Inactivity

I am very very bad at inactivity. Even when I'm sick or tired or pregnant or whatever, I cannot just sit still and do nothing. I can't nap in the daytime unless I have a high fever. As a rule, watching TV is not active enough. This is part of the reason I'm overweight - I have to do something, even if it's nibbling, and I got into the habit of munching in front of the TV rather than doing my cross-stitch or what-have-you. Also part of the reason I really like video games; they give me something to do with my hands.

So yesterday, when my dentist more or less ordered me to rest (he threatened to send me to an oral surgeon, "who will charge you thousands of dollars for the same thing and maybe that will make you take resting seriously,") I was Not Pleased. But he gave me some specific guidelines - no lifting more than 30 lbs, only soft foods, nothing too hot, nothing carbonated, just relax. By fortunate coincidence I have no assignments due until tomorrow midnight.

I can't do it. Not all the way, anyway. If I do nothing at all I'll go bug-nutty. But I can watch old TV on Amazon Instant Streaming, apply for jobs on the Internet, play on Google Plus, and fold laundry without going crazy. The good offices of hydrocodone make me sleepy enough that I'm not overdoing the one of those activities that's actually physical. That's as good as I've got.

Born Every Minute

Yep, that's me. A sucker. Not in the easily-trusting sense, although that can be me too, more so when I was younger. But in the sucking sense. Given a choice, I will always drink from a straw. It just feels right to me. But apparently I actually sucked some stitches loose in my sleep, because they fell out. Yes, again. Stop looking at me like that; I can't help it.

That whole breathing through a hole in your jaw thing? Totally overrated. Also, gross.

So, back to the dentist. Again. Repacked it and sprinkled topical antibiotic on it. Again. Restitched it (back to silk). Again. Then (this is the new part) he put something that smelled nasty - I think it's the dental equivalent of Liquid Bandage - over the stitches and had the assistant melt it on cure it with his itty bitty hair-dryer-looking thing, and then applied the patch material over that. All this as he was scolding me (rightfully so - I took no offense) for not ensuring that "taking it easy" refers to everything physical, not just eating soft foods. I protested ("arhgharnngg!") when he said I shouldn't be lifting things over 30 pounds and then I remembered when my chiropractor (years ago) quoted "Dem Bones". Yeah, yeah, I get it. All connected, over-straining while lifting equals clenching jaw, etc. Apparently the painkillers were working well enough that I was overdoing without realizing. Sort of like I did after both my c-sections.

So I am supposed to take it easy for realz this time. For three days I am supposed to do nothing more physically strenuous than folding laundry, loading the dishwasher and driving the cat to the vet (the cat, with her carrier, probably tops out at nine pounds). Grandma has promised to explain it to Lizzy, Laston and I can explain it to Abby, but it boils down to me being on the dental equivalent of partial bed rest. Sit on the couch, do homework, job hunt online, eat still more Jell-O and applesauce and soup, no carbonation, no drinking straws, nothing too hot, clove oil for pain only after the patch falls off, nothing physically strenuous.

Good News. I've already lost four pounds. Another three days ought to take care of a few more.
Bad News. I canceled this week's game. We can have my famous spaghetti with three kinds of sauce next week.

Bottom on the Bale

Twactah Twain

Ready!

That's the last line in the little rhyme the good folk of The Farm at Swan's Trail teach small children on field trips to keep them in their seats on the Wagon (pulled by the Tractor) on the way to the Pumpkin Patch. This is where Lizzy's preschool had their field trip today. Doesn't she look like an intrepid explorer of pumpkin patches? She objected at one point because the whole place isn't "weally a field". Much like Bob the Tomato being a fruit, so what the heck is he doing in VeggieTales? She's picky - in a semantic sort of way - like that.

Totally Pumped

When we got there she was fine. When we saw a friend ("the shy girl", Lizzy calls her) bundled up, she suddenly became chilly. We found a jacket in the car, and also the teachers brought each child an oversized tee shirt emblazoned with the school's name, so she was just fine. They pumped water, played on the playground, pet baby animals (four-day-old rabbits are tiny), rode in the tractor-pulled wagon to the pumpkin patch, and had Creamsicles. Aside from a bee sting, the kids did great, although I have to say this was a lot easier with first-graders when Abby's class went two years ago! Whichever parent it was who said to her own child loudly enough so the whole wagon-load could hear, "no pumpkins too big to carry yourself!" - that parent I nominate for sainthood.

"The Shy Girl", Lizzy,
and "Bwicey"

It was a good time, if rather tiring. And I have renewed respect for the teachers who do these things - not to mention the employees of The Farm - there are reasons I never completed my degree in early childhood education and field trips are pretty much the top of the list. A special shout out to Farmer Tim, who taught the kids the rhyme:

This is the hammer,
This is the nail,
Keep your bottom,
On the bale.

Squick

Squick is the reaction some people have when confronted by TMI, taboo subjects, things they consider unnatural, etc. The Veggie Tales squicked my older daughter when she was little. My husband is squicked by many things. This post may squick you if you are uncomfortable with medical / dental / surgical details (this means you, my darling husband). You have been warned.

I went in last week to have a tooth pulled and another root canaled. Not too big a deal. Uncomfortable but certainly not a major thing. Until they discovered that these teeth had roots going all the way up into my sinus cavity. All this was covered in another post. That was Wednesday. Thursday I graduated to noodles with mushrooms, whee. Friday we went to the dentist before the casino because something felt like it was coming loose. The dentist (not my usual guy) said it was just a little of the membrane they use to keep the bone graft material away from mouth bacteria, it's all good, just be gentle.

And it was. Until I had a sneezing fit last night due to going through old papers my grandmother and then my dad had kept and were now passing to us (and some of them were hilarious - letters from eight-year-old me to Grandma and so forth - but that's another post). Dusty. And apparently, since there is the hole going all the way up from the surgical wound into my sinus cavity, violent sneezing knocked all that packing material loose. One should not be able to breathe through a hole in one's gums.

Ewwwwwwwwww....

And apparently I also have seriously strong saliva, so the silk stitches were too deteriorated to hold all that stuff in. That's right. Jenn The Gamer Mom, Super Spit Girl. So I went in again today. He repacked it, used some topical antibiotics, and restitched it, using what amounts to medical-grade fishing line.

This is getting really old. But it is what it is, and it must be done. Kableh.

Star of the Week

This week marks Lizzy's stint as Star of the Week at preschool.  The Star of the Week gets to be line-leader, gets to choose who helps clean up "with wipes!", brings a snack (we're bringing fruit leather), and has assorted other responsibilities and privileges.

She also has to fill out - with parents' help - a list of favorites (stuffed toy, restaurant, movie, etc), the answers to which were pretty funny. Some are fairly normal, like her favorite restaurant is Red Robin and her favorite movie is The Care Bears II: a New Generation. But she wants to go on a field trip to "the desert" (too much Magic Schoolbus, perhaps?), and her favorite breakfast food is apparently "grapes and bacon". And we were asked to make a poster with Lizzy and Friends at various stages, shown to the right.

In addition to Lizzy's turn as Star of the Week, the Sound of the Week is Aa. Not AY. Not AH. Aa. S I was racking my brains trying to think of something that is neither apple nor alligator, of which I'm sure there will be plenty, and my eight-year-old pipes up with, "um, mom? She could bring me. I start with Aa". To which the answer is "no, not on a school day". But Lizzy is bringing a picture of her big sister. On the back it's labeled:

Aa Abby
Aa Abigail

That ought to do the trick.

INgratitude

This is developmentally normal for children ages eight and eleven. Doesn't change the fact that it makes me want to strangle them.

The issue is simple; they are never satisfied. None of this is big stuff, just the automatic whine of, "but why can't I...?" with every single thing. None of our kids are ever going to go hungry, but you'd think we were deliberately starving them every time we refused them a third slice of cheese with their already enormous sandwich. It also goes hand-in-hand with the infamous it's-not-fair phenomenon. Tonight I made each child a snack-size zip-top bag of "trail mix" for a movie-time snack. Some cheezits, fruit snacks, cereal, pretzels in each bag (these are half the size of sandwich bags). Lizzy's still young enough that she doesn't notice differences in this sort of thing, but the other two, well...

First Abby's did not have enough pretzels. Then Leanna's didn't have enough fruit snacks. So I divvied them up more "fairly" and told them that the next argument I heard about the snacks would trigger me taking them away entirely. They think I'm mean. I think I'm keeping myself sane.

Maybe I need to pull out the mantra we used when they were Little Kids:

"You git what you git and you don't throw a fit".

Or maybe our other mantra - the one for grownups - is more appropriate here:

"Developmentally normal does not equal socially acceptable".