Broken

File this under self-indulgent.

Ever since the Cooper-Young 4-miler, I started getting a little more serious about running. Some friends and I decided to sign up for Wade's Big Adventure, which is an 8 mile trail race at Shelby Farms. We spent several weeks running the trails on the weekends and on race day we totally kicked ass. I mean we did't win or anything, but we had fun and we felt strong. We'd all signed up for Sylamore in February and planned to once again double our distance (4->8->16.).



Since the race was on a Sunday, I also had a soccer game that day. I didn't feel tired, but my brain was not communicating with my body in the way that it normally does. I had a total freak accident that resulted in me crushing my own foot. After several X-rays and finally an MRI, it was determined that I broke my first metatarsal.

Yep, broken again. It's actually been a good 9 years since I broke my leg in three, and 25 (!) since my ACL surgery. And compared to those two injuries, this is nothing. (I hope.)

When I moved into the Pie Factory, I kinda had a feeling I'd be tackling these stairs on crutches some day.



Thankfully the crutches only lasted about ten days.

Also, please note I got a pedicure ASAP. Even better, Kristy crocheted me some toe covers for my cast.



Being in a cast has severely cramped my style. I was running three times a week, doing yoga twice a week, and playing soccer. Now I can't even stand at my desk. It's frustrating as hell. But I haven't let it totally ruin me. I still made it to New Orleans for Thanksgiving weekend (more on that later. maybe!) and I am trying to look on the bright side.

The Bright Side

1. At least it's my left foot, so I can still drive.
2. I got to take three days off to convalesce which resulted in getting to watch every episode of "The Master of None."
3. The kids have learned to carry their own shit.
4. When I met the Mayor-elect, I got to make a joke about Chuck Brady running me over.
5. According to the pedicure dude, I have a cool story. "At least you didn't fall in a hole," he said.
6. Strangers talk to me, a lot. "I told you not to kick the dog," they say. "We aren't getting any younger," they remind me. "You were watching soccer or playing soccer?" they ask. (Ok maybe this one belongs on a different list!)

I'm four weeks in, and hopefully transitioning to a boot soon. I so want to scratch my ankle.

Wish me luck. I haven't given up on Sylamore yet.

R.I.P. Dinkey

Ugh. It's taken a while for me to be able to type this up.

On Saturday, October 5th, I had a usual crazy Saturday--long run in the morning followed by two soccer games. Warren was in Huntsville for a Wing Chun pow wow and Jiro had a sleepover. Between running in and out all day I noticed that Dinkey was really lethargic. He wasn't eating and he just wanted to snuggle. Dinkey was not snuggler. While I enjoyed curling up with him on the couch, I knew someting was wrong.



Sunday morning, I really hoped he'd be better. The kids get all kinds of 24 hour bugs, so I hoped that's what dogs got too.

Satchel and I took Dinkey to the emergency vet on Summer. They told us that he had Parvo. I had never really heard of Parvo and didn't know how serious it was. The doctor said we could admit him to the hospital and then take him to the regular vet on Monday. The estimate for this option was $1000. She also said that she could give him a treatment and that we could take him home and then take him to the regular vet in the morning. She said he wasn't septic and that she had some success with this plan. This option was $250.

I was disraught and really unsure of what to do. I called Warren. I hung up on Warren. I burst into tears. I didn't know what to do. Based on what the doctor said and due to financial concerns, I chose the home treatment.

Dinkey slept most of the day and just seemed sad, but he was still getting around. He didn't want to eat or drink anything. By Sunday night we were all really worried. All four of us slept in the boys' room with him and waited for the vet to open at 7:30am on Monday.

By the time we got him to Central Animal Hospital I was sure they would put him down. He couldn't walk and he had a steady stream of bloody diarrhea. The vet actually said she had seen worse cases and that we shouldn't give up. Dinkey was admitted to the hospital.

Monday was a busy day. I had to work, Satchel got his braces, and Warren was busy getting ready to leave town again for a 2 day work trip. I called the vet and they said Dinkey was holding steady. They said I could come see him at lunch time on Tuesday.

When I went to see him he looked even more pitiful than Monday, which I didn't think was possible. They can't really treat Parvo. They can just give fluids and anti-nausea medicine and hope the pups have enough strength to fight the virus.



The vet said he wasn't out of the woods yet and that he might also have distemper, because of the amount of liquid draining from his eyes and mouth. But still, she wasn't ready to give up on him. The tech said she saw him standing up in the morning when she came in. She thought that was a good sign. I tried to take some comfort in this and hold out hope.

By 4:00pm I was disraught again. I called the hospital and talked to the tech. I felt like we were making him suffer and I felt horribly guilty. The tech assured me that the vet wasn't ready to give up and to wait til morning. Warren was out of town, so I didn't want to make the decision to put him down. I decided to wait.

I fretted all night and when the phone rang at 7:00am I knew it wasn't good news. "Dinkey didn't make it through the night," the vet said.

I cried.

I called Warren.

I took a deep breath and went to wake up the kids. In tears, Satchel said, "I had a dream that he was okay and we were playing."

It was pretty fucking heartbreaking.

We got dressed and headed to the hospital to say our goodbyes. The tech told me that rigamortis had set in and wanted to make sure the kids were prepared. Satchel decided not to go see him, but Jiro and I did. They had him wrapped up in a blanket and he looked peaceful. I aksed them to hold the body until the next day when Warren would be home and we could bury him.

I have never buried a puppy. It was awful. I don't ever want to go through this again. Our whole family is devastated.

So now to answer the questions...why didn't we vaccinate him? When we got him from the shelter we were told he had his shots and to take him to a vet within two weeks for the rabies shot. They gave us a rabies voucher. When we took him to Pet Vax two weeks later, they told us he was too young for rabies. When we took him back two weeks after that, he got the rabies shot and the heartworm medicine.

Dinkey was about 8-12 weeks old when we adopted him, so he may have needed more shots. I don't understand why we weren't given a full vaccination schedule at the shelter or from PetVax.

From HealthyPets.com:

Initial vaccination in puppies < 16 weeks of age Starting at 6 weeks, vaccinate every 3 to 4 weeks (6, 10, 14 or 8, 12, 16 weeks) up to 14 or 16 weeks; final shot should be given between 14 and 16 weeks to minimize risk of maternal antibody interference Initial vaccination in dogs > 16 weeks of age

One dose

Revaccination

For puppies who received initial vaccination series by 16 weeks, a booster no later than 1 year after completion of initial series, then ≥ 3 years thereafter

For dogs who received initial vaccination after 16 weeks of age, every ≥ 3 years thereafter

But that's a little confusing, right? Maybe the shelter or Petvax could have clued us in at some point?

Distemper has a similar schedule:

Initial vaccination in puppies < 16 weeks of age Starting at 6 weeks, vaccinate every 3 to 4 weeks (6, 10, 14 or 8, 12, 16 weeks) up to 14 or 16 weeks; final shot should be given between 14 and 16 weeks to minimize risk of maternal antibody interference Initial vaccination in dogs > 16 weeks of age

One dose

Revaccination

For puppies who received initial vaccination series by 16 weeks, a booster no later than 1 year after completion of initial series, then ≥ 3 years thereafter

For dogs who received initial vaccination after 16 weeks of age, every ≥ 3 years thereafter

Notes: Among healthy dogs, distemper vaccines are expected to induce immunity for at least 5 years.

I'm sick over the fact that we thought we were doing everything we were supposed to, but we weren't. Add to that the fact that we took him to the dog park several times a week and exposed him to all kinds of germs and well, I seriously feel like shit.

Now to really top things off, I learned that the Parvo virus can live in your house for anywhere from a month to six months and in your yard for up to a year. It's not safe for us to bring another puppy home.

I wish I knew what the fuck Parvo was to begin with. I wish the emergency vet would have given me some more info or made it clear that the only way to save Dinkey was to drop the $1000 for immediate care. I would have done it.

I wish he didn't spend his last few days suffering.

I want a do over.

I want Dinkey back.

This is what Warren wrote:

Dinkey was a shining light in our lives from the moment we saw him shredding his paper bedding at the animal shelter, til 82 days later when he left us. He never met a two- or four-legged creature who didn't feel a lick of his tongue or wag of his tail. His two settings were puppy overdrive and crashed asleep. Sharp as a nail too--would sit, shake paws, and lie down on request; and had enough sense to dodge and hide when he knew he was in trouble... If the brightest lights only burn a fraction as long, his was white hot. You will be missed Dinkey.



R.I.P. Dinkey Doo. We love you. I'm sorry I didn't protect you.

Back Among the Living

Last week is a blur of blankets on the floor, various medications, and trips to the grocery store. I was knocked out with a sinus attack and the boys both had what I can only guess was the flu. They were fevery and lethargic. Jiro had no appetite and Satchel was starving. Satchel also had some GI problems, so maybe they didn't even have the same thing.

We spent most of the week in the livingroom.




By Thursday, the boys were annoying each other and wrestling so I thought they were on the road to recovery, but they never seemed well enough to go back to school.



I thought for sure that basketball and soccer would get at least Jiro going on Saturday, but he slept until the basketball game started and despite wanting to play soccer, he only made it for about two minutes. Ditto for Satchel.

It was very sad.

By Saturday night, Jiro started to get his appetite back, and on Sunday he made it to the Hi-Tone for the Old Forest Jamboree.



Satchel, who had convinced me he was well enough for a sleepover before his sad showing at the soccer game, was probably a bit optimistic about his recovery. As you can see here, he fell asleep at the Jamboree.



Seriously, I love that picture.

Thankfully Monday was a school holiday, so the boys had one last day to hang out in their jammies and rest up. They were actually excited about returning to school today.

Superfail

I love this picture of Satchel. With a few tweaks it could totally have been me in 1982. After I snapped this photo he actually said, "I'm so glad they invented remote controls." And then in a true moment of old lady-ness I told him about when I was little and how we used to actually get up to change the channel.



Anyways, lest you think the subject of this post was a tease, I will move on to the superfail of the weekend...

On Saturday we had a full day of soccer. My team, which includes Jiro, played first. They did great and we won 2-0. (Yay, Mean Green!)

Next, we went to Second Presbyterian for Satchel's pictures and then his game against Idlewild. This is only the second time I've gotten to see him play and he did great. He almost scored a goal, but the goalie beat him to the ball. I was thrilled just to have him in the right place at the right time.

At half time, he came over to get his water and was really upset about missing the goal. I tried to give him a pep talk, but he could not be consoled. Once the second half started, I could see him near tears on his bench. (He had played nearly the entire first half.)

Being his mother, his number one fan, and a soccer coach, I took it upon myself to walk over to the bench and attempt pep talk v2. He basically told me to go away and leave him alone. As I was walking back, Coach Kyle stopped me and we chatted about my game. Then I let him know Satchel was upset. He was surprised and said he'd talk to him. By the time I got back to my seat I could see Kyle talking to him and then it was 100% clear that Satchel was in tears.

Oh my.

He managed to pull himself together and get back in the game. After the game, which they won in a last second goal, he seemed fine.

But the subject came up later and it was clear that Satchel was still very much upset about his performance and my subsequent attempts to cheer him up. First off, he played fine! Geez! Second, I probably should have stayed out of it. Fine. But man was he mad at me. I think part of it was him being tired and cranky about other things, but I am officially not looking forward to him being a teenager. Basically he said the more I tried to cheer him up, the worse he felt. And he thought the nice things I said were just lies because I'm his mom and as a coach I tell everyone they played good, even if they didn't, and therefore all compliments I give are meaningless.

I told him I was sorry and believe me I won't make the same mistake again, but dang. Superfail.

And yes, I know I cannot truly be 100% responsible for ruining his life on Saturday despite his proclamations, but I truly just wanted to make him feel better. Apparently I have lost that power.

Minecraft

This kid is obsessed.


(Photo by Ms. Autumn at Evergreen)

Satchel heard about Minecraft at school last semester and has been pretty much obsessed with it since. He and Jiro both have accounts and it is their #1 game of choice. Goodbye DS, goodbye iPod, goodbye Wii. It's all Minecraft, all of the time. As far as I can tell, and I can't tell much, it is like 3D Legos. They do a lot of building, which is actually pretty cool. There's a social element too. They furiously type to people while playing, and Satchel even talks to people on a headset. Skype is somehow involved. There are different servers, and maybe even worlds.

It can get pretty dramatic in a Lord of the Flies way. People "grief" each other. People get banned. I think you can kill other players too. There's some trading of things too because I've heard Satchel bribe Jiro out of a bad mood by offering him diamonds.

Satchel plays on our desktop and Jiro plays nearby on the sofa on my laptop. (Seriously my keyboard is so nasty now.) It is not uncommon to hear them strategize or even yell at each other. Sometimes it gets heated.

On the weekends, Satchel will actually set his alarm for 6am so he can get up early and play. And then at night I have to practically tear them away from the game. It's a little nuts. We definitely try and put limits on their play time, but with no camp to attend last week, and a somewhat activity free weekend, it got a little out of hand.

Also, Satchel decided he wanted to use his monthly allowance so that he could have his own server. I was impressed that he even knew how to do that. Well, that was the last nail in the coffin, so to speak. Running the server added a lot of stress to the game for Satchel. He needed time to set everything up and was very particular about who got on and who did what once they were there. Meanwhile, Jiro, who had declared himself co-owner, got very distressed by Satchel's control issues.

It was ugly.

On Saturday afternoon, Satchel came over to me and said, "Can we be grounded from Minecraft for a week?"

Warren and I were both ready to ground them, so this was an easy yes. I thought it was great that he knew when he needed a break, but I also felt guilty for letting it get to the point that he would want to ground himself.

Surprisingly, Jiro didn't even protest when he heard the news.

Satchel told me that he felt obsessed--we went through this last summer with some XBOX games--and that he just needed a break. He also said he needed help with the server and couldn't find anyone to help him. It was heartbreaking on a few levels.

On Sunday, not surprisingly, they were both bouncing off of the walls. I had definitely been taking for granted how occupied Minecraft kept them. We immediately went to the pool and burned off some energy. Later that night, Satchel looked at me and said, "I can still hear the Minecraft theme music in my head!"

Good grief.

By Monday, Satchel was asking if he could get back on Friday instead of Saturday, but I told him no. I think as the week progresses, the break is going to be harder and harder, but they need it and I'm sticking to my guns. And there's definitely going to have to be some serious time limits enforced.

Meanwhile, Warren is trying to interest them in a new activity that he's dubbed Yardcraft.

Busted

Want to guess who broke his wrist just one day after basketball season ended?



Yep, my little Jiro. While Warren and I were out to dinner with friends, he was home with friends (and a babysitter, of course). One of his favorite things to do when I'm not around is to break the "no jumping off of the top bunk" rule.



He's in this cast for two weeks. The orthopedist is treating it aggressively in the hopes that he can be cast free for our Spring Break adventures.

Poor biscuit. Think this will teach him?

The Mythical Stomach Ache

Jiro, the stubborn one, has been trying to outsmart me lately. When there is something that he doesn't want to do, he claims to have a stomach ache. It's a pretty smart tactic since there is no way to really prove him wrong.

Fortunately, I have been able to win the battle of the wills and get him to cooperate/comply despite his ailing belly. On Saturday, I had a discussion with Satchel about how sneaky the stomach ache ploy was, since it was so hard to prove, and Satchel agreed. Sometime on Saturday afternoon, Satchel called Jiro out. "Your stomach didn't hurt," he said.

"Uh huh," Jiro replied.

"Well, you are fine now," he said.

I decided to stay out of the conversation.

Sunday night, we gave my thirteen-year-old niece a ride home from one sister's house to the other's. Before getting in the car I watched her try and convince my mom that she was too sick for school the next day. "I feel nauseous," she said. "Like I'm going to throw up." My mom just looked at her and said, "Talk to your mother." Then I heard my niece add, "I could stay at Cassie's house. She's sick too."

Seriously? How stupid do these kids think us grown ups are?

This morning, Satchel decided to get in on the act. Well, actually yesterday. He said his stomach hurt and he felt nauseous. (Hmmm...wonder where he picked up that word?) I let him eat chicken noodle soup for breakfast and sent him to school. Yesterday afternoon he was fine. He ate most of his dinner before remembering that his stomach hurt. At bedtime, he was fine.

This morning we had full blown drama. He simply could not go to school because he was just too nauseous. He was also fairly emphatic about me being the meanest mom ever.

I believe him (and Jiro, and maybe even my niece) that they probably don't feel 100%. But barring a fever, vomiting, and/or explosive diarrhea, the show must go on.

p.s. I am so glad I do not have girls. My sister and I missed countless days of school because of "cramps."

My Jiro

My Jiro, so tough on the outside, so biscuity on the inside.

These past few weeks have been rough. I don't think I've seen him so emotional since before he started speech therapy and was only able to physically convey his feelings. Oh, his feelings!

So it's pretty simple. It's been a tough year. I think I've mentioned that both Satchel & Jiro's best friends left the school this year. In their class there are only 5 boys. Jiro usually hangs with Jordan, Will & David hang together, and Satchel is odd man out. Of course Satchel hangs with Jiro some, and from what Jiro tells me, he also hangs with Jordan. (Satchel has also started reading. A lot.)

To offset the lack of regularly hanging with boys their age, I signed them up for fall soccer and winter basketball. Soccer was great, and for the most part basketball is too.

BUT! Jiro's very best buddy, Q, is a year older than he is. So Q and Satchel are on one team and Santi (Q's little bro) and Jiro are on another. (We couldn't get them all on the same team, like in soccer.) Both teams practice at the exact same time and in the same place. No big deal, right?

Wrong!

Every time Q runs in the gym and joins his team, which happens to include Satchel, it's like he's put a knife through Jiro's heart. A couple of weeks ago...wait. If I tell you this, you can't say anything to Jiro. (He is very sensitive about me airing his dirty laundry!) Promise? Pinky swear? Ok...a couple of weeks ago after basketball practice, Jiro actually cried himself to sleep. Between sobs he said things like, "Satchel stole the best friend I ever had."

Oh my, it was so heartbreaking. It was no good trying to talk any sense into him. He just needed to get it out.

Now, in Satchel's defense, he hasn't "stolen" anyone. (As if that were possible.) Q has matured a bit and not having him in the same class seems to have made Satchel much more interested in actually hanging out with him. So while most of us view Satchel and Q's new found friendship/tolerance of each other as a positive thing, there is one of us who simply can't cope.

Since I am friends with Q's parents, I mentioned to his dad how sad Jiro was. Well word eventually got to Q. Q was shocked and genuinely surprised, as he still quite actively considered Jiro to be his best friend. Unfortunately, Q, being 8, said to Jiro, "I can't believe you cried yourself to sleep!"

Seriously, I'm surprised Jiro is even talking to me at all.

To help Jiro & Q bond, I suggested we have Q and Santi spend the night. Instead of being excited, Jiro burst into tears. "He'll just play with Satchel!" he cried. Oh my. "What if we also invite Theo?" I suggested. Theo is older and probably technically Satchel's best friend at this point. Theo also knows Q and Santi from school and basketball. This was an acceptable solution.

Then on the night of the sleepover, Theo got grounded. When I told Satchel and Jiro, they BOTH burst into tears.

Seriously, why even try?

After a lot of hysterics, I got them to suck it up and get on board with the sleepover. Q and Santi came over and everything went pretty well. Until Jiro lost his shit. And then it pretty much sucked. And then after a lot more hysterics, it was ok again. The next day after basketball we joined up with Theo and everyone hung out and had a great time. Then Jiro had some quality time with Q and Santi and I thought everything was cool again.

Nope.

Jiro is still just devastated. "Q hates me!" he says over and over and over. I don't know what to say or do to convince him that it's all in his head and the more he worries about it, the worse it gets. I mean, really. Who wants to play with the grumpy, sullen kid? No one.

To make matters worse, Jiro then decided that everyone on his team hated him. His evidence? They didn't pass him the ball. I go to every practice, and I can attest that this was a little bit true. BUT! Not because they hate him.

Last night before practice, I said, "If you want them to pass you the ball, get open. Use your voice. Say, 'I'm open!'"

And then lo and behold, he did it. And everyone passed him the ball! It was awesome!

So now I'm trying to figure out what to say to get him to stop being so sad about Q, who by the way has done nothing but request play dates and sleepovers for the past week. This morning I said, "If Q isn't playing with you, just go over and say, 'Hey, let's do this,' or 'Hey, let's do that.'" I told him that if he was busy playing with Satchel, he should say, "Hey, let me and Santi play too."

Easy, right?

I don't know if I convinced him.

I also said, "Stop being sad and start being awesome!" A little harder to visualize, but who knows...

Turns out he is also super stressed about a school report. Typically, he gets to work with Jordan on reports, but for the first time he has to do one alone. They've had several weeks to work on them, but I don't think he's started. I'm pretty sure in his mind he was thinking, "I just won't do it. So what."

Well, it turns out that the punishment for not doing the report is no recess. And for every day it is late, it has to be a page longer. So now Jiro is in total panic mode, even though he has over a week and his dad and I have both offered to help.

He just has no confidence. I hate it.

Over the weekend he was an all around mess. On top of his internal strife, he was also feeling a little sickly. I couldn't get him to cooperate or do anything. Finally he just erupted into tears and buried his face in my stomach. I sent Warren and Satchel to the park, and somehow managed to calm him down. Once calm, he said, "No one ever wants to do what I want to do." So I asked what that was, and soon the two of us spent a lovely afternoon playing board games. He was light and happy and just like I wished he could always be.

Maybe it's just tough being 7? Being the youngest? Being Satchel's younger brother? Having feelings?

I wish I knew. I wish I could fix it.

I just hope it gets better.

(Which by the way, is Satchel's de facto response, "Jiro, it gets better." And yes, he is laughing inside about Jiro not knowing he's talking about being gay. Sigh.)

Satchel vs. Tree

On New Year's day, the three ninjas and I decided to go on a family hike. I really wanted to show them the Yellow Trail, but we were wooed by the Germantown Greenway. We'd never actually been there, so I was happy with Plan B.



Soon realizing that the Greenway connected to the Greenline, we made a beeline for the unpaved trail that followed the Wolf.



It was fun to explore a new trail. See? Fun.



We were about a mile in when Satchel decided to climb on a bridge and dangle from an old dead tree. It seemed a little unstable so he hollered for me to hurry up and take his picture. Before I could oblige him, one of the limbs snapped, and hit him square in the face. I watched in horror as he was flattened to the ground.

Luckily before I could panic, he jumped up and said, "I'm ok, I'm ok."

However, he said his tooth hurt and it was clear that it had been chipped. His upper lip was also badly scratched. All in all, I'd say that the injuries were minor. The tree was fairly hollow and light due to being dead so impact wasn't too bad.

Since he was calm, I snapped a picture of his tooth (bottom right front) and posted it on our dentist's Facebook wall.

Seriously. How 2012 is that?



She quickly responded and we worked out how to treat it and had an appointment to see her the next day. Of course we did all of this while hightailing it back to the car. Satchel's lip was swelling and I wanted him to be still for awhile. Luckily we had some ice in the car, and a cup for him to spit in. (It hurt to swallow because the enamel was stripped from the back of his tooth.)

Ice, ibuprofen, and Oragel had him feeling pretty good an hour later, but we decided to skip our New Year's Day parties and just take it easy. On Monday, I went to the dentist with him.

"Will it hurt?" he asked me.

"Probably, but I'm sure Dr. Rump will do everything she can to make it not hurt too much," I replied.

"If it's going to hurt, I just want her to pull it!" he exclaimed.

So yeah, he was amped up and scared. Dr. Rump gave him the option of numbing the tooth, but the idea of the shot scared him more than the scraping and buffing.



I let him squeeze my hand and I did my best to keep him calm. In about 20 minutes he was all fixed up. (She even fixed his top tooth which had been chipped as a toddler!)

Now that the boys are getting older, I suspect our emergency room visits for head stitching will regularly be supplemented with emergency dentist visits. At the very least there will be braces.

This tooth "emergency" was nothing compared to the one we experienced in Nola with my niece.

Parties, Bad Pictures, and One Stubborn Boy

Friday evening we had the kids' Taekwondo holiday party, complete with testing results, Warren's office party, and a lock-in at the school.



Saturday morning, Warren was heading to Huntsville to meet the Wing Chun group there and I had to work until noon. Since I had scheduled an 8am playdate for the boys, I really did not want them to attend the lock-in. (The last one they went to, they all decided to stay up all night. I found Satchel asleep in the foyer at 8am with a half-eaten biscuit in his mouth. He had fallen asleep just moments before my arrival and when I tried to get him to leave, he walked outside and got in someone else's car.)

Satchel, who at age 9, can see the larger picture (most of the time) reluctantly agreed to my compromise. I told the boys that they could go to the lock-in after the Taekwondo and Christmas parties until 10:30pm. Jiro, who despite being 7, is still very Jiro-centric. He really really wanted to go to the lock in all night because it was going to be the first time he ever got to spend the night with his buddy, Jordan. I offered to set up a separate sleepover during the holidays but Jiro replied, "Jordon's mom doesn't like us."

What followed was an epic battle of the wills. I so wanted to just give Jiro his way, but I knew that I would regret it. I stuck to my guns, but he did not make it easy. He went to bed--at home--very, very mad at me.

(While they were at the lock-in, Warren and I did manage to squeeze in a drink at the Cove, a trip to the pet store, and dinner at Tsunami.)

In order to get him to not ruin our Saturday, Satchel negotiated a deal in which I agreed to let Jiro purchase three apps on his iPod. (We all share an iTunes account, so this deal also benefited Satchel.) It was a small price to pay for happiness, so I accepted the deal.

I dropped the boys off at Casa Provencio and then went to work. Carlos gave me updates, and I knew it was just a matter of time before they were all eating donuts.



Carlos reported that there had been a debate between Donald's and Dunkin, and that Jiro had lost the fight for Donald's. (Though Jiro claimed he would eat no donuts at Dunkin, word on the street is that he ate the most.)

When I finished with work, I rejoined the boys (all 5 of them) and did my best to get some real food in them at Whole Foods before rotting their brains (and mine) at the latest Chipmunk movie. Oh lordy was it bad. Worst of all, Dave's hair appears to be thinning!



You can see here that Jiro actually did refuse to eat anything at Whole Foods.

After the movie, we said goodbye to Team P and went home for a rest and to await Warren's return. Warren made us a nice dinner, which Jiro actually ate. (Not surprisingly it also improved his mood tenfold.) Then we went to our friend Launa's housewarming party. Launa's son, Grey, is one of the boys' most favorite people ever. They ate cookies and played Pokemon while the adults mixed and mingled.



Grey ended up coming home with us for a sleepover and by Sunday morning everyone was happy.

Little Boy Drama

Yesterday, Jiro provided me with the perfect set up for a column. Unfortunately I am no longer writing a column, so now it's perfect fodder for my blog.

A little background...Jiro is stubborn as a mule, but also so very sensitive. I like to think he gets this from Warren, but I guess I'm the same way. Every week we have to battle it out about Taekwondo. He never wants to go and always has some reason why he can't. However, we signed a contract and if I am paying, he is going! He usually does fine until testing time rolls around. He has no trouble learning his patterns, sparring, and he even enjoys breaking boards, but he loathes memorizing the meanings that go with each pattern. He is a very strong reader and has no problem remembering them once he sets his mind to it, but he has such a huge (unreasonable) fear of failure that it is always a struggle.

So this is testing week, which means he really cannot talk his way out of class AND he has to learn his meaning, so emotions are running high. I managed to get him in his uniform by sticking to my guns and starting a pot of macaroni & cheese. As I was finishing up the mac & cheese, he asked if he could have one of the mini chocolate cupcakes that Warren had brought home from a party over the weekend. I said "sure" and went about my business.

Then I heard Jiro's signature, "OHMYGOD!" (Which he probably also got from me.)

"What?" I said, alarmed.

"I GOT CUPCAKE ON MY PANTS AND EVERYONE IS GOING TO THINK IT IS POOP!" he wailed.

As you may or may not know, the Taekwondo uniforms are white. I rushed over to see the damage before he could go bury himself in his covers (and get cupcake all over the bed too). Thankfully it was just a tiny stain on the seam of his pants. I went to get a wet towel and he started wailing again, "I DON'T WANT EVERYONE TO THINK I PEED TOO!"

At this point we had about five minutes to get to class and my patience was at an all-time low. Yes, I felt for him, but it's always something. Plus, I really didn't think it was going to be noticeable.

I started with the motherly advice...

"No one is going to see it. If they do, just tell them it is a cupcake stain!"

Which quickly devolved into desperation.

"If someone says something mean, just tell them that they are stupi...wait...don't say that. Look, no one is going to say anything! I promise!"

During this whole episode, big brother Satchel was not being helpful at all. There was a time when Satchel, having developed his superego, was very good about realizing that his brother was sensitive and that his poor mother often needed help getting him on board with Team Oster's plans. That time has passed. Now big brother Satchel prefers to add insult to injury. He made matters worse by saying things like, "You are such a baby, Jiro!"

How I got Jiro in the car I will never know. Okay maybe I said something like, "I'll give you $10 if anyone says anything mean." Or maybe that's what I said to get him OUT of the car at the studio. Because in the parking lot I also had to deal with his latest fear of "EVERYONE IS GOING TO KNOW THAT I WAS CRYING!"

I usually just drop the boys off at the studio, but I offered to stay and watch/protect him from the mean old taekwondo students. Even that didn't appease Jiro. He replied, "You said you would watch last time and you just talked to the other mom instead!" So I promised to stand guard should anyone even think about saying anything to my baby. We wiped his tears off, and went inside.

This is the part where I had some serious maternal guilt. Was it the meanest thing ever to make him go in? Or was I building character?

I was proud of him for sucking it up, and once inside he seemed fine. I stood right by the railing and watched for a good ten to fifteen minutes. Jiro went through all of his patterns, got his stripe, and seemed quite happy. Then he snuck over to where I was and said, "I know Satchel told Connor. I saw him laughing at me."

I looked over at Satchel and called him over to me. Reluctantly he came over. "Did you tell Connor?" I asked, incredulous.

"No!" he said, smirking. He smirks when he lies.

"I can't believe you!!" I said in my meanest whisper.

"I promise," he said, trying to control the smirk. "We're just goofing off."

Now, I didn't see Connor laughing at Jiro, just laughing. And I didn't see a ripple effect of Connor telling every other kid in class. So, I let Satchel off of the hook.

But still! How sad that Jiro doesn't trust his brother? And how sad that Satchel was totally not sympathetic?

I had to stretch back in my brain to my own childhood. Was I that mean to my sister? Was she that mean to me? Probably. Do we still love each other? Yes.

Anyways, class ended and there was no one teasing or looking at Jiro. He still thought Satchel ratted him out, but there was no proof, so we just moved on.

Later when relayed the story to Warren, he simply reminded Satchel of the time he sharted in his pants at Chik-fil-A.

End of discussion.

Head Injury #2

It's been almost three years since we had to get Jiro's head glued together. The first time was in Kansas, at midnight.

There have been plenty of close calls and many a butterfly bandages since, but we had to take a second trip to the ER.

On Wednesday I thought it would be fun to take the monkeys swimming after camp. We were there for about 30 minutes before Jiro busted his head open on a metal pipe near the small green slide. He and Satchel were chasing each other and he tripped on something. I was sitting about ten feet away, but managed to miss the entire episode.

I saw the lifeguard run over, so naturally I did too. Jiro was wailing and holding his head. I picked him up and the lifeguard told me I could get a band aid if I needed one by the locker rooms. I started walking that way and by the time we got there, Jiro's face was covered in blood. Naturally it freaked him out, but I have to say I was extremely calm. I know heads bleed a lot, and Jiro has banged his up enough that I've stopped panicking.

Erin, the head lifeguard, also stayed calm. She did a very nice job stopping the bleeding, and once I could actually see the cut, I said, "I guess we should head to the ER, huh?" Had Warren been on duty, he might have opted for a butterfly bandage from Walgreens, but I was erring on the side of caution.

Erin bandaged Jiro up, Satchel went and got him a snack, and I took pictures. I actually had to tell him not to smile in this one.



We put on our cover ups, got our stuff together, and drove to Germantown Methodist. Thankfully it was not a busy night. Head injuries get you moved through pretty quickly though regardless. We were in triage after about 4 minutes and had a room maybe 5 minutes after that.

We were quite a sight in our toweled hoodies. As we walked to our room all of the nurses joked, "I wonder where you guys have been."



The doctor came to the room right away, and our only trauma of the evening was getting the JCC bandage off of Jiro's head so the doctor could see the cut. He thankfully said we could glue it, rather than stitch it, and went to get ready.

Meanwhile I tried to convince the monkeys that South Park was not an acceptable show to watch in the ER. Thankfully they changed the channel before the doctor came back. Jiro's head was glued in a matter of minutes and we were told to wait ten minutes before leaving. During that time a sweet nurse brought the boys each a popsicle and a cup of ice water.



Jiro has a nice bump, and can't swim for 5-10 days, but he's going to be just fine.

Camp Report: Week 2 Wrap Up

The monkeys gave All Sports Camp and enthusiastic thumbs up. They made friends, they learned new games, and they went on some super fun field trips to Putt Putt, the bowling alley, and the skating rink.

Satchel never did agree to swim, but he had a friend who didn't swim either, so they kept each other company all week.



I went with Warren to drop them off on Friday, hoping to snap a few pictures, but this is all that I got. As you can see, the monkeys preferred to be among the faction of boys who used the "free time" in the mornings and at lunch to play games. We had a bit of an issue mid-week when I realized that Jiro was opting to help his friends beat their games rather than actually eating during his lunch break, but we quickly worked that out.

What we weren't able to work out though was Satchel "losing" his iPod on Friday. By his report he put it in his locker before they left to go skating and it was gone when he got back. By the time he told Warren at pick up, most of the kids had already left, and it was pretty much too late to do anything about it.

I was in New York over the weekend and didn't get to talk to the camp director until Tuesday (my emails went unanswered over the weekend). She was sweet about trying to track it down, but since an entire weekend had passed since the incident I had little hope of it actually turning up.

I'm really upset about the whole situation. I'd like to go back in time and just not let the monkeys take their iPods and/or DSes to camp in the first place. When I signed them up for sports camp, it was to get them away from their electronics after all! But, being a softie, I wanted them to do what they wanted to do. They have an easy time relating to other kids through games, and I told myself it would help them adjust to their new environment.

What's most frustrating is that Warren actually gave Satchel a lock for his locker, which wasn't required. I argued on the side of, "If they let the kids bring the stuff to camp then they should provide a safe storage space," while Warren erred on the side of "You can never be too careful." Now as to why Satchel chose not to use the lock, well, he said it was hard to unlock. (He also said, "Mommy said I didn't need it.")

I'm also mystified as to why he would just put his iPod in his locker rather than in his bag in his locker. Or in his bag in his basket in his locker. I can only assume that being at Evergreen for all of these years where everyone knows everyone has made him unaware of the dangers of leaving expensive items in plain sight.

Sadly, we're having to chalk this up to learning a lesson the hard way.

And since week 3 of camp is also at Grace-St. Luke's, the monkeys are now among the kids who (wisely) do not bring electronics to camp.

Taekwondo Tourney

On Saturday, my mom accompanied the monkeys to their very first Taekwondo tournament. It just happened to fall on a day that I had to work and Warren had to take his praxis exams.

Satchel was the one who really wanted to go. Jiro waffled back and forth up until the day before. My mom reported that when it came time to come, he didn't put up a fight and happily went along.

Jiro's age group was first. They did the pattern of their choice and then drills.


I thought that they were just participating to get patches for their uniforms. It never occurred to me that they'd actually be judged. (Duh, tournament = competition!)


At about 10:30 I got a phone call and the little voice on the other end said, "Mommy, I won!" Jiro took the first place trophy for his drills! How awesome is that?


Satchel's group went next...


At noon, my mom called me again. I answered, "Please tell me that Satchel won something." He did--third place for his Do San pattern. "He's embarrassed," my mom said. (He wouldn't even let her take his picture!)

Since I was at work, I had to leave it up to her to solve the conflict. I was reminded of our last fishing trip when Jiro caught the hugest fish ever and Satchel just caught an ordinary one.

Satchel is so naturally good at everything, and Jiro is always in his shadow, so I was finding it hard to feel too sorry for him. Thankfully by the time I picked them up, Satchel's first words to me were, "Look at the awesome trophy Jiro won! And check out my medal." He was genuinely happy for him, and not at all embarrassed anymore.

My mom said she told Satchel that brothers don't compete, they support each other. After pointing out that they could technically compete someday of they had the same belts, he agreed with her and changed his attitude.

Thanks, Mom!

Five Finger Toe Shoes

For Satchels' birthday in April, he only wanted one thing--a pair of Vibram's Five Finger Toe Shoes. It's a good thing that's all he wanted because they run about $80.

Yes, they are hideous. I know. I tried a pair on. But there's just something about them. Satchel loves them and he wore them everyday until I made him stop. (More on that below.)

Wearing them has attracted lots of attention to his feet. From Fisherman's Wharf to the Delta Fair, numerous people have stopped to stare and say things like, "What the heck are those?"



Now let me just say this. I realize that these shoes were not made for eight-year-old boys, but I have been extremely disappointed in their durability.

He had them for about a week before I had to sew a hole in the toe. Since then, I've sewed a couple other holes as well. And as you can see from the picture, the latest hole cannot be sewn.



Additionally, these suckers STINK. Oh my lord, do they stink. I've scrubbed and scrubbed, but you cannot remove the funk.



In fact, we've scrubbed so much, the smelly part has started separating from the protective bottom sole.



It's really a shame. Satchel really does love these shoes. I finally had to tell him that he simply could not wear them any longer. I put him back in the Keen sandals that I bought him 2 years ago that somehow still fit and pretty much look like new. (And cost half as much, I might add.)

I emailed the company to see if they replaced or repaired their shoes when they fell apart, but I haven't heard back. (When the soles on my Chaco's wore out, they sent me a new pair.)

I realize that not all companies are going to offer a lifetime guarantee like Chaco. Keen doesn't, but I've found their shoes to be more than durable. When I pay $80 for a pair of shoes, I expect them to last more than 6 months. And not stink to high heaven.

Who knows, maybe they'll improve the quality in the future, but for now I'm doing my best to convince Satchel that wearing socks and normal shoes won't make his feet explode.

High Drama on the Highway

I feel that I need to preface this story by telling you how tired I’ve been this week. After a summer hiatus, Ashley and I started back running last Friday and continued this week on Monday and Wednesday (with plans for Friday). (On Tuesday and Thursday we are spinning and lifting weights.) The increased workouts, along with sleeping less than usual for a variety of reasons, has made me a bit of a zombie.

On Wednesday evening, I made plans for the Rock-n-Romp board (and their respective children) to do a site visit at our next venue, the Mid-South Corn Maze, and then go out to dinner together at the incredible Las Tortugas in Germantown. I was really, really exhausted and regretting the fact that I had made these plans, but the thought of the Las Tortugas reward kept me going.

Everything went fine and as we loaded up the car at 7:45pm to head home, Jiro asked me to unlock his window so he could wave goodbye to the Sweazys. I obliged and thought nothing of it until we were on the expressway and realized that Jiro was rolling his window up and down.

This is a major no-no.

“Stop rolling your window up and down,” I said calmly.

Instead of doing what I asked, he did the opposite. When he rolled his window down again and pointed out to Satchel what he had done, I did what I always do. I rolled it up for him and locked it.

This all happened just as we were about to merge onto Sam Cooper.

“MY FINGER!” I heard Jiro scream. “ROLL IT DOWN! ROLL IT DOWN!” I glanced in the back and noticed that his finger was actually stuck in the window. Oh my god! As guilt washed over me, I desperately tried to roll down the window, but it wouldn’t go.

Satchel was screaming too, clearly terrified of what might happen to his brother’s finger. He too was pleading with me to roll down the window. Jiro was more hysterical than I have ever seen him, and that’s saying a lot. I was definitely hysterical. “It won’t roll down! It won’t roll down!” I cried.

While I listened to my children’s wails a million things raced through my mind. How was I going to get the window down? What was warren going to say when he heard about this? There wasn’t anywhere to pull over and the mood in the car was quickly escalating.

“I don’t want my finger to fall off!” Jiro wailed.

“Please, Mommy!” Satchel moaned.

Oh my god oh my god oh my god why won’t the window go down?? I was trying to visualize whether opening the door would solve the problem, but surely opening the door with his finger stuck in it on the expressway was not a good idea. I then moved on to the scenario where I pulled over on the shoulder and attempted to break the window. But with what? My hand? Was I strong enough? Would the broken glass make this situation go from bad to worse?

Finally, I remembered that I had locked the windows out of habit. I quickly unlocked them and breathed for the first time in what felt like forever as I heard the window roll down. Jiro was relieved, a little angry, and still sobbing. “I hate you, Mommy,” he said.

Way to turn the knife! Did he think I had done this on purpose??

Then Satchel exclaimed, “He’s got a big black thing on his finger!”

Assuming it was a huge blood blister or worse, I was afraid to look in the back. I rubbed Jiro’s leg and tried to get him to calm down while I ran through the locations of the closest Minor Medical facilities in my mind.

The fact that I had already one kid in a cast and the other with a butterfly bandage on his head already did not make me feel any better about this already horrible situation.

Jiro was having a hard time calming down, and even Satchel joined in with the soothing. “Take a deep breath,” he instructed. “It will be okay.”

Now I felt genuinely awful and proud all at once.

Jiro continued screaming and ranting. He begged me not to tell Warren and then said pitifully, “I’m not going to school tomorrow.”

I was probably driving 85 and as soon as I saw the Highland exit, I told Jiro it wouldn’t be much longer. “There’s a Minor Medical right by the library,” I told him.

Once we were in stop-n-go traffic, I was able to turn around and really look at his finger. It wasn’t huge like I thought it would be, and there definitely wasn’t a blood blister. “Let’s stop at the gas station and get some ice,” I said.

We pulled into the parking lot, I grabbed the plastic baggie that once had crackers in it, and went inside to fill it with ice from the drink fountain. When I came back out and put it on Jiro’s finger, I could plainly see that the “big black thing” was a small grease mark from the window. There was no swelling and he had about 99% of his range of motion.

“I think we can skip the doctor,” I reported. “You’re going to be okay.”

I was hugely relieved, but also felt really silly for freaking out. I could have totally wrecked the car several times.

My kids are past the stage of thinking that they are going to die every time they see blood come out of some tiny cut somewhere on their bodies, so I trusted them to not go crazy over something relatively small. But it was the first time anyone had gotten any body part stuck in the window. I tried to think of some of the warnings Warren and I might have given them over the years. I’m sure one day one of us said, “Do you want to lose your fingers? Okay then, stop playing with the windows!”

I definitely think they will both think twice before playing with the windows again. And I’m definitely reconsidering the dire warnings we sometimes give.

“Do you want to get a grease mark on your finger? Then stop playing with the window!” It just doesn’t sound all that intimidating does it?

Wine, Apps, & Butterfly Bandages

On Saturday, I was invited to judge the appetizer contest at the SRVS Auction and Wine Tasting fundraiser. Let's just say that events like these (and parties like we had the night before) are why I will never be thin.

I tasted appetizers from twelve restaurants in about an hour, compared notes with the two other judges, and then decided on first, second, and third place. If that wasn't challenging enough, my date (the fab Aimee Lewis) and I took it upon ourselves to sample several of the hundreds of wines available.

I had to balance several dishes at once, take notes, snap pictures (to supplement my notes), squeeze through throngs of people, and chit chat all while wearing heels!

Here's a peek at some of what we tasted. Want to guess which one won?


Meanwhile, Warren and the kids were running errands. Well, Jiro was actually just running into things. As I left the fundraiser, I received this photo in a text from Warren:


Thankfully, it was quickly followed by this photo, which I quickly discerned was taken from my bathroom at home and not the E.R.


Poor Jiro. He is a pizza face, but I love him.

On a side note--anyone know how we can score a tube of the glue they use to seal wounds in the E.R.? You know, for future incidents. Just in case.

Kids & Pets

Last week I was standing in the boys' room sniffing audibly. "What is it?" asked Jiro.

"It smells like a fart in here," I replied. For whatever reason, this attracted the attention of Warren and Satchel.

"What kind of fart?" Warren asked.

"I don't know, maybe like one of the animals farted, but it's been ongoing for a day or so. Like maybe Olive (our cat) pooped in here somewhere."

Jiro looked around and said, "It was probably those guys," and motioned towards a group of nearby stuffed animals.

I love that kid!

If you read yesterday's column, Morning routine filled with drama, then you know our cat woke Jiro up by puking on him Monday morning.

My poor, sweet baby boy. Olive has been sleeping on him for weeks despite our best efforts to relocate her.

On Monday morning, I came in from the Y at 7am and found him crying in the foyer. He was disraught. And covered in cat puke. I went in to look at the bed and it too was covered in puke.

I'm saying puke, but it was really more like a hairball surrounded in doo doo.

Amazingly enough, Satchel was still in bed. "You know Olive puked in here, right?" I asked.

"What?" he said as he pounced out of bed.

Jiro washed his hands like ten times, took a shower, and then washed his hands a few more times for good measure.

Guess who got to do the laundry? That's right. Lucky me.

WKNO Listener Testimonial

Regular readers may recall that I did a listener testimonial for WKNO a year and a half ago. I never actually heard it play during the pledge drive, but Justin Willingham swears it did. Well, Saturday I had a chance to do a "do over." I was determined to sound peppy and give them a good sound bite to play over and over and raise thousands and thousands of dollars.

As Justin and I planned my visit, I asked what he thought about me bringing the monkeys. "Absolutely! If they want a tour, I'd be happy to do that, too. And if they wanted to say a few phrases for me and maybe a phone number or website, I could really use some new kids voices," he enthusiastically responded.

How could I pass up that kind of offer? I got the monkeys in a TV commercial this year, why not get them on the radio, right?

As we drove out to the station, I pointed to the voice in the radio and explained to the monkeys that we were going to visit my friend Justin and record some things to be played on the radio. I went over how I expected them to be quiet, to listen, not to run, and not to scream. They said they understood the rules. We even talked about going to Game Stop to look at potential birthday gifts as a reward.


The monkeys were charming and delightful until Justin showed us into the recording studio and let the monkeys put on headphones and talk into microphones.

Oh my god.

They giggled, they screamed, they burped, they sang the diarrhea song, they embarrassed the @#$! out of me. Finally I had no choice but to send them into the hall with my iPhone. I was finally able to record my spots, which again, Justin swears were good. Then I brought Jiro in to record his part. He was still kind of giggly, but he managed to do a pretty good job. He tried really hard to speak slowly and clearly. I hope that they can actually use him on the radio. I mean, how awesome of an achievement would that be for Mr. Four Speech Therapy Classes a Week? When Jiro was done, I sent him out and brought Satchel in. He put on the headphones, leaned into the mic, and completely froze!! Seriously. It was actually cute, but annoying too. Oh well.

Next it was time for the tour. The monkeys got their second wind and tore through the office building like, well, monkeys. Justin was all, "Let's be quiet, people are working," but that only egged them on. He took them to see the classical music library and before he could say, "Kacky and Darrell have a very tight system in here," Jiro was pulling CDs off the shelves and rearranging them. (I can hear Kacky cussing now!) Luckily, Satchel, who was using a conference chair as a Go-Kart, distracted him. Justin and I tried to turn off the lights and lock them in, but they followed us out.

I could go on, but I think you guys get the point. My favorite Justin quote of the day was, "Come on guys, I know you can behave because I've read about it."

Poor fellow, I hope he doesn't believe everything he reads!

Stray Thoughts

Just a few things I don't want to forget:

1. Last week Satchel asked me when Cleopatra's Day was. "Huh?" I asked. "You know, the day when we wear green," he said. I guess his Egyptian studies are clouding his brain!

2. Jiro sometimes calls me "Warmy." I can only assume this is because I am warm and snuggly (despite being totally buff, lol). Last week when it was warmer outside he said he was going to start calling me "Lovey." I'll take it!

3. Bath time is out of control. I can't stand having to micro-manage the cleaning when all the monkeys want to do is play. If Warren isn't home to supervise, I let them duke it out. Last night, Jiro put gum in Satchel's hair. The idea of removing it with peanut butter completely freaked Satchel out. He insisted I use scissors. I still remember the summer when Tracey, my twin sister, and I gummed each other. My grandmother, who was watching us, never once considered peanut butter. We both had bald spots!

4. Jiro discovered that he can fit in the dryer and that it is nice and warm, and spins!

5. Satchel has his first cavity. However, due to its location he didn't have to have it filled. (He will if it starts hurting.) This has provided new ammo for our daily "brush your teeth" sermons that are required to get the kids to do any basic hygiene. When I explained that I was tired of the complaining and that he should note that Warren and I never complained about brushing our teeth or getting dressed or anything like that, he responded with, "You're an adult. You ENJOY brushing your teeth!" Oh really?