted in a wonderfully loud "Happy Birthday To You" song {{tears!}}.  He was thrilled, but quickly moved on to pass out invitations to his party.  He was given 24 invites just for homeroom.  Not enough.  The kids who did not get one (in other classes) were asking for one.

I am so proud of the change that took place in these kids this year, and I hope they keep and use the gift.  If you haven't ever explained another child's differences to your children, take the time to do it.  They will understand.  If you don't know enough to explain it, look it up together.  Learn together.  God could have chosen to give any one of us a child with special needs.  Take the time to understand.  It can make your child a much more understanding child on the playground.  We're all different.  God wanted it that way.  We're all differently-abled:)

~ACZ

Another One Bites The Dust

Zac just turned off his light, peered into his hermit crab's cage, and said, "Mom, I think my hermit crab is dead." {{poke, poke....POKE, POKE}}}
"Well, when is the last time you fed him?"
"I do feed him.  He just doesn't eat!"

"Well, MAYbe that's because he's dead {{snort, chuckle, giggle}}}...When's the last time you fed him?"

"Last month??"

"Yeah, he might be dead."

Catie: "MOM?  Can we go to  the pet store tomorrow and get a hermit crab for me?"

Really?  How many of God's creatures have to be sacrificed in this inhumane way?

~ACZ

R.I.P Hermit Crab...R.I.P

For the other creatures of God we have lost, you can visit the story of the gold fish (again, no name).  It's shameful.

Chores...Take Two!

Okay, I posted long ago about trying to start a chore system.  I guess it disappeared into the sea of homework, house building, teaching, and whatever other daily task we could insert here to make it sound more dramatic.   The beginning stages are the toughest part because I have to endure the fussing, fighting, whining, hitting, kicking, screaming rebellion.  Of course, another downfall was the time Abby was unaware that all surfaces of the dishes deserve a scrub.

So, we are in the beginning stages of our 2nd attempt at a peaceful, harmonious household where kids pick up their toys, set and clear the table, help wash the dishes, pick up the bathroom and their rooms daily, and show a general love and respect for all who dwell here.  I know, sounds like your house, right? 

I have revised the chore chart (for the 8th time), customized them all to each child, and hung them on their bedroom doors.  Catie, so far, is not a team player.  She came home from school and checked off EVERYTHING for today already, including the bedtime routine boxes.  Whatever......she lies.  We're all aware of it.

Wish us luck.  We'll need it.

~ACZ

Lesson:  For chore chart to work, one must enforce said chores.

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Mani/Pedi Poser

I finally got rid of the kids long enough decided to cash in today on the gift card my husband gave as part of my birthday gift.  My birthday is March 12th.  It is April 1st..................................you get it.

Anyway, it was heaven. 

Okay, it was not quite like the picture I just snatched from bing.com, but it was a wonderful mani/pedi.  I needed it.  I've had one of the busiest weeks I've had in a while.  My kids' teachers probably think I pay no attention to them whatsoever from the looks of their folders and signed papers.  The truth is I look at them in my classroom, and shove them all back in.................Okay, that's a lie. I did not check them daily this week as I should.................Alright!  I didn't check them at all!!!  I feel guilty and horrible, but it was SAT review week and testing was minimal.  My kids mostly work independently anyway......Fine.  I failed as a parent this week.

Moving on.....my mani/pedi was fabulous.  If you know me, I am a tightwad particular with my spending.  My husband, knowing this, can always depend on the gift card for some type of pampering that I would never splurge on myself.  I took advantage today when my wonderful in-laws decided tonight was a good night for a baseball game with all 3 of my children.

I took in every moment, every massage, every sluff, and buff.  My toes were given much needed attention after a winter of neglect, as my hands and fingernails endured their metamorphosis.  So much more enjoyable when it is given as a gift from someone you love.

When this 30 minutes of heaven was over, I flopped out in my pedi shoes, waltzed up to the counter with my well-deserved gift card from my wonderful husband.  The sweet, Asian woman looked at my card, looked at me like I had just been dropped by a UFO, and pointed across the street.  "Dis faw nail place there".


{{{shame}}}}..............{{{{{recomposure}}}}}}}}}........................

"Oh, I'm sorry.  I'm new in town.  No problem.  What do I owe you?"

I left this haven with my head hung in shame and my beautiful nails glistening in the sunset.

~Lesson:  Check the name of the store closely before cashing in on the gift card.