Slow down

Kip's been sick all day and, consequently, has been exceptionally cuddly, to the point of not letting me put him down. You know, I love cuddles as much as the next person, and I know I won't be able to hold him all day this way for much longer, but wow, was today ever tiring. My back aches, my arms hurt, and I haven't been able to do much of anything but hold him. Yet somehow I can't bring myself to feel all that bad about such a slow, calm day. My baby won't be a baby all that much longer (if he even qualifies now).

Colombidae

On my list of things to do today:
Laundry
Play group
Feed the missionaries
Normal stuff (taking Sylvia to school, cleaning, etc.)

Not on my list of things to do today:
Create a bird habitat/aviary for bird rescue

I took Sylvia to school, then came back and picked up Paul, Kip, and Derrick. Ran Derrick to the bus station and took Paul and Kip to playgroup. Paul and Kip had fun, but at around 11:15 Kip fell asleep nursing and, when I pulled him off, he started coughing so enthusiastically he vomited. Yeah.

Stopped at the store on the way home. Bought chippies for Paul and Vegemite chocolate for me (I had to try it once).

On the way home I thought through the rest of the day and realized I had barely enough time to get things going for dinner at 6. Fed Paul and myself quickly and started meat for tacos al pastor (the meat has to marinate 4 hours at least). Kip wasn't cooperative so I fed him while chatting with my sister in Utah until Kip was asleep. Paul brought in the Vegemite chocolate while I was on the phone and insisted he wanted to try it. He wasn't impressed. I think it tastes a bit like chocolate with molasses, which isn't all that bad, though there are definitely other flavors I like better.

Finally got Kip to sleep. Started a load of laundry and went back to the taco meat. Got the marinade together just as Kip woke up. Grr. Not a fan of micro naps. Cut the meat while Kip was crying and dumped it all together. Realized it was time to pick up Sylvia. Pulled out the other load of laundry and started a new one while also getting kids ready to go. Unsurprisingly I was late.

Picked up Sylvia, drove home, gave kids a snack (perhaps more honestly, let kids pull ice blocks out of the freezer for snack) and sent them outside to eat it while I put up laundry.

Putting up Laundry when I heard something smack against the window of Sylvia's room.

"Sylvia, what is a bird doing inside your room?"

Ran inside.

"Sylvia, what is a bird doing inside your dresser drawer, and why are you trying to hide it from me?"

Much sadness as I carried it outside to release it.

Doves aren't the smartest of birds. This one, probably terribly traumatized, was happy to sit in my hands while I carried it around the yard trailing my hysterical kids. Bird finally flew away from me--right back into the shade house.

Rolled my eyes at the stupidity of birds and went back to folding laundry.

A few minutes later realized Sylvia was stalking the bird again, despite my insistence she leave it alone.

"Sylvia, where is the bird's tail?"

"A cat got it."

Noticed Paul clutching a fistful of feathers.

"A cat named Paul?"

Went inside to find out about wild animal rescue. Called the RSPCA but got a recording I couldn't spare the attention for. Called a friend, who suggested the best option might be to drop the bird across a neighbor's fence and hope for the best.

When I went back outside the kids had constructed a 'trap' for the bird 'to protect it' using pieces of scrap wood. Convinced them to come inside and help me make a temporary aviary out of their castle tent. By the time we went back outside the bird had escaped/been carried off (I hope the former). Kids will look for the bird tomorrow to see if it returns.

All that and already 4:45. Dinner at 6 and my house still a mess and nothing cooked. Cleaned up in record time, made tortillas and guac, Derrick came home (seriously, my hero tonight) and cooked the meat for dinner. Managed to feed the missionaries before they had to leave for their next appointment, but only barely. Sent kids to bed with songs and watched a couple of episodes of Castle while holding a mildly feverish Kip against my chest. 

Blown out

We met up with some friends for lunch at a park today and I took my camera. It's been a while since I've taken any pictures (and even longer since I've posted--sorry) and I can tell I'm out of practice because I had a very hard time remembering to check my settings. Still managed a few nice images with some copious editing

(The last image is Derrick swinging Kip by his coveralls. We know how to have 'round here)

Sunday, 17 May

Breakfast--potatoes with onions and bacon, well-seasoned but not crispy.

Talked with Derrick's parents, mostly about kids, inconsequential things. Philip's kids keep getting lice from the foster kids' siblings. Carolyn has a new kitchen with glass-fronted cabinets that go to the ceiling. Roger is looking at a BMW convertible.

Hung laundry while kids played and Derrick worked on the yard. He's emptied one of the beds of rock, exposing the dirt and plant roots underneath. Took out one big root, he's guessing from the neighbor's walnut tree. We'll need to add soil or something.

Pulled out the bread and crackers kids dumped in the pond during the party last weekend. Most of it was growing and disintigrated at my touch. Really should have taken care of it earlier. After the grossness of touching cold, slimyness I took a shower, took Kip with me.

While I was in the shower Sylivia and Paul made orange/lemon/apple drink. Said it was good (I don't believe them). I shooed them outside and hung up another load of laundry. Kip is the favorite toy. Paul took Kip on a ride in the garden cart over the pile of rock and dirt Derrick pulled from the garden bed. It looked like the cart was about to overturn as he pulled it across and I freaked, screeching and running toward him. Nothing overturned.

Kip fell asleep as I was putting lunch together for the other kids. Sylvia and Paul were remarkably dirty (mud does that) so they showered before lunch, then tried to eat naked, huddled in their towels on the kitchen floor. Lunch--pizza rolls (Derrick and me) and cheese-bacon rolls (Sylvia and Paul).

Neighbor (Harry) came over as we were eating. I heated up some soup (celery and onion with horseradish). Talked about church, Mormonism, Utah.
Kip woke up and I took the kids to church.

Classes were already going (something like 2:15 or 2:20 when we arrived) so I slipped everyone in and went to class myself.

Sunday school talked about the Prodigal son. Someone asked if God subjected the whole land to a famine to change the heart of that one person. If that were true that would make God a serious jerk.

Feeling self-conscious since teaching last week. I felt like what I presented was the right thing up until the moment I started reading a blog post/essay (obviously uncorrelated), at which moment it was like an alarm went off saying, "wrong, wrong, wrong!" Definitely felt the anger of the piece more while reading it out loud, which might be the issue. Ever since I've felt guilty, uncomfortable, like I've committed a terrible sin of which I need to repent despite the fact that many people thanked me for the lesson, described it as powerful and profound. Fully recognize it might just be revenge of the teen-age angst I feel any time I do something that brings attention to me.

Relief society felt like an oblique refutation of everything I taught. Sis V talked about needing deep tap roots, about intellectual or social conversion alone being insufficient. Railed against education (my fave), about needing spirit of discernment to challenge teachings that sounded good on the surface but were subtly wrong.

Some people don't like being challenged. Some people equate discomfort with evil. (I know I sometimes do)

Stopped at the chemist on the way home to pick up my bc prescription that I forgot to get yesterday. Told the kids if they stayed with me we'd go to Cole's and get a treat. Sylvia did a great job (Kip too, of course) but Paul disappeared. Turned out he went to Cole's on his own and picked up a wedge of watermelon as his treat. I chewed him out but we still picked up candy. Didn't give any to Paul, though, because he hadn't stayed with me. Conversation on the way home he kept asking why he handn't listened. I told him it was a learning thing, but probably should have asked him to answer the question himself. Next time.

Derrick had a fire waiting for us when we got home. Roasted marshamallows with the kids while I worked on dinner (curried cauliflower soup for adults, mashed potatoes for kids).

Sylvia tried to juggle fire. Serious chewing out for that one and banishment to the house.

Paul was so tired at the end of dinner he couldn't finish eating and so again didn't get any candy. Poor kid. Sylvia got a couple of mento's but left the table so I ate them. Gave her one back when I realized she'd successfully gone to the toilet on her own (yipee!)

Bedtime for kids, Derrick read, I sang. Kip fell asleep shortly after the older two and I held him on the couch while reading "The Alchemist." Derrick watched a couple of episodes of "Castle" (one of the shows that makes him/us look like Republicans if you only know our TV viewing habits) then looked for flights for my trip to the US for the writing excuses cruise.

Toothier grin

The end of last week was pretty brutal. Kip was up at 5:30 or 5:45 every morning and I, jealous of every minute of free time, stayed up until at least 11 pretty much every night. Not a good combo. I'm, shall we say, irritable. Not so good with small children.

Kip should start sleeping better soon, though. On Saturday I noticed he has two new teeth popping out. Teething doesn't bother Kip overmuch, but it does make him sleep quite a bit less.