Jack's Surgery

I may as well state the obvious. I've been away from the blogosphere for a long time. What happened, you ask? Well, Facebook for one. I got sucked in and it's easy, immediate and permits you to post not much more than quick sound bites. Perfect, in other words, for a working mom with two busy boys. Which brings me to the second thing that happened. T-ball! I'll post about that another day (go ahead and snicker, it's Ok!), but Michael and I had the pleasure of being a T-ball coach and T-ball Team Mom respectively for Jack's team this past Spring. And man oh man...were we BUSY! It was a lot of fun and a lot of work. But as I said, more on that later.

As many of you know, our little Bubbers got quite sick this past month and had his first (and pray to God last!) surgery. He got sick at Papa Floyd's and Grandma Diane's during a Friday night sleep over, but not sick enough to want to come home (after all, he was at Papa and Grandma's!). By the next morning, Grandma thought he had a fever and he was still throwing up, so we drove to Auburn to pick him up. We all thought he had a nasty little flu bug that was hitting some of his cousins. He threw up for a solid day and had a low-grade fever. By Sunday, he had stopped throwing up but he said his tummy hurt. You can see in the picture that our little guy just didn't feel very good.


So, we took him to the doctor first thing Monday morning, and Dr. Dresser thought the virus might have settled in his intestines and caused an infection, but didn't think it was appendicitis because Jack didn't have the "standard" symptoms (which, as an aside, I no longer believe exist). So, we took him home with orders to watch for a high fever and the vomiting to resume, which never happened. The doctor also said we should see his appetite improve and his activity level start to get better, which did happen...but mostly, I think in hindsight, because of Jack's sheer determination.

By the following Thursday, Jack was walking like an old man and said his back hurt, so Friday morning we were back in Dr. Dresser's office. He barely palpated Jack's tummy and Jack started to cry and scream. So we were ordered to the emergency room post haste. We went to Mercy Hospital in Folsom, where they took his blood and did an ultrasound within two hours. The ultrasound showed that his appendix had perforated (a fancy way of saying burst) and formed an abscess, but interestingly he had no fever and his white blood cell count was completely normal. They called the surgeon in and it took a couple of hours for him to arrive, but when he got there he got Jack into surgery within an hour.


Jack did great during surgery. It turns out, the lining in his abdominal cavity had created a protective little pocket around the appendix and contained the infection. It was pretty bad, but clearly God was taking good care of our baby.


Friday night and Saturday were kind of rough. By Sunday, Jack was starting to play a little with his Star Wars characters.




By Monday, he was walking around....




And chatting with his big brother...



And asking for a hamburger and french fries...(which he only ate a bite or two of, but hey! That was huge!)



And ready to go home!

We were so happy to bring Jack home. My birthday was two days later and having him home and on his way to recovery was the best birthday present *ever!*

He's still healing, but thanks to God's love and care, he's doing a lot better. We'll keep you all posted!

Keeping the memories, not the clutter...

I have a hard time letting things go. Things are memories, after all. How fun is it to go through an old box stuffed in the corner of the garage (attic or cellar) and rediscover people and places from times gone by? Pretty fun, at least to me.

Ironically, as much as I love things and the sweet memories they bring, I cannot stand clutter. I don't have a lot of knick knacks in my house. I get antsy and irritable when piles of things spring up here, there and everywhere. I'm not the most "organized" of lasses, mind you. I don't have a quaint little spot for every little thing, but I must keep the clutter at bay or my mind gets hazy and I begin to short-circuit.

Add my love of things and my intolerance of clutter together with a small house and you can see that I have a bit of a conundrum on my hands. So, I have learned how to purge, as painful as it may be. The hardest things to part with are the toys, clothes and other things that remind me of when my boys were little and the milestones they enjoyed. And then...it dawned on me. Why not just snap a picture and save the memory electronically instead of stuffed away in my garage!

Which brings me to the pictures below. Both Jack and Wyatt enjoyed romping around in their black cowboy boots. These were Jack's. He spent many hours pretending to be Captain Ahab, Jack Sparrow and assorted other heros in these boots. So darn cute. And Wyatt just loved his Converse sneakers. He felt (and looked) so cool riding his bike, playing football, and riding his scooter up and down in these big boy shoes. Two pairs of shoes, alot of memories, and feet that got too big. What to do? I wanted to stuff them in a box so I'd never forget. Instead, I took a picture and passed them along.

Digital memories; almost as good as the dusty box in the corner. Almost.

Wyatt's Buds...

Wyatt, Maka, Nick, Levi and Ethan

Boys. I'm surrounded by them and I wouldn't have it any other way.  Wyatt turned 9 in October and this is what he wanted: his best buds over for a game of football, a big pile of beef ribs for dinner, and a sleep-over, complete with sleeping bags and the movie Jaws.  Yup, Jaws.  That gave me pause (hehehe, rhyme intended), but all the moms gave the movie the thumbs up so Wyatt was set.

The boys lined up in their jerseys (not wanting to be the odd men out, Nick eventually gave up his Giants jersey for a Cowboys one and Levi was willing to risk his Redskins loving Dad seeing him sporting one, too) and then played a rousing game of football.  Two hours later they polished off a huge plate of ribs.

 

Good food, good friends, fun times. What more could a nine-year-old boy need?

The Evolution of Santa

Jack is ever in pursuit of a new character to play, and of course, to play a character properly he must look the part. Fortunately for us, this doesn't cost us anything. Jack seems to have been born to repurpose. He loves nothing more than scouring the house for bits and pieces of this-n-that to bring the visions in his mind to life. His costumes are his own concoctions and we're constantly surprised by his creations.

Tis the season to play Santa and Jack has taken to the part with unbridled enthusiasm. He worked on his costume over several days, picking and choosing new ways to present St. Nick in all his Christmas glory until the look was just right.

Santa Take One. His first attempt included a red motocross shirt Auntie Cindi bought him, along with a pair pants from an Anakin Skywalker costume. The suspenders were fashioned from the belt from the aforementioned Skywalker outfit. The hat is an old Dallas Cowboys beanie (positioned "just so") and the beard is a book cover from his brother's third grade text book. Not bad...not bad at all.

Santa Take Two. Jack decided his first beard lacked authenticity, but there was no need to trek to the store for something to do the job. He and I sat down one night and made a white beard from my make-up remover pads (little squares of cotton), rubber bands, and three sheets of white paper glued together for stability. To this, he added his green robe, a brown belt, and a Santa hat from the Christmas decoration box we had stored in the garage.

Santa Take Three. I came home from work to find Jack decked out in his final ensemble. To the brown belt and Santa hat, he added his red, sheep-lined sweat jacket, black cowboy boots and red pants. But wait, Jack doesn't have red pants! Ohhh, I see. He cleverly took the red motocross shirt from his first attempt and turned them into pants. Silly rabbit, who says sleeves only go on arms? Finally, a Santa costume that did Jack proud. Mom, too.

Christmas is...

Peanut Butter Fudge, Cookies, Sharing...

There are cookies and candies that I make every year. I found the best peanut better fudge recipe ever a few years ago...it reminds me of the fudge my Aunt Audrey used to make. It's so simple.

4 cups of white sugar
1 cup of packed brown sugar
1 stick of butter (the real stuff! I used salted)
1 can evaporated milk
















(no, these aren't all the ingrediants for my fudge, just a hodge podge of ones I used every Christmas)



















Put the sugars, butter, and milk in a heavy pot...stir constantly til it boils


















When it comes to a good rolling boil, boil for 7 minutes.

After 7 minutes, remove from heat and add:
One 7 ounce jar marshmallow cream
Stir until the marshmallow is well incorporated
Add 1 teaspoon real vanilla
Add 2 cups creamy (or crunchy!) peanut butter
Stir until the peanut butter is completely incoporated
Pour into a 13X9 pan (buttered) and let set up.






Enjoy!!!

First Tooth!

Jack lost his first tooth! He's so excited! Mom and Dad are happy and sad at the same time. There's no denying our little boy is becoming a big boy! He's had two teeth growing in behind the others for a few weeks now, so there's no "space" really, just a new tooth saying "Hello!"

Making Meatballs with Dad

I've said before that I'm a lucky girl. Haven't I? Well if not, please let me correct that here and now. I am. My husband is not your typical guy. He cleans, he does laundry, he cooks. Things have changed quite a bit during our almost thirteen years together. Not the cleaning part; he's always done that. Not the laundry part; he's always done that, too.

It's the cooking part that's blossomed.

He is a midwestern boy at heart. When we met, he liked his food in pretty discrete categories and ordered pizza more than he cooked. But, I knew this cute boy had some potential the first time he made me dinner. Spaghetti. I was late (Friday night commute traffic is baaaad) and so the pasta went well beyond al dente into mushy and ruined. Did he serve it up anyway? Nope. He made more! He didn't like wine but had a nice bottle of red waiting for me. It was pretty good stuff.

Since then, Michael has taught himself to make all sorts of delicious things. He experiments all the time. He makes a killer chili (several variations, actually), great bbq chicken, ribs, several different pasta dishes, slow simmered tacos, guacamole. He can whip a mean meatball, too. Recently, he ponied the boys up to the counter and showed 'em how it's done. Right down to the cast iron skillet for proper browning.

I'm proud that he's preparing Wyatt and Jack to make spaghetti for their future wives; hopefully those girls, whoever they may be, won't be late.

Thanksgiving

I love Thanksgiving. It's my favorite holiday. Yes, I love it more than Christmas. I love the reason for Christmas more than the reason for Thanksgiving (although it's a close second), but there's something about the newness of the crisp, frosty air, the beauty of falling leaves, the wonderful smells of sage, thyme, nutmeg, and ginger, and the feeling of peace and contentment that comes from spending time with the people you love best, giving thanks and raising a toast to the season.

We had a special holiday this year. My friend, Sheila, and her two children, Amanda and Josh, came to visit. They joined us for the dinner Michael and I made for the Eby side of the family, and I roasted my biggest bird yet! A 25 pound gobbler. I didn't dry it out and it came out golden brown and yummy. And no, I didn't take a picture. Darn. But I have witnesses! Sheila has pictures on her camera of our feast...sadly I was too busy cookin'!

Then, they joined us for the Dolley celebration. My folks went through some impressive contortions in their dining/living room to get so many of us around the table. We ate, drank, and were definitely merry. We strolled down the hill to art studio of our local glass artisans and bought beautiful hand-blown ornaments for all the kids.

Good times.

Finck, Dolley, Thomas and Eby Cousins

I take zero credit for this pix. My cousin, Nicole snapped this cute shot. Thanks Nicole!

Back: Evan, Colin, Cole, Luke

Front: Wyatt, Grace, Jack, Amanda

Stage Left (Off-camera): Liam

The Augustine' Family

Sheila n' Me

Wyatt, Amanda, Jack and Josh

Faces of Wyatt

This is Wyatt Morgan.  His brother calls him "T" and I call him "Goose." I've been known to call him T-Bone on occasion, much to his dismay. His dad can call him anything he wants without argument--go figure! He's our athlete, the kid who loves to throw a football for hours on end. Or play kickball and basketball with his friends. He's also the kid with just about the biggest heart any boy has ever been given. He loves to make people laugh--to be silly and goofy and make you feel so warm and happy inside that your heart could just burst. He has a crazy sense of humor. If you're having a bad moment or a bad day or wondering if there are any generous good-hearted people in this world, Wyatt's the one you want beside you. He reminds you that life is darn good. Full of fun, smiles and laughter.

 

Yo, These Are My Peeps

Aren't boys just great? The adventures are non-stop. They pose, they strut, they get messy...they embrace every day with huge, courageous hearts. I just love 'em.

Slater B is my nephew, not by "blood", but his Mom & Dad, Brad and Cindi, have been my "friends who are family" for almost 20 years. Isn't he cute?


Slater, Wyatt & Jack



Slater B.

Faces of Jack

His name is Jack Michael, but we call him Bubbers. Or Rooney. Or Bubber-Roo. There's no method to the naming madness; these are just the names that have evolved for him over his five years. He's got quite a personality, after all. He's our little bundle of creative energy.

Among many other things, Jack is:

...the boy who took an old Playtex baby bottle (the kind with openings on both end) and the boot from a Luke Skywalker doll to fashion himself a hook to hide his little hand so he could play the evil Captain Hook from Peter Pan.

...the boy who put a black cowboy boot on one leg and rolled up the pant leg on the other to expose one bare leg. The bare leg became his "peg leg" as he stomped around shouting orders as the mean Captain Ahab from Moby dick.

...the boy who took his brother's stretchy cloth book cover and draped it across half his face, transforming himself into the villainous "Two Face" from Batman.

I don't know where he comes up with this stuff. I just know that when your child is a ham, it's darn tough to get a sweet, smiling portrait. You get what you get when you click the shutter.

The Many Faces of Jack

Getting all Fancy on Ya...

Just quick shout out to my sister bloggers, Marjorie and Patty. I had some questions about how to pretty up my blog and got some tips from both. Marjorie introduced me to Picasa and Flickr...so over the next few days (or weeks, ahem!) you'll get to see the some of my novice stabs at using some of the features. Click their names to check out their blogs...you'll see some cool stuff. Great pictures, yummy recipes, interesting thoughts for the day. (hey, I learned to hyperlink! How proud am I!)

I learn best by seeing how others do things, so we're going to try and set a "blog tutorial date" at Starbucks one of these days--soon, I hope. In the meantime, I'm striking out on my own. Maybe I'll learn a thing or two to share with them (hmmm...?).

I love looking at other people's blogs. Blogging Molly has come cool stuff on her site. I love the daily thumbnails she does for each month on the side of her blog. She has some "green tips" and yummy recipes of her own, too.

It's going to be fun experimenting! If you're a seasoned blogger and have some ideas, please feel free to share them!

Mohawk *without* an Attitude

There comes a time in every Mom's life when her sweet child gets a fashion sense of his (or her) own. With each passing year, I knew my days of picking adorable outfits and cute hair styles were numbered, but I have to confess I didn't expect them to end quite so soon. Certainly not by the tender age of 8.

How naive of me.

It began with the clothes. Over the last year, Wyatt has developed very specific taste in what he wears. He'll make small concessions to keep his dad and me happy and to ensure the ongoing privilege of picking what he likes without getting our blessing every time. Asserting control over his hair, it turns out, wasn't far behind. Wyatt has been asking for a Mohawk ever since he played soccer with Cooper. Cooper was the Coach's son and Cooper had a Mohawk. Wyatt's never whined for one or made a fuss about it; he's just mentioned it in passing from time to time. Somehow we, his slightly nervous parents, managed to dodge the issue for almost six months.

Since Wyatt was a little tyke, we've kept his hair "buzzed." Short, maybe a little spiky, but always tidy and well trimmed. Early this spring, though, he expressed his desire to let it grow. He has great hair...thick and wavy, would probably be curly if it got long enough. We gave him the thumbs up and let Mother Nature do her thing. His hair grew fast. He looked good with it longer--like a stylish and contemporary 8 year-old. Alas, thick wavy hair becomes like a winter hat you can't take off when the weather turns warm. It gets sweaty and sticky under bike helmets and causes much gnashing of teeth when trying to coax swimming goggles into place. So it wasn't long before he asked me to buzz it again. I revved up the clippers and made a first pass around his head when I heard him murmur the fateful question, "Mom, can I have a Mohawk?"

I paused.

Hmmm. Well, why not?

It's not a full 'hawk...more like a half 'hawk because I'd already buzzed the back. But he likes it. It's fun for him. And fun for me to see him enjoy it so much. I'm getting a glimpse of what life will be like when adolescence hits as he spends countless minutes grooming his 'hawk into place every day.

We really need that extra bathroom.

A sweet kid with a great 'tude and cool cut

Friends...

As I mentioned in my first post, I am blessed to have friends that I have made in various seasons of my life scattered throughout this beautiful country. Sadly, though, that means that I don't get to see most of them as often as I would like and, in too many cases, our connection consists of an occasional email or Christmas card. Still, I'm glad the connection is there. Now that Wyatt and Jack are elementary school age, they are beginning to form what may become lifelong friendships. It's very cool to see these fledgling relationships develop. I was fortunate to grow up with the same group of friends from elementary school through high school. That continuity was incredibly important for me. Those relationships helped form who I am and gave me an identity that endures to this day; they ground me in time and place and still provide a meaningful touchstone.

I don't know if the friendship experience is the same or different for boys. Regardless, I firmly believe that friendships are incredibly important relationships to foster and maintain. Valuing friendship doesn't devalue the role of family nor does it ignore how often family members are also friends. While bonds of family are intricate, invaluable and often indescribable (though poets, philosophers, psychiatrists have tried), friendships are unique in that people who were once strangers choose to love each other simply because they share something together that defies obligation. It's as simple as this: friends just want to be with each other. For many folks, myself included, some friendships are so nurturing and sustaining that those individuals actually become family, though no genelogy will ever memorialize their existance. These special friends add value to our lives in powerful ways; and that's a beautiful gift I want my boys to have.

With that lofy ideal in mind, I try very hard to give Wyatt and Jack time with friends. Because they are on an intradistrict transfer, they don't go to school with the kids in the neighborhood. So we do our best to create play dates and other experiences for them to enjoy with the friends they have made. They have good friends...friends that one day may be just like family. At least, that's my hope.


Wyatt and Levi: These handsome boys became buddies in Ms. Megan's class at preschool in 2003. They've been on soccer teams together for the last two years, the Pumas and the Leopards.



Jack and Ian: How great is it when your children are friends with other siblings who are about the same age? Pretty great! Ian is Levi's little brother. We like doing "dual play dates" with all four boys. Our thought is that if the little brothers are occupied with a friend and they won't bug the big brothers...as much.



Third Grade Buddies:
This is a quite a crew. These are Wyatt's kickball mates at school. Maka (far right) and Wyatt have been friends since birth. We lived in a duplex beside his family when they were born. What a great group of young men!




Jack and Jake: Jake is Jack's friend from preschool. Time will tell if they'll still be finding fun together down the road. Someone asked if they were twins...made me smile!

That Maine Girl's Been Away...

Have you ever spent 45 minutes creating a post only to delete the whole dang thing with one incredibly stupid keystroke? Have you ever naively thought you could retrive it, since Blogger kindly saves your drafts every few minutes, only to discover that the last save saved your blunder?

Good grief.

It's probably for the best. I waxed on for several paragraphs about why I've been away from my blog (which I warned you may happen ). Rather dreary and mundane stuff actually. I think my unfortnate delete may have been a little message from God to "lighten up." It's probably enough to say that the last couple of months were a little difficult and I spent a lot of time focusing my time and energy on my boys and attending to various health concerns--mine, my husband's, and loved ones' near and far. Too many doctor appointments and hospital visits. Creative pursuits fell to the bottom of the heap.

The good news is that I recently got a clean bill of health. The not-so-good news is that others I love are still waiting for theirs. But, hopefully this will soon be behind us. For now, I have a little time to return to the Blogosphere.

A mother's pride fills her heart...and empties her wallet

There are a few things that make me feel proud of myself that I can brag about without sounding like a big horse's patoot. For example, I take a measure of pride in the fact that I was raised to be the kind of girl that can comfortably go to other people's homes and eat whatever food they are kind enough to share. I don't get squiggly about food in combinations I've never seen before or whose colors and aromas are foreign and confusing to my senses. Generally, I see new a new food and think, "Cool, I'll try that." Of course, once in awhile I do find myself seated before a dubious offering. At those times, my worst inclination is to think, "Well, how bad can one bite be?" My mom, you see, always told me that I had to try at least "one bite."

My waistline tells the tale: I like most everything. More importantly, I want my kids to like most everything, too (while maintaining a healthy waistline, of course!). I want them to be the kind of kids who can enjoy dinner at a friend's house and not freak out because the food is touching, mixed together, or (gulp!) completely unrecognizable as food. It will happen...some day...and it will be the worst possible occasion, like the first dinner with a special girl's family. With this in mind, since Wyatt and Jack started eating solid foods, I've tried to expose them to as many different textures, flavors, and combinations as possible. For the most part, I've been successful and Michael is very supportive of my efforts, going so far as to choke down foods he would never consider, all for the sake of humoring my need to expand the boys' palates. Naturally, both boys get on jags and swear they "don't like x" or "will never try y." I don't take these small protests seriously. I just gently remind them that "yes you do like x, you ate it before and you'll eat it next time" or reassure them that "you don't have to try it today, but you do have to keep it on your plate." Then I make it a point to serve the questionable food often and put it on everyone's plate for consideration. Eventually, what was once offensive becomes familiar and I'm rewarded with the sight of a sweet little boy polishing off his x or y with gusto.

By staying positive and not giving up when confronted by wrinkled noses, Michael and I have managed to help Wyatt and Jack like many different foods and not become too boggled by new things. While I'm thrilled that they'll eat broccoli, cous cous, pecorino romano cheese (in chunks...by itself!), and hummus, above all else, my greatest desire was to help them learn about and enjoy seafood. Fish, shrimp, scallops, clams, and of course, lobster. What kind of Maine Girl would I be if I didn't love lobster? What kind of Maine Mom would I be if my boys didn't grow up to love lobster, even if we do live 3,000 miles from the chilly Atlantic???

Which brings me to the aforementioned empty wallet...both of my boys LOVE lobster. Michael treats me to lobster for my birthday or Mother's Day each year. One lobster once or twice a year isn't that extravagant. But now...it's three lobsters (sadly--or luckily--Michael does not love this sweet delicacy!). Jack enjoyed his first lobster, on his own plate, last Mother's Day. Wyatt has been a pro at eating lobster for several years and was thrilled to help show his little brother the ropes. Take a look...

Jack admiring his first lobster...

on his own plate

with his own drawn butter

and his very own shell cracker

Wyatt scored a HUGE claw!

Jack, Mommy, and Wyatt...loving lobster, loving life!

Happy Boys...with Expensive Taste...and a very Proud Mom!