Bullfrog happenings

Evan found a bullfrog at work and brought it home to show the kiddos. It was so funny, I still laugh when I look at the pictures, especially the one of Taneal and the lack of one of Camie. The kids were so funny.

We had just finished 3 hours of swim practice and it was late, the kids needed to get into bed for school the next morning. We pulled up and Evan told me he wanted to show the kids something. Had a big Rubbermaid container with a lid on it. He asked them to all gather round to see what was in the box. Right as he lifted the lid, the bullfrog shot out of the container hitting Camie across the face, smack dab into the side of the car, and then flopped under the car. The kids had no idea what just shot out of the box. They all started screaming, especially Camie. Camie, Taneal, and Spencer all b-lined it into the house, leaving the garage door to the house open. Well, the car was parked in the garage that the bull frog was hiding under. As soon as it saw a clear exit, it hopped right inside the door and into the laundry room causing more shrill screams from the 3 kids inside. Evan was laughing so hard he couldn't really deal with the chaos. As soon as he realized it was going to possibly go behind the washer, Evan hurried and grabbed the huge frog and went outside. Nathan didn't know how to react. He really wanted to see the frog. It really was a cool frog, but the reactions of his siblings was confusing him. Evan held the frog and let each of the kids come touch it. Camie never would come out of the house. I think being smacked across the cheek by a jumping bullfrog would unnerve me, too. So that is why there is no picture of Camie with the bullfrog. After a few minutes of playing with the frog and watching just how far it would jump, they put it in the wagon, closed the lid, and took it down the end of the street and let it go in the retention pond.

Fun times.

The perfect picture

The title is a lot misleading. We were at a temple for my brother's wedding, a temple we had not visited before. I wanted to get a picture of my children in front of this temple to put into their temple scrapbook (the scrapbook I have intentions of creating). And so I lined them up, took photo after excruciating photo, and this is what I got. I finally got one with Nathan not trying to squirm out of the photo, only to look at it later and realize his finger was up his nose. I tried, right? I get credit for that. And when I do finally get around to creating that temple scrapbook, Nathan is just going to have to suffer the consequences of picking his nose. I have resigned to the fact that there is no such thing as a perfect photo when children are involved.

Happy 4th

I love holidays. Independence Day is no exception. I think what makes or breaks a holiday is the traditions established for that day. I remember hearing a conference talk years ago that really touched me, I can't remember who gave it, but it sticks out in my mind more then almost any other talk. The message I got was to establish traditions. Traditions are what children remember when they are old. They don't really remember all the day in and day out activities. When a child leaves home and holidays come around, they will be able to have either neutral, positive, or negative feelings about that day. It isn't about the money spent, they number of fire works bought, or birthday presents received. And so as I have become a mother, I have tried to follow the council from this conference talk and establish traditions in my family. On the 4th, I created little traditions such as painting flags on the girls' nails (sorry boys, when I established this tradition I didn't have boys). We also use construction paper and make flags and talk about the meaning of the flag. We always have some sort of dessert that we decorate to look like a flag. And the evening is spent with a few fireworks. Nothing grand, nothing expensive (we don't go all out on fireworks), but a few positive traditions that I hope my children always remember. When they leave home (I don't even want to imagine that) and the 4th comes around, they will have something to reminisce about, maybe even paint their own nails and decorate a fun treat like a flag. And maybe not, but at least we had a good time. I want to make the 4th of July special. I want my children to know that our Independence and freedom is a big deal. It is the birth date of our country and I am so grateful for the men who gave their lives for my freedom. Because if those men, I can worship how I choose, I can have as many children as my body and mind will allow, and I can go where I want whenever I want. I am proud to be an American and be free. God Bless America!

Charles and Amber

My littlest brother, Charles, was married on Friday to a wonderful girl, Amber. We were able to go to their wedding and spend a few days before with them. I love watching Charles and Amber together. They fit so well. Charles likes to joke and Amber pushes right back. They are so happy together. I am excited to watch them share their lives together. Congratulations Charles and Amber!

The day was preceeded by rain and flash floods. It rained the entire wedding day except for a few dry spells after the temple. I took a photo of the view from the temple looking at the grey skys. The pictures all turned out beautiful, you can hardly tell it was overcast.

Spencer turns 4

My biggest little boy turned 4! It was just 4 years ago that we moved to this great state, it was only 4 years ago that I thought I would only have a family of all girls (I didn't believe the ultrasound until I actually saw Spencer), and it was only 4 years ago that I held this newborn in my arms, now a mother of 4, and counted myself as the most blessed woman alive.

After having 3 girls, I got all kinds of comments from people about if we were going to try for a boy, etc. But the one comment that really sticks out is the one that said they wished a boy on me. They wanted me to have a boy so I would know what a real boy was like, how energetic, crazy, and scary boys could be along with all the burping and gross stuff that goes with them. And then came Spencer. Spencer is probably the best kind of boy I could possible ask for. Evan of course calls him a "putz", but I call him wonderful. He is every woman's dream. He is kind, careful, thoughtful, emotional, smart, logical, sweet, cuddly, and likes to pick out his clothes. The thing I love about Spencer the most is how sweet he is. He thinks about others. He is so considerate of others. He does get mad sometimes and hits his little brother, but Nathan well deserves it even though Spencer still gets into trouble. Spencer has fear. He won't do dangerous things because he knows he will get hurt. The thing I feared the most about boys was how dangerous they can be. I have 5 brothers, I know. But Spencer came to me just about as perfect as can be and can sure melt my heart. He is still boy through and through, but the sweet kind that whoever he marries will be the luckiest girls alive.

Spencer like to pick out his clothes. I think it is so funny because boys aren't supposed to do things like that, right? His favorite shirts are the ones with the mean dinosaurs or animals on them. Following after 3 girls, Spencer has had to adapt a lot of our toys. He zooms the barbie cars around, likes the Barbie movies that have animals in them, and has taught his sisters how to wrestle and climb. He has more questions then any child I have ever met. He was on a coyote kick for about 6 months and occasionally still asks about them. He asks all about bugs and spiders and raccoons and other nocturnal animals. He thinks it is so cool that his name starts with an "s" because it looks like a snake. He has asked 100's of questions about the Holy Ghost, His purpose, role, and influence. He continually asks about following the prophet and going astray (he says is straight) stimulated by a song he learned in Primary. My favorite question was the one about how that baby is going to get out of my belly. Of course being 3 I didn't want to tell him how it came out, so I tried to get out of answering the question but Spencer would have nothing to do with that. I finally told him to wake Dad up (who was sitting on the other couch) and ask him. And Evan point blank told him. Spencer's jaw dropped open and then he crinkled his nose and looked right at me and said, "that is disgusting!" And the subject was over. He hasn't brought it up again. He is still fascinated with . . . how do you say it? My bosom. He hasn't forgotten how Nathan got his milk when he was a baby and he likes to point out that that it is the same way he got his milk. He seems quite proud of it. And in years from now he will probably die that I am even sharing this. But it is a frequent topic and he points out a lot that the new baby will get it's milk that way too. Occasionally he will pat them and tell me how cool they are. I try to be mater-of-fact with him and think the scientific way that he is I'm sure thinking. It still just cracks me up.

My little boy isn't so little any more. For his birthday he got a bog boy bed and moved out of his toddler bed. Spencer tried not to smile but was very excited. We had a swim meet the afternoon/evening of his birthday, so I quickly made him a cake and we took it to the meet with us and sang Happy Birthday to him there. He wanted donuts for breakfast. We had his favorite supper on Sunday with Troy and Becky which consisted of baked chicken strips, mashed potatoes, biscuits, and cooked carrots. On his actual birthday we let him pick out a dozen balloons, he wanted only green and blue. We sang happy birthday to him so many times throughout the day that Nathan can now sing it. I think Spencer felt special and really enjoyed his day.

Lazy Momma

I really shouldn't call this post lazy momma because I haven't been lazy at all. At least in some areas. My kids got the better of the OCD problem that I sometimes have after I had baby #4. I have given up on so many things and let go on so many more things. This morning is a good example of of just what I am talking about.

Evan left with Taneal and Camie at 6am this morning for a swim meet. Danielle had throwing up and fever yesterday, so she was not able to go. I couldn't sleep last night, but not from lack of trying. I laid there trying to convince my body to sleep and my mind to stop, but I just wouldn't obey. This morning I couldn't get out of bed. I finally did at 7am because Nathan wouldn't quit coming in and telling me he was poopy. I was hoping the dirty diaper would just go away, but it wouldn't until I finally changed him. Then I was up. My little 3 do not eat cereal. I have to cook for them each morning if I don't want to feed them an hour later. With Taneal and Camie gone, I didn't need to cook much, so I opted for the toaster and pop tarts. I NEVER give my kids pop tarts for breakfast. It isn't the sugar, I don't mind that. It is the mess that comes with it. Any time we have pop tarts, somehow that jelly ends up on my floor and smashed and spread into a sticky mess. We have an eating-only-at-the-table rule, but somehow pop tarts just plain make a mess. And then came my bright idea. Eat the pop tarts outside. Nathan was all for it. Danielle and Spencer looked at me funny and then asked if I was serious about them going in the backyard in their pajamas. I figured what the heck, get out there and leave your mess to the fire ants. Plus, Spencer drank too much last night and desperately needs a bath and I don't want to give it to him just yet. That was at about 7:30 this morning. I threw some juice boxes and water bottles outside along with some fruit. The house was so quiet! And of course I couldn't start any fun projects because as soon as I did they would be done playing outside and then I would be frustrated that I had to put my project away. So, I decided to tackle the mountains of laundry. Around 10 they decided they were done, so I suggested turning on the hose. It is now 11:53 and they are still outside playing in their pajamas (I did have to remove the over saturated diaper off Nathan and replace it with Spencer's underware from the laundry). I need to fix them lunch, hopefully they will stay outside and eat that too. And, I have the last load of laundry in the dryer, all the other clothes on hangers and folded, most of it put away. My floors are picked up and there has been quiet in my house all morning. Oh, what a beautiful day. It is noon and I am not even close to feeling frazzled.

As I was looking outside, it cracked me up that they were still in their pajamas. Lazy mom in that I didn't get them dressed to go outside. But, it is in the back yard, I won't have as much laundry to do because they didn't get a set of clothes wet plus their pajamas. And I really haven't been lazy at all. I thought about reading a book in the quiet, but decided that I would be much happier later if the laundry was done. And I am feeling good already. I'll save the book for another much needed time, enjoy the children who have played their heart out for the last 4 hours and will hopefully want some down time. Maybe we will get dressed today. Probably. And maybe I should just throw a bottle of shampoo into the backyard and see if they can wash their hair outside instead of . . . No, just kidding. I couldn't serously do that. It was a fun idea though.

Here's to a hot summer day, mom of 5 with another on the way, style!

School pictures

A little late, but here are the girl's school pictures that I somehow managed to forget to post. It must have been sometime this winter. That's the only excuse I have:

Swim Team

We did swim team again this year. Danielle joined in. Spencer tried, but wasn't quite able to swim the length of the pool, so hopefully he can do it next year. It was a lot of fun.

Sour Green Spring Soccer

I'm a little late in this post, but so is everything in my life. February, March, and April were a blur. I was so sick and exhausted I lost my will to do anything. The pregnancy hit me in full force the last week of January and it was all I could do to get out of bed each morning and get my kids off to school. As soon as the girls were at school, I laid on the couch with a blanket and felt like I was going to die. Nathan and Spencer became way too acquainted with Dora the Explorer and Diego. I was downright miserable. I was failing in every aspect. I couldn't take care of my children, didn't have enough energy to do any kind of cleaning, and my dear friends brought in meals so that my family could eat. Each pregnancy is a little different although I get sick with each one. I can endure two months of sickness because I really want each child and I feel so strongly that having another baby is what I am supposed to do. I love each one of my children so much and I can't imagine life without them, even if the pregnancies are tough. And usually when I hit 15 weeks, I feel much better, still tired, but I can once again enjoy life and my children and I can then get excited about the new arrival preparing it's way. With Nathan it was different. I did get a little better around week 20, but was throwing up the entire pregnancy. I didn't think I could handle another pregnancy like that one. I guess it wasn't so much if I could handle another pregnancy that sick, but could I do that to my family? I can deal with 9 months of fatigue and throwing-up, the end result is so worth it. But my family really suffers. Evan really suffers, although he tries his hardest to be compassionate and supportive. But that only goes so far with no clean clothes, no food in the pantry, no clean dishes, and children that are completely neglected. My mom came for a week and helped out. I was so thankful. My dad came during spring break to play with the kids while they were off from school. So wonderful. And my sister came one weekend and made 20 freezer meals so we would have something to eat around here. I was so thankful for the help because I really could not do it myself. I remember being out of milk for several days and finally just making myself get up and go to the grocery store. I pulled into the parking lot, unloaded Nathan and Spencer, walked to the back of the store and grabbed a gallon of milk. I lifted the milk to the cart and as I went to lift another gallon, I stopped and decided I did not have enough energy to pick it up let along put in on the conveyor belt, again into the cart, into the car, out of the car, and into my fridge. One gallon of milk was going to have to suffice until Evan could get us more. I was too exhausted. I beat myself up over how selfish I am to want another baby when I know what pregnancy does to us. But, I knew not only did I want another baby, but I was supposed to have another child. And so I hoped and prayed that the sick part of this pregnancy would last only two short months and then we could go on. Week 15 hit and I was still violently throwing up. Week 18 hit and I resigned to the idea that this pregnancy would go like the last, the entire 9 months. And then week 20 hit and I suddenly felt better. I was still nauseated, but I quit throwing up. I actually had some energy to cook dinner. I was able to go shopping and get Danielle some new shorts that fit. Life was slowly returning. Heavenly Father was helping me when He knew I could not endure any longer.

And so you probably are wondering why the title of this post is Spring soccer and why am I going on about myself. I don't think I will ever forget this Spring soccer 2010. It started the first week of February, right as the rough part of the pregnancy was hitting. I signed Taneal, Camie, and Danielle all up the first week of January, before I knew I was pregnant. 3 kids. Each a game every Saturday and one practice a week. And it was cold. I could not get warm. I had the temperature set in my house at 78 degrees and I was still freezing. Practice was so cold that I was shivering while the kids didn't even need jackets. And Nathan would not stay close. He was everywhere, trying his hardest to help me get my exercise. So, after 15 minutes of the first practice, we sat in the van while Camie had her practice on Monday night, Camie and Danielle both on Thursday night (for 2 hours, 1 hr each), and Taneal Friday night. And then 3-4 games every Saturday. I would have just quit with Danielle and Camie, but if we quit the team would have had to forfeit because there weren't enough players. I didn't know any of the other players who could help me out, so we endured. Taneal LOVES soccer, and so I could not stop. I knew several of the parents on Taneal's team who so graciously helped me with many of the practices and games. It was a very long season, one I never wish to repeat. But we endured. Thanks to my little brother, Charles, who put movies on my ipod so my children had something to do while we waited in the car during practices.

I must quite with the pessimism. I feel so much better now. My children learned to cook and clean. They are still playing. We cancelled the tv so Nathan and Spencer can learn to do something else. And we successfully made it through one season of soccer. Just because I stopped, they still continued. And they still love me. So here is to Spring soccer. And the blog entry is part of a journal, my journal. From my perspective. I do not write it in hopes of sympathy, I do not want any. I write it to document life and the ups and downs that we all have. Spring was both up and down for me, down because my body just does not like pregnancy, but up because I have been so blessed with this little life within me. I am excitedly waiting the arrival of this beautiful baby who will bless my life and the lives of those already part of my family.

Oh, and we missed Taneal's team picture, and I didn't pull out the camera to get my own pictures. I should not have bothered with Camie's team pictures because many from her team were not there, her coach included. I have no idea who the lady is standing in as the coach. Camie sure looks beautiful. And this was Danielle's first season to play. She was so cute, with her girly run. She would occasionally kick the ball, but was not aggressive in ANY way. I photoshopped the pictures to take out the name and locations. And even if next season I feel well, (which I will because I won't be pregnant) I don't think I want to EVER sign that many kids of for soccer again.

Sneak Peek

I waited for forever to go see the doctor with this pregnancy. So when I finally did go see the doctor, I was already 16 weeks. I pretty much waddled into the appointment. I am amazed at how fast I got big. The doctor comes into the room and immediately gets a strong heartbeat. It was very cool to hear the heartbeat. Then she asks if I can go across the hall and get an ultrasound to confirm the due date. I can tell you the due date, I can tell you the hour of the due date. But, okay. I like that, not a scheduled ultrasound, but a look at my baby, I'm all for that. And then I thought about me being by myself, Evan at work. They usually make you wait until 20 weeks before you can tell the gender. Danielle was at 17 weeks and we could tell. I got a little nervous. I couldn't find out without Evan being there. That is like a breach of contract, or something like that, right? A betrayal. But, I was only 16 weeks and definitely too early to find out. So, the tech is measuring, getting different angles, etc. And right there on the screen . . . oh no! I asked the tech if it was too early to know what you are having. She told me it was NOT too early. And then I said, "That's not a girl, is it?" Take a look at the first picture and you will see what I saw. That's no little girl! I really figured I was having another girl. I love girls. Boys are so rowdy and tough and dangerous and gross and smelly and don't wear bows and names are tough and you have to cut their hair monthly and they are harder to potty train and they pee outside and I'm not one of them so I don't know ANYTHING about boys. And I am about to have THREE!

Now how do I break the news to Evan that we are having a boy and I KNOW that we are having a boy and I knew before he knew? I called him after the appointment, not sure if I should even reveal that I know. But, I can't hide anything. So, I started by apologizing, "I had to have the ultrasound to get a due date and there it was. I accidentally found out what we were having and I am so sorry that I did it without you being there." I still had in mind to plan something cute to let him know, something around a candle light dinner and balloons and flowers and presents and . . . And on the other end of the phone I hear this whooping and hollering, "I'M HAVING ANOTHER BOY!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!" I think Evan was excited.

How did he know it was a boy? I hadn't told him that part yet.

Book of Mormon reading chart

This year in Primary, I really want to encourage the children to read the Book of Mormon. I don't want them sleeping through family scripture study as I did as a child, I want them to read and feel the power of the book. So, I looked and looked for a reading chart, tweaked it a little, and this is the result. I also wanted it to be a size that could be used as a bookmark in their scriptures. I decided to hand them out only to Senior Primary because they all read well enough to read the scriptures. However, anyone is welcome to participate. When a child brings me their completed chart, I will have a cool prize for them. I haven't brought up the chart since I handed it out because I don't want any of the children to feel like it is a contest. I want them to do this on their own.

And to use the chart, you start at the top of Moroni and go all the way across the entire row and then to the next row.

Of course, children are children, and Taneal and Camie confessed yesterday that they had lost their chart. I originally made copies onto card stock with only a few extras. I ran out in my Primary closet. So, today I sat down to reprint them and decided to put it on my blog just in case anyone else was interested in using the chart. It should print out to a 4x6. And, if you are in my ward and have misplaced your copy, I should have lots extra on Sunday. Hope you enjoy and happy reading!

Gasoline

Here's another funny:

I was driving to Target with Nathan and Spencer while the girls were at school. I realized that I was nearly out of gas, had been for a while. I scanned the businesses around and found no gas station, Target was first, so I told Spencer of my dilemma and decided the gas would hopefully last long enough to run my errand to Target BEFORE the gas station.

Spencer: "Mom, will Dad get us some gas?"

Me: "no, we have to get it at the gas station."

As we were getting out of the car, Spencer asked where we put the gas into the car. So, shut the door to the van and had him open up the little gas door. He puzzlingly looked at me and said, :

Spencer: "Mom, I don't think Dad's bum will fit in there!"

Me: "No, I don't think it will"

Spencer: "Will my bum fit in there?"

Me, trying with all my might not to laugh: "No sweetheart, it is a different kind of gas that goes in the car. We have to go to the gas station and buy it."

We did our shopping at Target and promptly headed to the has station. I had Spencer hop out of the car and I let him fill the van up with gas so he could see which kind of gas goes in the car.

Cute boy! His mind is so fun to watch and listen to.

Bad Words

The other day Danielle came running downstairs yelling, "Mom, Spencer used the "f" word!"

You can imagine how big my eyes were. I have never used that word and as far as I know it has never been used in my home or around my kids, let alone my 3-year-old. So after I realized I needed to breathe again, I decided to prod this a little and see what was up. So, I asked Danielle to quietly tell me what Spencer said.

"He said he would never be my 'friend' again and we aren't supposed to say that." she told me.

What a sign of relief. I love how innocent a child can be. If someone uses words like "stupid", or "dumb", or the worst of all, "shut up", my kids get the wide eyes and look at me like that person has said the most horrible and foulest words imaginable. When they hear the truly bad words they don't even notice because they don't realize they are even bad. So, way to go Danielle in letting me know Spencer's filthy mouth!

Open Mouth, Insert Foot

Sometime, more often lately, I really don't know where my brain has gone. This happened at soccer practice Monday night. I was sitting on the sidelines having a enjoyable conversation with one of the other soccer moms and we were commenting how all our children have different builds. I said that Danielle has more of my bone structure and is thin like I was as a child. Camie has more of the "Black" build with the fuller bum and thighs. From the look on her face I realized I had said something wrong. And then I realized the lady I was talking to was black and had no idea that my last name is Black. She thought I was referring to African American's big bums and thighs! I was so embarrassed at my lack of forethought. I quickly told her what my last name was and moved on in the conversation. As practice was finishing, I again apologized. She got a huge grin on her face and said she had a great laugh. So, hopefully no hard feelings. And I have got to find my brain again!

Spencer's Surgery

Spencer's surgery went very well. We had to be at the surgery center at 6am, which was a little tough. I told Spencer he got to pick out new pajamas (hospital gown) so he was excited. I also told him that they needed to talk to me for a while, so they were going to take him in another room that would be much more interesting. I also told him that the doctor was going to fix his eye, that it wouldn't hurt while the doctor was looking at it but it might hurt a little afterwards. I wanted to let him know something was going to happen without scaring him. I think I put too much of a good spin on it because he was so excited.

Spencer woke up screaming from the anesthesia. After he tore off his hospital gown and underwear, refused to let anyone cover him up, and about 20 minutes of pinning down his hands to keep him from rubbing his eye, I finally figured out he needed to use the bathroom. So, I carried a kicking and screaming naked boy to the bathroom and put him on the toilet and nothing happened. I guess that is one of the side-effects of anesthesia. He refused to get off the toilet and after about 15 minutes of sitting on the toilet, he finally went and he really did need to go. And he calmed down immediately.

The doctor said the procedure went well. He was able to easily lift the mass and cut it off. He put in three stitches to the eye ball. He said he didn't open the mass, he didn't want to ruin it, he would send it to pathology to analyze. He also said because the mass lifted right up, he was pretty sure it wasn't cancer. Huh? I didn't even realize that was a possibility!

The hardest part about the after surgery was the eye drops. They were a thick liquid so the eye had to be open to put the drop in, and I had to do it 4 times a day for a week. Spencer has such long eye lashes and cannot stand to have anything in his eyes, even bath water. It was a fight and I could not win. He would squint his eyes and I couldn't pry them open and then his eye lashes would get in the way. It was basically impossible. So, I resigned to getting up during the night and putting the drops in while he slept. It worked and it kept the infection away. And he usually slept right through it.

Yesterday was the follow-up. The night before I was looking at his eye and it looked like the mass had grown back, just not as big. It freaked me out a little. So when I went into the doctor appointment, I was sure the doctor was going to tell me something horrible. But, he said the pathology report came back as suspected, that there was a foreign object lodged in his eye and his white blood cells went crazy trying to get it out and couldn't so they cocooned it to protect his eye. His body worked just like it should. The cells around the sliver were inflamed and red but no cancer anywhere. His body worked perfectly. I was so relieved. And what I thought was the regrown mass was a flap of eyeball that couldn't be stitched down because eyes don't stretch like skin. It will heal, just takes time. ALL IS WELL! And what an unexpected ride.

Spencer's Eye

Strange things happen. Two Sundays ago I was sitting in church and noticed that Spencer had red in the corner of his eye. I was teaching Sharing Time and Evan was at home with a throwing up Camie. My first thought was, "man, Spencer has pink eye and I brought him to church, I don't have time to take him home and I didn't bring my cell phone to call Evan to come get him. Ahhhh! I don't have time for this!" I looked at it closer and decided I had no idea what it was, but it didn't look like pink eye. Danielle said she had been wrestling with Spencer the night before and accidentally hurt his eye. Solution to the red eye found, we are good to stay at church.

Well, the eye didn't get better. Since it was in the corner of his eye, I rarely noticed it. A week later my dad came to visit and noticed Spencer's eye. I really hate going to the doctor because of the wait and the copay that always result in just waiting it out, it will go away. But, if my dad was concerned, maybe I should take Spencer in, especially since my dad was willing to watch the kids.

I took Spencer in and guess what the pediatrician said, "I'm perplexed." Not a good sign if the pediatrician doesn't know what it is. She suspected it was allergies, but to be on the safe side, she scheduled an appointment with an Opthamologist at 1pm that afternoon. Wow, that was quick. Another bad sign.

The Opthamologist looked at it, checked Spencer's vision, dilated Spencer's eyes so he could get a look on the inside, and then told me what he thought. He said the inside of his eyes are clear, his vision is great. He can see an entry wound where it looks like something like a sliver of some kind, went into Spencer's eye and stayed on the surface. It was so swollen that he could not see if anything was still there, but by the reaction of the eye, it probably was. Solution: try antibiotic eye drops (Vigamox) and see if that clears it up and if it does not, surgery to remove whatever it is.

Well, three days later it has shown no sign of improvement. We are scheduled for surgery Monday morning. Basically what they will do is put Spencer out under general anesthesia. This is largely due to his age, a three-year-old cannot be still. It will be a 15 minute procedure where they cut off the spot, stitch the eye ball up, and it's done. Not a big surgery. It is on the white part of his eye, doesn't mess with the muscle, so it is pretty safe. He will be groggy the rest of the day and his eye will be bright red with some bruising. It is a pediatric Opthamologist doing the procedure at a Pediatric hospital, so I feel confident that they will be able to help Spencer be as comfortable as possible. But surgery is still surgery and that is never any fun.

Evan will eat ANYTHING

Evan brags about his ability to eat anything and not complain about it. It is part of being a "Black". All 16 kids (at least all the boys) and parents love to share how they are not picky, they pretty much like everything. Great quality, I suppose, one I do not possess nor wish to possess. I think my taste buds are too sensitive. If it isn't real Oreos, I won't eat them, why waste the calories on something that isn't great? If it isn't real Blue Bell ice cream, why bother? I can really taste the difference. Maybe this blog entry really has nothing to do with that. But as I continue, Evan really will eat just about everything. If dinner isn't put away from the night before, he will put it away in the morning. Do things really go bad? Eggs don't really need refrigeration, right? ANYTHING! I'm sure he has limits somewhere, I am just yet to find them.

So, Nathan must have figured out how to open the dishwasher last night. Evan was sitting in the living room watching tv and Nathan brought him a cup of water. Nathan said something, but he is still hard to understand. Evan took the cup from Nathan, didn't even look into the cup, just took a drink. He stood up, ran to the kitchen sink, and spit it out. Evan realized that Nathan had brought him a cup from the clean dishwasher that had turned over and filled up with yucky, soapy, nasty dishwater. And Evan took a drink. Evan then realized what Nathan had been saying to him, "yucky!" Yes, indeed yucky, disgusting, and nasty! I don't think I have laughed that hard in months. Thank goodness Evan was laughing right with me. And thankfully Nathan hadn't been dipping the cup in toilet water.

Let's Be Frank

For those of you who live close, you've probably already noticed the bulge. For those of you not so close, you've probably noticed I have totally checked out, barely even blogging. And for my dear, dear friends, thank you so much for the compassion you have shown to me through supporting me, listening to me, bringing me meals, watching my children, and helping me in my calling. The last many weeks could not have been survived without you.

I am expecting baby #6 and am so excited, but oh, so sick. I just am not any good at being pregnant. I throw up, loose every bit of energy, and sometimes wish I could disappear for 9 months. I've been throwing up so hard I have black eyes because I have popped the blood vessels all around my eyes. I feel like I have the flu, my bones ache. I don't know if I am just getting old. I have had rough first trimesters with all my babies, and hopefully any day now the nausea should go away. I am praying because it is getting to be a bit too much. The couch and PBS have become my best friends. If I don't move, I don't usually throw up. But, with 5 children, I have to move, and being Primary President of a new ward also requires movement. I love my family, I love serving in church. I love that I get to have another baby. I have been so blessed. I do not love the sickness that comes with pregnancy. Obviously the end reward is worth it or I wouldn't do this 6 times, but when I am in the thick of the morning/all day sickness, I wonder how I can possibly survive.

So I am being "frank". Probably shouldn't be. I'm not trying to get sympathy, because I know a lot of women have it a whole lot worse. I like to be upbeat and positive, I know nobody wants to be around a negative person. And I usually am pretty positive, I think. So please forgive me for telling it like it is. I am so blessed. Come September when I have my strength back and life can return to normalcy, life will be good. I know this because I've done it so many times before. Until then, I will endure to the end and pray for a few good days here and there. And hope the nausea goes away soon. I'm not looking too pretty with black eyes.