Squirrel Poop Myth Debunked

Fall Balls

(the "girls" at a traditional Canadian Thanksgiving walk in my hometown)

Everyone seems to be writing all of these awe-inspiring posts about the changing seasons and the beauty of autumn that is slowly beginning to envelop us all. I for one adore fall, especially fall in my hometown in Ontario, Canada. Growing up in the forest city where the fall colors are right out of a rich painting has forever tainted my outlook on fall anywhere else in the world. While the grass is always greener for some, the leaves are always more colourful where I grew up. So as I am enjoying the
cooler weather and the brown leaves beneath my feet – gotta love that crunch and crinkling sound – I do miss the true beauty of the season that the heat and dryness has somewhat thwarted this year.

I do have to admit to having a certain fondness for the squirrels. I’m not an animal lover, and besides last winter when Wolter had me and the kids feeding the squirrels peanuts from our fingers, I’ve never really “cared” for the critter, but they are sort of the official autumn mascot. Seeing these little guys scurrying around, munching and storing nuts, staring us down with keen observance and then daring us in a game of chase, I don ‘t know... there’s something awfully cute about them (though I hear a bite from one is not quite so cute). As fall has approached this year and these furry little brown guys have seemed to suddenly come out of hiding and multiplied feverishly, I’ve started to wonder something: where is all the squirrel poop? Having grown up with Canadian geese, you KNOW there are geese when you see ALL that horrid poop everywhere. Stepping in and around it is an absolute nightmare… but fall doesn’t seem to bring with it the stench of poop from it’s mascot. Here’s some of what I’ve found in my very rigorous and obviously prestigious research on the internet:

http://www.urbandictionary.com/define.php?term=squirrel+poop
http://uncyclopedia.org/wiki/Squirrel

However, it was a clip from the very educated "YouTube" that clarified my question and confirmed my hypothesis.

So next time you go for a walk in the woods, think about that crunchy “leaf” sound beneath your feet. Is it just leaves? Are all those round things acorns? Just a thought. Enjoy the season.

Blue eyes and smiles!

We're starting to get smiles over here! (this is only a tiny glimpse at the real thing)

Saturday is a Special Day!

We had a very full, busy and fun day! Mr. Man started out his day before the sun was up and left to participate in the Hoosier Hills Bike Tour. He has been riding for 1-2 hours almost every day this summer and really enjoyed the challenging 100 km hilly ride he was on today (which only took him 4 hours 4 minutes with one flat tire)! While he was gone burning calories, the kids and I went and watched Big J’s soccer game and then headed across town for the boys’ soccer practice (I’m SOOOO glad they can be on pretty much all the same teams/activities due to their blessed 13 month age difference). We were enjoying our lunch of PB&J sandwiches and yummy pumpkin bars when Daddy called, out of breath, to say he was on his way home!

We didn’t rest nearly long enough and soon left to go to a nearby apple orchard. (I did catch a few winks on the drive there – Mr. Man was just thankful he didn’t have to peddle and the drive was relaxing for him too!) The trees were the perfect height for the kids and they had such a blast picking. Mr. T kept inspecting every apple he picked to make sure it was perfect, and I hate to say he threw the ones that weren’t quite so on the ground to be sold as seconds! Little E however, discovered the true jackpot – a whole slew of apples on the ground under a tree! He tried to carry as many as he could – even in his shirt! We had a wonderful time as a family, and I hope to make this a new tradition.

When we returned home we had a great time making applesauce with my fabulous applesauce maker! It’s like magic – the guck (skin, core) come out one end and the applesauce warm and sweet out the other. The kids really enjoyed helping with this, and we enjoyed delicious applesauce (with some leftovers) for dinner.

Tonight I am uploading all the fun pictures from our apple adventure while I should be working on my sharing time for primary tomorrow. I suppose I don’t want the day to end… I feel very content.

Tending Roses

I'm reading a great book once again... and thanks to the friend that referred it, I have found out it is a part of a 5 book series - so I'll be reading for a while! I really can't do justice to how beautiful these books are. The story is sweet, the writing sensational and the fact that there is a grandmother's journal involved... very compelling.

Here's an excerpt that should convince you mothers that you want to read this beautiful story:

"Once, a poor hired lady came with a bouquet of roses and wildflowers clasped in her hands. She told me that her children had sneaked into my garden and picked them for her, and that they would be punished. I bade her not to scold the children, for I was proud to give them this gift. She smiled, and thanked me, and told me that, with so many children, she had no time for tending roses.

I did not understand her words until my own children were born. When the first was a babe, I took her outside and let her play in an empty wash barrel so I could have time for tending my roses. I was often cross with her cries while I was at my work. As she grew, and as my second child was born, I understood what the hired lady had told me - that motherhood leaves no time for selfish pleasures. Only time for tending others.

My roses grew wild and died as I busied myself with feeding and diapering, nursery rhymes and sickbeds. I missed those bright blooms that had been mine and felt it unfair that I must leave my hard work there to die. But I did not think of it overmuch. My mind and heart were occupied with the sorrows and joys of motherhood.

The day came, it seemed in no time, when my children were grown and gone, and I again found time to tend the roses. I could labor over them from dawn until dusk with no children to feed, no husband needing meals, and few passersby on the old road. My flowers have come thick and full and beautiful again. From time to time, I see neighbor children come to pick them when I am silent in my house. I close my eyes and listen to their laughter, and think that the best times of my life, the times that passed by me the most quickly, were the times when the roses grew wild."

Little does he know...

Inevitably, the baby has a cold. Not bad, but enough that eating has become difficult for him and laying down uncomfortable. So we spent the night together – mostly up! This morning came much too early, but somehow I got up and got my children ready for the day (I even made Big J’s lunch even though school lunch was calling my name). I made it through knowing (hoping really) that I would be able to follow Laurie’s advice and go back to bed after I had shipped off the school attendees (namely the two eldest and my dear husband). Thanks to a loving neighbor, I didn’t even have to leave my house to get everyone where they needed to be. From 9-11 the baby and I caught up on our rest, while my three year old willingly zoned out in front of whatever they’re showing on PBS these days.

There were only two interruptions – once for a snack (I thankfully found a package of pez candies and a Winnie the Pooh dispenser that went over VERY well, oh and a banana for health purposes), and the second time there was hollering and Little E had gotten himself stuck between some toys.

When Mr. T got home from school he asked what we had done all morning. Little E started in this animated tale of how he had gotten stuck and was so scared and out of nowhere came Mommy to save him… and, turning to me smiling he said, “You’re just the best superhero ever, Mommy!”

So there you go. My inactions will leave no lasting impact… in the eyes of my child, I have already saved the day (and in my pjs too!)

Psycho Psycho Child

It’s embarrassing to admit, but when Big J was a baby and I was completely out of it and not entirely myself – suffering from postpartum depression – I used to sing her the most horrible lullaby ever. I wish you could hear the tune, because at least that is somewhat soothing. The initial lyrics go like this, “Psycho, psycho child; why am I your mother?” Once I “came to” that song seemed to dissipate along with it – thank goodness! Every once in a while I will begin singing this song (just the “psycho, psycho child” part) when my kids are doing something extremely goofy and it has basically become a family joke.

In attempting to diagnose Mr. T’s cyclic fevers (he gets them on the dot every 28 days, they get as high as 106-107 degrees and last up to a week, week and a half), we have been consulting with a specialist at a Children’s Hospital. On Thursday we went and spent the afternoon with the boys – as the doctor insisted that both Mr. Man and I be there to hear the diagnosis and suggested treatments. Thankfully the most serious outcomes had been cast aside, and even Lyme disease had finally been ruled out. We are now left with two syndromes, both which are treatable and he will outgrow by the time he reaches adolescents (which is when we will have to really deal with his Trevor’s disease). Both syndromes have different treatments, and so in order for us to figure out which one he has, we have to have his blood drawn twice a week for the next three months, and then we are trying a treatment for the one syndrome which it seems more likely is the one he has. This involves giving him a steroid treatment at the onset of his fever – a double dose the first day and a single dose the second. Mr. T’s fever had started on Wednesday and so we decided (with the Doctor) to attempt the steroid treatment at once. It worked. What should have lasted days, ended after only a day and a half – that night Mr. T soaked through all his bedding and pillow and clothing… his fever broke! It truly seems like a miracle. No amount of ibuprofen or tylenol (we go through bottles monthly) or even antibiotics could keep this little guy’s fever down, let alone break it. We are hoping this will help in making a final diagnosis and help conclude the long-term treatment he will need. We are also hoping he won’t have to be on steroids for long… for when he is, he is truly a PSYCHO PSYCHO CHILD!!!

For two days this boy has not been able to sit still. My usually quiet and non-troublesome preschooler has been into everything and basically jumping off the walls! He has been flying like a bird, climbing anything he can, and even in the car when he is buckled in he will remove any item of clothing he can and throw it. He has been much more aggressive, but mostly just very high strung. Basically he is acting like a child who needs to be on a different kind of medication! If I didn’t know this was a side affect of the medication I would be going crazy myself, but since I know it’s not his fault and won’t last forever I have been laughing a lot at his antics. The boy cannot stop long enough to eat, nor can he fall asleep. His body itches and he talks non-stop about absolute jibberish. He is my psycho psycho child… and yet I am still grateful that he isn’t sick. He is more than happy about that too!

Good Morning

I’m a complete hypocrite. Every morning I begin my day by uttering a quick prayer to my maker before the days events force me into a world of frantic moments and created memories. Repetitive, yes, but since I was a child I’ve started my morning prayer with an expression of gratitude for the new day I have been given. Lately, after said prayer, I start chasing kids into gear, comforting a crying baby and attempting to swallow a bite of cereal with lactose-free milk all while complaining (mostly in my mind, but sometimes out loud) how much I am not enjoying this new day. I know it’s horrible. I really do enjoy my days (as much as a completely sleep deprived “new” mom can)… I’m just really not a morning person.

The past month has been a trying one for me. And while the last week has been much more tolerable, almost to the point of me feeling “normal”… I’m not taking any chances and declaring myself as such. Having a new baby is hard. I’m not complaining, or whining, I’m just saying it how it is. Having four kids is hard. Losing half your blood and feeling weaker than a thirsty vampire (yes, I finished Eclipse!) is hard. Heck, just being a mom and wife is hard.
Before I was pregnant with my fourth I was just starting to feel like I couldn’t understand how “other” moms couldn’t keep their houses tolerably clean, why “other” moms were always running late and then at the end of the day didn’t know what to feed their family for dinner – hello, that’s what a meal planning calendar and co-ordinating shopping list are for. Now as I struggle to get out of my pjs and out of my house on a daily basis, let alone get all the kids (and yes four now seems like so many more than three) physically and emotionally cared for, I worship you superhero moms who have swept, and perchance even mopped your kitchen floor in the past month. Since I gave birth, Big J has started first grade, Mr. T has started preschool, Little E is doing Joy School (yes I’m attempting that once again) and all the fall sports have begun as has Little E’s music class, not to mention the continuous speech therapy sessions (Mr. T has thankfully “graduated” from speech just in time for another little boy to join our family!) I’m still Primary President and though I have had tremendous support and help in that area, it’s something that is on my mind quite frequently and tires me out beyond belief. My sweet baby is EXTREMELY sensitive and lactose intolerant. I’ve had to completely change my diet, and thankfully that has made a tremendous difference in his whole demeanor. He is back to being the baby he was that first week. Really I’m just trying to paint of picture of why I haven’t been blogging in the last month… but it’s starting to sound too much like whining, and so I better move on.

Last Saturday, after several nights of no sleep, Mr. Man hinted that he thought I was depressed. Having experience severe postpartum depression, I began to feel extreme anxiety that he may be right. I brushed him off explaining that I was just tired… all the while fretting that I was experiencing all the “symptoms”. I spent the whole day depressed that I may be depressed. It was a horrible day and a very bad waste of time. That night I had an experience that clarified things and helped me to see that I really wasn’t depressed, but just, as I had thought… VERY TIRED! Almost as a rebound reaction, I’ve had a much better week… almost glorifying the realization of my sanity and un-depression!

Today after getting Big J and Mr. T off to school the two little boys and I headed over to speech therapy, then music class, a trip to the park followed by adding Mr. T and a friend to our crew and heading over to McDonalds for a lunchdate with some friends, I did three loads of laundry, started dusting, picked up Big J from school, prepared a fun after school snack, actually went outside with all the kids while they played, had a long phone conversation with my mom and then co-hosted a baby shower for two friends. Sounds like a pretty good “normal” day… but my house is still a disaster, and we had leftovers and peanut butter sandwiches for dinner! (And by the way, Lynnette – my kids were still up when I got home tonight too!)

So my point has completely dislodged from my brain… but basically I’ve been busy and hormonal, and started humming and hawing about whether or not I even want to keep blogging – which is a whole other post in and of itself – which actually totally defeats my thought process regarding blogging anyways! Mornings… right… anybody have any advice or techniques that help to make a non-morning person at least friendly in the hours before 10am? How do you all make your mornings (when most everyone has to be out the door by 8:30am) run smoother? There are many of you out there who are up on pedestals for me, and I would more than LOVE your comments. For now, I’m going to continue to pray, because that has to help make the day at least a little better, and I may even try to be more specific and ask to enjoy the gift I’ve been given.

For your viewing pleasure...

... one month, yesterday.

Photos by Joy