12 Year Old Doctors and Green Nail Polish

The blog’s been a little quiet lately. I wish I could say it’s because my life’s been a little quite and I have nothing to report.

Sadly that is not the case. Although the nothing to report part might be true. Most of what keeps me busy these days is the mundane. The day to day of keeping all these big people doing what needs to be done and clothed and educated and ferried around from place to place.

We have had one noteworthy incident…



Eve broke her foot about a month ago, which I have mentioned. The thing is, last week’s X-Ray showed that it is not healing and the doc we were seeing suggested a specialist. He said the specialist will most likely want to do surgery to pin it.

Oh, Joy.

Well, we saw the specialist yesterday. He was a nice man who was from a French speaking area of Africa originally. He was very nice and very smart and talked VERY fast in his French/African accent. He also had a person with him who he was talking too. He was telling this person everything he was doing and why. One would assume this person would be a med student, correct? Ah, that would be wrong. They must teach Doctor Arrogance 101 early in the course of study, because this NOT student had it in spades.

I was trying to explain to Eve why the Dr was telling everything to this other guy (the African Dr had stepped out and the NOT student Dr was still in the room.) I asked the NOT student if he was a med student and he looked at me sort of smugly and said in a rather exasperated tone “No. I’m not a med student, I’m a second year resident.”

I replied graciously to this annoying little upstart who was hardly older than my son, “Oh, interesting. Could you please explain to us how it all works? 4 years of college, and then what?”

He sighs but deigns to graciously educate us on the ways of medical education.
“4 years of college, 4 years of medical school and then residency. The length of residency depends on your chosen specialty. Once you’re a resident you’re considered a doctor.”

So, now you know. The little punk who was young enough to be my son was a doctor.

Sheesh I’m getting old.

So back to Eve. He put her in a cast. Not like the removable one she had been wearing. No, this is a cast cast. 4 weeks of crutches, no weight on it at all, itches you can't scratch, and plastic bags while she bathes.

It is a last ditch effort to avoid surgery, but one the African Doctor (you know, the one who was not 12) thinks will work.

I hope he’s right. I’m afraid to ask which of the 2 doctors would be performing the surgery. I don’t think I could let Doogie Howser operate on my baby, no matter how many years of residency he’s completed.

And just in case your curious, Eve chose a green cast.



Because she had the nail polish to match. That is how the mind of a pre-teen girl works.

Monday...

This random and somewhat disjointed list is all I could come up with today. I'm sorry. But it's Monday. And it's morning. And I don't really like either...

1. The boys have been split up. I don't know if I've mentioned that or not. Will has been moved to the back/extra room. It was the only extra overflow sort of space in the house. It is an official bedroomish thing, with a closet and bathroom, but it also has a door to the back of the house. But the kid's 18 so...

2. Eve's broken foot? Yeah, still broken. In fact, it still as broken as it was 4 weeks ago. We have an appointment with the surgeon on Wed. It seems somehow appropriate. We started the year out with hand surgery for Will, so it seems right, in a sick sort of way, to end it with foot surgery for Eve.

3. Bob got his permit a few weeks ago so I'm relegated to passenger status again. I don't like being the passenger BTW.

4. Sir D turned 39 on Friday. I don't mean that facetiously. He really did turn 39. Know what that means? I will be 39 soon too. Hummm. NOT liking that. Sir D got a mountain bike from me and a friend of ours. This friend found it on Craig's list. I heart Craig's list. I heart male friends who are willing to go pick up the item purchased on Craig's List more.



5. And today is Monday. In case you were not aware. Monday. My NOT favorite day of the week.

6. I think I was a little optimistic in my school planning for this week, because I looked over the assignments sheet I made up for the kids and I felt overwhelmed. Of course it may have something to do with the fact that it's almost 9:30 and we haven't started yet...and it's Monday.

Happy Monday to you!

His Children

My IRL, Bloggy and FB friend Tonya had this quote on her blog today.

I SO needed to read this today. Thank you Tonya, and thank you Lord for the gentle reminder.

"These children are dear to Me. Be a mother to them, and more than a mother. Watch over them tenderly, be just and kind. If thy heart is not large enough to embrace them, I will enlarge it after a pattern of My own. If these young children are docile and obedient, bless Me for it; if they are froward, call upon Me for help; if they weary thee, I will be thy consolation; if thou sink under thy burden, I will be thy Reward."

So, how'd YOU sleep?

Sir D and I and the kids were making our way out of the hospital’s lobby when we noticed Him standing at the door. He was checking the forearm of every person who left the hospital. If they did not have the proper mark on their forearm, they were quickly and quietly escorted away by The Others. Oh no. How were we going to get out? We did not have the proper mark.

We saw some of Them, heading to a side exit that was not yet being manned. Sir D grabbed the hands of the girls and practically ran to the door with Bob and I trailing behind him.

We managed to get out, but only just. We quickly headed to our car in the parking garage. The people around us were walking slowly, steadily, as if in a daze. They were everywhere, checking forearms, dragging people back into the hospital if they did not have the mark.

We got into the car and made it out of the parking garage just in time, before the barricade went up. We had to get home, we had to get our things, pick up Will and get out of the city.

The cell phone rang and I picked it up. “Mom! Where are you? They are everywhere! I’m at the hospital, I came to meet you and They’re here! I can’t get out! I can’t find you! What do I do?!?”

It was Will.

Sir D grabbed the phone as he spun the car around, trying not to draw attention to himself. They were watching and They were everywhere. If you behaved in an erratic manor They’d know you did not have the mark and They’d come after you, we had to go unnoticed.

“Will, go to the basement of the building, in the back there is a storage room with a window. We’ll meet you there. Just hide down there till we get there, we’ll break the window and get you out. Just hang on. We won’t leave without you.”

We got to back to the hospital, having to carefully and calmly drive around to the back side where the doctors park. Sir D saw the window he had told Will to wait for him at. Sir D stopped the car and got out. They were milling about across the street. If he was quick he could break the window, help Will out and get back into the car before They could get to us.

Once Sir D got to the window he quickly broke it, pulled Will through the window and they ran back to the car. They had noticed. They were coming.

Sir D hit the gas and screeched the tires around the hospital and out of Their site. He slowed down again, like the rest of traffic, like Them, to not draw attention to our unchanged state.

We drove as quickly as we could to the house to grab a few things. Throwing into the car only what we needed to survive. We ran back to the car, to head out to the ranch my aunt and uncle have in the country. We knew we’d be safe there.

We all jumped into the car and were about to take off when Ann yelled that Eve had not made it to the car! Where was she? Suddenly we heard a scream. They had her…

I woke up sweating, the scream had been mine. What a horrid dream! It was laughable and terrifying all at the same time. The dream was like every zombie/aliens-are-taking-over-the-world movie I’d ever seen and yet it was so real. It was MY children they were after, MY family that was in danger. That’s the weird thing with dreams. The emotions attached to them are real, even if the situation is not.

I have never been so grateful to wake up in my own bed at three in the morning. Never was I so grateful to see all four of my beautiful children peacefully sleeping in their own beds (You bet I got up and checked!). Never have I been so grateful that zombies/aliens were not taking over the world.

A Change is A-Coming.

Today is a sad day here on the Hilltop. Well, not for everyone, only for me. Today I'm giving up my back room/school room to my college student.

We will no longer have a back room where the kids can go to watch a tv show that I don't want to hear or play games I don't want to hear, or read quietly because the rest of the house is too loud. There will also no longer be one central location to store all the school stuff. This especially makes me sad.

We're moving Will out of the room he shares with Bob into the back room. The back room is like a bedroom, it has a closet and a bathroom attached, but it also has an outside door opening onto the back deck. This I am also not so happy about, but honestly the kid's 18. I'm not too worried about him sneaking out and partying. He's not that kinda kid and really he's a man. If he wants to go out somewhere at 3 am, I suppose he can. (but don't tell him that !)

The boys have always shared a room. Since they were babies. They don't, however, seem at all sentimental about this move. In fact, Bob is practically throwing Will's stuff out the door.

I'll show you after photos when they're done.

*sigh*

It's kinda like the end of an era. Next thing you know they'll be moving out completely...

A Little Perspective

My SIL sent this to me. It is one of those things going around the internet. I am not a forwarder, but this is so funny I had to share it.

There is just something about perspective, isn't there? House too small? There are people with NO house at all.

Tired of having to skimp on food? There are people starving.

Tired of chronic pain? There are those who are dying.

Frustrated with Wal-Mart clothes? There are people who own NO clothing...and on and on it goes.

This was just a funny way for God to remind me today, that I don't really have it so bad after all...

WHY PARENTS DRINK...

A father passing by his son's bedroom was astonished to see that his bed was nicely made and everything was picked up. Then he saw an Envelope, propped up prominently on the pillow that was addressed to 'Dad.'

With the worst premonition he opened the envelope with trembling hands and read the letter.

Dear Dad:

It is with great regret and sorrow that I'm writing you. I had to elope with my new girlfriend because I wanted to avoid a scene with Mom and you.


I have been finding real passion with Stacy and she is so nice.


But I knew you would not approve of her because of all her piercing, tattoos, tight motorcycle clothes and the fact that she is much older than I am. But it' s not only the passion...Dad she's pregnant.


Stacy said that we will be very happy.

She owns a trailer in the woods and has a stack of firewood for the whole winter. We share a dream of having many more children.

Stacy has opened my eyes to the fact that marijuana doesn't really hurt anyone.

We'll be growing it for ourselves and trading it with the other people that live nearby for cocaine and ecstasy.

In the meantime we will pray that science will find a cure for AIDS so Stacy can get better. She deserves it.

Don't worry Dad. I'm 15 and I know how to take care of myself. Someday I'm sure that we will be back to visit so that you can get to know your grandchildren.
Love, Your Son John


PS. Dad, none of the above is true. I'm over at Tommy's house.
I Just wanted to remind you that there are worse things in life than a Report card That's in my center desk drawer.

I love you.
Call me when it's safe to come home.

American Government, Lithuanian Style

My young adult son who is in college even though he has not actually graduated high school yet, is taking a Government class at the local community college. His Prof is Lithuanian. Seriously, with the accent and everything. Did I mention this is an American Government class? I’m assuming she’s an American citizen. I don’t know whether to be concerned or impressed. I mean, I’ve only ever lived in America. I went to American public schools all my life and I’m pretty darn sure I could not teach a Government class.

The interesting thing is Will’s reaction. He’s totally into it. He got his voter registration card in the mail yesterday and was positively gleeful (you know, as much as an 18 year old boy can be gleeful).

He’s started watching the BBC World news nightly and Glen Beck. (Hello dichotomy!) He’s always pausing the TV and yelling at me. “MOM! Did you hear that??? Did you HEAR that?” He’s incensed over the whole Obama health care thing. He is outraged that Obama is trying to get artists to create propaganda for him. He’s furious that Van Jones, the man appointed as “green jobs czar” is a self proclaimed communists.

Seriously, Will knows things that are going on in the Government right now that I don’t even care to know. He’s infuriated. Good for him. He’s young and new to all of this…the rest of us have moved from infuriated to exhausted. It really is like watching a train wreck. At first you can’t take your eyes off of it. You know what is going to happen, but you just can’t look away. But then, the wreck happens and there are all the flashing lights and chaos and they start pulling all the bloody, mangled bodies out of the wreckage and you move from not being able to look away to not being able to watch anymore.

Personally, I think that’s where most conservative Americans are right now. We simply can’t watch the massacre of our Government anymore. We’re covering our eyes and saying “tell me when it’s over”.

It was kinda refreshing to see the outrage of someone new and young and not yet jaded. He’s ready to pick up the fight while the rest of us are cowering in the corner with our fingers in our ears going “la la la la la” and waiting for the next election.