Thursday, March 27, 2008

Bad Piggie.

I haven't posted in over a week and I never did get around to posting those mitten pics (although I did photograph them), so this one's for you, Donna. Don't tell Richard.

I wrote this when we first got the girls and I was feeling a wee bit overwhelmed. He and I have both had a hearty laugh over both the event and the written story by now, and all duties have been redistributed more than fairly, so it should be safe for blog publishing. Enjoy.


Wife of the Year Award
by Muriel Taft

I would like to submit an anecdote as my entry submission for Wife of the Year 2008.

My routine has turned upside down since the children. Mornings now include getting two little humans ready for school and daycare and making sure they have everything they need. At night, homework must be checked, teeth are brushed, jammies chosen and donned, and tuck-ins. In between are the shuttling to and from daycare, organizing their schedules and visits with their grandma, scheduling respite care, calling doctors and dentists and caseworkers.

Richard has to set out two extra bowls of Cheerios in the morning.

Last Thursday night it got bitterly cold and we arrived home from Habitat volunteering at the children's bedtime. We all rushed into the house and I began getting the children ready for bed. Richard had to go out with the dog because the dog has better sense than to go out in this kind of cold alone. 10 minutes later, as I'm choosing the children's outfits for the next morning, and tucking them in, and making sure toothpaste doesn't splatter any further than the bathroom threshold, the girls perk up and say, what's that pounding? I tune into it for the first time myself and say, I don't know, but I'm going to go find Papa Richard for your goodnight hugs and kisses.

Reaching the living room, I see my husband pounding with both fists on our front windows. I go to let him in and he stomps off to the back door. He comes in gasping and angry that he's been pounding at different windows/doors all over the house. He locked himself out. He was worried about the dog freezing and he couldn't get my attention and oh my GOD didn't I hear him??

Well, no, I didn't.

I apologized and explained that I must have just tuned it out. He says, well, I guess I should have brought my keys with me. I guess I just have to remember EVERYTHING (and this with a defeated two-arm flap down to his sides).

Before continuing, I'd like to point out a few more facts to support my nomination. I'd like to point out that we have a key lockbox attached to the house for just such an occasion. The 4-digit combination is a number well-known to both of us, and chosen by Richard himself. When I asked him why he didn't use that, he said it wouldn't open. I assumed it was frozen shut. It turns out he got all flustered and couldn't remember the combination. That he chose.

Additionally, since we'd just gotten home a few minutes before, the unlocked car would have been a warm place to hide from the wind so the doggie didn't freeze. It would also have served as a nice place to really THINK about what that tricky combination could be.

So I'm sure you can imagine the deafening silence that met THAT statement. After closing my jaw, I simply said, we'll revisit that statement in a few minutes. For now, you need to go give the girls their hug and kiss goodnight.

He's still alive. Give me that trophy.

Wednesday, March 19, 2008

Mittens, Medicine, and Musings

I have been working on these mitered mittens by Elizabeth Zimmerman and got them done Monday night, but I forgot the memory card at home with the pictures on them. Oh well. I'll post them tonight.

FC1 has been sick the last couple of days with an asthma-related cough. Non-stop coughing until she gags and throws up. Richard took her to the doc yesterday and had to stop the car 3 times on the way home so she could lean out the door and toss the cookies. Poor baby. She's had to use the nebulizer for albuterol and a steroid every 6 hours or so. It's sad seeing such a tiny person with a plastic face mask over her mouth and nose, coloring in her coloring book she got free at the pharmacy. She was up coughing with me until after MY bedtime, 10:15 pm. Finally I gave her a swig of Vick's 44 Cough Relief. It tastes like death but it worked. Hallelujah. She slept like the dead until this morning. Richard put her right back on her nebulizer first thing. She is doing better but Richard's going to stay home with her again.

I was having a discussion with my friend Janice yesterday and mentioned how with foster kids, they don't represent you or your values the same way your biological children do. They may have a different sense of style, different hair and eyes, different mannerisms, different sensibilities. This is where a very specific type of detachment comes in handy. You have to completely let go of any vanity that may come to you through your children. At the same time, this frees you to see events in their history for what they are instead of becoming immersed in a family culture. You are also much more aware of your role as caretaker of someong else's family. It's all good.

Well, I suppose I should get back to work. Happy Wednesday.

Wednesday, March 12, 2008

Back from Vegas

A few pics from our trip.
At the top of the Eiffel Tower at the Paris Hotel.
At the Grand Canyon.

Wednesday, March 5, 2008

Fabulous Las Vegas, Here We Come!

Vivaaaaa, Las Vegas! Richard and I head out early tomorrow morning. Wish us luck!!