Headin' south . . .

Today we headed to Indianapolis, to see Robert's mom and sister (not the one from Cali) who were up visiting from Kentucky. We had a little impromtu family reunion with family here from Kentucky, Indy and Chicago. We met at a park and then his niece decided to take her kids to the Children's Museum, so I took the kids over there while Robert visited with his family. Yep, I took all three kids to the museum with Crystal and her 2 kids. The kids were FABULOUS. There is so much to do there that they were well behaved and engaged the whole time. We are planning another trip down there in a couple weeks. . .

Harrison is jousting in the Lego Castle area.

A Lego Dragon

Harrison diggin in the Science area

Super Girl and Batman save the day!

Dustin digging . . .

Oh dear Lord, this gives me nightmares! Dustin behind the wheel. . .

Harrison had to read EVERYTHING!

Apparently, even Dinosaurs can pose like a superstar!

A couple of Dinosaurs in a nest. . .

Getting ready to dig for Dinosaur bones.

A few things. . . .

1. I spent Wednesday afternoon and evening in the ER. My doc thought I was having a stroke, the ER doc thought it could be an aneurysm. It was a stupid migraine. The ER was swamped with people freaking out about the Swine Flu.

2. My crazy week at work is coming to an end. Thank you Jesus!

3. I had a cowboy hat and boots on Thursday for our Hoedown Dinner. I came in the house making a bee line for the bathroom and my dog didn't recognize and bit my boob. Nice. She's a very nice dog and we have always said if someone breaks in we weren't sure if she would lick them to death. At least now I know that she would bite them . . . maybe only if they had a cowboy hat on.

4. Dustin has had a pretty decent week. Shhhh, don't jinx it, I need an easy weekend.

5. Robert's sister left her husband. So, the trip to California is off as she is moving to Finland, yes Finland. We are still traveling westward (I'm coming Jo!), but we won't be going all the way to California, and we may even dip into Georgia on the way home . . . hmmmm, who could we visit there??

Our normal . . .

I have had two comments from the last post asking how Dustin and the other kids feel about the changes we have had to make to keep Dustin safe. I started a comment and it got long, so I was going to edit the last post and it got even longer, so I decided I would address it as a post.

I know the readers who asked weren't thinking these changes were wrong, they just wanted to know how he felt, I will try to explain. I will use words that will probably piss people off, but you get me as I am. I really hope I don't bring on a slew of criticism with this answer, but here goes

The prime answer: He has no concept that it isn't "normal" for parents to do this.

Even though Dustin looks perfectly "typical" he is severely brain damaged due to prenatal alcohol exposure. Just last week the psychiatrist said to me (in his thick Indian accent) "I am 100% sure that Dustin has great damage to his frontal lobe. It simply does not work properly, and he has come a long way with what he can accomplish". It took my breath away being said like that. I have always understood that Dustin could accomplish more than the county DFS gave him credit or, but I think we may be pushing the limits as to what he can truly do and now is time to come to grips with that.

It is exceedingly difficult for people to meet Dustin and immediately understand he is "not right". He presents completely "normal" as a charming, if not childish, 14 year old. He is lanky, clutzy, sweet and communicates "normally". He is very kind and extremely helpful. He looks "regular". As a stranger you are GOLD to him because he loves meeting new people. He knows no stranger and you will immediately be his best friend.

Let's take a look at a normal conversation in the check out line at the grocery. . .

Dustin will not normally engage without being spoken to first. (took YEARS of reminders)

Cashier: Hi, did you find everything okay?
Me: Yes, thank you. (my snarky mouth thinking, "If I hadn't I would've asked you idiot")
Dustin: Can I pack the groceries.
Me: No thanks. (Oh dear Lord, I wouldn't have anything left looking normal, but thanks for starting in . . .)
Cashier: That's nice you wanted to help, most kids your age won't offer.
Dustin: I am a good helper, do you have any pets? I like potato chips.
Cashier: (a slight eyebrow raise) Oh really? How old are you?
Dustin: 12 . . . I mean 13 . . . Uh 14 . . . Right mom?
Me: Yes Dustin 14.
Cashier: What school do you go to?
Dustin: (Looks at me to answer and I do) He agrees shaking his head.
Cashier: Oh! That sounds fun. What is your favorite class?
Dustin: No, my mom planted stuff in the garden today. I am really good at Mario on the Gameboy.
Cashier: Oh, that's nice. (confused)
Dustin: Mom, when we get home can I have a snack since I was good at the grocery pleaaaassse? (with a little hopping and begging)

Then they kinda trail off not knowing how to continue the conversation. I know she is thinking, wow, she must really baby him, or something is really wrong with this boy. Usually we get a kind smile and silence for the rest of the transaction.

He is a 5 year old "trapped in the body of a game show hostess" . . . oh wait, that an obscure reference from the movie Say Anything. He is a 5 year old trapped in the body of a 14 year old. He may always be. I have accepted that from my end, but I will continue to push him to go farther and succeed more for him. The truth is, no one really knows how much he can advance, and why not give him every chance possible? Probable and possible are light years apart in some cases. . .

So, when he came to us he was like a 2 year old. He is now, 8 years later, like a 5 year old. We have come a long way. We are the only "normal" he will ever know. I struggle with things like television. He would enjoy Barney and Dora and Wonderpets all day. I was conflicted awhile ago with letting him watch what he wanted (baby shows) or getting him interested in a little bit more age appropriate shows like Drake and Josh or The Suite Life. We didn't tell him the "baby shows" were prohibited, but we told him it was time to switch the TV for the afternoon. Robert also introduced him to Brady Bunch and Leave it to Beaver and other shows from our childhood. He mostly is appropriate, still, he would choose Barney if it was on but we have stopped allowing him to watch those kinds of shows. It was time. Maybe it was selfish, but I couldn't let him any longer. He survived. It really wasn't even a fight.

So, the other kids? They have grown up with locks on the doors, door alarms, and constant supervision. At this point they don't know that this is odd. They will soon I suspect. But they know that their brothers "brain is broken" and that he requires different things than other children so I assume they will accept it well. The only thing that I think this has damaged is their ability to be alone. They are afraid to be upstairs without an adult. It is getting better as I force encourage them that is is okay, but it has been difficult. I was a very fearful child, so I am hoping it is more out of fear of being alone than the fact that I have ruined them. LOL

So, how does Dusin and the other kids feel about the changes? The rational, nice mommy answer is: Fine, they think it is normal. The bad mommy answer is: Who cares? It keeps him safe and me sane.

I'm not even sure I could raise a normal kid surrounded by normal at this point . . .

Opinions? Criticisms? Bring it on . . . I wanna hear it all.

Snippits. . .

1. We put in our garden this weekend. It was over 80 degrees and beautiful! I planted tomatoes, squash, zucchini, cucumbers, couple different peppers, and kohlarabi (just for my grandpa!) . . . Mmmmmmm! We shall see how successful we are. . .

2. We finally got our child locator functioning! ( We had to mail it back to the company because the base unit was broken ) It will work fabulously for Dustin when he runs away, I think. . . a later post on that.

3. This is my crazy celebration week at work . . . I offered my husband up for a project, I bit off more than he could chew. It is done and we are still married however, so it was success. The remainder of the week is CRAZY busy.

4. My hair is driving me bonkers, I wish I could pull-off bald.

5. I am starting to freak about my busy summer. For you new readers, I head to schoolage summer program at the daycare and I do 9 (yes she said 9!) Field Trips a week. Four of those are swimming trips! Argh! It is fun and it makes my summer go really fast, but I start freaking about it right about now. . .

6. We have definintely decided to head across the country this summer. I cannot wait! I am looking forward to all the cool things we can stop and see, I would love some suggestions if you have any . . .

I totally stole it . . . .

. . . from Cathy. It actually brings me to tears to see kids enjoying creating art. This is cool, Harrison LOVES this song. So much so that I had to print out the lyrics for him because I was tired of arguing about the words.

Done . . .

I would change a few things for the next bag . . . which I already having cooking in my head . . . but here's the finished bag. I finally got used to the way the plastic crochets about halfway up the bag, so it is definitely a learning piece which means it is seriously flawed in places. I still HATE making the plarn, but I am getting faster at it. I really need to teach my kids at daycare to make it for me and I'll have TONS of balls of plarn . . .

Awesome . . .

So I am cruising right along in my plastic bag project and it is super easy and fun. I really hate making the "plarn", but I got into the groove of it late last night and made a big ol' fat ball that I think will finish off the bag. I hope to be done today. I still have no idea how to read crochet patterns (I haven't really tried) so I am inventing my own style. We shall see how it turns out. I want to finish it today for Earth Day and start one more . . . I will get to crocheting as soon as I get home from work, it's sitting on my chair calling my name . . . can you hear it?

You can find the instructions for making plarn here. (waving . . . Hi Cindy!) And please go check out her creations using cassette tape, VCR tape, and bread bags. She makes scrubbies, can cozies, hats, and Too stinkin' cool! I have a feeling I will be crocheting with plastic for a long time. . .

I have one problem, I don't use the bags from the store. I use totes. I do however have a solution. We ask people to bring us their used store bags into the daycare so we can reuse them for soiled clothing. When we ask to donations, we get oodles and oodles of bags. Usually so many we don't have room to store them. So now I will have an endless supply of plastic bags, and be fashionable with my crocheted bags!

A new adventure . . .

I am crocheting a bag made of grocery bags. I was alerted to their existence a few months ago on Facebook, and I was quite frankly afraid of trying. My neighbor got out of her car on Saturday and she had two. I asked her where she got them and she said she made them and that they were easy. I made the "plarn" today (plastic yarn) and began crocheting tonight. I will keep you apprised of how it went. . . So far it is fun! You can find all sorts of coolio things on this site.

A fine mess . . .

I worked my tail off in the yard today. I took care of my house and the vacant house next door. I have done the yard over there for the past year and I will continue doing it again this summer. I cannot handle the yard overgrown, and it is small so I would rather take care of it than have it an eye sore on the block. I mowed, trimmed, raked, used the blower and weeded my beds. I also spread 8 bags of mulch out front and 80 pounds of cow manure out back in the garden. My hands are stained red from the mulch and my nails will never be the same. I hate wearing gloves.

I am a mess, but I feel good. I love yard work. It gives me a huge sense of accomplishment. I even took some of my plants out to the porch . . . ah, spring.

A letter to my baby girl . . .

Dearest McCartney,

Last night you threw the mother of all fits got really sad. If you recall it started because you have decided you are afraid of the cat. You know, the cat that has been with us since before you were born. The cat that never bothers you, that loves you and you give tons of attention to . . . yeah, that one. The cat must have liked the ruffles on the bottom of your adorable dress and tried to grab your ankle. Remember my darlin' that the cat has no front claws. He cannot hurt you. But that did not stop the screeching that may or may have busted eardrums of the people on our block your apprehension. Of course you knew it was beautiful spring day and the front door was open, so where did you run my darling? Of course, the front door so the neighbors could better hear your blood curdling screams share our experience and perhaps have the broken eardums bleed even more feel sorry for you. It took at least 15 minutes for you to calm down after that calamity tell us how you really felt, then we heard the jets fly over.

The jets were doing a fly over of the new ballpark on opening night. As you know pumpkin, we live close to downtown, so we stepped outside to see them fly back over. That was fun! Until of course, it was time to go inside. Wow! Cue the screaming You really expressed your displeasure. You do such a good job of making me want to get in the car and drive to Nebraska making sure we all know what you like and don't like. You really excel at the hollering communicating my darling. THAT is something to be proud of! That screaming match conversation lasted about 10 minutes.

Then, the last straw end of our evening was the fit you threwconversation we had when I used the word "bedtime". Holy Mercy! If you will recall this was the point that I lovingly snatched you by the arm took you by the hand and marched you up the stairs. I endured your screeching and the shouts of "I hate you!" words while I took off your clothes and put your pajamas on. I left you screaming and kicking snuggled alone on your bed. You did attempt to come down the stairs one time, but at this point you knew my patience was far exceeded and once you saw my face turn and look at you, you ran back up the stairs it was bedtime . . . screaming all the way.

Your daddy was so unhappy that I was getting all the abuse attention he decided that if he liked being married he better take over chose to go upstairs and sit in the hall until you went to sleep. It was then that I decided I would run far far away, before I gouged my eyes out with the potato peeler go to Target and run some errands.

Honey, you may wonder why mommy is taking the time to type all this out for you. I am doing this so that I will have it to show to your first boyfriend because he needs to know what he is getting himself into how much your mommy loves you.

For the love of all that is holy, please do not put mommy through this again tonight I love you darling!

Mommy

An inspiration . . .

Isn't it funny how you get sucked into these blogging groups? I have my adoptive/foster parenting blog circle, then I have my local's blog circle, then I stumbled upon this IVF blog circle. I began reading Mandy's blog when she lost her twin girls during week 19 of her pregnancy.

I have followed Mandy's story as she struggled to make sense of her world without her girls. I have become a regular reader who gets a little stressed if I don't see a blog post from her for a few days. You see, she is once again expecting. I began to pray for Mandy and her family as the new little one is formed within her. I recently decided to make little "Sherbert" a blanket and I crocheted the twins names into the corners with beads. I was so thrilled with the way it turned out.

I mailed it last week and Mandy blogged about it today. Go on over and take a peek and give Mandy some comment love!

Easter Sunday . . .

He arose. . .

or as Dustin said once when asked what Easter was about . . . "Jesus popped up!"

Earworm . . .

I have one. I think it started with the new show Cupid the other day. Which if you haven't watched you really should. It is fabulous! Anyway, there was a scene where they do karaoke, mariachi karaoke no less, and 2 characters did this song. My littles started in, and now I cannot stop singing it. I remember having Elton and Kiki Dee on 45. . . . (all those versions on YouTube have embedding disabled)

And my heart swelled . . .

Yesterday I had my son, Harrison's, parent-teacher conference. It was wonderful. She said that he is a joy to have in class. That even though she knows that he knows everything she is teaching, that he is still respectfully taking it all in. (I know I am his mom, but he is a freaking GENIUS) She said, it is as though he is listening to see if he can find some new tidbit of information in there to absorb. She said kids like Harrison tend to be arrogant or snotty about knowing what the teacher is teaching, or simply don't listen because they know the material. She also said that he is the first 1st grader in all of her years of teaching who not only knows all the conventions of writing (like grammar, punctuation, spelling, etc), but actually puts them to use.

She said he amazes her.

I swelled up with joy and pride.

It was especially nice because he was sitting there next to me in those little 1st grade chairs listening intently as she praised him. It was too cute. He sat up straight and tall and crossed his hands in front of him at the table. I enjoyed every minute of it. He struggles with a little tad of anxiety and he worries terribly what other's think of him so it was brilliant that he got to hear all this!

She did mention that he struggled a little the last quarter with some behavioral issues like talking over others and being in other people's business. She said he was emotional and distracted but had shown great improvement in the last 6 weeks. I told her that we up-ed his dosage of Focalin 6 weeks ago. She stared at me, mouth open. She said she usually isn't a fan of medication, but it obviously works for Harrison. I was thirlled that the break-out behaviors we were seeing stopped immediately after up-ing the dose. I was also thrilled that yet another person can see that meds aren't always for "bad" kids and aren't always so horrible.

I will do whatever helps my son be a productive student and a loveable child, meds or no meds. I think it is Jill who says, "Better living through pharmaceuticals". I love it!

Getting excited . . .

A couple years ago my husband mentioned driving across the country to see his sister who lives in California. His sister went out to Cali the day after high school graduation and married, had babies, and hasn't returned but a couple times. The last time being in the 90's. He misses her like crazy and would love to see her.

We are in Indiana people.

That is a long drive.

With three kids.

I have resisted thus far with reasons as to why it is impossible. This reason's included : I may be tempted to leave Dustin in Missouri, we wouldn't want to travel with kids in diapers, I may leave Dustin in Colorado, we wouldn't want to travel with kid's who are potty training, I may leave Dustin in New Mexico, gas is too expensive, I may leave Dustin in Oklahoma, I hate riding in the car, I may leave all the kids in Illinois. You get the picture.

With the exception of being tempted to leave the children standing on the side of the road as I cry uncontrollable curled in the fetal position in the trunk of the car clicking my heels together to just be home, all those reasons are no longer valid. It is time to acquiesce. We are driving across the country this summer.

When I finally told him I would consider it, I told him it would only be possible if I could stop near the great stinky lake and visit with Jo and meet Little Man, Squid, Pea, and June Bug. He was more than happy that I would consider the trip and agreed to the meet and greet!

So, If any of you, my blogging friends, are within the states we will be traveling through (we will head there on a northern route and back on a southern route) I would LOVE to make it a bloggy-friend meeting vacation as well! Let me know . . . but keep in mind that meeting me would entail meeting the whole Rouse family (maybe even the dog, but not the bird), warts and all! :) And I promise I won't stay more than 4 days while I eat all your food, sleep on your couch and wait on my flight back to Indiana because I cannot take ONE MORE MINUTE in the car with my children!

I am sad that we will not be anywhere near Minnesota to see all the FAB bloggers up there . . . when I learn top embrace the frozen tundra we will head in your direction! (and of course, Georgia is out of the path as well . . . so sadly, no Lisa-time this visit)

Peace!

Anyone deal with this . . .

Dustin cycles through behaviors.

We have . . .

1. The torment the animal phase. It is just what it sounds like. He steps on the dogs feet, pulls her tail, kicks her, throws stuff at her. He is particularly fond of throwing things at her that will stick to her fur. He grabs the cat and won't let him go. He holds him around the neck so the cat cannot get away. He has been known to stick the cat down his pants so he can take him to another room to "pet" him. One time the cat got a new "do" with an entire bottle of hairspray. He doesn't save this for our furry friends, the birds get poked with long things like straws and sticks. He recently poured a coke over Caesar our African Grey. He has popped the heads off fish trying to give them "hugs". It is not a sensory issue, he torments.

2. The eat everything in site, hoard, steal, and/or gorge yourself stage. This one is currently having it's way at our home. Food gets stuffed under couch cushions, under things, in pockets. He saves cheese for later in shoes. He hides an entire box of fudgesicles under the bed for later. Chips and salsa are poured into a bowl and are left in the shower. You cannot have chips anywhere in the house during this stage if you actually want to eat them. We thought we had a fabulous hiding place in the laundry room . . . he just found it after success for 3 months. He doesn't just hoard, he eats 6 pudding cups at a time, leaving the sticky lids stuck to the walls going up the steps. He will eat 40 pizza rolls if not supervised and then will throw a huge tantrum in 30 minutes because we are "STARVING" him. We "NEVER FEED" him. He hates us and will tell everyone we are trying to kill him by not letting him have food. Good times.

3. The runaway or threaten to phase. He runs out of the house 2-3 times a day, sometimes just to the doghouse (it is huge - but it grosses me out and he knows it). Or every time we say something he doesn't like he says, "I'm outta here!" or my favorite, "I should've picked a different family!" You need to strategically place yourself between him and the escape route every moment of the day so you can grab clothing as he tries to push past you to get to the door. This one is escalating to actually running and hiding, hence the police visit last week.

4. The "I do not want to eat anything except pizza rolls" stage. Hello, how many bags of pizza rolls can one kid eat. Not so much a behavior issue except when I limit his pizza roll consumption and/or run out and then there is hell to pay!

5. I want this, no I don't this stage. Dear sweet Lord, my least favorite. (although they all are my least favorite while going through them)

D:Can I have a Pop-Tart Mom?
Me: Sure Dustin. (makes Pop-Tart) Here you go darling.
D: Why did you make me this! I hate Pop-Tarts! I don't want it!!!!!!!!!!!
Me: Okay, put it away for later.
D: Can I have a bowl of cereal

or

D: Can I play the Nintendo?
Me: Sure.
D: I hate you for making me always play this stupid game!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!

Lather, rinse, repeat

6. The getting up in the middle of the night phase. This is the scariest one for me ever since I found an entire box of spent matches in the living room one morning shortly after he moved here. This one usually goes hand with the crazy overeating stage. Door alarms could quite literally be lifesavers.


Sometimes they last 2 weeks, sometimes 4 weeks. At least they don't happen at the same time for the most part. As soon as I think I can take no more, they usually dissipate and we are left to tend to another, yet different, cycle of crazy.

Heard around our house . . .

McCartney: Mommy, if Hannah Montana quits being Hannah Montana in Hannah Montana the movie this weekend, and is only Miley, can I take her place?

**********

My mom bought McCartney Heely's while in Flordia. She rolled into the dining room and promptly fell. (she does a lot of that) . . .

McCartney : Wow! I was heeling!
Harrison: Actually that is called falling.

How bad can it be . . .

I seriously needed a haircut. My stylist only works at the place I go to two days a week. Tuesdays is one of them. I called early this morning to beg her to fit me in and thank heavens she had an open slot at 10:15. I am blessed to have a flexible work schedule most days and I took the time slot.

This salon is in a small town north of here and it only takes me about 15 minutes to get there from my work. I was expecting to be back in less than an hour. I sat in the chair, we discussed the annoying parts of my hair and she went to chopping. She disappears in the color closet and I say, "Oh, I didn't want a color today." She says, "Oh, well we are coloring it, it looks bad."

It's a good thing I adore her.

So today's question is, how bad does your hair have to look for you stylist to demand a color?

(So, I have the last pink in my hair until at least September. I swim way too much in the summer and the pool would turn pink if I colored it any more this season.)

Monday Mumbo-jumbo . . .

This weekend I took on a project that I was not prepared for. I tore up the floor of the dining room. It sucked. I got into it about 20 minutes and sat in the middle of the floor and cried. But, it is done and it is better.

******

Spring break is to Dustin like oil is to water. Holy mercy his behavior was of the charts. I would've gladly exchanged him for a meno-pausal hippopotamus doped up on ritalin and sporting a thong that is 4 sizes too small. It would've been calmer around my house . . . get the picture?

******

I had a fabulous late lunch at the Firefly Coffee House yesterday will a mom who "gets it" on so many levels! She is awesome and I love her company. I think this could be the beginning of a good friendship. I took McCartney and she drove me bonkers, and Jill rolled with the punches! Yay. I also saw my dear friend Peggy and her hubby there for the open house. For anyone in the Fort, drop by the Firefly and see some stuff from local artists that you can purchase. Not only will it support local artists, but you will get some FAB stuff for next to nothing!

******

Also, for anyone in the Fort, you MUST go check out House of Greens! Awesome food, great prices. It is my new favorite lunch destination, and oh-so-close to work!

A green thumb . . .

The year Harrison was born we planted tomatoes along a dog kennel we had. They took over the area and we had loads and loads of tomatoes. They were awesome and I have wanted to grow tomatoes like that for some time. I grew up with a garden at my grandfather's house and I can remember eating all sorts of food right from the garden. I loved munching on kohlrabi and I ate tomatoes like apples. I can remember running my hands over cucumbers to take off the prickly things in order to munch on them raw while I was swinging on the my swingset. I also recall sitting for hours and snapping beans with my grandma. One year, they grew popcorn that grew 12 foot tall. We had popcorn coming out our ears for months! I remember putting it in brown paper bags and popping it in the microwave even before there was microwave popcorn.

The last few years we have not been able to have a garden since our last few renters have had dogs. We share the back yard, and each renter had dogs that would tear u[ a garden. The last renters, as kind as they were, had dogs that ravaged my grass. Last summer we did lay sod and it is coming back about 50 percent this spring. I will definitely have to re-seed in a couple weeks.

Over the last few days, I have spent many hours working in the back yard and cleaning up all the winter crud. I also demolished a wooden A frame spring set that the last renter kindly left us. One of the brackets has bent over the last year, and it was no longer safe. So, I spent the weekend, cutting it apart, moving landscaping timbers, and moving pea gravel. The kids were super helpful in moving rocks, which saved my back! Yesterday we raked and swept, and reset pavers that darling Dustin pulled up looking for bugs last fall and decimated.

I cut the swingset area in half and moved a play house in that area with the pea gravel. The remaining half I cut in with the 4x4's from the swingset and made a small garden. Robert and McCartney worked hard at turning over the soil and breaking everything up. Today we spent a couple hours in the car visiting Starbuck's and getting coffee grounds for the garden. It is raining sporadically and it made me quite happy mulching in bag after bag of coffee grounds to make my soil ready for planting soon. We have decided on tomatoes, cucumbers, bell peppers, squash and zucchini. Robert and McCartney are making it their project. we shall see how it goes.

And by the way . . .

. . . having jobs with kids such as ours DOES NOT mean you know what we parents deal with. Oh heavens, if the professionals in my sons life could spend 3 days to a week with him and see what it is we do on a daily or minute by minute basis I would LOVE it! So don't profess to live in my shoes because you have had jobs in the field. . .

We are all so different . . .

I am gonna ramble. I know most of you are thinking, "Isn't that what you do every day Sheri?" But you are gonna get stream of consciousness today . . .

I was thinking the other day about blogging. I have often wondered if I should've blogged anonymously and made up cute names for all my kids. At the time I started blogging I didn't even know people did that sort of thing. I was bluntly honest. I suppose that is my personality in real life. People who I talk to on a daily basis get an earful of my life, probably more than they want.

Then I started thinking, "Do they really?". They get what I want them to hear. They get snippets. They get a small sampling of what I am dealing with at the moment. As do you, my dear readers. You don't get the back story all the time, or the ideas that brought me to the decisions I make at any particular time. Even though I am a storyteller in every aspect of my life, I wouldn't have the time or the effort to explain to everyone how I can to those conclusions or how each and every thing that happened today affected me and added to the frustration I let out here on my blog. No one would want to read all that.

Blogging is important for me for two reasons. One being . . . it fulfills my love of being nosey! I love to get involved in people's lives. Who among us hasn't talked about someone, whose blog they read, in normal conversation and referred to them as a friend. For example, the other day someone at work was talking about their child's asthma flaring up and I said, "Oh my friend Yondalla has had a rough time with her asthma lately as well." How many times have I started a sentence with, "This one lady whose blog I read. . . " Or I will say, "Wow, Cali is going in for a doctor's appointment today. She should be having her baby soon. I can't wait." Then someone asks who Cali is and I have to say, "Well I haven't really met her. I read her blog everyday." People think I'm nuts. Please don't tell me I'm the only one who does this.

The second reason is that it allows me to vent. I can rant and rave about what I am dealing with and you all get it. You encourage me. You make me feel not so alone. I read your stuff and think "Wow, you clean up pee just as much as I do!" It is cathartic.

And then there are those times that we are attacked by trolls. Torina recently was a victim or a troll attack. I began thinking, how can someone attest to what is going on in any one of our homes? You can't. I may think Kari is a "mother of the year" but she has her times when she questions her ability to parent her kids. She feels as though she has failed at times and worries about the future. Claudia is up front and honest about her flaws in parenting her hard kids. She honestly proclaims that some of the things she deal with are her own issues. Cindy honestly blogs about the mental illness that runs rampant in her kids and her inability to help the situation. We all have our issues, our ways of dealing with them, and our ways of blogging about them.

I will be honest and put myself out there. . . there are times I read a post written by the mom of a special needs kid and think, "Wow. You think that was difficult? Come spend the day with Dustin!" Or I may think, "Hmmm. You get PCA hours and I get none." I am certain there are those that may think, "Sheri, get over yourself, that is nothing compared to what I deal with." We all have our own set of experiences. We come from different places and I may not know what lead to your exasperation. I wasn't there. It is easy for me to think you have it easier that particular day. There were times when I started finding you all blogging that I thought "How can they write that about their child?" I didn't skewer you, I read farther. I read the daily frustration with medications that aren't working, therapists who don't get it, doctor's who wash their hands of the situation, and insurance companies who make you fight for basic care. I see the hurt coming from friends and family members who shun your family and your kids. I read about the feeling of isolation in your communities and your fights with the law. I feel your disdain for the people who caused this trauma to be happening to your child. I see your heart! I read about your love for you child DESPITE the trauma. I live it. I get it.

I may say things that outsiders don't understand. I may use words that in the heat of the moment sound harsh or cruel. You don't live in my world. You don't understand that by saying those things here, on my blog, that I can then walk back into the playroom, hug my child and deal with whatever they throw at me because I got it out! Out of my mouth, out of my head. I had people say, "I've been there."

You (collectively) can assume all you want about me, about us (my bloggy friends), but you have no idea. As much as I love all my regular reads I don't profess to know what happens in their family just as you have no clue what happens in mine.

The written word is a sharp tool. I am super sarcastic in real life and I am certain that sometimes I come across as rough in the written arena. I have written many a comment on other's posts that someone has mistaken my intention. I can them reread it and see where that could've been construed that way. It is a difficult medium, especially when you come as I do, to simply "vomit" out your frustrations so that you can adjust yourself and better tend to your family.

I am frustrated. I am frustrated with people being "attacked". I may bring some of that heat on myself. But "you" do not know me. "You" do not live my life just as I do not live yours. I may be Sheri Rouse from Indiana and then again I may be Terri Spouse from Los Angeles. You just don't know do you? You may catch people doing horrible things to children and then again you may destroy healthy families that work hard and have a thankless job.

Clean slate . . .

Here's hoping today is the first day of our clean slate. Dustin had a pretty good Sunday after the incident on Saturday. The police were across the street at a neighbor's house later in the night and Dustin asked if they were for him. I told him honestly that I wasn't sure. I told him they could be watching out for him, for all I knew at that time they could've been. Later I saw then going into the neighbor's house. I let him believe they were looking out for him. Bad? I thought it may help keep him indoors and safe.

One of the things I was most sad about when I sat down Saturday evening after all the hub-bub was a statement the dispatch operator made. She asked if he had any friends in the area where he could have ran to. I said, no. She said, "There's not ANYONE in the neighborhood he plays with?" No. He is a 3 year old trapped in the bod y of a 14 year old. He is never without us. He is in direct line of sight supervision at all times. Every once in a while someone mentions something a 14 year old "should" be doing and I grieve for the life he should've had.

We have researched GPS units and found the Brickhouse Child Locator. It looks like a watch and will only come off with a key. We are buying one. Anyone have any experience with them? Heard and negatives? It's very expensive, but anything to keep the little booger safe. I hope it does the trick. The police suggested it and we found one on Ebay . . .here's to hoping we don't get outbid. If so, I am ordering one this week. It is actually expandable and can be used with 4 bracelets, so we could use it for all the kids while camping or something. Technology!

So, I hope this week is uneventful. I don't think I could handle much more excitement.

Pure fear . . .

You could tell when Dustin opened his eyes this morning he was "off". Robert actually laid down with him for another 2 hours hoping he was extra tired. McCartney and I went to a youth auction at a friend's church and he was pretty good for Robert.

When the late afternoon came, it went downhill fast. He was annoying the littles and I called him over to talk to me. He took off toward the door. We do this often. Usually he stops at the door or on the porch. This time he headed down the block like he usually does, turns around toward the house, crosses his arms on his chest and defies us to chase him. If we don't he usually comes back.

Tonight has different.

I was keeping my eye on him through the windows without him seeing me. He came back to the porch and I moved to the front door so I could look through the peep hole. By the time I got there he was gone. I moved back to the front window and I couldn't see him. I tried not to panic. I waited a couple minutes for a glimpse of him. I really didn't want him to take off.

He was gone.

By this time, he had been out of the house for 10 minutes. I walked outside and looked around the house. He was not anywhere he normally hides. I was beginning to panic. I got in the van and decided to drive around. He could not be seen.

It was getting colder and starting to get dark.

I went down to the park that is about a half a mile away. I was panicking now. I called Robert and asked him what I should do. I went around the "circuit" that is the one way street that our house is on, to the park, and back to our house on the adjacent one way street. Nothing. I started freaking out that he had gone to the river behind our house and began imagining the worst.

I call 911.

There were immediately about 6 cars in the neighborhood. I came home to the house to talk to the officer and the supervisor. They were very understanding. They understood he looked "typical". They "got" that he was a 3 or 4 year old in a 14 year old body. They were kind and helpful. They asked for another description and pictures. They were on it. The main officer was reassuring. I was a mess. It was dark.

He had been gone 40 minutes.

I was standing outside in the yard and looked at the empty house next door. I said, "The house next door is empty. Could he be in there?" The officer ran in and apparently the apartment upstairs was unlocked. He was there. In an house that has been empty for well over a year that has no electricity. I cried when they brought him out.

The officer gave him an earful. (the only other time I called 911 he got a puppet)

We are researching a GPS locator.

It's going to be a long summer.

Thrifty project . . .

So I am not done with McCartney's room. I haven't finished girly-ing it up yet. As if the walls that ooze pink aren't enough! *wink*

I have had these frames laying under my desk at work. I got them at Goodwill on a 50% off day about a year ago. I used 99 cent acrylic paint and then added the words. I printed the words using Wackadoo font and then rubbed pencil on the back of the paper. Then I traced the words onto the frames on the front side of the paper. This leaves a faint pencil line and I used a $2 paint pen to copy over the pencil.


I really wanted to paint polka dots on the wall, but the walls have this funky texture on them. I knew it would be difficult to get them to look straight so I went to Hobby lobby and bought these luan circles. They were 57 cents for the small ones and 90 cents for the large ones. I used more acrylis paint and they match the dots on the comforter. And it helps tone down the large expanse of pink wall.
I have seen people do these name plaques and thought they were adorable! I looked at the wooden plaques at the hobby store, but I wasn't going to spend upwards of $5 on one. I had an old shelf I ripped apart and used the back of it for the plaque. Of course more acrylic paint and the paint pen did the trick. The stars were also luan peices from the hobby store. They were 4 for $1.49. The ribbon was from my gift wrapping supplies. The cute butterfly hanging on the edge of the shelf was $1.99 and half off!

Since the butterflies were 50% off, of course we had to have another! This one and the baby under it hangs on netting above the bed. (We'll see how long that lasts!)

Apparently the resident DIVA likes it.

Sheri's famous Chicken and Dumplings in pictures. . .

Mix together:

5 cups flour
3 eggs
1 1/4 cup of broth
1 tsp garlic
1/2 Tspn Baking Powder
salt and pepper

While you are preparing dumpling dough, put some chicken stock on to boil. I used chicken breast that I have boiled and shredded, but sometimes the family just wants dumplings with no chicken.

Mommy's little helper

Flour the counter and roll out mixed dough (dough will be thick and springy)

Cut into long strips with pizza cutter lengthwise and then crosswise to make
strips about 1 inch by 3 inches.

Gather them up in a big wad. They will come apart in the boiling stock.

Drop in boiling broth - they will cook through in about 3 minutes.

They plump when you cook 'em.

Enjoy!

Mmmmm!

(crossed posted on my recipe blog)

I found it . . .

What to do, what to do . . .

Alright moms, I need some advice. Some help. Some solutions. Some empathy. Some ideas. Some criticism. Whatever you got for me, I'll take it. I'm gonna put myself out there . . .

Dustin, over-all, is doing okay. School is looking up and he is only getting a step (breaking a rule gets you a "step") or two a day. That, my fiends, is progress. But we a struggling at home with him running out of the house again. We had a brilliant streak a couple months ago that when we saw that "I'm gonna run!" gleam in his eyes, we would have him take his pants off. He certainly wouldn't run out of the house without pants off! Right?

Sure. That worked until this week when it started getting warm. yesterday afternoon, I got a call at work from Robert who told me that Dustin was down the block . . . in his underwear and no shoes. I told him not to even go outside, because we know that makes Dustin run farther and more erratically (we live on a busy street) and to wait for 20 minutes. If he didn't return call the police. I could not leave work. We were terribly short handed and I knew I would be of no help anyway.

I told him we needed to "change it up" (thanks for the phrase Lisa!). I told him to try a new approach when he came home. Instead of grabbing him and hollering reprimanding him, grab him and hug him and tell him that you were "So scared!" and that you thought he was "Lost!" and that you have to see him to "Keep him safe!". In other words fake it act like you were SO worried! I told him to choke down the way he really wanted to react and try something new. I told him to offer him a snack and have him sit with him and watch a show together, all the while telling him how scared he was that Dustin was not safe. He did and it worked. Dustin's attitude and demeanor changed immediately.

I did the same thing when I got home. I even faked a little sob when I hugged him. (I am going to hell) I figured that punishment doesn't do a darn thing for his FAS raddled mind and all it doesn't is punish us. I HAVE to find a way to keep him safe inside the house so he does not get lost down the street or become a pancake on the road. It feels so wrong and like we are giving in to "his demands", but at this point I am far too concerned with his well-being to worry about "giving in". Am I wrong?
Am I creating a monster? (oh lord! it can'It be much worse) Also, last night was pretty darn good in the behavior category. I don't think he hollered at me once!

I look at it like this:

1. I may "look" like I am giving in to him and rewarding him, but truly I am winning. He is safe and we are not "that family" with the "mentally handicapped kid" who runs around in his underwear! In this world, the police shouldn't be knocking on my door and CPS will not come to check that we are not negligent and that he has clothing, and medication for his issues.

2. If we punish by removing TV or games or computer or simply give him timeout, we are lookin' for trouble. This is when his brain goes into overdrive thinking about what he can sneakily do, what he can destroy and who he can punish for his boredom. This is when the anger comes and the impulsivity sky-rockets. This is when he takes off out the door.

3. Is the punish making a difference anyway? NO! His brain is broken! If something isn't working why are we still doing it?

4. The "littles" already know Dustin plays by a different set of rules. I think we have a done a good job informing them that our expectations for Dustin's behavior is lower than theirs. I don't believe they feel slighted or will attempt to "work the system" to get away with more. (well, anymore than a typical 5 and 6 year old would!)

I need some input ladies! Help me! Give me some comment love. . .

Cayenne puts up with so much . . .

McCartney was supposed to be going to sleep. . .

And the green grass grew all around, all aroud . . .

So the title had nothing to do with this post, but OMG I see grass peeking through the brown ground! Spring is a-coming! With all the other excitement this week, I forgot to tell you about my adventure in home improvement this week. . .

On Friday, Robert and I took advantage of our special needs ministry's mom and dad's night out. What oh what would a fun-loving, adventurous couple do on a free night? Go to the fabulous sushi buffet and to the mart of walls. Excitement? Not so much.

Anyhoo, at the Mart I found a Hannah Montana quilt on clearance for $13! I bought it and the sham and planned on putting it back for McCartney for Christmas. The girl loves anything with Miley's face gracing it. We have joked that they will attempt to sell ANYTHING with Hannah Montana emblazoned upon it, even poop on a stick.

Hannah Montana Poop on a stick! Bwahahaha.

Well, Saturday I decided to take the bed upstairs that Robert had used while he was immobile. (He is getting better by the day! Yay!) I briefly thought about returning it the attic then I got a brilliant streak. . . I'll make the playroom McCartney's room! You see, right now, she and Harrison share a room and they drive us nuts at bedtime.

I really should've thought about all the work that would be involved. I spent most of the weekend, sorting toys into boys and girls piles, sorting stuffed animals into his and hers piles, moving furniture, splitting dressers, cleaning, and painting, rearranging closets . . .

Yes, we opted to "paint the mother pink". (Obscure MTV reference, anyone? Anyone?)

Now I am the proud mother to a little girl who has a room the color of Pepto-Bismol. She has one of those mosquito net things over her bed, stuffed animals galore, and a little table to play with her tea set or to color on. It is fabulously yummy and I gave her the Hannah Montana bed set. She was THRILLED! My mom is in Florida (you suck mom!) and she informed me today she bought a HM wall mirror, lamp and wall clock also. She will be in Disney heaven!

The best part? If you don't count the $13 bed spread, I spent $20 in paint. That is it! Yay me!


The look on my baby girls face in her froo-froo girly room? Priceless!

Scared the other half . . .

After the hospital early Sunday morning, Harrison had a fantastic day. He was happy, hyper and had next to no coughing. I was concerned about the evening because Croop gets worse as the night goes on. The ER doc told me to be cautious about the following night. I opened his window and put my humidifier in his room. The cool mist combined with the cold air is good for Croop, and this seemed to keep it at bay. This morning he was happy and pleasant. He wanted to go to school so I sent him.

I only worked a couple hours this morning and came home to rest since I was up all night with McCartney this time. She was coughing up a storm. Not really croop, but pretty wicked coughing. Robert's phone rang about 12:30 and I answered it. It was Harrison's school. She told me not to panic but asked if Harrison's asthma was flaring up. I told her about the Croop incident and she said he was struggling to get a good breath and asked if I could come right away. His pulse rate was also quite elevated.

I hopped in the care and headed over to school. We live about 20 minutes from the school. I was hurrying, but not panicked. It was the actual school nurse so I felt confident she would make a good decision. I knew she was concerned, but he seemed okay from what she told me. I turn the corner toward the school and I see flashing lights. There was a fire truck and an ambulance at the school. I was on the phone with my mom and I freaked out. My poor mother is stuck in Florida and freaking out about her boy!

I ran into the school and they told me they called 911 because not only was his pulse rate high, his breathing was getting worse and he had spiked a high temp. I was actually relieved when I saw him because he looked great compared to the last incident. The nurse erred on the side of caution and I was grateful. The EMTs said they were confident that I could transport him myself and we headed off back to the hospital.

It is a beautiful spring day and I was driving with the windows down. The cool fresh air helped to quiet his breathing and he calmed down. I decided to head right over to the pediatician since I didn't feel he was critical enough for the ER. The doc was concerned. He was really lethargic and had a horrible headache. He gave us more steroids for the Croop and some antibiotics because he felt it may head toward pneumonia.

So, once again we are home and he is resting. My heart needs some time to recover!

Scared Momma half to death . . .

Harrison came into our bed at 4:30 with a croopy cough. He has been struggling with a cough for a couple days, but it hasn't gotten too bad. He kept coughing and struggling and wheezing. He's asthmatic, so I took him downstairs to do a breathing treatment. It was not getting better! He was hacking and gasping for air. He was getting a blue tinge to his lips. I panicked, I almost called 911. I knew the breathing treatment would help so I tried to wait it out but he was freaking out and couldn't even get enough air to talk. I began to really panic and began to throw on clothes. Finally, I swooped him up and ran to the ER at 5:00.

I don't think I have ever driven so fast in my life.

Thankfully we live very close to the hospital. I was there in less than 2 minutes. The security guy there told me to rush him in and he parked my car. By this time I was freaking out.

They put us in the level 1 trauma area. The ER doc was fabulous. He checked his lungs and told me it was not asthma related at all. His lungs were plenty clear, but his throat was closing due to the inflammation with croop. They gave him a steroid shot and a different kind of breathing treatment, with adrenaline and steroids, to target his throat not his lungs. They warned me that he wouldn't like it, that it was different than his normal nebulizer, and they were right. He hated it! His breathing settled down in about 45 minutes. He of course still has the croopy cough, but he can breathe!

They made us stay a couple hours to make sure that the would not rebound and have another "attack". Thank goodness I had to forethought to grab his Nintendo DS when I left in a hurry. I knew it would come in handy for either him or me. He played while I dosed off in the extremely uncomfortable chair with my head on his bed rail.

The ER staff loved him. They kept coming over to see the little one who sounded like a seal! His barking was quite loud! Why is it that whenever something like this happens you realize your child's nails are dirty and need clipped, and they have on their worst pair of socks and dirty undies!?

When we got there he could barely breath. By the time we left he wanted Cinnamelts from the golden arches and was grooving the air guitar to Cold Play. I am thankful for the small things.

Flooding Friday . . .

If Jo can have Mountain Monday, I can have Flooding Friday!

For those of you, out of towners, Fort Wayne is the home of three rivers. You would know that if you lived here . . . we have a the 3 River Festival, a 3 Rivers Credit Union, 3 Rivers Food Co-op, 3 Rivers Ambulance Authority, 3 Rivers . . blah blah blah.

Anyhoo, rain and 3 rivers. Not a good mix. We have some wicked floods around here. The worst in my lifetime was in 1982 when good ol' President Reagan made a visit to fill a few sandbags. We actually live right across the street from the confluence of the 3 rivers. We are not however in the flood plane. It always creeps me out a little when I look out the bathroom window upstairs and see the rising river. Today I decided to walk across and talk some pictures after work. I did decide to drive a short distance to a couple other places where the water hads stretched over it's banks.

This is right behind our house.

Part of the River Greenway behind our house. The river is about 3 times wider than usual. This is directly across from the water filtration plant.

This is the dam. It is so not holding anything back right now. You can see the left side end of the damn in the middle of the water. That is where the bank usually is, that's how much the water has risen.

This flows towards the damn.

The Coombs Street bridge the water that flows under here flows toward the dam.

On the other side of downtown in our West Central neighborhood.

Same area, pumping water back into the flow. Sandbags protecting the houses.

Swinney Park totally under water from the river yawning over it's banks. This is just slightly farther down the river from where West Central is.

So, there it is. Sheri's Flooding Friday. It is supposed to rain Sunday and Monday. I hope our Fort Wayne neighbors stay dry.

A "new" friend . . .

I have a new bloggy friend . . . La La La La La La. Peggy was one of my bestest friends way back when. I spent many hours in the car going from her little town a short ways out of Fort Wayne and then back. She was the one that took me to the bar the night I turned 21, even though she was younger than I (oops, secret told). I stood up for her at her wedding. My dad ADORED Peggy. He never gave me the third degree when I was going out with Peggy. I loved her mom. We stalked little skater boys together in her black escort. Peggy has a cool sense of quirky style. She is my idol. I love Peggy.

I just found out Peggy is blogging! Woohoo. I also found out she makes adorable little creatures with her sewing machine! Go give her some bloggy love.

Boring you . . .

Am I boring you all lately? I must be . . . I am boring myself.

I think I need a good spring day to open the windows wide, let in a good spring breeze and blow the stink off us all at Chez Rouse. I feel boring, lethargic and just plain crappy.

Let's see, what shall I bore you with today?

Robert's hip is doing really well. We go back to the doctor in 2 weeks. Hopefully surgery is not in his future.

Dustin is doing well. Other than some pretty hateful, angry spurts at home he is doing remarkably well for Dustin. He has begun to hit himself in the head, flick his mouth and smack his cheek when he is mad. Weird! I hate it, but am coping. The food issues are once again in control . . . for a while. The decrease in Lithium decreased the pee-ing issues. . . for now. We go through spurts . . . (no pun intended)

My gramps is recovering from having his lung removed. Today is his birthday!

My mom and step-dad leave for Florida tomorrow. I hate them. Sun, beach, laziness . . . suckers.

McCartney had to go into the lottery to try to get into Harrison's elementary school for next fall. She will be a kindergartner! I won't hear whether she got in for at least a month. My perfect world, with all my ducks in a row, has a real issue of not knowing . . . but what can I do? I am so excited for her to start school . .. hope they are ready! She's a peice of work!

Harrison is doing extremely well on his ADD meds. A low dosage is helping tremendously and his aversion to food seems to be fading. He is not loosing more weight and he is behaving really well in school. Take that, "unsatifactory" in citizenship! He is a bright bulb in our pack and I adore his wit and humor!

We found a really good buffet that has sushi. And it is awesome! And it is relatively inexpensive. Sushi rocks!

See . . . boring.

Memories . . .

I have been thinking about my dad alot of the last few days. When I was going through the video that my grandmother had made of those 8mm films, I found a few gems. Mostly they were of a blond headed boy in the 50's dancing and acting silly outside, and of a brother pushing his sister through the house on her tricycle she just got for her birthday. They made me smile. I had small glimpses of my grandmother and even one of myself playing in the sprinkler at my grandmother's house in the 70's.

Back in 2007 I wrote about crying my sister-in-laws living room when I saw a bottle of Corn Huskers Lotion. My dad ALWAYS had a bottle of Corn Huskers Lotion in his side of the headboard and just seeing the bottle made me cry even 11 years after his death. The other night while I was recording those old films to DVD I saw something that made me weep. It wasn't just the video of the wedding, but a movement my dad made with his fingers and thumb. This was something he always did. When he and mom are cutting the cake I saw him make that movement and it made me cry.

I often lament that my dad can't hold my babies. I will never get to see him open the door and swoop my kids up into his arms and smooch them when they come over to visit grandpa. I never got the pleasure of introducing Robert to my dad. I will miss him begging me to go get him a Peanut Buster Parfait from DQ and saying, "You fly, I'll buy!" I never will get to hug him again and have him call me "Sher". I miss all those things, but I miss the small things too. . .

. . . like the smell of Corn Huskers lotion on his rough factory hands, and the small circular movement he made with his fingers and thumb.

A wonderful surprise . . .

We have a boatload of old video tapes that were from Robert's days in a band. I decided that I was tired of storing them so I bought a VCR-DVD player this week that way I can burn them all to DVD. I was going through a couple tapes my grandmother gave me a couple years ago. They were of 8mm film that she had transferred to VHS tapes. I found a gem . . . video of my mom and dad's wedding! Robert cleaned it up the best he could . . .

The kids skating . . .

Doing really good . . .

My ol' gramps is doing very well. He was extubated after surgery and was talking as soon as we saw him. Now, of course he is in a lot of pain, and he says it feels like someon is sitting on his chest, but his breathing isn't near as labored as I expected and the surgery was only 2 hours! Praise the Lord! He keeps wanting reassurance that he is doing good. It is really too sweet.

The tumor was encapsulated in his lung, so they think they removed it all. It was close to his heart and aorta, but that went well. They only had to remove the nerve that goes to his left vocal cords so he is a little hoarse. We are very blessed. I sooooo needed a good outcome.

So, here I sit. At the hospital once again, but with a far different prognosis. . .

The waiting game . . .

Today I sit at the hospital again. I am sitting in the same waiting room where we waited for my grandmother to come out of surgery. This time, my grandfather (my mom's dad) is having a lung removed. The week my grandmother was in the hospital my grandfather was told he had cancer in his lung. It is the "good" kind of cancer so they can remove it but at the cost of loosing an entire lung.

He is of course frightened. I am having Post Traumatic Stress Disorder sitting here. But, all will be well.

Who you callin' dizzy? . . .

Holy Mercy I am dizzy today! The doc in the ER thinks I bonked my head hard enough to cause some swelling in my ears, thus my equilibrium is off. I did come to work and took my meds once I got here. The medication that is supposed to help my dizziness either is not working, or I am so dizzy that this current state is an improvement.

I feel pretty good today, all things considered. My head hurts, my elbow is bruised and quite painful and I pulled muscles in my back I didn't realize I had! But I'm good.

When is the next skating party?

Sheri goes to the ER . . .

So I started getting super dizzy and really nauseous as the night wore on. I went to lay down and I got so dizzy I nearly passed out. Robert called my mom and they agreed I needed to go to the ER. I am home. I have a concussion, but the CAT scan was clear. No skull fracture, no swelling in my brain. Good meds on board and I'm off to sleep . . .

Sheri goes boom . . .

I can't even believe I am posting this considering my extra large, extra white belly is showing after the fall, but it is too funny not to post. After all if we can't laugh at ourselves, who can we laugh at?!

Tonight I went to a Skating Party that a friend's church was having. Dustin refused to skate. I made him go around once and he did pretty good. At the end of our round, he swept my feet out from under me and I hit the ground. I knew I shouldn't catch myself with my arm or I would break it so I went with it. My head bounced off the floor so hard my glasses flew off my head. And thank goodness (insert sarcastic eyeroll) my husband was videotaping it!

It was terribly embarrasing but even more painful. After the fall, I couldn't hear out my left ear or see clearly out of my left eye for an hour or so. I have a huge lump on the back of my head and if I tilt my head at all I get loopy and dizzy and feel like I am going to pass out. I wonder if that means I could have a small concussion? Oh well, thankfully my husband has some good pain meds. . .