Just 'BOOK' em' all...

I was discussing this story with my daughter while she was home from college on Winter break.  Apparently she remembers witnessing this event- but I don't remember her being with us.  The trauma must have been so great that it popped holes in my memory. 

That said- here's another story about swear words....

Kelsey came home one afternoon and reported that our Andy had been observed from a high school hallway swearing up a storm.  Apparently the homeroom teacher had stepped out for a moment, and a group of students thought it would be funny to encourage Andy to say "BOOK YOU" (only he didn't say book). 

Andy is a literal show boat.  He loves attention and laughter.  He doesn't comprehend the difference between being laughed at or laughed with- which is sometimes a blessing.  Those students got a big chuckle out of watching Andy yell those words, and Andy thought he was entertaining the troops.

Kids will be kids, an email was sent to school warning them of the incident- but so far, Andy hadn't demonstrated his new found skills at home.  We had a family discussion at the dinner table about naughty words that night and I assumed it was all over.

A few nights later- Andy, myself (and apparently Kelsey) had to stop at Wal-Mart.   As usual, Andy trotted off to the toy section.  I went off to grab whatever items I needed.  I remember walking through the main aisle glancing to my right, looking for my man-child amongst rows of children and parents.  Eventually I found the boy.

Me:  Andy, come on, its time to go.

Andy:  Not yet Mom.

Me:  Come on, we have to get home.

Andy: NO- 'BOOK' YOU!!

The world around us stopped moving.  I was mortified.  All eyes darted between Andy and I.  I'm certain I turned 7 shades of red (and I'm not a blusher)! I'm almost positive this was witnessed by no less than 30 strangers...but I'm not stopping to count heads.

I took a deep breath...counted to 3, took five giant steps and grabbed him by the sleeve.

Andy: (terror is in his eyes) Mom, don't hurt me!    

Me:  (through clenched teeth)  Lets.  Go.  Now.

For a child that has difficulty interpreting facial expressions, nuances, and body language- he figured out my mood rather quickly.

Andy:  I'm sorry mom,  I'll never say 'book' again. 

I pull him towards the front of the store, looking for the shortest possible checkout line.  He is trailing behind me trying to plant his heels.  I haul him along with his sleeve in a death grip.  I was mad, but Andy was terrified.

I can't remember what exactly it was I so desperately needed from that store, but in the past, I have been known to drop everything because of a melt down, and return later when behavior has improved.  I guess that night I needed what ever I had in my hands because I marched him up to the checkout with me.

Andy is behind me, rattling on like an auctioneer, the panic is building with every word....

Andy:  I'm sorry mom, I'll never say 'book' again.  PLEASE don't tell Dad I said 'book'. 

Me:  Andy, that is enough.  We'll talk about it when we get home.

Andy:  Dad is gonna KILL ME!!  I said 'book'!  I know 'book' is a bad word.  I will never say 'book' again!!  PLEASE don't tell Dad that I said 'book'!!  PLEEEEEASE! (with praying hands and tears)

(My eyes roll to the ceiling, a voice inside my head screams): OH DEAR LORD- PLEASE MAKE HIM STOP SAYING 'BOOK'!!!!

Finally, I turn to him, intent on calming him down...unfortunately, all I see an 80 year old woman in line behind us.  Her eyes are as large as saucers, her hand is over her mouth in horror.

I got nothing.  No words will make this better.  No explanation will take the look of total repulsion off that woman's face.  I resign myself to the fact that one more person in this world will go to bed tonight believing they have witnessed the worst parenting in the world.

You know what- after 7 years- the one thing that bothers me the most about this story is that I can not remember what it was that I was so desperate to buy that night in Wal-Mart!  Not the looks of disgust from the toy aisle, or the expression of revulsion in the check out.  It drives me nuts that I didn't just walk out of that store and wait until later.

Moral of the story-  This too shall pass.  You do the best you can.  Sometimes there aren't enough words to explain it all.  I held my head high, refrained from beating him in the parking lot- and we all moved forward.  (Just 'book' em.  They haven't got a clue)

P.S. His father didn't kill him, and he's never said it since. Another gimmie from God I guess?

Loved and Lost

The question was asked after my last post...Did you get another puppy?

Yep.  Actually- we had 3 puppies.

It was early June when Molly Putzer left us suddenly.  The house was silent.  Our hearts were broken.  The kids were coping.  I was beside myself with grief.  I had not grown up with pets. I had never dealt with this kind of loss before.  She was always there, and now she was gone.

John broached the topic of a new puppy a few days after Molly was gone...

"Maybe we should look for another dog.  It would be good for the kids, maybe help them heal? I miss having someone greet me at the back door every night.  It is too quiet here!"

I looked at him in shock. 

"I thought you didn't want to another dog?  You hated midnight barking, dog dirt pick up, sitters, and fighting for a place to sit.  Besides, puppies destroy things, require tons of attention, and pee everywhere."

He put his arms around me and said "I know all that.  I just want everyone to quit crying!!"

So Kelsey and John started looking.  A few phone calls were made, and 3 days later I was driving 45 minutes North to check out a little miniature pincher they found on the internet.  We told the boys her name was going to be Sophie.  I figured this dog was going to have the name I wanted.  No one was even getting a vote this time!

 

Sophie was 8 weeks old, smaller than I expected, full if vim and vigor and all teeth.  She was smart, busy and quickly trained to potty in a litter box in the bathroom.

 

Two weeks after we brought her home we suspected she was having seizures.

 

Okay- no problem.  This isn't rare.  She bounces back within minutes.  Give her some medication, adjust the levels, move on. 

 

She didn't follow my plan.

 

Under the advice of our local vet, decided to take her 2 hours away to Madison.  The university has an awesome veterinary school and they had an opening the next morning.  Kelsey, my credit card and I took off early the next morning with Sophie dozing on my lap.

 

She had a seizure in the lobby while we waited.  I took her up to the desk and suddenly 3 nurses came out running. They took Sophie back into the clinic area.  I turned around to see my 20 year old daughter in tears. 

 

I hate feeling helpless.  I hate seeing my children cry when I am helpless- even more.

 

Her seizure had ended before they had a chance to really observe her.  Being in a teaching veterinary school has it advantages.  Very eager students and tons of people who love animals.  They especially love puppies! 

 

After a thorough exam, we were given options.  All of them costly.  We decided she would stay the night, MRI, spinal tap, blood draw, and liver biopsy.  How could we give up now?  She was so young, it might just be epilepsy, or it might my some catastrophic metabolic disorder. 

 

I came home with a credit card almost to the limit, no puppy, and no answers. 

 

We would have to wait for lab results, but they decided to treat her for epilepsy while we waited.

 

We picked her up the following afternoon and tried to carry on but Sophie never recovered.  Her seizures continued to ramp up until it looked like she was having one constant seizure.  I knew we were in trouble when the head of Veterinary Neurology called me back.  The kind hearted woman on the other end of the phone told me there was nothing more they could think to do.  Sophie was on enough seizure medication to put my husband in a coma, we had rugs, runners, blankets, and pillows everywhere.  All she wanted to do was lay in my arms and snuggle. 

 

Probable diagnosis- metabolic disorder.  Genetic and deadly.

 

We had her for just short of 2 months before she was put to sleep in my arms.  She was wrapped in the little lap blanket we had shared for last month.  I took her in alone- it was my choice and I couldn't bare to watch my family cry over her too.  I haven't been able to put her remains under the arborvitae tree she loved to play in.  She is currently resting on the mantle.

 

I'm glossing over most of the details in this story because- quite frankly- it is simply to painful.

 

After a week of deep, dark depression- John took me out to breakfast.  He pulled out my iPad, and showed me a picture of a puppy.

 

 

 

 "She's a chocolate and tan female miniature pincher.  She's in Minnesota.  The breeder will meet you halfway." he told me softly.

 

I cried, I looked at the photo, and I cried harder.  I wasn't ready.  I had lost 2 dogs in less than 2 months.  I could not do this again!  The kids were on a roller coaster of emotions- especially Michael.  He had taken all of this extremely hard. 

 

We all sat down that afternoon and talked about it.  It would be hard, but this puppy came from a reputable breeder.  We could wait- but it would be almost a year before this breeder had another litter.

 

Andy chose the name Izzy. 

 

Michael and I drove 3 hours to meet our newest member.  She was docile, gentle, meek, and tiny!  After a few weeks, I emailed the breeder thanking her for the millionth time.  In passing I mentioned that we may be contacting her in a few years about getting a second puppy from her.

 

She wrote back-

 

"I still have her brother.  He's very sweet too.  He likes to be held like a baby."

 

Oh boy...what have I done now?!

 

Being a complete chicken, and not wanting to face my husband- I sent him a text....

 

"The breeder wrote me back.  Izzy's brother is available.  :)"

(I hoped the smiley face would soften the blow)

 

I didn't get a reply.  I waited 3 hours until he came home for lunch.

(Not a good sign)

 

He walked into the back door, and said "Show me the picture."

 





 

 He knew it was a done deal. 

 

A week later Milo joined his sister.  Although they had been apart 2 months, they seemed to immediately remember each other.  They cuddled up on the blanket together 10 minutes after we got him home.  They are now inseparable!

 

We now have 'Dumb and Dumber', 'the kids', or 'the twins'.  One puppy was interesting but 2 puppies are awesome.  They fool constantly, follow me every where, have a toilet paper obsession, and are 82% potty trained. I haven't used the bathroom without 2 witnesses to cheer me on since we got them.

 

John says they are the best stress reducers ever.  He claims that Izzy is his princess, and Milo is a dirty old man.  He refuses to acknowledge that Izzy chewed up 2 pairs of his slippers- he insists that Milo forced her to do it.  (Milo didn't puke and poop leather laces for 2 days!) 

 

Its been 7 months since we started the roller coaster.  We've loved and lost, loved and lost, and loved again.  Izzy and Milo are healthy and happy and so is the family. 

 

Milo and Izzy

Christmas 2012  





Molly Putzer- the autistic dog

When we finally purchased our first home, the kids were excited about many things. Kelsey was guaranteed to attend the same middle school as all her friends, the boys would no longer need to share a bedroom, but best of all- we could have a dog!

We gradually unpacked everything and I finally felt settled in enough to start looking. John was gone off for a golf weekend that July weekend. The kids and I noticed an advertisement in the paper for an adoption event at a local pet store for the upcoming Sunday afternoon!

This was it- I felt it in my bones- we were going to find a puppy today. I shamefully admit to getting the kids all excited and riled up about the idea. How could John deny 3 little faces greeting him at the back door? That poor man walked into a hornets nest of excitement with only a slight hang over to defend himself with. (Yep- I anticipated that factor, and used it against him with all my might!)

After allowing him 20 minutes to clean up, we were off to the pet store...3 thrilled kids, one hopeful mother, and a father who didn't know what hit him!

We walked in to find crates, cages, puppies, dogs, kittens, cats and lots of people! Oh crap- I hadn't anticipated other people seeing the ad too! Panic started to take hold of my throat, but I pasted on my biggest smile and started walking.

There she was.  This sweet little 8 week old puppy named 'Matilda'.  She was timid, tiny- and in a stranger's arms!! The kids walked around looking at kittens and puppies, but I kept an eye on 'Matilda'.  If she was put down for a second, I was going to swoop in and never let her go.  After 20 excruciating minutes, I finally went over the woman (who was still holding what I was now calling 'My Matilda').

Me:  Hi!  Are you interested in adopting this puppy?

Strange lady holding MY DOG: Actually no, I'm just waiting for a friend.

(I wave over my 3 children, hung over hubby, and put on my saddest face)

Me:  Oh, we were hoping to adopt her. 

(All 3 kids faces lit up like Christmas trees, hubby starts to search for a chair, that man knows when he's been beat)

Strange lady holding MY DOG:  She is sweet isn't she?

Me: Yep, she is going to make our family very happy.  Thank you! (took puppy out of stunned woman's arms and walked away)

I can't honestly say I finished that sentence completely before I was spinning around looking for someone to fill out the paperwork to take her home. 

We were told she was from a shelter in Kentucky that had recently had a fire.  Her sister 'Moonshine' was also up for adoption.  They guessed she was a beagle/labrador mix. She was up to date on all her vaccines and we promised to have her spayed as soon as she was of age. I signed on the dotted lines and never looked back.

We bought toys, a kennel, food, dishes, baby gates, and a collar.  We went home and discussed a name.  Matilda just didn't fit her.  I wanted her to be a Sophie, Andy came up with Molly- I was quickly outvoted.

Exactly 3 hours later she started to cough.  We called my mother-in-law and had her listen on the phone...her guess was Kennel Cough.  It's Sunday night, we don't even have a vet lined up, and the only clinic open charges $200 just to get an exam started. 

We promised the kids we would bring Molly home, and took off with a puppy who was getting weaker by the minute.  The kids watched us back out of the driveway looking like we were going to Disney World without them.   

The vet confirmed it was Kennel Cough, wanted to keep her for at least the night. Oxygen, medication and monitoring was what they said she needed.  I couldn't go home empty handed.  They would never believe the puppy was still alive unless I brought her back home with us! 

We convinced the doctors that we would be able to provide round the clock care for the puppy at home and would follow up with our own vet in the morning.  John drove home, hangover almost gone, mumbling to the steering wheel:

"Get a dog, she said.  We can watch them all grow up together, she said.  It won't be a problem, she said.  You won't have to do a thing, she said.  Who's going to get a SECOND JOB TO PAY THE VET BILLS!?" 

I turned to him with tears in my eyes, lifting that sweet puppy up for him to see, and said in a meek voice:  "We're really sorry."

For the next few days she slept on my chest, in my lap, and across my shoulders.  So much for training her to sleep in a kennel!  I got up in the night to run hot steamy showers and clap my cupped hands across her little side to loosen the gunk in her lungs. She slowly recovered and never looked back.  Until the day before she passed away- she was never sick again. 

Molly was never the smallish lap dog we anticipated.  She became an 80 pound behemoth.  She tore up 1 chair, 1 footstool, 2 couches, numerous shoes, toys,and had a obsession for wet towels. She learned to sit, and shake paws- that's it.  She never figured out that the light on the carpet came from the flashlight in my hand.  She chased that spot most evenings until she dropped from exhaustion.

One day she was acting weird.  Constantly chasing her tail, running through the house, and being a general pain in the tush.  Getting frustrated, I remarked out loud- "Jeez Molly, what is wrong with you!?"

Michael looked at me and said "Nothing is wrong with her mom, she's just autistic too."

Huh, the boy might have a point.  Obsessive behavior, no communication skills, hyperactivity, lack of awareness of danger, and excessive tail flapping- maybe the boy was on to something?

She would bark at anything- stars, moon, wind, fence- it was all fair game.  If we were lucky, one of us would hear her outside and alert whomever was closest to the patio door with a simple direction- "DOG!"  That word meant- open the door, yell at Molly to be quiet, and/or trick her into coming back inside.

One time John was closest to the patio- and after grumbling quietly to himself, Andy said to him:

"Dad- her name is Molly!  Not damn dog, last dog we're ever going to have!"

She lived for just over 8 years and answered to many names.  Putzer, Molls, Baby Girl, and Land Shark.  She is buried under the maple tree in the backyard she tried to pull up as a puppy.  She left us quietly, peacefully and there will never be another one like her. She taught our family many lessons- patience, responsibility, tolerance, self control, but mostly- how to love unconditionally regardless of the quirks. 

After she passed, I commented to John that I felt bad about not realizing how sick she had become.  I wondered if we could have fought harder to save her had we known about the tumor. 

"Amy, you fought for that dog from the day we brought her home until this morning.  You fought when she was up for adoption, when she had kennel cough, when she destroyed something, and every time I grouched about her barking. She was in your arms the moment she left this Earth.  You fought for that dog every day of her life- and she knew it.  She was always 'your dog'."

I hope people say the same things about how we raised our kids.  My headstone could read:

"She fought for her kids just like she fought for her dog."

I'll have to think about that epitaph.

Bragging Rights and Butt Cheeks

My children all make me proud in their own ways.  We encourage (possibly beg and pressure) them to do their best.  We ask them to look at their work and ask themselves if they honestly tried- regardless of the outcome.  Here is one story where Michael, my youngest, managed to 'knock one out of the park'.

Last spring, Michael was selected to attend a leadership camp by the staff at his high school.  Our local rotary club asked for students who aren't normally recognized for their achievements, but deserve an opportunity to excel and tap into their 'inner leader'.  Two students from each public high school were chosen by their staff to attend this 3 day camp-compliments of the Appleton Rotary club.  Mike was interviewed after the nomination, and the paperwork was completed.  The camp opportunity was used as motivation (more like held over his head) for the next 4 months.  More than once we looked at him and said:

"Mike, the staff at North see something special in you.  They think you are a leader.  Do you really want to throw away that honor over some stupid ________?" (We had plenty of opportunities during those 4 long months.)

Finally, we sent the boy off to camp early one Friday morning.  My heart pounded all weekend.  Would he fit in?  Is he learning something about himself?  Is he having fun?  Dear God, please let him keep his temper in check!!

Michael returned on Sunday evening tired, happy and inspired.  Being a typical teenage boy, we got few initial details, but as days passed, he would share stories.  He really enjoyed himself and seemed to learn a thing or two.

In early November- the Appleton Rotary Club had a luncheon to celebrate the Rotary Youth Leadership Camp held earlier the previous month.  Each students was asked ahead of time (if they felt comfortable) to speak about their personal experience.

I had prodded Mike for weeks about writing a speech.  I told him it would be easier if he had something prepared and on paper.  I told him he owed the Rotary Club a few minutes of his day normally spent playing video games!  He balked and finally relented 5 days before the luncheon.  His original version had some great comments and statements, but it literally documented his days moment by moment.  We revamped it together on Monday afternoon (the day before the meeting), and he practiced reading it aloud Monday night.  He had a fit when we queued him to slow down and enunciate.  Monday night ended with Mike in a fury, John frustrated and me stewing silently between them.  I didn't have a lot of confidence about how the luncheon was going to go the next day. 

So on to the luncheon-

The first 5 students stepped up, introduced their parents and then briefly spoke about their experience. Most kids praised the new friends they had made and still keep in contact with. Everyone spoke off the cuff and did a great job.

I’m listening to these 5 students speak, dressed in nice clothes,and doing a fine job.  Mike is in dress pants and a tie to my left.  I won’t even look at him for fear he's is going to start whispering to me in a grouchy voice- “See Mom, you made me do all this for nothing!  I didn’t have to write a stupid 5 minute speech!! And why the hell am I in a tie?”  So- I chose not to look back at him.

Finally- Mike steps up to the podium and says in a small clear voice :

“I wrote a speech for today.” 

(I was relieved he didn't start out with "My MOM made me write a stupid speech!")

Suddenly- with the voice of a man I had never heard before...speaking with a confidence I didn't know he had in him...read his speech:

I would first like to offer my gratitude and thanks to both the Appleton Rotary Club and also to the staff at North High school who chose me for this experience of a lifetime. I wish every student could have this type of opportunity. Through the course of two and a half days I not only discovered what a leader is, but I found the leader within me.

You must understand- I am not the typical high school Senior. I have Asperger Syndrome. This form of autism gives me the benefit of normal abilities and intelligence-but I personally struggle with understanding sarcasm, anger and social issues in a typical high school atmosphere. I’m not a straight-A student, I’m not popular, I ran cross country and will do track this spring. I simply try to do the best I can every day.

When I was invited to this camp I wondered why my teachers would select me for this honor? My parents and teachers told me not to worry, that I would figure it out once I got to camp. This camp was the first time I have ever been in a safe, positive environment surrounded by kids my own age.

When I first got to Camp Manitowish, it took a little time to get use to the fact that I was on my own. After I dropped my gear in my cabin I was placed in the Zebra group. As a group, we did a little “black magic” to understand the importance of trust and following your gut and emotion. Although it took about two hours to understand the secrets of black magic, it was a fun experiment in mind reading and learning to trust your instincts.

I decided to do the discount double check right in front of the window leading to the dining hall before every meal. When we later went to the rope course to put our leadership skills into action, a girl from Spain did that discount double check move on top of the high ropes course. She didn’t know what that dance was about but she used it to celebrate her success on the course. Our group nearly set a record of milk crates stacked up high. It was great to work together as a group to (almost) achieve a record without any negativity- only encouragement from your teammates.

One of the funniest moments for me was an exercise using high school social groups. We were divided into several groups and received‘materials’ given to us by Rotarians. We did not know until later which group we were in. My group represented the Mentally Disabled. I honestly found it funny that I was randomly placed in that group because of my Asperger’s Syndrome. There was an important message taken from that exercise. We all discovered how hard it is to be part of only one social group in high school. It is better to be kind to everyone regardless of what they have or don’t have. That evening, our group had to create skits for the camp fire. We had to meet the requirements of:
 
1) Is it the truth?
2) Is it fair?
3) Will it build friendships?
4) Is it beneficial?

In our skit- all of us took clothing from a pile but one girl couldn’t get to the pile and ended up with nothing. We restarted the skit and placed all the clothes back on the pile. As the clothing was handed out the second time, the girl would ask for an item of clothing and it was given to her. In the end there was enough clothing to keep everyone warm. All of the campers had to determine if each skit met the ‘Rotary 4 Way test’.

Our final team Zebra project was to make a tea out of materials in nature. We decided to make a bubblegum tea. I’m not saying it tasted good- but I will say that after the cold weather and snow- the fire we had to build felt really good on our frozen hands! As the weekend drew to a close, I was dreading the farewells I would have to say. I reminded myself that there is never a final goodbye, only new beginnings. This camp helped me see that if you surround yourself with positive people, you will be positive too.

This experience was something I will cherish for the rest of my life. If you ask me now about what makes a true leader I would say:” A true leader is one who endures.” Leadership doesn’t from come leading people but by standing right next to them and telling them "I am here to help you." They are people who care about the others around them before themselves. I hope I can be one of those leaders.

Thank you to both the Rotary Club and the staff at North for helping me discover the flame within me. As I face my future, I will ask myself- Is it the truth? Is it fair? Will it build friendships? and Is it beneficial to everyone? These are great questions to live by.

Thank you

Okay- so by the second paragraph-I am in serious butt cheek clenching mode.  I learned this trick a few years ago from a dear friend...clench your butt cheeks so you don't cry- and it seriously works!! 

Still-I have a tear falling down my cheek that thankfully is away from the crowded room.  I’m certain my water proof mascara has failed.  I fear I am being a overly emotional mother until I glance across the room and see women wiping their eyes, and men swallowing pretty hard.  I know my husband is trying to maintain his manly composure, but I'm certain he's close to loosing it too.

After Mike was finished, the lady who had introduced each student could barely speak as she closed the presentation.  The president of the Rotary spoke last, looked at Michael and simply said with a choked voice “Michael, you ARE a leader!”

As the crowd rose to leave, we were basically surrounded by well wishers, hand shakes, kind words and big smiles with teary eyes.  This is a moment of a lifetime for me.  My youngest child had prepared a speech (although it took a bit of fighting), stood in front of a crowd, spoke clearly and straight from his heart. 

He did far more in 5 minutes that I had ever hoped for.  I just wanted him to speak like he didn't have a mouth full of marbles, express his gratitude to a wonderful community club, and share his profound experience with them. 

Even now- 2 months later- I tear up as I write this blog.  He could go on to be President of the United States, but I would be prouder of who he is right now- at this moment in time. 
 

Moral of the story?  Never... never ever, underestimate what your child can accomplish!  I once prayed this boy would be able to use words over sign language (or fists).  Speak calmly rather than scream (or swear).  I once hesitated to take him in public for fear of melt downs, but have seen him speak to a room full of strangers- and touch their hearts.   He didn't accomplish these things alone, it truly took hundreds of people to raise this boy (man).  I can't begin to name all the adults (and even some patient children) who have guided him through the years.  Every child has unknown abilities within them.  It is our jobs as adults to help them tap into those possibilities- what ever they might be. 

I hope that someday Michael will be a public speaker in some capacity...in some form...even if he only does it one more time before I die.  I want him make me clench my butt cheeks like he did at that luncheon. 

My deepest thanks to the staff at North High School and the Appleton Rotary Club for showing me parts of my child I didn't know where even in there. 

Oops!!

"I make mistakes- in fact- I make lots of mistakes."

There I said it. I'm sure I don't say it often enough to appease my family- but I feel obligated to confess to you all out there in 'reader land'.

My first mistake was avoided on December 23rd.  I had forgotten that I volunteered to bring the ham for Christmas Eve dinner.  John's parents came over for the weekly breakfast from Hardee's on Sunday morning.  When Grandma asked me if I had thawed the ham yet, a light bulb went off in mind!  I thought I had masked my expression- but John called my bluff later in the morning as I flew down to the freezer to pull out the ham.  "You forgot, didn't you?  I saw your eyes shoot open when Mom asked you about the ham." 

I looked that man square in the eyes and said in my most convincing tone- "Absolutely NOT!"

He didn't buy it- but he left it well enough alone- I've trained him well!

I was lucky this time- a few years ago we arrived at the family super bowl party without the casserole I had promised to make a month earlier.  I was so ashamed when the Aunts had to run to the Piggly Wiggly to pick up hot beef and turkey to replace my missing Party Chicken casserole.  They said it was alright- but I knew I was in the doghouse when they refused to let me ride along and at least buy the meat and buns.  I'm sure my name was tossed around angrily during that car ride!

My biggest oops occurred on Monday, December 24th. 

Now in my defense- I had already started 3 separate appetizers and dishes before 6 am- I had been busy and it was early in the morning! I started the coffee pot and noticed that the pill boxes were empty but neither boy was awake yet.  Mike's box is blue, Andy's box is white. They both take completely different medicines- various shapes, colors and numbers.

I assumed victory because for once I wasn't going to hear "Moooooooooom, my pill box is empty!" I counted out the pills, tablets, and caplets for the week.  Blue box, then white box.

The kids woke, showered, dressed, ate breakfast and then headed over to Grandma and Grandpa's to help them prepare for the company they were expecting.  We had a few spats before they left me. 

Mike was mad because Andy took to long in the shower (Helloooooo, he always does that!).  Andy was miffed when I suggested his Mountain Dew t-shirt wasn't dressy enough for the holidays (Jeez Mom, its green!)- etc, etc.

As I did the dishes and cleared the counters, I checked the pill boxes. Both had taken their pills with breakfast- victory!!!  But then it hit me....

Mike's pill were in the wrong box- oh crap- Andy's pills are in the wrong box- double crap! 

I had swapped the pill boxes!  "Oh crap, oh crap, oh crap!!" (but I didn't really say crap)" Silent prayer quickly ensued...

Dear God,

Hi, it's me- Amy.  Once again, I'm trying to lose my mother of the year title...

Anyways, I want to thank you for the gimme with the puppies.  I don't know which one actually has worms since they both like to poop in the hallway- but I appreciate the fact that you let me see the worm in the poop before the vet bills piled up. 

That said, if I could be so bold- I mixed up the boys pills.  I'm not planning to tell anyone- just in case there isn't any problems. No sense yelling fire in a crowded room if its only a lit candle- right?  If you could find it in your heart to make tonight go smoothly- I'll try not to take your name in vain for a while.  I mean- well- you know what goes on here during the holidays!  Its chaotic enough for the boys without this kind of snafu.  So if you could make this right, I'd be grateful.

Amen

A few hours later, John and I went over to his parents house.  I assumed all was well because they live just around the corner.  No one called, no one came stomping home in a huff.  Surely my Christmas miracle had been granted.

We walk in to find Mike losing at cribbage. He's grouchy, but maintaining his cool.  Grandpa, Kelsey and Grandma are taking his attitude in stride.  Everyone assumes it just the stress of the holidays playing out in Michael.

Suddenly, Andy comes flying out of the bedroom:

"MomDadtheScoobyDooshowison. Ijustlovethatshow. Itistheonewiththemarketingmayhemandtheevilvilianis........"

Although Andy is in good spirits, someone appears to have hit his fast forward button!!  After assessing the situation, I determine that things are going well in spite of my 6am error.  It could be so much worse!

Kelsey, ever attuned to her brothers, asked me if I noticed how the boys were acting differently.  I looked her square in the eye and said "I don't see anything different".  She isn't as well trained as her father.  She called my bluff and eventually I had to confess that I had swapped the pill boxes.  She immediately defended me by asking the obviously question....

"How the heck did they NOT notice the different pills in their box? Are they blind?!!"

I had been so busy feeling guilty that I forgot that it wasn't completely my fault after all!  These boys have been taking the exact same pills for 5+ years now.  Seriously?  You have to either be blind or a Pavlovian dog not to have noticed!

The evening continued with some bumps, but no bruises.  Their incorrect medications slowly wore off. Gifts were exchanged with the grandparents that immediately soothed their souls.  We went home early and plopped into our rooms and chairs.  Disaster averted and I hadn't taken the Lord's name in vain- not once!

Andy had the deciding vote to open presents that Christmas eve or Christmas morning. We were unwrapping gifts by 5:30am Christmas morning.  Boys had the correct meds in them before their eyes were completely open.  The rest of the holidays continued without incident. 

Happy New Year everyone.  I hope this next year finds you healthy, happy and loved.