Nicky visited the Audiologist today for his hearing exam. He was a little nervous given his last experience at a doctor's office, but he did very well. Especially after I assured him that he wouldn't be getting any shots, and I promised him candy after the visit if he behaved. Hey, bribery works!

So, she was a very nice lady, very personable and extremely thorough. She showed us Nicky's eardrums on a video monitor, and did a tympanogram to measure the amount of fluid built up behind his eardrums, and tested his hearing in each ear.

The results? He has fluid in both ears, and a pretty good amount of it, too. Not an infection, necessarily, but fluid. He has 20-30% hearing loss in his right ear, mostly related to the fluid (although I don't understand how, with lots of fluid in both ears, the hearing loss in only in one. But hey, she's the professional!).

Anyway, given the results of his hearing screening back in May, plus the fluid now, she suspects it's an ongoing problem. She wants to see him back in 6 weeks to check the fluid levels, and we'll go from there. The next step, if they're still clogged, is to try antihistamines to clear them up. If that doesn't work, they'd put tubes in his ears. That one surprised me--I thought they only did that for babies. But no, she says they do them regularly on children and fairly often in adults.

So, that's where we are. Waiting for 6 more weeks.

We also addressed the speech issue, and she and our Dr. had discussed this already. They would want to get the fluid cleared up before any therapy, but probably would want to give him about 6 months regardless before beginning anything. That would give him a chance to be able to hear correctly plus to grow out of the bad speech habit. Apparently the r's are a common stumbling block in kids and alot of them can fix it on their own, with the other stuff following behind. So, we'll see.

__________________________________

Total change in topic.

This morning as I was getting dressed Drew came in and said "Hey, Mom? Those pants make your butt look really big."

Oh, my. I was floored!

I said "Drew! You know that's not nice! We don't say things like that!", to which he responded "Oh, sorry. Bottom. Those pants make your bottom look big. OK?"

Sometimes you've just gotta laugh, right?

Look at Drew riding his new bike. Now, look again. What do you see missing? That's right, the training wheels!

Drew has had this bike for just over a week. Before this the boys had a 12 inch bike with training wheels that they shared, but neither of them ever rode it much. Drew didn't ride it because it was WAY to small for him, and Nick didn't ride it mostly because it was "Drew's" and he wanted his own. I can't blame him, really, because nearly everything he has he either shares with his brother or used to belong to his brother. That's why we got Nick a new bike, too, and gave the old one (a hand-me down anyway) to one of Andy's co-workers for his little boy.

Anyway, one day last week we took his training wheels off, and it was a disaster. Probably because I was the one helping him, and got really frustrated with him when he fell off and refused to get back on. Of course I wasn't angry with him for falling, but it annoyed me that he was so easily intimidated and wouldn't try again, because he was really doing well and had it down. End result? We put the training wheels back on (referring to them now as "baby wheels") and went on with our lives.

So, Saturday evening Andy and the boys went over to the school to ride bikes and play while I stayed on the deck with my book. Andy convinced Drew try again without the baby wheels. Now remember, Andy has so much more patience than I do. So much more. And Drew did well, just like I knew he could.

Yesterday evening I went along to document the occasion, and he was really flying around that parking lot. It's quite impressive. Impressive enough that Nicky wants to take his training wheels off, too, and I'm certain that wouldn't be a good idea!

The only thing that's not impressive is the way he stops. He just can't seem to remember that he has brakes. And this bike has a hand brake and a pedal brake, so it's not like he doesn't have options. But when he's ready to stop he does one of two things--he leaves a mile of space in front of him and quits pedaling until he slows down enough to fall over, or he simply runs into the curb. Spectacular, but not really safe.

As soon as he's really confident we're going to start taking the bikes to the farm so they can ride in the mudholes and down the long hills. Won't that be fun?

Both of my boys are pretty smart. I'm not saying this in a bragging parent way, I'm just stating a fact. They're not geniuses or anything, but they're no dummies. They know lots of random facts about things that interest them, and both of them have a pretty good grasp on vocabulary. Both boys, but Drew especially, have been known to correct me (and other adults) when they think we've made a grammatical error or an error in pronunciation. Quite holier than thou, my kids.

Which is why it's so funny that both of them insist on referring to the air conditioner in the truck as the "air confreshener". They have the belief that the units in homes are "air conditioners" and the units in vehicles are "air confresheners", and no one can tell them differently--especially not their Mom who, according to what Nicky told me this morning, "doesn't know everything".

My kids are funny.

A random list of things that are new in my life:

• I got new curtains for the bedroom. Actually, although they are new, it's not like I just switched out the old ones. No. We've lived in this house for 7 1/2 years and I've just now gotten around to putting curtains in our bedroom. I am so pleased. It makes such a huge difference! And, they were on clearance from JC Penney, so I only paid $40 total. Nice.
• I also got a new pair of shoes. They're Sketchers. Tennis shoes, but cuter. Black with sparkly areas, and the elastic fake laces instead of real laces I have to tie. I love them. Added bonus--they have a thick sole and make me a full inch taller!
• For the past 3 nights, the boys have attended Vacation Bible School at the babysitters church. She picked them up and dropped them off on her way, so from a little after 5 until a little after 8 I've been alone (Andy is at work). That is definitely new! I'm not used to them doing things without me, but I think it's something I could get used to really easily!
• Oh, and this is perhaps the best new thing of all. Meet Jackson Blake:
  

Our friends had a baby yesterday! Andy has been best friends with this little guy's dad since they were 3 years old. Andy visited them today in the hospital and took this photo--the boys and I will make a trip their way in a few weeks when they're all settled back in at home and visit some more. Nick is already excited about getting to hold the baby. Jackson has a big sister named Lexie who's 4 like Nicky, so it'll be a fun visit for all. We can't wait!

Yesterday the boys visited the Dr. for their yearly physicals. I love our Dr., and so do the boys. They were actually looking forward to the visit.

First everyone was weighed and measured. They have both been growing like weeds apparently, with Drew now being 45 inches tall and Nicky at 41 inches. And Drew has packed on 5 pounds just since February! Everything checked out fine and the boys thought we were finished, but no. This visit ended up not being as fun as most.

Drew has a wart on his finger that the Dr. froze off for him/me. He actually handled the procedure pretty well, and though he did complain that it hurt a little he did not cry or try to get away.

Not so for Nicky. He is 4, which means it was time for his next round of immunizations. He needed 2 shots. I had prepped him for this, and he said "I am nervous, but I promise I will be brave."

When Drew turned 4 he got shots (3, I think) and he did wonderfully. He never cried, or even flinched. And he is typically much more dramatic than his brother, so I figured it wouldn't be too awful.

Boy, was I wrong. He sat on my lap, and the nurse prepped his arm. She stuck him, and he jerked away and screamed, making it necessary for her to stick him again. Of course, I wasn't holding him tightly enough and he jerked away again. By this time he was in a panic, screaming and crying and kicking. So we decided to use his leg, and I wrapped his leg in mine and held him tight. She did both shots pretty quickly, with him screaming and crying and struggling the entire time. It was awful. I felt so bad, but there really was nothing I could do. After, he just clung to me like he was a tiny baby again, and sobbed. Poor Nicky.

As we were leaving, one of the kids in the waiting room saw him still crying and asked his mom "Is that the little boy that was screaming? What did they DO to him?" He looked terrified. Poor kid. I hope he didn't need shots, too...

Anyway, the Dr. also listened to Nicky talk and agreed that he could use some assistance with his speech. He recommends the first step to be checking his hearing, to rule that out as the cause. So, he referred us to an Audiologist and next Tuesday we'll visit her and have his hearing officially checked. If that turns out alright, the next step is a Dr. referral to a speech pathologist, which should be covered by insurance as long as we have that referral. So, it looks like we're moving in the right direction there.

At any rate, that's done for the next year. Next big thing? First day of 1st grade for Drew, on August 8.

Because I wanted to be able to enjoy the party on Saturday without having to worry about my camera all evening, I gave Doug the Rebel and asked him to document the festivities for me. I did keep the baby camera in my pocket and took a few photos, but Doug took over 200! He took the usual party snapshots, but he also roamed around and took several shots that never would have occurred to me. I love them. What do you think?

I will tell you all about the party. But first, what do you think of this photo? I edited it in Photoshop using a technique that Chris over at Rude Cactus so kindly shared with me. I've admired his photographs for a long time, they're all so soft and glowy and I just love them. Finally today I asked him how he did it, and he shared with me. It's so simple, and yet so effective. I love it.

Anyway, the party, right? You're all just dying to know every minute detail?

Nah, that would be boring.

I'll just say the party was great. There were lots of people here, and lots of kids. Everyone seemed to have a great time. The cake was awesome, the food was good, and all the kids wore themselves out playing in the pool (where I floated duck decoys) and shooting water guns (at the targets I hung on the fence and at the ducks and at everyone nearby) and jumping on the trampoline. The boys got nice gifts--lots of Transformers, some books and some jammies. New shoes. Radio controlled trucks. Movies, and new bikes from us. Hot Wheels and gift cards to Wal-Mart. Little camo folding chairs in just their size. Everyone was so nice, and picked out gifts perfect for each of the kids.

I do want to take a moment right here to let you all know what a HUGE help my family was. My sister-in-law, Kellie, helped me all day. She helped me with the shopping and decorating and served most of the food herself. She entertained little kids and was just wonderful. Doug took photos for me all day long. Chip and Shira brought Aiva down early in the day and the boys loved playing with all of them. Mom and Kellie made pasta salad and dip and sliced cucumbers. Mom and Dad brought a cooler and chairs. I have a great family--thanks, guys!

Also, my buddy Jason (the photographer) was in attendance with his daughter, Sara. He brought along his camera and took over 600 photographs! I haven't had a chance to do much more than just glance at them, but some of them are super nice. Thanks, Jason!

OK, either tomorrow or Wed. be on the lookout for the post of Doug's photos. I just need to get them all together and online and I'll be sharing with you :-)

Between both of my cameras and my friend Jason (the pro photographer, the one who did our family photos) there were nearly 1,000 photos taken at the party! I think that's more than some weddings! And, believe it or not, I only took about 30 of them. I was busy!

Anyway, here's a select few. And be prepared for another photo post sometime this week, consisting only of photos that my brother Doug took using my camera. He's got quite an eye, and a totally different photography style than I do.

And on the Saturday in between we're hosting the Big Birthday Bash. I am off work tomorrow to prepare for the party. The yard must be mowed and the house cleaned from top to bottom. I've got to do the grocery shopping for the party. I have to go out to the farm where the gifts are stashed (bikes for both boys!) and pick those up, as well as some borrowed tables and chairs. My folks are coming into town tomorrow (first visit since Dad's hip surgery in November!), and so are my brother and sister-in-law. The rest of our family and friends will trickle in throughout the day on Saturday, and at 5ish the party will begin.

So, certainly you can understand if I take a few days off, right? I'll try to pop in Sunday evening with some party photos, and on Monday I'll give you all the exciting details, and then it will be back to our regularly scheduled blogging.

I've been working hard at getting the boys to do more to help out around here. I admit that I'm often guilty of doing things for them simply because it's easier, and it's sure to be done better and more quickly if I do it, so having them do more around the house is as much of a habit change for me as it is for them.

Currently they have several minor responsibilities. They get their own drinks at meal times (or at least the cups, even if I pour the milk) and they clear their places after each meal. They take turns wiping down the table and putting the tablecloth back. They are responsible for putting any dirty clothes into the hamper--if it gets left on the floor or beds I take it away. I only had to take away a favorite shirt one time for them to learn that lesson! They feed the outside cats, and make sure the indoor cats have water. They each vacuum one room a week. Recently, Drew has taken over reading a bedtime story to his brother--a habit that I think is sweet but that also annoys me because that's my job. And, of course, they must pick up their toys (inside and outside) every evening before bed. I expect their room to be mostly straight with toys and books in the appropriate places, and I check it every night. Nick feeds the fish.

What I'm really waiting for, though, is for them to start showing some initiative and doing things without being told, or at least without being told a hundred times. I do realize that this may be an unrealistic goal at their age, especially considering that their dad is 33 and still rarely does household chores without being asked or reminded. However, I do hope.

So, you can understand why I was excited to find that Drew had replaced the toilet paper roll in the bathroom this afternoon, completely on his own. He used the last of the toilet paper, removed the empty roll and put it in the trash, got a fresh roll out of the closet, and put it on the holder.

Of course, he put it on backwards, with the paper coming off from the back instead of over the top and on the front. Drives me insane for it to be backwards, and of course I have to change it.

How picky do you think I can be?

Nicky was so excited for today. Today was the day for his preschool screening. The re-screening, because the ladies that spoke with us back in the spring thought that his speech was delayed enough that he could use some help. They were pretty confident that the screening today would gain Nick admission to preschool for this fall.

They were wrong.

The lady that we spoke with spent exactly seven minutes evaluating his speech. She had him identify 30 flash cards and asked him his brother's name. She didn't even really ask him anything that I thought showcased his issues, but hey, I'm not the expert, right? Then she added up some numbers and proceeded to explain to me that while his speech was indeed delayed and he does definitely have some issues (he tested in the 35th percentile for 4 year olds, meaning that 65% of 4 year olds speak better than he does), he still doesn't qualify for preschool. Why? He doesn't speak badly enough--he needs to be in the 20th percentile or lower to qualify.

After 7 minutes of minimal conversation with a child she'd never met, this lady was ready to shuffle us out the door. She wasn't at all concerned with the fact that my little boy was in tears because he so desperately wants to go to school, or that I nearly was because of the way my boy felt and was treated. She wasn't helpful in the least when I asked her for alternatives because we still have concerns about his speech. And she was downright rude when I suggested she ask him some other words--the ones that I think define his issues. She is the expert, after all.

I do understand that there are rules to be followed, and if he doesn't meet the guidelines he doesn't. OK. I may have felt better about the whole situation had they spent an hour with him truly evaluating him and then pronouncing him alright and not in need of any help. If they had made some attempt to reassure me that his speech patterns were indeed normal and that I was worried for nothing. But instead, they told me that he does have a problem, but they're not going to help him, because, well, they're just not. Other kids need the help more--you know, the ones that don't speak any English at all.

I am angry. And upset. But there's nothing that I can do about it. We cannot afford a private preschool and the government says I'm too well-off to qualify to public preschool. Speech therapists aren't covered by insurance, so we can't afford that, either.

So, Nicky will stay with the babysitter another year. And I'm sure that in the great, grand scheme of things all will be fine.

But it's not fair. I work hard and I pay my taxes to support our schools and aid programs. Since it's my money funding them, shouldn't we be allowed to use them if we have a legitimate need?

Not fair.

I don't frighten easily. I really don't. But today, well, today I was scared. Not really as scared as I could have been, I guess, but definitely a bit unnerved.

The boys and I had some errands to run today, so we didn't get home until after Andy had already left for work. Being here alone (with or without the kids) doesn't bother me in the slightest. As a matter of fact, I'm here without him more often than I am here with him (even overnight), and have been for the past 3 years. That's just how it is.

I sent the boys on into the house and was unloading some things from the passenger side of the truck when a large (tall and stocky, not fat) young man walked into the carport. Now, we don't live in an area with sidewalks. We live on a rural stretch of highway, speed limit 55 mph, where people aren't typically walking down the road. He seemed to appear out of nowhere, as I had pulled into the driveway not 5 minutes earlier and didn't notice him anywhere. He was perhaps 20-25 years old. He was carrying a laptop computer, wearing two large fancy watches, and was quite obviously drunk or high on something. He said, quite politely, "Excuse me, ma'am, I was just robbed down the road there, and I need a ride home."

Well, no matter how polite he was, there was absolutely no way I was driving him anywhere. In an attempt to get him out of my carport, I suggested that he walk back and ask my neighbors for a ride. As I was going into the house, he followed me to the door, and I had to close it in his face. I called Andy at work, who called Dispatch. Then I called my neighbor and as I was locking the back door I heard Nicky yell from the living room. I hollered for him, but by the time I made it to the front of the house (not far) he was opening the front door and letting this young man into the house.

I closed that door in his face, too, and I think I actually hit him with it. He just sat down on my front porch with his laptop.

My neighbors arrived (father and son) and talked to him. Now his story was that he was walking to the next town (30 miles) and he said nothing about being robbed, but he offered his laptop in exchange for the ride. We offered to call someone for him, he said there was no one he could call. Jordan (the son) said he'd gotten out of a car next door at the school and was screaming at the person who drove off and left him there.

So the fellow finally staggered off down the road. We saw him heading up the next driveway. This was the time that the Sheriff's Department arrived. They asked us what happened, and then rounded the guy up. He was arrested, but I'm not sure on what charges.

I have a feeling that he truly meant no harm. I think he was just trying to get home. I really do. But he tried 2 separate times to come into my home--my home where I was alone with my kids. And people under the influence of alcohol or drugs can be scary and unpredictable. And he was big--way bigger than me. And Nick, well, Nick just let him in the door!

Several years ago our house was robbed. Someone broke in while we were at work and stole our things. I felt violated and icky and I was jumpy every time I came home for months afterward. But I was never really scared. I mean, they were here while we weren't. What are they going to hurt, besides possessions that ultimately can be replaced? But this guy, he was here while I was here, while my kids were here. He could have hurt us, if he'd have felt like it.

He was almost in my home.

It was scary.

Oh, and also today we found a stray puppy, and we almost had to keep it, except I found it a home. Whew! No one wants a dog more than I do, but we are so not in a place for one right now. And also tonight I had to take Nicky to the Convenient Care physician, because any tiny touch on his left ear sent him into hysterics from pain. No fever. Diagnosis: Swimmers Ear. So, one trip to the Dr. and one to the pharmacy, 2.5 hours and $60 later, we have some ear drops and some Tylenol 3 and instructions for NO SWIMMING for 3 days.

What a day, huh?

How much self-pity is one allowed to wallow in before it's just stupid and wrong?

More drama with my friend.

Not the girlfriend. She's really just that way and I've learned to expect that sort of thing from her. I'm mostly over it.

But my other friend. The guy.

Andy says for that very reason I should cut him some slack. Guys just don't get it.

So, a poll. A survey, if you will.

Do apologies over e-mail count? For major, major screwups? If your best friend essentially blew you off and stood you up and ignored repeated attempts to contact them and then sent a generic e-mail saying "I'm sorry I was busy I forgot" would you consider it all said and done and everything hunky-dory? I say, at minimum, a phone call is in order. A phone call with a real, heartfelt apology and an explanation for his actions. And perhaps a tiny bit of groveling. Just a tiny bit.

Am I asking too much?

Well, we're down to less than 2 weeks until the Big Birthday Bash. The boys are beside themselves with excitement. I am beside myself with something. It's not excitement. It's not really dread. Nervousness, maybe? Apprehension?

OK, so, I have the cake ordered. It has ducks on it. Ducks and cattails. Normally I do the cake myself, but I'm just not feeling up to it this year. So, Kroger is doing it for me. Blue cake, like water. 3 ducks. Cattails and rushes. "Happy Birthday Drew and Nick". And 2 duck calls. The boys will love it.

• Camo fabric for table covers? Check.
• Tables? Not yet, but planned for.
• Blaze orange plates and forks? Check.
• Camo napkins? Ordered. (Hmmm. Will those be hard to see on the camo tables?)
• Duck decoys to float in the wading pools? Check.
• Deer antlers for decoration? Check.
• Water guns for the kids to play with after the cake? Check. (10 of them!)
• Goodie bags, filled and ready to go? Check.
• Paper targets to hang on the fence, for the water guns? Check.
• Balloons? Will pick up day of party, same time as cake.
• Party shirts? Check. (Nick's has a deer on it, Drew's says "When I grow up I'm going to be a hunter", and mine says "Shoots like a girl". Andy didn't want a special party shirt.)

OK, so I think that just leaves me with the food and drinks, right? Right. We'll grill hot dogs, and have chips and dip. Mom will make dip, won't you, Mom? I'll make BBQ baked beans, and deviled eggs. I think we need some potato salad or pasta salad or something also--could you do that, too, Mom? Or maybe Kellie? Ya'll are better at it than me. I'll get some ice cream to go with the cake. And I'll have drinks in the coolers--cokes and bottles of water and juice pouches for the kids, and beer for whoever would like it.

Oh, and the chairs all still need to be washed, and the yard will need to be mowed and trimmed, and the house cleaned, and of course all the actual decorating.

And between now and then I'm attending a birthday party, 2 housewarming parties, and Nick's pre-school evaluation.

Do you think I'll survive?

Oh, and...

Thank you everyone for your advice about my shoulder. It's feeling alot better now, so I'll probably wait and mention it to the dr. when I have the boys in for their checkups in a few weeks (the 24th, however far away that is). It still hurts, but not nearly as badly as it did. And yes, I realize that this means I'm totally not doing what every single one of you said I should do. Could not one have you taken my side here? I mean, really. Andy will be gloating over this for a while to come. But you should realize by now, I'm stubborn. And it's just going to have to wait until the 24th. The boys and I see the same dr., so unless it falls of before then or something I can promise you I will get a medical opinion that day.

OK, one last thing. Check out this contest my buddy Tanyetta is having. You could win a prize!

Ok, first a little backstory...

Two summers ago, I was riding as a passenger in a utility vehicle like this one through a wooded area and took a pretty hard blow to my right shoulder from a large branch. Hard enough to nearly knock me out of my seat and to leave my shoulder black and blue and very sore for over a week. It didn't dislocate it or anything, though, so I figured it was no big deal.

Well, the following winter, I noticed I was a little stiff in that shoulder. At my regular checkup that following spring I mentioned it to my Dr., who examined me and said that I had some "injury-related arthritis" in the joint. Basically, it might hurt when it was cold or rainy or when I strained it, and it may never be as strong as it was, because when I got smacked by that branch I probably tore the joint capsule. Nice. But really, there's nothing to be done for it, except perhaps preventative measures like take Glucosamine Chondroitin or Gelatin capsules to help all of my joints (I have a bum knee, too).

So, from time to time I notice a little stiffness in my right shoulder, and occasionally it pops or crackles. Fun. But generally it doesn't give me much trouble at all--it doesn't hurt nearly as bad as my knee.

Did you guys enjoy my little video tour of the yard from Saturday? I did alot of work Saturday--25 bags of mulch, all those rocks, pulled weeds, watered, etc... And what did you think of my pretty new planter box? Well, that planter box had to be filled with something. I drove myself out to the farm while all 3 of my boys were napping and attacked the compost pile, and loaded a nice large pile of compost into the back of the truck, enough to fill the planter box and a little extra for other projects. This was after I did everything else. I drove home and was about 6 shovels into emptying the compost into a wheelbarrow when something in my shoulder made this nifty little popping sound, and out of somewhere a knife stuck right into the front of my shoulder joint.

Oh. My. Goodness.

So now, now my arm doesn't want to lift up. Well, it'll swing forward, and backwards. It just doesn't like to lift out. And really, it's only for a little bit, and if I force it through the pain (Oh! The Pain!) for the tiny little way that it doesn't want to go, it's fine. Once it's up in the air I can wave it around as much as I like. It's just getting it there that's the problem.

So, what's wrong with my shoulder? I'm thinking pinched nerve? Or am I totally off base? Andy says I should go to the Dr., but I say why? What's he gonna do? He's going to wiggle it around and hurt me, possibly x-ray it, and then what? Put it in a sling? I can stick my thumb in my waistband and get the same effect. Give me pain meds? I won't take them, so no use wasting his time and mine. Most likely he's going to say, BE MORE CAREFUL! And it's going to cost me at least the co-pay and maybe more. I say no Dr.

What do you say? Any experts out there?

Well, looking back over my posts, I guess it's easy to see I've had kind of a rough week. Between my friends (or lack thereof) and my kids, it seems no one has been too nice to me.

Of course, much of that is my own doing. I realize that I tend to let things build up, that I don't always communicate as well as I should, and that I often misunderstand situations simply because I jump to conclusions. And in the end, all may be well. We shall see. As of this posting, however, I still have not heard from either of my friends, one of which I was supposed to have had lunch with today.

At any rate, I am making it a point to have a nice weekend with the boys. Andy will be working/sleeping all day Saturday and Sunday like usual, but I have what I think will be some pretty fun activities lined up for the kids and I to do. All open-ended kind of stuff, so no pressure for any of us.

The fair is in town, so that's an option. It's pretty hot outside, and we're low on cash these days (vacation plus unpaid vacation days and no overtime=little income!), so we'll see. But it's always there as a to-do. It would include tractor pulls, midway rides, and cotton candy. They would love it, and I think I could have fun.

Our friends with the farm are gearing up for some improvement projects, and they've got some heavy equipment present on the property. Dump trucks, skid loaders, and possibly a bulldozer in addition to the regular contingent of tractors, trailers, 4-wheelers, and utility vehicles. And they'll be working on Sunday and promised the boys rides in/on the equipment if we came out. Definitely something they'd love, and of course they'd get to play with the dog while they were there, too.

We have our regular shopping and errand running to do, but also some party planning. There's a new party store in town, and I thought the boys might enjoy picking out some of the decor and goody bag stuffers that still need to be obtained. That project might prove to be a bit of a headache for me, but total fun for them.

Also this weekend I need to get to working on making the yard look a little better if I'm going to be hosting a party for 30 or more people in just a few weeks. I'm buying mulch, and probably more flowers, and it's going to take more than a few hours to get all that in and looking good. That won't all be accomplished in this one weekend, but it will be started. Working in the yard always makes me feel good, and the boys proved to me last year that they can be quite good helpers when they put their minds to it--especially when I let them use their dump trucks to move the mulch!

And, I hear a rumor that there will be yet another fireworks show on Saturday night. Hmmm. Might be an option, if we're not to tired from everything else...

So, this weekend will be good. I am planning for it. I'm counting on it.

What are you doing this weekend?

I'm going to make a confession today. And it may make me some enemies or lose me some loyal readers...or it may make some people feel better because they feel the same way. Who knows? But I'm going to say it, because it's true and I feel it and it needs to go somewhere.

I don't always like my kids.

There. I said it.

I love them. I love them with all of my heart, with every fiber of my being. I would do anything for them at any moment. There isn't anything in this world that I wouldn't do to make them happy, to keep them safe, to let them know that they are loved, to ensure that they grow up happy and healthy.

But I don't always like the little people that they are.

When they were babies, I couldn't conceive of not liking them. Because they really didn't have personalities. I mean, yeah, they had tempers, and happy times, and likes and dislikes. But they were babies. They pretty much ate and slept and cried and didn't realize that actions had consequences. They didn't do things on purpose. They weren't deliberately manipulative, or intentionally cruel. And even if the things that my children do now are perfectly normal things that all children do, I don't like it. It bothers me.

When I hear Drew tell Nick that he's stupid because he can't get the straw into the Capri Sun pouch by himself, I don't like the mean little child that Drew is. I know it's normal, but I don't like it. I want him to be nice, and helpful. When I see Nicky push the cat off the arm of the sofa, just because he feels like it, a little curl of distaste rolls through my stomach. I don't like when he does things like that--my kids should be more compassionate. Last night, when Drew shot his brother with a popper firework on purpose just to see what would happen, and in retaliation Nick touched Drew with a sparkler? I wondered just what kind of children I was raising. Because certainly I haven't done such a horrible job in just a few short years. When they don't listen, when they talk back, when they announce with increasing regularity that they won't be my friend anymore, that they'd like another mom--one who is nice and will let them have all the Pepsi they want, when they do all these things and more, these are the times that I feel myself not liking the little personalities that they are.

And I am worried. I mean, they are little. They are 6, and 4. People keep telling me, just wait. Just wait, they say. Little kids are easy, they say. Just wait. When they are teenagers is when it is hard. That is when they give you trouble.

Oh, my. How will I feel about them then?

Of course, there are plenty of times that I do like them. Lots of moments when they prove themselves kind and compassionate and loyal and loving and fun. Probably more times when I like them then when the opposite is true.

But no one ever told me that there would be times when I didn't like my kids. Obviously if they grew up to be serial killers or something, yeah. Ok. I wouldn't need to like them then. But I never really thought about having to work around personality differences between my children and myself.

This past weekend, someone that I consider to be one of my very best friends let me down in a big, big way. My friend Annie, who I haven't seen in person for over 4 years even though we speak regularly on the phone, and who I miss very much, was in Evansville, Indiana. She was there for 3 days. Evansville is only a little more than an hour from here, but she didn't call me. Why? I don't know. I only found out that she was there by accident--I called to speak to her and got her husband, who was sorry that I spoiled the surprise. He was expecting her to call me. He told me to wait, and to act surprised when she called. I would have been more than willing to drive to see her, even if it would have only been for a few hours. I still haven't heard from her, and she was supposed to be back home in Northern Illinois on Sunday. I am disappointed, and sad.

One of my other very best friends, (who, coincidentally, also lives in Illinois) is planning on being in the area this weekend--within an hour or two of here. We see each other maybe once a year, and I miss him terribly. We exchanged e-mails late last week making tentative plans to get together either Thursday or Friday. I told him that I needed to know something by today (Tuesday) in order to make arrangements with work and with the babysitter. Have I heard from him? Of course not. He's not returned my e-mails or my phone calls. He's avoiding me, the same way he always does when he's needing to tell me something that I don't want to hear. I guess I won't be seeing him this weekend, either.

I don't have many good friends. I'm a firm believer in the fact that friendships need to grow, and it takes time to grow good ones. Time and effort. I do have many casual acquaintances, but not alot of good friends.

I am a great friend to have. I will help you study for a test, or write a paper. I will help you paint your house, or help you move. I will crochet you a baby blanket when you have a baby, and I'll throw you a baby shower, too. I'll frame one of my photographs as a housewarming gift for you, no matter how many times you move into a new home. I'll watch your kids, for free, any time. I'll keep your dog while you're on vacation. I'll drive hours, just to say hello. I'll drive hours, just to attend your kid's birthday party. I'll come pick you up when your car won't start, even if I'll be late for work (and I hate to be late). I always answer the phone, or return calls or e-mails. I will loan you my truck, or my car, or my clothes, or my tools. I'll dig you flowers out of my yard. I will do all that for you and more, and all you have to do is ask (and sometimes you don't even have to ask--I'll offer!) if you are my friend.

I have discovered, though, that friendship to me does not have the same meaning that it has to many people. So many people will take and take and take from you but when the time comes that you need something back they disappear. Friendship to many people seems to mean the occasional phone call, a lunch here and there, get together when you can and hey, if you need help I'll help you out--if it's convenient for me. Some people are friends, real true friends for the moment, but they just don't want to put any effort into keeping it that way. It's easier to just let it go then to argue with the traffic or the miles or the wife or whatever it is that's keeping you apart.

I think I'm going to stop making the effort. Because I'm pretty sure my effort is what's keeping these friendships alive in the first place. And if I put all that effort into making and keeping my family and friends that are here happy and healthy we might all be alot better off.

Of course, if they call I'm here. I'm not giving up. I'm not just going to try so hard anymore. I need to see that I mean as much to them as they mean to me.

On Saturday night, Drew fell asleep right away, just like usual. Nick resisted going to bed, just like usual, only he did a better job than normal and it was nearly 11:30 PM before he went to sleep. I went to bed immediately after, fully expecting him to sleep all night and fairly late Sunday morning after his late night.

Imagine my surprise to be awakened by yelling at 2:30 AM. I was even more surprised when I woke enough to comprehend what I was hearing/seeing when I went into the boys' room.

Now remember, they sleep in bunk beds, Drew on top and Nick below.

Drew was sleeping peacefully on the top bed, one arm dangling through the railing. The room was lit only by the aquarium. Nicholas was standing in the middle of the room, facing his brother sleeping in the top bunk and screaming at the top of his lungs:

"GIVE ME BACK MY POP TART! YOU TOOK IT! GIVE IT BACK! GIVE ME BACK MY POP TART! GIVE IT BACK NOW!"

Now, that may be mildly amusing, especially since Drew was sleeping still. What makes it even funnier was that the entire time he was screaming, he was throwing things at him. He'd pitched both of his beloved lions, Cinderella, a teddy bear, and a giraffe at him already by the time I got in there, and was winding up with a Care Bear before I stopped him.

I stopped him in mid throw, and told him to calm down. He was crying, telling me that Drew took his Pop Tart and he needed it back. I tried to explain that it was just a dream. I showed him that Drew was asleep. Nothing worked. He was very, very upset. I asked him what would make him feel better, and he said if I'd get him a Pop Tart he'd be OK.

Normally I wouldn't feed him in the middle of the night, but I really didn't see any other way out of this other than to let him sob himself to sleep. I was pretty sure this wasn't just an elaborate ploy for a midnight snack, especially since he really could just sneak out and get one himself while I was sleeping if he really wanted one.

So, I left him all cozy in his bed, all his friends returned to their proper places and his blankie covering him and his lions. Drew was still sleeping, one arm dangling over the side that I hit every time I crawled in and out of Nick's spot. I promised to return in one minute with a Pop Tart.

I got to the kitchen, only to discover that we didn't have any Pop Tarts. Oh, no. This was going to be bad.

Good thing he had already fallen back asleep when I got back in there, huh?