“Baby, turn the light off in the bathroom,” I said, as I was gearing down to start Bible time.
“Mommy, I can’t reach it. I have to get bigger,” she replied, in her cute little voice with a wistful look on her face.
I just started laughing. My baby wistfully thinking about the day when she will be tall enough to turn off the bathroom light.
“Mommy, are you laughing at the baby?” Rowan inquired.
“Yes.”
“Why?”
“Because she’s funny. You’re funny. And your brother’s funny,” I answered, still laughing.
“When Rowan was three she could turn off the bathroom light,” Jory announced.
And now the reminiscing on the past begins. Of what everyone could do when they were those faraway ages of three and four. Who knew kids liked doing this?
Friday, October 28, 2011
My response to a how's homeschooling going question
Thanks for asking. I can't believe it's been a month already. What I'm amazed at is how much they don't know? Why aren't they born knowing how to count by 2s or knowing how to round up or down?
We're still trying to find a workable rhythm. This week, I'm going to try and swap some stuff around. Must six-year-olds be so wiggly and giggly and making weird noises when they are being taught?
My biggest challenge has been the weekends, particularly Sundays. Sunday is the night we start latest. I think trying to pack it all in: the errands, the ironing, the cooking for the week, swimming lessons, play dates; is a lot. And everything that doesn't get done on Saturday spills into Sunday, after church, which just makes Sundays insane. I even did a no church Sunday and that didn't help.
So I need to really work on the weekends. Maybe make a list on Fridays of what I want to accomplish on the weekends and if it's not on the list, it just doesn't get done.
Other than this are Sunday through Thursday schedule works well. I'm thinking outside of the school box. The world won't end if I read all the week's poems on one day to make time for math.
We were sailing through math, oh the joys of review, and then hit a brick wall at full speed. I realized we had hit new material. So we're still recovering from that. I was under the delusion that Jory was a math genius and for the rest of the year, we'd continue to watch the math DVD once on Sunday, then again on Monday, and he would just sail through it. I was sadly mistaken.
I thought we would do some reading in the car to and from daycare, but not really. The problem is two fold. On some days in our Odyssey, he will take on the persona of his former preemie baby sister, you had to practically be on top of her to hear her cry, and the same with Jory's reading. He was sitting in his sister's carseat directly behind me and I still can't hear what he's reading; which is odd because I hear him so clearly and loudly when he is scareing his sisters, declaring he's a monster, or telling them to leave his lego airplane alone. And the other problem is his Sonlight reading book is very rhymey, very, so it's hard for me to detect when he's skipping words - - Pat, the fat rat, sat on a hat on a mat - - because I'm too busy trying to hear through the rhyming to hear if the sentence makes sense.
I do recognize when we're on overload, so now art, health, and science have been regulated to the summer time. I couldn't take on any more reading or explaining time in our already busy night. Though thanks to the Godsend of education.com, I am printing out worksheets that have to do with science and art. I found one worksheet that combines language art and art. I LOVE IT! We found some great safety videos at the library that Jory and his sisters think are fun, so it's great to know he's learning something for health and he enjoys immensely.
So sadly sometimes his reading aloud is neglected some nights. I thought about having him read while I do dishes, but I use that time to have clean his room or get his stuff ready for the next day, or for bath time. I have found some books free on-line that aren't so rhymey that I will try to have him read to me in the car.
That's how we're doing,
We're still trying to find a workable rhythm. This week, I'm going to try and swap some stuff around. Must six-year-olds be so wiggly and giggly and making weird noises when they are being taught?
My biggest challenge has been the weekends, particularly Sundays. Sunday is the night we start latest. I think trying to pack it all in: the errands, the ironing, the cooking for the week, swimming lessons, play dates; is a lot. And everything that doesn't get done on Saturday spills into Sunday, after church, which just makes Sundays insane. I even did a no church Sunday and that didn't help.
So I need to really work on the weekends. Maybe make a list on Fridays of what I want to accomplish on the weekends and if it's not on the list, it just doesn't get done.
Other than this are Sunday through Thursday schedule works well. I'm thinking outside of the school box. The world won't end if I read all the week's poems on one day to make time for math.
We were sailing through math, oh the joys of review, and then hit a brick wall at full speed. I realized we had hit new material. So we're still recovering from that. I was under the delusion that Jory was a math genius and for the rest of the year, we'd continue to watch the math DVD once on Sunday, then again on Monday, and he would just sail through it. I was sadly mistaken.
I thought we would do some reading in the car to and from daycare, but not really. The problem is two fold. On some days in our Odyssey, he will take on the persona of his former preemie baby sister, you had to practically be on top of her to hear her cry, and the same with Jory's reading. He was sitting in his sister's carseat directly behind me and I still can't hear what he's reading; which is odd because I hear him so clearly and loudly when he is scareing his sisters, declaring he's a monster, or telling them to leave his lego airplane alone. And the other problem is his Sonlight reading book is very rhymey, very, so it's hard for me to detect when he's skipping words - - Pat, the fat rat, sat on a hat on a mat - - because I'm too busy trying to hear through the rhyming to hear if the sentence makes sense.
I do recognize when we're on overload, so now art, health, and science have been regulated to the summer time. I couldn't take on any more reading or explaining time in our already busy night. Though thanks to the Godsend of education.com, I am printing out worksheets that have to do with science and art. I found one worksheet that combines language art and art. I LOVE IT! We found some great safety videos at the library that Jory and his sisters think are fun, so it's great to know he's learning something for health and he enjoys immensely.
So sadly sometimes his reading aloud is neglected some nights. I thought about having him read while I do dishes, but I use that time to have clean his room or get his stuff ready for the next day, or for bath time. I have found some books free on-line that aren't so rhymey that I will try to have him read to me in the car.
That's how we're doing,
Some days…
We were on the bed getting ready for Bible time when the baby laid her head into my lap. I pulled her up further on my lap, then laid back and started tickling her. She giggled and tried to escape. Then next thing I knew, Rowan was throwing herself down next to me. For a second, I thought, I need to stop this so we can stay on schedule, but I looked at my watch and thought what would it hurt to have five minutes of tickle time. So I went for it.
Rowan was on top of me. Jory was on top of me. They were on the side of me. They’d escape move to the head of the bed to enter the fray again. Occasionally the baby would cry out, “Mommy, let me go! Mommy stop!” I’d stop for a moment, then continued on with the tickling.
Some days schedules need to be put aside and tickling need to reign for a moment.
Rowan was on top of me. Jory was on top of me. They were on the side of me. They’d escape move to the head of the bed to enter the fray again. Occasionally the baby would cry out, “Mommy, let me go! Mommy stop!” I’d stop for a moment, then continued on with the tickling.
Some days schedules need to be put aside and tickling need to reign for a moment.
One day, some day, Monday?
I called the IRS on today with my fourth H & R Block tax advisor (H & R Block is a complete nightmare, but that's another story for another day) and I was told they didn't need any other paperwork from me. There were no red flags on my returns. The return was just in a holding pattern.
He couldn't tell us what the hold up was, he said he didn't see anything in the notes. He said, he knew sometimes it took a while to get the refund. I reminded him that I sent in my tax returns in April. I left it unsaid that it was nearing the end of October. He told me that the adoption tax credit, the homeowner credit, and other like credits were considered "special projects" handled out of their Memphis office. He told me if I did receive anymore letters to send them directly to Memphis, then he gave us the 800 number for the Memphis office, which of course was closed because they're on East Coast.
He couldn't even give an ETA on when I might get my money. Seemingly he knew nothing except I didn't owe the IRS anything and that I should get my money, maybe, one day.
He couldn't tell us what the hold up was, he said he didn't see anything in the notes. He said, he knew sometimes it took a while to get the refund. I reminded him that I sent in my tax returns in April. I left it unsaid that it was nearing the end of October. He told me that the adoption tax credit, the homeowner credit, and other like credits were considered "special projects" handled out of their Memphis office. He told me if I did receive anymore letters to send them directly to Memphis, then he gave us the 800 number for the Memphis office, which of course was closed because they're on East Coast.
He couldn't even give an ETA on when I might get my money. Seemingly he knew nothing except I didn't owe the IRS anything and that I should get my money, maybe, one day.
Monday, October 24, 2011
Questions in the car
“My daddy is in heaven two times,” the baby declared in the car driving home from church in the OC.
“You mean God? Your Heavenly Father is in heaven,” I responded to her declaration. Does she mean Jesus? He came from heaven, then ascended back up into heaven, did she mean that?
“My daddy is in heaven two times,” she repeated.
“Mommy, who is the baby’s father?” Jory inquired.
“I don’t know who the baby’s birth father is,” I answered him succinctly.
“Whose tummy was the baby in?” he asked.
“Her birth mother’s.”
“What was her birth mother’s name?”
“I don’t know,” I said, shrugging my shoulders.
“What was my birth mother’s name?”
I told him his birth mother’s name.
“What was I like as a baby?”
And then I told him the story of how my five-day-old baby came home.
“You mean God? Your Heavenly Father is in heaven,” I responded to her declaration. Does she mean Jesus? He came from heaven, then ascended back up into heaven, did she mean that?
“My daddy is in heaven two times,” she repeated.
“Mommy, who is the baby’s father?” Jory inquired.
“I don’t know who the baby’s birth father is,” I answered him succinctly.
“Whose tummy was the baby in?” he asked.
“Her birth mother’s.”
“What was her birth mother’s name?”
“I don’t know,” I said, shrugging my shoulders.
“What was my birth mother’s name?”
I told him his birth mother’s name.
“What was I like as a baby?”
And then I told him the story of how my five-day-old baby came home.
Leaping
Last week, Mr. Will had the girls jump into the pool for the first time. Rowan was nervous. She moved to the very edge of the pool, squatted down, then with Mr. Will’s open arms awaiting took a leap of faith and jumped. She didn’t make it to his arms, but that was part of the lesson. Then she came up, sputtering, looking for his arms, for him. He helped out and said, “Rowan, stand up. You can stand up.”
Yep, Rowan can stand up in the shallow end of the pool. So he had her do it again. She jumped and for a second or two, she forgot she could stand up, until Mr. Will reminded her. After the third try, she was having the time of her life. She jumped, emerged from underneath the water, and stood up on her own two feet. My big girl! She liked it so much, she did it ten more times before Mr. Will cut her off the baby needed to take her turn.
Rowan reminded me of myself. Afraid to take that leap, not trusting that God is there, He’s got my back and loved me enough to create me in His Own image. So why do I doubt? Why don’t I have the courage to jump when He says jump? And when I do, when I finally do, I find out and am reminded that He was there with me the whole time, His rod and staff protecting me, and that it wasn’t scary at all and sometimes it’s actually fun.
Yep, Rowan can stand up in the shallow end of the pool. So he had her do it again. She jumped and for a second or two, she forgot she could stand up, until Mr. Will reminded her. After the third try, she was having the time of her life. She jumped, emerged from underneath the water, and stood up on her own two feet. My big girl! She liked it so much, she did it ten more times before Mr. Will cut her off the baby needed to take her turn.
Rowan reminded me of myself. Afraid to take that leap, not trusting that God is there, He’s got my back and loved me enough to create me in His Own image. So why do I doubt? Why don’t I have the courage to jump when He says jump? And when I do, when I finally do, I find out and am reminded that He was there with me the whole time, His rod and staff protecting me, and that it wasn’t scary at all and sometimes it’s actually fun.
Growing Older
“Mommy, can I have the house when I’m older?” Jory asked.
“You have to share it with your sisters,” I informed him.
“I can have Oma’s room and the girls can have their room and your room,” he continued.
Wow, he’s really making plans for the future, minus any spouses or children. Just him and his sister living together in the house they grew up in.
A few days later…
“Mommy, when I get the house- - ”
“You mean when you and your sisters get the house?”
“Yes, when me and the girls get the house. We’re going to have a dog and cats,” he announced.
“You’re each going to have a dog and cats?” I asked to clarify his statement.
“No, I’m going to have a dog and the girls will each have a cat,” he answered.
Oma better be dead with all these animals in the house. And where am I exactly in this future? Maybe George and I are off a worldwide cruise.
“You have to share it with your sisters,” I informed him.
“I can have Oma’s room and the girls can have their room and your room,” he continued.
Wow, he’s really making plans for the future, minus any spouses or children. Just him and his sister living together in the house they grew up in.
A few days later…
“Mommy, when I get the house- - ”
“You mean when you and your sisters get the house?”
“Yes, when me and the girls get the house. We’re going to have a dog and cats,” he announced.
“You’re each going to have a dog and cats?” I asked to clarify his statement.
“No, I’m going to have a dog and the girls will each have a cat,” he answered.
Oma better be dead with all these animals in the house. And where am I exactly in this future? Maybe George and I are off a worldwide cruise.
Thursday, October 20, 2011
Eureka!
It hit me this morning what’s wrong. For the past few weeks, maybe even few months, I felt tired. Some days worse then others. Some days others comment on how tired I look.
I couldn’t figure out what was wrong. I was going to bed at reasonable hours. I wasn’t waking up at 3 or 4 in the morning anymore. Yes, the kids are all bad sleepers, but I didn’t think that had anything to do with my tired look. And then, BAM it hit me. Because of their bad sleeping habits, they talk in their sleep.
“Get your foot off of me!” one cries out in the middle of the night.
‘I don’t want any covers!” the baby cries out.
“I’m on the edge of the bed!”
“Take your arm off of me!”
“Stop taking all the cover!”
This goes on during the night and with my eyes closed or barely open, I fix the problem. I move the kids around, I found blankets or sometimes robes to place over cold kids. And last night, I got the whisper in my ear.
“Mommy, I have to go to the bathroom.”
That was from Rowan at like 1AM. Why was she telling me this? She wasn’t at school. Part of the plot to kill me.
Then it wasn’t over once I told her to go to the bathroom, it continued when she came back to tell me her panties were wet. Really?! Really?!?!? Really little girl you want to have a conversation this time of the morning?! She tried to explain to me that she didn’t pee pee on herself. I didn’t care. I just wanted to go back to sleep.
“It’s okay, Rowan. Go back to sleep,” I assured her.
She got back in the bed and a few minutes later, I decided to cuddle with her only to discover she was wet.
“Rowan, you’re wet. Change clothes.”
I thought she did a little twinkle because she wasn’t fast enough getting her clothes down, that felt like more wetness then that. So she got out of bed, changed clothes and got back into bed. I cuddled with her again only to discover she put her underwear on wrong. But I let it go. It would be fine in the morning.
Yep, it’s my nighttime job of making sure everyone has enough blankets on them, don’t have people touching them, and having conversations at night, besides discovering people didn’t put on their pull ups, that has me looking so tired. I have to repeat what I know. This is my ministry. This is my season. It will pass all too quickly and I’ll miss it. But I would really love one full night of REM sleep because if I can hear all of that going on, I’m not sleeping that deeply.
I couldn’t figure out what was wrong. I was going to bed at reasonable hours. I wasn’t waking up at 3 or 4 in the morning anymore. Yes, the kids are all bad sleepers, but I didn’t think that had anything to do with my tired look. And then, BAM it hit me. Because of their bad sleeping habits, they talk in their sleep.
“Get your foot off of me!” one cries out in the middle of the night.
‘I don’t want any covers!” the baby cries out.
“I’m on the edge of the bed!”
“Take your arm off of me!”
“Stop taking all the cover!”
This goes on during the night and with my eyes closed or barely open, I fix the problem. I move the kids around, I found blankets or sometimes robes to place over cold kids. And last night, I got the whisper in my ear.
“Mommy, I have to go to the bathroom.”
That was from Rowan at like 1AM. Why was she telling me this? She wasn’t at school. Part of the plot to kill me.
Then it wasn’t over once I told her to go to the bathroom, it continued when she came back to tell me her panties were wet. Really?! Really?!?!? Really little girl you want to have a conversation this time of the morning?! She tried to explain to me that she didn’t pee pee on herself. I didn’t care. I just wanted to go back to sleep.
“It’s okay, Rowan. Go back to sleep,” I assured her.
She got back in the bed and a few minutes later, I decided to cuddle with her only to discover she was wet.
“Rowan, you’re wet. Change clothes.”
I thought she did a little twinkle because she wasn’t fast enough getting her clothes down, that felt like more wetness then that. So she got out of bed, changed clothes and got back into bed. I cuddled with her again only to discover she put her underwear on wrong. But I let it go. It would be fine in the morning.
Yep, it’s my nighttime job of making sure everyone has enough blankets on them, don’t have people touching them, and having conversations at night, besides discovering people didn’t put on their pull ups, that has me looking so tired. I have to repeat what I know. This is my ministry. This is my season. It will pass all too quickly and I’ll miss it. But I would really love one full night of REM sleep because if I can hear all of that going on, I’m not sleeping that deeply.
Diapers
The baby can put on her own diaper. If I wasn’t already buying one set of overpriced pull ups, I would switch her to them. There’s something disturbing and wrong about that. And there’s something really wrong when she “forgets” that she knows how to go to the bathroom. Really wrong.
Tuesday, October 18, 2011
Eating
Heating everything at once helped make tacos go faster tonight, but still I’m not a fan. Plus Jory goes through them like crazy. My son is slowly morphing into one of those human garbage cans. When we’re at home all day, he’s constantly asking for food. I have to think: is he really hungry, does he just think he’s hungry, or is he just being greedy because he knows it’s there? The dilemma
The girls are no shortstop.
“Mommy, may I have some milk?”
“Mommy, may I have some grapes?”
“Mommy, may I have some cheerios?”
“You just ate,” I sometimes remind them.
“But I’m still hungry,” is their response. Most days I don’t buy it. You can’t eat breakfast at 8 and be starving by 10. Nope. Don’t buy it.
Next week we need an easier meal. I think I’ll go with the spaghetti we were suppose to have this week.
The girls are no shortstop.
“Mommy, may I have some milk?”
“Mommy, may I have some grapes?”
“Mommy, may I have some cheerios?”
“You just ate,” I sometimes remind them.
“But I’m still hungry,” is their response. Most days I don’t buy it. You can’t eat breakfast at 8 and be starving by 10. Nope. Don’t buy it.
Next week we need an easier meal. I think I’ll go with the spaghetti we were suppose to have this week.
Tacos will kill you...
Oma thought she lost two hundred dollars so she was no help with dinner or clean up. Note to self, NEVER make tacos for dinner during the week. It was a nightmare. I was warming the rice, the meat, making the tacos, putting the rice and pinto beans on the plate. One, two, three. Then heard Jory complaining, “Where’s the cheese?”
Jory and I had stopped at the store before coming home making us even later than usual. The kids have disagreements at the table, trying to help my mom look for her money or at least looking any place in the kitchen where I was working or kitchen, the clock was ticking away. Tick tock. Tick tock. We still had schooling to do. I had to see if he could do the rounding. We had tons of reading to do.
I quickly went and ran the bath water, so at least that was done. I thought we were making good time, until Jory wanted seconds. Really dude?! And Rowan decided she couldn’t eat her beans, but could drink the cup of oj I put on the table for her to drink after she finished her meal. Note to self, NEVER put drinks on the table before they finish eating their meals. I use to think my aunt was mean for making my cousins wait until they finished eating before she put a drink in front of her, you know what she was a genius.
I ate standing up while cleaning up. TTT took bathes one at a time, which is always a nightmare. I still had my room to clean up. I had to make room in the stuffed fridge for all the stuff my mom bought at the store. Tick tock. Tick tock.
Kitchen finished, quick bathe taken, the Irish twins were left with their Oma, who had praise God, found her money in her jeans’ pocket. And no she wasn’t wearing jeans, she took the money out of the bag and put them in her jeans laying across the chair. I’m sure she did this so she wouldn’t lose the money, but really?!?!
Jory read to me. I am beginning to hate his reader. The language is so rhymey it’s hard for me to tell when he’s making a mistake unless, I’m sitting next to him and reading along. The fat rat Pat sat on his hat on a mat. I had him repeat sentences, as I tried to clean up the mess moved from Oma’s room to my room, in her first attempt at trying to set up her room. Finally I gave up on his repeating sentences and just figured if it sounded like the phonics words we’d worked on, then SCORE!
Then math time came along with the baby, who wanted to be in the room. Really baby!?! Mommy is letting you stay up past your bedtime and letting you watch TV, but instead you want to come into the room while your brother and I are working on rounding? I tried to clear a space on the bed for her, but I can’t. I urged her to go back with Oma which brought about tears. Ugh! I don’t have time for this. I offered her the option to sit on the floor near the bed or go back with Oma and Rowan. Jory was 95% there with the rounding. I wanted to see where the 5% was off, and she wasn’t helping the situation and the clock was still ticking. While he and I were working on rounding she created her own space on the bed. That is one resourceful baby. I figured Jory had the rounding down as much as he was going to get for the night or for a while, so we moved on to history, but of course we can’t find the history book.
A manhunt begins as Rowan walks into the room. We can’t find the schedule either. I ran out to the car, grabbed it, waking Oma slightly, before heading back to the room while the Disney channel soothes her back to sleep.
History book is found, poetry book is retrieved from the floor, and all is read. Who knew Romans had their own version of running water in their homes? Or that the togas and tunics were hot to wear? Or that books written in 1948 talked about boys getting spankings for feeding cats their mothers told them to put back in the alley? And then it was 11PM and Rowan was asking to watch a movie. Little girl, stop smoking the crack. School done, kids asleep, and all I can do is collapse next to them. NEVER make tacos for dinner during the week.
Jory and I had stopped at the store before coming home making us even later than usual. The kids have disagreements at the table, trying to help my mom look for her money or at least looking any place in the kitchen where I was working or kitchen, the clock was ticking away. Tick tock. Tick tock. We still had schooling to do. I had to see if he could do the rounding. We had tons of reading to do.
I quickly went and ran the bath water, so at least that was done. I thought we were making good time, until Jory wanted seconds. Really dude?! And Rowan decided she couldn’t eat her beans, but could drink the cup of oj I put on the table for her to drink after she finished her meal. Note to self, NEVER put drinks on the table before they finish eating their meals. I use to think my aunt was mean for making my cousins wait until they finished eating before she put a drink in front of her, you know what she was a genius.
I ate standing up while cleaning up. TTT took bathes one at a time, which is always a nightmare. I still had my room to clean up. I had to make room in the stuffed fridge for all the stuff my mom bought at the store. Tick tock. Tick tock.
Kitchen finished, quick bathe taken, the Irish twins were left with their Oma, who had praise God, found her money in her jeans’ pocket. And no she wasn’t wearing jeans, she took the money out of the bag and put them in her jeans laying across the chair. I’m sure she did this so she wouldn’t lose the money, but really?!?!
Jory read to me. I am beginning to hate his reader. The language is so rhymey it’s hard for me to tell when he’s making a mistake unless, I’m sitting next to him and reading along. The fat rat Pat sat on his hat on a mat. I had him repeat sentences, as I tried to clean up the mess moved from Oma’s room to my room, in her first attempt at trying to set up her room. Finally I gave up on his repeating sentences and just figured if it sounded like the phonics words we’d worked on, then SCORE!
Then math time came along with the baby, who wanted to be in the room. Really baby!?! Mommy is letting you stay up past your bedtime and letting you watch TV, but instead you want to come into the room while your brother and I are working on rounding? I tried to clear a space on the bed for her, but I can’t. I urged her to go back with Oma which brought about tears. Ugh! I don’t have time for this. I offered her the option to sit on the floor near the bed or go back with Oma and Rowan. Jory was 95% there with the rounding. I wanted to see where the 5% was off, and she wasn’t helping the situation and the clock was still ticking. While he and I were working on rounding she created her own space on the bed. That is one resourceful baby. I figured Jory had the rounding down as much as he was going to get for the night or for a while, so we moved on to history, but of course we can’t find the history book.
A manhunt begins as Rowan walks into the room. We can’t find the schedule either. I ran out to the car, grabbed it, waking Oma slightly, before heading back to the room while the Disney channel soothes her back to sleep.
History book is found, poetry book is retrieved from the floor, and all is read. Who knew Romans had their own version of running water in their homes? Or that the togas and tunics were hot to wear? Or that books written in 1948 talked about boys getting spankings for feeding cats their mothers told them to put back in the alley? And then it was 11PM and Rowan was asking to watch a movie. Little girl, stop smoking the crack. School done, kids asleep, and all I can do is collapse next to them. NEVER make tacos for dinner during the week.
Cooking with Jory
Jory asked for tacos for dinner so while we were picking up ingredients to make spaghetti. I decided, why not. So we got the spaghetti supplies and stocked up on taco supplies.
On Sunday after he finished his chores, he washed his hands and came into the kitchen to join me. He got to do one of his favorite activities, shredding cheese. After he put away his cheese, he helped me cook my lunches for the week. He became quite the expert at weighing meat in the scale. He started honing his skills to become a professional with using the George Foreman grill. He even got his first taste and using a knife to chop things. Let me tell you, it takes forever to cut tomatoes when you’re using a butter knife. Then after his tomatoes, he moved on to his lettuce.
It was nice just the two of us, at some points the girls tried to come into the kitchen and get involved, but I shooed them out. It was Mommy and Jory time. It was nice cooking with my baby.
On Sunday after he finished his chores, he washed his hands and came into the kitchen to join me. He got to do one of his favorite activities, shredding cheese. After he put away his cheese, he helped me cook my lunches for the week. He became quite the expert at weighing meat in the scale. He started honing his skills to become a professional with using the George Foreman grill. He even got his first taste and using a knife to chop things. Let me tell you, it takes forever to cut tomatoes when you’re using a butter knife. Then after his tomatoes, he moved on to his lettuce.
It was nice just the two of us, at some points the girls tried to come into the kitchen and get involved, but I shooed them out. It was Mommy and Jory time. It was nice cooking with my baby.
Escaped Convicts
My friend once compared children at the mall to escaped convicts. I felt it was a fair comparison. But the up part for the cops is when they say, “We’re the police! Stop! Freeze!” the convicts have to do it or get some not so nice consequences.
The same can’t be said of parents and kids. Really it’s amazing that there aren’t more strangling incidents across malls and groceries stores throughout the world. The hand of God.
The same can’t be said of parents and kids. Really it’s amazing that there aren’t more strangling incidents across malls and groceries stores throughout the world. The hand of God.
Sneaky baby
The baby is so sneaky and stealth at times. She is obsessed with sneaking into Jory’s drawer and now room, to get his overnighters and pull the cushion/stuffing out of them.
She has her own diapers to do this to, but she never does. Has even skipped over her stuff to attack his? Why does she find this so much fun? I can never catch her in the act. It’s like that kid can’t be left alone for a hot second.
She has her own diapers to do this to, but she never does. Has even skipped over her stuff to attack his? Why does she find this so much fun? I can never catch her in the act. It’s like that kid can’t be left alone for a hot second.
PSAs
Jory isn’t doing a good job keeping his room clean. I go in his room and clothes are sticking out of drawers. Pajamas are on the floor instead of folded neatly on the bed or his dresser. Clothes that need to be on a hanger lay on the bed. Ugh! I want to strangle him. I don’t ask much from him. Why can’t he do the easy thing of cleaning his room?
I kept going round and round with this. How to encourage him to clean up, keep his room straighten. Then it hit me, his room looks like mine. I’m yelling at Jory to clean his room and he’s saying to me, “I learned it by watching you, Mommy! I learned it by watching you!” We are our own ’80s Say No To Drugs PSA.
He would be correct. I think he and I both need to get Operation “Hang up our clothes and put away our stuff and stop procrastinating “under way.
I kept going round and round with this. How to encourage him to clean up, keep his room straighten. Then it hit me, his room looks like mine. I’m yelling at Jory to clean his room and he’s saying to me, “I learned it by watching you, Mommy! I learned it by watching you!” We are our own ’80s Say No To Drugs PSA.
He would be correct. I think he and I both need to get Operation “Hang up our clothes and put away our stuff and stop procrastinating “under way.
Discoveries
“Mommy, the baby is only three-years-old. How is she tying her shoes?” Rowan asked/declared in amazement.
“I don’t know, but it is amazing,” I responded.
The first time I saw her tie her on shoes, I was pretty amazed. No, I was flat out amazed. Look at the things you learn at school. Youngest babies rock!
Thank you, Mrs. Wilson!
“I don’t know, but it is amazing,” I responded.
The first time I saw her tie her on shoes, I was pretty amazed. No, I was flat out amazed. Look at the things you learn at school. Youngest babies rock!
Thank you, Mrs. Wilson!
Wednesday, October 12, 2011
Rounding up and rounding down
Jory and I once again sat down and I was ready to go the distance. We did a few problems, I used the explanations given. I said a line that I love courtesy of Deborah, “Five or more go up to the store.” I love catchy math statements like that.
We had stopped by the library on the way home and he got his favorite Danger Ranger dvds and I told him that if he could do five rounding problems by himself, he could watch his beloved DVD.
We went over a few then I wrote down some numbers.
He said, “Mommy, you do these and I’ll do these.”
“Okay. Do you want to try them all by yourself?” I suggested tentatively expecting to get shot down.
“Yes.”
I checked my email and before I knew it he was done. Only half of the answers were right. He wasn’t rounding the right way, but praise God he was getting the right multiples of ten.
We went over why he rounded the way he did. We reviewed the number line at the bottom of the paper showing him when to round up or down.
He wanted to try it again. He only got one wrong. We talked over and then he said he was ready to try again. This time he wrote his own numbers and this time he got them all right. Praise God! Go Jory! You rock my world!
We did a few more to make sure he had it down, and all systems go. I decided we’d let it go for the night and he could watch his movie which somehow morphed into Strawberry Shortcake, because the movie wouldn’t work for the girls then I finally got it to play.
The upside to homeschooling, if Jory had been struggling like this in school then he would have had me and his teacher helping him, but his teacher would have to move on to the next lesson pushing Jory even further back, possibly even making him frustrated; but because we’re homeschooling, I had the luxury of stopping everything else and concentrating just on math at home until he got it. Eureka! He got it. And now we can move on and get back on track. I think the next lesson on double digit addition will be a breeze, he was doing that back in kindergarten.
I am one blessed chick. I’ve been given the ability to homeschool my little man and have this awesome support system of wise women who I can reach out to when I feel like I'm sinking.
We had stopped by the library on the way home and he got his favorite Danger Ranger dvds and I told him that if he could do five rounding problems by himself, he could watch his beloved DVD.
We went over a few then I wrote down some numbers.
He said, “Mommy, you do these and I’ll do these.”
“Okay. Do you want to try them all by yourself?” I suggested tentatively expecting to get shot down.
“Yes.”
I checked my email and before I knew it he was done. Only half of the answers were right. He wasn’t rounding the right way, but praise God he was getting the right multiples of ten.
We went over why he rounded the way he did. We reviewed the number line at the bottom of the paper showing him when to round up or down.
He wanted to try it again. He only got one wrong. We talked over and then he said he was ready to try again. This time he wrote his own numbers and this time he got them all right. Praise God! Go Jory! You rock my world!
We did a few more to make sure he had it down, and all systems go. I decided we’d let it go for the night and he could watch his movie which somehow morphed into Strawberry Shortcake, because the movie wouldn’t work for the girls then I finally got it to play.
The upside to homeschooling, if Jory had been struggling like this in school then he would have had me and his teacher helping him, but his teacher would have to move on to the next lesson pushing Jory even further back, possibly even making him frustrated; but because we’re homeschooling, I had the luxury of stopping everything else and concentrating just on math at home until he got it. Eureka! He got it. And now we can move on and get back on track. I think the next lesson on double digit addition will be a breeze, he was doing that back in kindergarten.
I am one blessed chick. I’ve been given the ability to homeschool my little man and have this awesome support system of wise women who I can reach out to when I feel like I'm sinking.
Speed Bump
Lesson 4 of Math-U-See was rounding and estimation. Per usual, Jory and I watched the video once, twice, and I thought life was good until…I took a closer look at his math worksheets and noticed that things were skipped and one sheet had writing on it but it wasn’t his.
I sat him down with some paper and we went off rounding up and down and we hit a brick wall. Jory wasn’t getting it. Poor baby. He was guessing which gives him a 50/50 chance of getting it right.
I took out my teacher’s manual and read. I tried to use the exact wording in the book, the little tricks they use, and nothing. I was getting frustrated. I was concerned that I wasn’t explaining it in a way that he could understand. I put aside my own thoughts cause I was thinking, this seems very easy, but I’m no longer six. I thought it was odd that lesson four was rounding. Was that what first graders were learning now-a-days?
Here was the problem while Jory could count by tens, he couldn’t say the multiples of ten that were closest to a number. So if I said, what two multiples of ten are closest to 38. He would start guessing. 40, 50, 20. But I could tell he wasn’t sure he was just throwing out answers.
His daycare worker helpful wrote out a number line from zero to nine and drew a line between 4 and 5, so he could see what number meant you should round up or round down. And sometimes this worked, he knew when to round up or down, he just had no idea what number to round up or down to.
I finally decided it was time to send out a distress signal to my nearest and dearest, before sending out a full blown SOS. I didn’t want to have this conversation anymore…
“Jory, do you understand?”
“I don’t understand what you’re talking about.”
What a great group of awesome women I have in my life. They responded back and I knew on Tuesday night, I’d take their suggestions and see if their wording could shine a light in the fog.
I sat him down with some paper and we went off rounding up and down and we hit a brick wall. Jory wasn’t getting it. Poor baby. He was guessing which gives him a 50/50 chance of getting it right.
I took out my teacher’s manual and read. I tried to use the exact wording in the book, the little tricks they use, and nothing. I was getting frustrated. I was concerned that I wasn’t explaining it in a way that he could understand. I put aside my own thoughts cause I was thinking, this seems very easy, but I’m no longer six. I thought it was odd that lesson four was rounding. Was that what first graders were learning now-a-days?
Here was the problem while Jory could count by tens, he couldn’t say the multiples of ten that were closest to a number. So if I said, what two multiples of ten are closest to 38. He would start guessing. 40, 50, 20. But I could tell he wasn’t sure he was just throwing out answers.
His daycare worker helpful wrote out a number line from zero to nine and drew a line between 4 and 5, so he could see what number meant you should round up or round down. And sometimes this worked, he knew when to round up or down, he just had no idea what number to round up or down to.
I finally decided it was time to send out a distress signal to my nearest and dearest, before sending out a full blown SOS. I didn’t want to have this conversation anymore…
“Jory, do you understand?”
“I don’t understand what you’re talking about.”
What a great group of awesome women I have in my life. They responded back and I knew on Tuesday night, I’d take their suggestions and see if their wording could shine a light in the fog.
Tuesday, October 11, 2011
Attention missing child!
When we are walking together, the kids have one rule they need to walk beside me aka holding on to me or walk in front of me. We stopped at the Fox Hills Mall after church and I woke everyone up. My babies are nightmares when they are forced awake. Jory was crying and saying he wanted to be carried. Stop! Stop with the crack smokin’, little boy. Stop! The baby was crying and wanted to be held and comforted. So I carried the baby with Jory plastered to my side. Praise God, Rowan was okay and happily walked alongside of me and in front of me.
The baby started getting heavy so after our return at Old Navy, I put her on my shoulders. Jory was feeling better so he was holding my hand and Rowan was in eye shot. With the baby on my shoulders, I couldn’t really turn my head around. We got on the escalator and down we went. We got off and I took two steps. Where’s Rowan? I spun around. She was no where to be found. I look up the escalator to see if she was still on it or at the top of the escalator waiting to go down. Nothing.
Jory and I quickly got back on the escalator and headed up. No Rowan. Panic wanted to ensue. Crap, she’s gone. How did this happen? How could someone grab her so quickly that she didn’t scream or yell? How did no one notice? Where could she have gone? She was there at the escalator with me. Why didn’t she get on the escalator? Where could she have gone? Maybe she went back to Old Navy. I didn’t think so, but maybe. As I walked swiftly there, I quickly imaged calling security when we got in the store. But how could she have disappeared so quickly.
I called out her name, “Rowan!” I heard something and I turned. A man approached me and I looked up to see Rowan on some woman’s hip waving to me. Are you kidding me?!
The man said, “I figured she was yours because you looked in a panic.”
“Thank you,” I said, as his wife put Rowan down and she ran towards me. “Rowan, what happened?”
“I didn’t see you get on the escalator.”
“Where are you supposed to be?”
“In front of you or beside you touching you.”
“This is why, so we don’t get separated, okay?”
“Okay.”
“Okay, Jory?”
“Okay, Mommy.”
“Mommy, you’re holding my hand too tight,” Rowan declared.
“I need to make sure you stay with me.” Really little girl keep your mouth shut right now. UGH!
Grandchildren are reward for not killing your children. Rowan better have a dozen kids.
The baby started getting heavy so after our return at Old Navy, I put her on my shoulders. Jory was feeling better so he was holding my hand and Rowan was in eye shot. With the baby on my shoulders, I couldn’t really turn my head around. We got on the escalator and down we went. We got off and I took two steps. Where’s Rowan? I spun around. She was no where to be found. I look up the escalator to see if she was still on it or at the top of the escalator waiting to go down. Nothing.
Jory and I quickly got back on the escalator and headed up. No Rowan. Panic wanted to ensue. Crap, she’s gone. How did this happen? How could someone grab her so quickly that she didn’t scream or yell? How did no one notice? Where could she have gone? She was there at the escalator with me. Why didn’t she get on the escalator? Where could she have gone? Maybe she went back to Old Navy. I didn’t think so, but maybe. As I walked swiftly there, I quickly imaged calling security when we got in the store. But how could she have disappeared so quickly.
I called out her name, “Rowan!” I heard something and I turned. A man approached me and I looked up to see Rowan on some woman’s hip waving to me. Are you kidding me?!
The man said, “I figured she was yours because you looked in a panic.”
“Thank you,” I said, as his wife put Rowan down and she ran towards me. “Rowan, what happened?”
“I didn’t see you get on the escalator.”
“Where are you supposed to be?”
“In front of you or beside you touching you.”
“This is why, so we don’t get separated, okay?”
“Okay.”
“Okay, Jory?”
“Okay, Mommy.”
“Mommy, you’re holding my hand too tight,” Rowan declared.
“I need to make sure you stay with me.” Really little girl keep your mouth shut right now. UGH!
Grandchildren are reward for not killing your children. Rowan better have a dozen kids.
We aren't the same
I’m so glad my kids aren’t me. I was preparing to go into a bridal shower while I was talking to a friend on the phone. I grabbed a book, then two. I grabbed a story I was working on. She said, you’re taking all that into a shower. I informed her, what if I’m stuck in a corner all by myself with nothing to do and no one to talk to. I need to be able to entertain myself.
Yes, I knew I was going to a shower with people I knew, but the people I knew the best were going to be super duper busy with the shower so I always take backup just in case. Grace taught me that. I think my friend thought it was odd, Grace wouldn’t have. I use to bring books to family functions just in case, particularly if Mona wasn’t home. I’m not good with chitchat when I know we have nothing in common or if I don’t know if we do. Thankfully, my kids aren’t like that.
They talk to everyone. I turn my head at a red light and they are waving to the people in the car next to us. They are saying “Hi!” to the policemen pulled alongside of us. They talk to people we see when we’re going on walks. They talk to people at the stores. I try to stop them cause I worry they are bothering people, plus I just don’t fell comfortable with them talking to everyone. But at least, I don’t have to worry about them taking a book or something to a function, they can socialize with others, strangers. I guess they’ll just have a mom who does that. Man, I miss Grace. She was my buddy who understood.
Yes, I knew I was going to a shower with people I knew, but the people I knew the best were going to be super duper busy with the shower so I always take backup just in case. Grace taught me that. I think my friend thought it was odd, Grace wouldn’t have. I use to bring books to family functions just in case, particularly if Mona wasn’t home. I’m not good with chitchat when I know we have nothing in common or if I don’t know if we do. Thankfully, my kids aren’t like that.
They talk to everyone. I turn my head at a red light and they are waving to the people in the car next to us. They are saying “Hi!” to the policemen pulled alongside of us. They talk to people we see when we’re going on walks. They talk to people at the stores. I try to stop them cause I worry they are bothering people, plus I just don’t fell comfortable with them talking to everyone. But at least, I don’t have to worry about them taking a book or something to a function, they can socialize with others, strangers. I guess they’ll just have a mom who does that. Man, I miss Grace. She was my buddy who understood.
Dear God
Dear God, could you have not made these little children knowing something other than how to eat, poop, spit up, and cry? I’m not saying that they had to be born knowing the quadratic formula, though that would have been AWESOME!, but being able to recognize the word “THE” two pages after you just read it, that would have been helpful.
Jokes?
Driving home from support group, Jory started talking so everyone could hear him.
“Why did the boy run away from the dog?” he asked.
Silence greeted him since I couldn’t think of an answer.
“Because he was scared of him,” he laughed hysterically.
Uh, that wasn’t funny. But he’s only six I thought and just learning to tell jokes so he gets a pass.
“Why did the chicken cross the road?” he continued.
Okay, there was a bazillion answers to this one, so once again I kept quiet.
“Because he wanted to cross the street,” he laughed and laughed and laughed.
Really?! Have I missed something? These jokes aren’t even close to being funny or even mildly amusing. “Jory, Mommy isn’t getting your jokes.”
He took a quick breath from all of his guts are about to bust laughing and said, “They aren’t jokes.”
“What are they?” Because you are delivering them like jokes.
“Things that happened,” he responded, then continued laughing and telling things that happened in joke style.
Things that happened?! Yes, they were, but does he not get that they shouldn’t be said like he’s setting up a joke. Nope, he doesn’t and I’m pretty sure me explaining it would do no good. So I let him continue and he was fine with the only sound of laughter coming from his own mouth.
“Why did the boy run away from the dog?” he asked.
Silence greeted him since I couldn’t think of an answer.
“Because he was scared of him,” he laughed hysterically.
Uh, that wasn’t funny. But he’s only six I thought and just learning to tell jokes so he gets a pass.
“Why did the chicken cross the road?” he continued.
Okay, there was a bazillion answers to this one, so once again I kept quiet.
“Because he wanted to cross the street,” he laughed and laughed and laughed.
Really?! Have I missed something? These jokes aren’t even close to being funny or even mildly amusing. “Jory, Mommy isn’t getting your jokes.”
He took a quick breath from all of his guts are about to bust laughing and said, “They aren’t jokes.”
“What are they?” Because you are delivering them like jokes.
“Things that happened,” he responded, then continued laughing and telling things that happened in joke style.
Things that happened?! Yes, they were, but does he not get that they shouldn’t be said like he’s setting up a joke. Nope, he doesn’t and I’m pretty sure me explaining it would do no good. So I let him continue and he was fine with the only sound of laughter coming from his own mouth.
Wednesday, October 5, 2011
Making some headway
Jory and I were going over his verses for AWANA as we were driving in the rain (God, why is it raining? Tony, Toni, Tone said, “It never rains in Southern California, so what is going on?”) But I digress.
“Psalm 118:1, ‘Give thanks to the Lord, for He is good…’” I said.
“Psalms 118:1, ‘Give thanks to the Lord, for He is good…’” Jory repeated.
“God is good,” I added.
“All the time,” Jory responded.
My heart leapt out my chest. “That’s right baby, God is good all the time.”
Praise God, it seems like I’m being enabled with the right words to say to speak to this little boy’s heart. Why did I ever want a girl first?
“Psalm 118:1, ‘Give thanks to the Lord, for He is good…’” I said.
“Psalms 118:1, ‘Give thanks to the Lord, for He is good…’” Jory repeated.
“God is good,” I added.
“All the time,” Jory responded.
My heart leapt out my chest. “That’s right baby, God is good all the time.”
Praise God, it seems like I’m being enabled with the right words to say to speak to this little boy’s heart. Why did I ever want a girl first?
Umbrellas and Ducks
“Mommy, I want a Ducky Momo umbrella like the baby,” Rowan stated, holding her girly looking umbrella in her hand.
Ducky Momo? Oh, Ducky Momo. “The baby doesn’t have a Ducky Momo umbrella,” I responded.
“Yes, she does,” Rowan insisted.
“No, her umbrella just has yellow ducks on it. It’s not Ducky Momo. Ducks are usually yel- -“ I chuckled before Jory interrupted me.
“No, Mommy, the baby has a Ducky Momo umbrella,” the six-year-old confirmed.
So from now on anything with yellow ducks on it will be declared Ducky Momo. I hope Rowan’s Oma can find her a Ducky Momo umbrella, too then.
Ducky Momo? Oh, Ducky Momo. “The baby doesn’t have a Ducky Momo umbrella,” I responded.
“Yes, she does,” Rowan insisted.
“No, her umbrella just has yellow ducks on it. It’s not Ducky Momo. Ducks are usually yel- -“ I chuckled before Jory interrupted me.
“No, Mommy, the baby has a Ducky Momo umbrella,” the six-year-old confirmed.
So from now on anything with yellow ducks on it will be declared Ducky Momo. I hope Rowan’s Oma can find her a Ducky Momo umbrella, too then.
My Singing Girl
Rowan is my singing girl. She sings all the time and she has a range that is all over the place.
Someday/ I’ll be living in the big old city/ And all you’re ever gonna be is mean/ Why you gotta be so mean
It’s too late to apologize now/ It’s too late to apologize now
This is the day/ This is the day/ That the Lord has made/ That the Lord has made
Where is ring finger/ Where is ring finger/ Here I am/ Here I am
My big girl singing a little country, a little pop, who knew that she even remembered the One Republic song. I like how she added the now, my girl the songwriter, not wanting anyone to feel like they can never apologize. Such a sweetheart, she does her mommy proud. My grandchildren will have a nice array of music flowing into their little ears.
Someday/ I’ll be living in the big old city/ And all you’re ever gonna be is mean/ Why you gotta be so mean
It’s too late to apologize now/ It’s too late to apologize now
This is the day/ This is the day/ That the Lord has made/ That the Lord has made
Where is ring finger/ Where is ring finger/ Here I am/ Here I am
My big girl singing a little country, a little pop, who knew that she even remembered the One Republic song. I like how she added the now, my girl the songwriter, not wanting anyone to feel like they can never apologize. Such a sweetheart, she does her mommy proud. My grandchildren will have a nice array of music flowing into their little ears.
Lesson Learned
We skipped church this week because as I laid in bed, my mind just whirled with all the things that needed to get done so we could start school before 10PM. I had planned to make Saturday the day to do everything, but instead we ended up spending all day at Aunt Lavonia and then shopping with Oma into the night.
So we skip church and you know what we started school even later than last Sunday. We should have went to church.
So we skip church and you know what we started school even later than last Sunday. We should have went to church.
It’s Christmas time
Time to decide what the kiddos are getting, while trying to be economical. Do those two worlds exist? This year, I’m trying to keep it small, keep it cool, keep it simple and cheap.
What do you buy seven-year-old boys other than trucks, cars, cars, and trucks? He’s not into video games. He’s into trucks. I don’t know if I can stand more automobiles in the house.
And what do the Irish twins get? Whatever it will be, it will be in duplicate in the same exact color.
So far for sure, they are getting the Pet Pillow. What, you say. Yep, it’s a pillow and a pet. Isn’t that miraculous? Shout out to Steph for throwing that idea out there and let’s be honest, most of what is on the list so far. Surprisingly we past the dual toy in the store and …
“Mommy, remember you said last time we saw it that you would buy me one?” Rowan asked.
Uh, no I don’t remember but SCORE for me cause you’re getting it for Christmas. “No, I don’t remember,” I replied.
“You said, you would get me one,” she continued.
“Okay.”
“Me too,” the baby piped in.
“I want one,” Jory added.
Of course you two do. I should just buy every gift in triplicate. Maybe Jory can get a Transformer or something. But will I in someway be supporting Michael Bay? Cause I can’t support men who think women are whores or idiots.
What do you buy seven-year-old boys other than trucks, cars, cars, and trucks? He’s not into video games. He’s into trucks. I don’t know if I can stand more automobiles in the house.
And what do the Irish twins get? Whatever it will be, it will be in duplicate in the same exact color.
So far for sure, they are getting the Pet Pillow. What, you say. Yep, it’s a pillow and a pet. Isn’t that miraculous? Shout out to Steph for throwing that idea out there and let’s be honest, most of what is on the list so far. Surprisingly we past the dual toy in the store and …
“Mommy, remember you said last time we saw it that you would buy me one?” Rowan asked.
Uh, no I don’t remember but SCORE for me cause you’re getting it for Christmas. “No, I don’t remember,” I replied.
“You said, you would get me one,” she continued.
“Okay.”
“Me too,” the baby piped in.
“I want one,” Jory added.
Of course you two do. I should just buy every gift in triplicate. Maybe Jory can get a Transformer or something. But will I in someway be supporting Michael Bay? Cause I can’t support men who think women are whores or idiots.
Student of the Week
is Layla. Third week of school and she is student of the week. I love this baby. She has taken to school like a fish to water. I really should adopt an embryo and give birth in a tub so I could have one kid who straight out of the womb can swim and I'd save myself money.
But I digress. My baby is loving school and school is loving her.
But I digress. My baby is loving school and school is loving her.
Saturday, October 1, 2011
Thursdays at our house
Thursdays at our house consists of going to do laundry at the laundrymat because our washer and dryer aren’t hooked up because TTT’s Oma needs molding in the laundry room and the molding guy hasn’t been over. It use to be on Friday nights but then AWANA started back up. Thursday nights consisted of trying to keep TTT contained inside the laundrymat while trying to move clothes from the washer to the dryer from the dryer to the tables to fold and put up in the bags. But now that school has started, Oma gets to do everything except fold while we do school. A little history, a little poetry, a little reading aloud, a little Bible. It’s amazing what can get done in a few hours.
The Dentist
I thought our trip to the dentist would be easy breezy and it was until….I found Jory’s tooth had to be pulled. This kid and his baby teeth he just doesn’t want let go off. Out of the five teeth he’s lost, two of them had to be pulled by the dentist. This bottom tooth he’s lost was far back, Oma was worried he was going to have freaky looking adult teeth. I was concerned too, but not as much as her. The dentist assured me his tongue would do the work and push the tooth forward.
Rowan past through everything with flying colors as did the baby until he looked at her x-rays. My baby. My baby Sob. Sob. My baby has a cavity. How is this possible? How did this happen? We brush twice a day. She doesn’t even have that many teeth. I hope this isn’t a sign of things in her future. I hope she didn’t inherit Oma’s bad teeth.
Rowan past through everything with flying colors as did the baby until he looked at her x-rays. My baby. My baby Sob. Sob. My baby has a cavity. How is this possible? How did this happen? We brush twice a day. She doesn’t even have that many teeth. I hope this isn’t a sign of things in her future. I hope she didn’t inherit Oma’s bad teeth.
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