Crooked Pigtails

The Knee

Last Sunday, during Harper's lacrosse game, Addison took a tumble into a nearby pond and gashed her knee on some rocks.  The cut was wide, but not too deep, and, at first, we thought we could butterfly it at home, but after several attempts, it became apparent we needed to take her to the ER. 

Once there the doctor offered us either three stitches or steri-strips to close the wound, and explained the difference would be the width of the resulting scar.  I wanted to stitch it because I (am a mean, mean mommy who wanted the most painful solution possible) wanted the thinnest scar possible.  Addie wanted no part of the stitches; she was very upset and quite adament about not having stitches.  Steve sided with Addison, reminding me that it is her knee not her face, and we were talking milimeters.

We went with the steri-strips.

On the way home from the ER, she began to cry, telling me she was sad because her timing was so terrible, she had field day at school this week; an entire day of sporting activities that require bending, nonsteri-stripped knees, and her last lacrosse game this Saturday.  So, she was sad and continues to be sad, but she is a trooper. 

On the upside, her teacher is fabulous, and has set her up with a special seat in the classroom where she can put her leg up.  She has her own lamp, she gets to choose a different personal helper each day and she is allowed to use the elevator rather than the stairs, so she is feeling pretty special at school. 

The strips will take at least a couple of weeks, maybe up to three, to come off, and she is supposed to leave them to come off on their own.  We saw her pediatrician last night and the knee is healing well.  Not the best start to her summer, but she is going to be just fine.   

 

 

Colton Timothy

Born 12:04 a.m. June 8th 2013  8 pounds 10 ounces  20.5 inches long

Screw the rain

Our family is growing today; my youngest brother is at his wife's side as she labors to deliver their first child, my newest nephew, into the world, and the excitement in the family is palapable.  Text messages are flying back and forth and sideways with updates and requests for updates, and everyone is getting more and more anxious with each message.  Nothing, not even the rainy, chilly, windy, just plain nasty and unusual weather of this June day can dampen our joy because we are anticipating a brand new baby boy, and he is going to be perfect.

Lacrosse season is upon us, almost finished, actually; the girls and Steve are completely emersed in the sport, and, therefore, by some sort of osmosis I am too, so we spend more time on the lacrosse field than we do almost any other place, it seems, and I find it difficult even to put a meal, healthy or otherwise, on the table each night.  Homework happens, showers take place, they sleep, go to school and work, all of it revolving around the lacrosse schedule simutaneously counting down the days until school is out for the summer. 

 We're having our ups and downs.  Drama.  Hormones.  Growing pains.  Girl stuff.  Sister stuff.  Teen and tween angst.  The girls have a hard time getting along one minute and fiercely defend one another the next; like all sisters, they are the worst of enemies and the best of friends.  This makes me both anxious for, and anxious about, summer vacation.  I can't wait to have them home every day.  I am so looking forward to all of the things we will do this summer, but the constant bickering is another story.

You do the math

Gallon of cranberry juice + box of Monistat 3 =

Riding the wave

For me, the most difficult parenting moments require letting them go to be who they are becoming while simutaneously attempting to protect them from the hairpin curves in the path they are careening down.

This week was filled with the (almost) teen angst of trying out for a middle school sports team.  The eighth grade soccer team.  The first possibility of being cut from a team. 

It was a three day process in a four day school week.  The first day was a team meeting, the following two days were the actual tryouts.  The entire week was an anxiety driven shit storm of emotion.

Harper came home from the first day meeting feeling encouraged.  She liked the coach and she felt of the girls trying out she had a pretty good shot at making the team. 

The second day she burst into tears the moment she got into the house, convinced she'd screwed up every drill, certain she'd looked like she had never played the sport a day in her life.  There was no consoling her.  She was certain not only that she couldn't possibly make the team, but also that we, her parents, had no idea how important making the team was to her, that we don't care about what is important to her, and we have probably never loved her anyway. 

The third day she made the team.  The sun began to shine, unicorns sang, and everything was sparkly once again.

Because Harper loves soccer.  She has played since she was six and she is a decent player, but she, by no means, stands out.  She understands the game and anticipates where she needs to be as well as what she needs to do next, but sometimes it appears that her head and her feet are not attached to the same body, sometimes she is a split second behind herself.  And, she is simply not as aggressive as is often necessary in order to truly excel in the sport of soccer.  More than one of her coaches over the years have told me how coachable Harper is, how much they enjoy having her on their teams, but that you just can't teach aggressive.  Aggressive is the one "natural" ability so crucial to soccer that Harper lacks.  With 23 girls trying out, there was no guarentee she would get a spot on the team.

So, I hadn't slept more an hour that second night, and my stomach was knotted the entire three days because I wasn't sure if she would make the team and I was frightened for her.  As much as I was cheering her on, I was caught in that parenting limbo of wanting something so badly for my child and being terrified she wouldn't get it, while having absolutely zero control over the situation.  Watching her, supporting her as much as she would allow, secretly more than she would allow, while realizing that if the crash came I was tragically illequipt to help her heal.

And, we are only two weeks into this school year.  I fear this is going to be a bumpy ride.

The reason I have swept our bathroom floor eight times today

What I said: "Honey, do you need any help?"

What I meant:  "Wow!  You are doing a fabulous job and I am so lucky to be married to someone as talented in home improvement as you are all by yourself."

What he heard: "Honey, do you need any help?"

Happenings

Last night I was gently roused startled out of a sound sleep by Addison announcing she was going to throw up with plenty of time to make it to the bathroom at the exact moment she was throwing up.  I love when that happens. 

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After several weeks of researching and contacting no kill shelters (all full because it just happens to be kitten season) and rescue groups (in CT, MA and RI), followed by more weeks of back and forth with a rescue group willing to help us, we have finally re-homed Ricky.  He is now living with a couple and their ten year old daughter as the only pet in the household.  It sounds like the perfect placement for him and we are told he is doing great. 

It was sad for us; difficult to admit we were unable to provide him with the home he needed in order to be happy.  We are also equally relieved and hopeful that our household will settle down, and that Ricky will live out his life happy and healthy in his new forever home.

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Steve is having knee surgery in the morning.  He is under the impression that it will be "no big deal" with very little recovery time.  I am preparing myself to wait on him for the remainder of the summer.

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It's finally iced coffee season.  Can I get an Amen?  Today is predicted to be a thousand degrees.  If I were to meet the person who invented air conditioning I would kiss him/her square on the lips.  Then offer an iced coffee.  Maybe introduce him/her to the creator of iced coffee.  They would fall instantly in love and make beautiful babies who would grow up to rule the world.  Life would be idyllic.  Until one of them has an affair with the creator of sun screen.  But, why go there?  We have iced coffee, air conditioning, and, yes, sun screen.  Life is good.

 

 

 

Summer plans

I can hardly believe today is the last day of school.  Another year behind us.

Harper plans to enjoy every waking moment of this summer spending time with friends, talking to friends on the phone or texting them whenever they are not together, and pretending she doesn't have parents unless she needs a ride, some money, or permission for a sleepover. 

Addison plans to be at the beach.  Preferably with friends.  She wants to ride her bike, draw on the driveway with chalk, sell lemonade, jump through the sprinkler, catch fireflies and crabs, roast marshmallows, and have nightly sleepovers.

I plan on all of the above with the addition of spending time at my parent's lake house (the whole family wants to do that) and visiting with family from North Carolina and California.

Stay tuned to see how we do.

Three things

It is pouring rain and my neighbor just started mowing his lawn.  The mower keeps stalling, probably because the grass is wet and clumping, but this doesn't deter him.  His wife is doing the trim. 

I never learned how to properly milk a cow.  I have milked cows, but not well, not properly.

I have a cramp in my toe and I'm craving Hawaiian pizza.