Rhymes with Mice

Last Thursday night as this child stepped out of the bath I discovered that she had lice.  At first I freaked.  Matt ran to the store and got several different kits all promising the best results.  This is one of those things you swear will never happen to you.  My kids are bathed everyday, every article of clothing they touch is washed.  Yuck!  My skin crawls just thinking about it.

Thanks to great advice from neighbors and friends this is what we learned;

• Karissa has an abundance of hair
• RID doesn't work
• LiceMD does
• Olive oil works
• You still have to use the metal comb and remove everything you see... and don't see
• All bedding, couches, cars, pillows, jackets, towels - must be washed and washed till there are no lice for at least 7 days.  (26 loads of laundry and 48 hours of my washer and dryer running non-stop. Advice - sack it all up and take it to the laundry mat.)
• Brushes have to soaked in scalding water after every use
• I would never wish this on anyone
• If it happens to you, I will help
• Karissa's classmates were very mean today and all made comments about her having lice.  One child even said, "My Mom told me to stay away from you."  So disappointing.

So long lice, please never, ever come back.



Torn

(I'm back-tracking to December 14.  In the upcoming days I'll post Christmas and New Years) 

The final night of A four day global sales summit in Whistler, BC, was finished off in style. Our team dined at the famed Rim Rock Cafe on such delicacies as, ahi tar tar, steal head, fresh salmon, and their world famous Sticky toffee pudding.

Outside, the snow fell swiftly on the pacific pines whose branches already heavy laden with snowfall.
As the night wore on I found myself missing the bonds that had been made between colleagues - now friends. The week was spent tackling problems, sharing big ass ideas and focusing on how to take our train journey to a higher gear. Tomorrow we'd all head home.  No more 5 star dining, no more maid service, turn downs or chilled bottled water at my bedside.

Only reality.

My reality.

Three eager kids who'd been anxious and aching for their mother. A husband overwhelmed with responsibility. A sister who'd taken time away from her job to be mom - for me.

Feeling completely torn a cried to Matt over the phone for nearly an hour.

Several questions overtook me.

How do I fulfill my number one role as wife and mother yet succeed supporting my family in my working role?

Is this possible?

By working more hours and asking for advancement would it be fair to force my children to pay the price?

For them this would mean longer hours at school. The possibility of putting their talent focused activities on hold. And just plain mom not around as much.

The sticky problem is that I have to work. Our family cannot survive without me working. Which poses the question- How can I effectively earn money in a fulfilling role and be available to my children?

As I walked in my door nearly 12 hours after leaving Whistler the heaviness of my responsibilities was crushing.

The worlds expectations of me feel endless. My expectations of myself are far more lengthy and complicated.

How can I ever fulfill all that is expected of me?

I feel completely torn and pulled in a thousand different directions.

Birthday Eve

On the eve of my birth I'm soaking in a hot tub doing a blog post. (Praying I don't drop my phone to a watery death.)

December was very hard. With Matt and I both away on business trips. Then a mad dash to Christmas. Grandpa's fall and recovery. That pretty much took every moment of my time.

Yesterday while driving home from dropping Karissa at dance it occurred to me my kids hadn't said anything funny in a while. I kept driving and made a mental note to be sure to write down the funny things they say.

We got home and Addi and I cleaned the rabbit cages and took out trash cans. I started pulling out all the ingredients for meatloaf. Addi scrambled up on the counter and begged to help. There's something about the combination of raw meat, eggs and children that just sends my blood pressure soaring. (E-coli)

We went round and round. Me saying no and Addi begging. She then cocked her head to the side wagged her finger and said, "Be a good mother and let me help."

Huh? I laughed, caved and gave her several stern warnings about only touching meat and nothing else. She sang with glee.

Later that evening I made Addi some hot chocolate. She sipped it like a princess. Feeling oh so grown up. Andrew came running and sputtering, "Pees, pees".
Addi agreed to one sip but with a warning, "Not too much Andrew. You don't wanna get a brain hot."

I laughed and begged for her for a brain hot.

As I reflected on my afternoon and my promise to myself to write things down, I realized it wasn't that my kids took time off from saying funny things, I was simply too busy to listen.

Right now-
Karissa is reading up a storm. She's currently reading Superfudge by Judy Bloom.

Addi is loving the social aspect of pre-k.

Andrew is learning new words every day. He loves all dogs (goggy), trains (Woo Woo) and trash trucks.

The Old Cowboy

Spring 2012

I was born on a cattle-ranch in eastern Arizona.  I am the 12th of 14 children.  I started herding cattle at 6 years old.  (He tells everyone he meets.) 


On Christmas Eve, Beth called to say that Grandpa had fallen at Chad's in-laws.  He was coming into the kitchen from the TV room and tripped over a small step.  Grandpa separated his shoulder and Chad was with him in the ER.  Despite his 91 years, Grandpa is pretty strong and his muscles were too tense to immediately pop the shoulder back in.  Chad would stay with Grandpa through the night and until he was put under anesthesia to put the shoulder in place.  My heart sank, yet I knew he was in good hands.

In the morning Chad informed the procedure was a success and Grandpa was in recovery.  Matt and I watched our kids open their gifts.  Then I left Matt with the kids and went to the hospital to relieve Chad.  What a fine Christmas.  We'd missed another Kinnon family gathering. 

I sat while Grandpa thrashed about trying to sleep while other were families in and out of rooms wishing all a Merry Christmas.  I felt guilty for taking up the nurses and doctors time and for keeping them from spending Christmas day with their families.  Grandpa drifted in and out of a sleep, thrashing, yelling out and trying to deal with the excruciating pain of his shoulder.

At 5:30pm Chad and I traded places.  The Dr. came in to check on Grandpa and ordered him off all heavy pain killers.  He was concerned with Grandpa sleeping too much and wanted him awake and agitated. 
"Oh, lovely" was all I could muster.  I left Chad to go home and feed and bathe my kids.  Our Christmas dinner consisted of bruschetta, cranberry covered goat cheese and crackers and salami and cheese. 
(The appetizers we planned to take to Aunt Debbie's.)

About 8:00pm I went back to relieve Chad and get the latest news.  Grandpa had been up and took a few walks, he'd eaten all his dinner and was resting in a chair when I returned.  I sat and watched Grandpa sound asleep till about 9:15pm.  A nurse came in and reinserted his IV which he'd ripped out during the day.  Also to reattach the heart monitor he kept pulling off.  She gave him to mild meds and he asked to go to bed.  The nurse and I got him on his feet and over to the bed.  Worked together to get him in bed and laying down, Grandpa screamed in pain and kept yelling for me.  I was right there and was completely helpless in taking away the pain.  I'd never heard my Grandpa in pain, he's and old cowboy, he was a tank commander in WWII, he could withstand anything but not this.  It was heart wrenching.  The nurse and I shimmied him around till he settled down and was comfortable.  Covered him with several blankets and he fell immediately to sleep.  I sat with him till 10:30pm just to be sure he'd stay asleep.

I didn't sleep much that night.  Thinking of all the strongest man I knew in a state of weakness. 
Something I had never seen.

The next day Linnae watched my kids so I could spend the day with Grandpa.  I enlisted the help of my SIL, Beth.  We collected all the info needed and busted Grandpa out of the hospital.  It was an all day process.  We didn't leave his house that night after the night nurse arrived till after 8pm.  He was home and we thought that with him home he'd become less confused and feel better in his element.

Six days later and a 24 hr caregiver later  - he's still quite confused.  I took him to a 3:00pm Dr appt today that lasted 3 hours.  Still trying to get him on the correct meds.  (Oh because he's supposed to have been on a few meds that he just decided he doesn't want to take.)  He was informed by his Dr. that it is no longer safe for him to drive.  As you can imagine that did not go over well.

On the drive home he said he feels useless and he can't do any good for anyone without a car.  It wasn't like a child throwing a tantrum, it was total defeat.

After all this, the crazy thing is that he doesn't want to appear weak.  Not sure if its Alpha male syndrome or the cowboy inside that wants to be strong.  The hardest thing has been seeing him slow down physically and mentally.