Teeth

Well, first of all Littleman has eight.  Teeth, I mean.  He gets them four at a time, which is symmetrical, but which makes for a frustrating few hours before Mama realizes, "oh! he's teething! again!"

Also, Buddy has this suspicious dark spot on his right premolar.  (See, I can learn a lot quickly when I get scared about my kids.  Instead of telling you to count two teeth over from your right canine, I learned the name.)  So he went to the dentist for the first time this morning--which means that Miss Boo, Littleman, and me all went, too.  Littleman rode on my back, Miss Boo felt grownup and important "reading" her magazine on a chair, and Buddy was squiggly until the dentist showed up with a scary headlamp, whereupon Buddy froze to the chair.  He didn't want to, but he did eventually open his mouth "wide like a dinosaur".

He was very brave.  It wasn't a cavity, praise the Lord! only a stain.  The dentist complimented our teeth and our cooperativeness, and looked at Miss Boo's teeth (also great) gratis, since she was begging to get in the chair.  It's nice to hear "keep doing what you've been doing, and swing by whenever you want if you think that spot's getting bigger".  I'm so glad we found this dentist--and he's a Gideon.

Gideon or no, however, it was an exhausting morning.  We've been playing with our prize (a dinosaur and one of those little mouth mirrors the dentist uses), and we also went grocery shopping.  So we conked out after lunch, watching Veggie Tales.  Mama isn't complaining.

She got up even before her brother, who had to be physically awakened.  She was the one who told me she wanted to rest.

The lot of an older sister is a difficult one.  It's hard work being in charge of everyone and everything.

Thoughtfully, even Littleman fell asleep.  I don't quite know what to do with myself.

(That's not quite true.  I'm going to knit, quick, before the kids wake up and realize what I'm doing.  That's one reason I'm not kicking this fugitive off the couch.  The other is that his shoulder's acting up again, and I don't have the heart.)

It's been a while since I gave you a T-tapp picture.  I haven't Tapped in 3 days, which means I'm due for it tomorrow, but it seems to work to slow down the number of workouts.  Well, judge for yourself. ;)

By the way, we've been doing this system since we discovered Bud's stain/cavity/whatever.  I really, really like the way it makes my teeth feel, and NO FLOSSING!  You might give it a try.  It's sure cheaper than fillings.  I didn't buy anything from the Zellies lady, by the way--just went to the store and got the mouthwashes and toothpaste, and Trident gum (which has xylitol in it).  I think you could get the CloSYS mouthwash at a drugstore like Walgreen's or CVS, but I ordered it from Amazon and got a good price.  (I also ordered some xylitol mints, for Buddy because I'm paranoid now, but I don't really think that's necessary.)

Cheers,

Breanna

(Littleman just woke up.  Knew that was too good to last.)

Stalling

Yeah.  We're alive.  We're just...having a busy few days.  I'll post pictures and another post soon.

Cheers,

Breanna

Drumming to Change the World

Now honestly when I started writing this post I was going to embed the video for this episode of South Park.  But I figure you might have kids in the room or be impressionable or maybe you don't know what kinds of things are usually on South Park.  So don't go to that video if you're not prepared to sit through a crass cartoon for the six seconds that I'm going to use to make my point.

Nevertheless, somehow the irreverent and crass creators of South Park occasionally absolutely nail an issue.

In this episode the town of South Park is invaded by a hippie music festival.  Some of the characters have become fed up with Corporations and Greed and such, and because the hippies say they are also fed up with it, the characters join in the festival.  Yah!  Fight the establishment!

Then they realize that they've just been playing music for nine days.  One of the boys says, "when are we going to DO something about the corporations?"  To which the hippies say, "he's right! play more music!"  And when the hippies describe their vision of the perfect society, the boys realize that it's exactly like the current society.

Lately there have been a number of Occupy protests, most famously on Wall Street but even in my smallish town in Texas.  None of them seem to possess anyone who can write, although they do have a heavy number of drum circles.

What disturbs me most about the Occupy movement--if you can apply the term "movement" to a group that mostly sits, messaging furiously on its phones--is not that they have no coherent core of ideas, no proposals for how to get their ideas, and no leaders/spokespersons.  It's their scorn and derisiveness of people who suggest they should have these things.

Here's my take on the whole issue.  Pretend I'm talking to an Occupant--who won't read this blog anyway, but whatever.

So you don't like corporations.  Fine.  But since my family gets fed because a corporation does business--this corporation also paves roads, builds houses, donates to charity, cleans up toxic waste, and gives its employees a benefits package that's nicer than they have to--you'd better explain to me what you're going to use to replace corporations in your perfect society.

It's all well and good to say that education and health care and enough to eat are human rights.  But as the mom who has to figure out for my own family education and health care and enough to eat, I know from personal experience that these things will not occur without someone working for them.  If I'm not to buy my food from a corporation--the grocery store who gets it from the industrial agriculture who grew it--then some of you will have to become full-time farmers who get dirty and sell me produce, for not very high wages.  If I'm not to get my healthcare from a corporation, then some of you will have to become doctors who don't make good salaries--the old-timey docs who make house calls and sometimes get paid in produce.  (Doctor was not considered a wealthy profession until the twentieth century.)  And I already don't get my kids's education from a corporation (or the government), but I can tell you that means that I have to spend my days with my kids, educating them, instead of sitting in drum circles planning a revolution or being a herbal health care provider who practices without corporate or government support.  Will MY voice be heard in your revolution?  Or do I not count because I'm not there?

If your answer to the above is "the government should pay for it as a way to take care of its citizens", then I would ask who you think the government is going to tax if we get rid of all corporations.  The farmer and the old-timey doc, who have very little actual cash?  Me, staying home and generating no taxable income?  You, in your drum circle?  Where is the government going to get the money?

"Just stop all the wars and then you'll have plenty of money."

Actually, reviewing history, every revolution I can find has started wars, not stopped them.  The Russian Revolution, for instance, stopped Russia's involvement in WWI (although you could debate that), but started a war between Red and White Russia that lasted for years longer and which killed MILLIONS OF PEOPLE.  The French Revolution culminated in anarchy so pervasive and so deadly that people found Napoleon and his series of conquests appealing.  The American Revolution caused a war that lasted four years.  The revolution in China is so notorious I really shouldn't have to mention it.

(And no, I don't count what Gandhi did in India as a revolution.  As someone whose name I can't remember right now pointed out, the only reason he succeeded was that he was dealing with the British, a basically democratic society.  If he'd been dealing with Russia at the time, they would simply have shot him.  End of peaceful resistance.  Gandhi didn't stage a revolution, he used the pathways of a democracy to leverage power--in exactly the way the pathways of democracy are designed to be used.  And you'll note that Gandhi had a clear idea of what he wanted and how to get it.  It's called "policy".)

At any rate, the idea that forcing the government to turn their attention from foreign to civil war will save money shows that nobody reads history anymore.

But in reality, I don't think that any of this argument is necessary.  Occupy isn't going to change anything, because they can't articulate what they want or how to get it.  Eventually the frustration is either going to build or dissipate.  We'll have violence or petering out, and it will end either in citizens getting disgusted with Occupy and locking them up or getting amused with Occupy and ignoring them in favor of the new Dancing With the Stars.  Someone (maybe me!) is going to point out HOW HYPOCRITICAL IT IS TO LASH OUT AT CORPORATIONS WHILE TEXT MESSAGING ON A PHONE PLAN THAT YOU BOUGHT FROM VERIZON WITH YOUR CEO PARENTS' MONEY.  The absurdity of it all will become apparent.

Or, you know, it will snow in New York and they will get cold and go home.

Either way, argument with these people is fruitless.  They would, I suspect, if you forced them to read this, tell me I am a corporate tool, or brainwashed, or racist, or sexist, or a pig, or dumb, or something, anything to avoid actually engaging with my perfectly fair point that I want my kids to eat.

I suspect our most logical response might be to hire Eric Cartman.

Cheers,

Breanna

Not Throwing A Fit

No, I haven't really got anything to throw a fit about.  I just spent some of yesterday in a vaguely irritated and pouty mode, which required me to concentrate on obeying the Lord, aka Not Throwing A Fit.

Because it would have been nice to throw a fit, honestly.  It would have felt good (for a minute) and it would have given me the backward satisfaction of making everyone else upset, too.

But it would have wrecked my reputation as someone who is Coping Well, not to mention that the Lord, although He gives us lots of options if we're not feeling happy, does not approve of us throwing fits.

So instead of Throwing A Fit I'm trying to deal with the situation by planning.  It's going to be me and the kiddos for at least three out of five dinners this week.  I could make them fun.  I could also, by trying to get to the park where we feed the ducks, ensure that the kids are worn out enough to go to bed shortly after, and then I might be able to knit in the evening.

Planning, and singing Scripture songs in my head mixed with ridiculous things like Backyardigans tunes and the "Can't Hug Every Cat" song I played for you on Friday whenever I get on a pouty loop in my thinking.  Whatever works, right?

(And I should point out that it isn't that I have so many more opportunities for self-denial than your average mommy.  I'm pretty sure that no matter where I live or what we have or who I have to deal with, I would still be tempted on a regular basis to Throw A Fit.  We all are--it's our basic human reaction to things we don't like.)

What tempts you to Throw A Fit?

Cheers,

Breanna

Doubt

I hesitate to mention that I am writing a book along the lines of this blog.  As in, ramblings about motherhood, housekeeping and faith.  I hesitate because I don't know how long it will take me or if, indeed, anyone will want it.  But I am just putting it out there for you--if you would buy (probably for like 99 cents on Kindle) a book of devotions etc. by me, then maybe you'd let me know?  So I won't feel like it's a silly thing for me to try to do?

So today I read a friend's blog post on how she gets nervous when showing her writing to others, and self-doubtful.  And I've also been talking to someone else who's been experiencing a wave of self-doubt, and I got to thinking about patterns in my own life.

See, when I was in college I used to have this recurring dream/daydream/feeling that there was, somehow, a class I had forgotten about.  Like a whole class.  I went to the first few lectures (in my mind), then forgot about it and only discovered that I should have been attending right before finals.  In my dream I would then try to cram a whole semester of learning into the day before finals.

This is funny because I never did anything remotely like that.  I tended to have all my assignments done ahead of time, and I graduated with a 4.0 GPA.

Later, when I was a nurse, I'd have dreams that I'd forgotten to record a narcotic dose (which I'd also forgotten to give to the patient).  Or I'd be sure that somehow, I'd mortally offended a doctor who would be lobbying for my dismissal.

Again, funny.  I made a grand total of three medication errors in my career, none of them serious, and one of them only about bookkeeping.  When I left the job at which I would get nervous about angry doctors, all of the doctors asked me to please remember them if I ever wanted to come back.

It was at this last job where I finally realized what was going on: I was being attacked.  Hoodwinked.  Tempted.

Some days I would feel great about my job--as I should have.  It was a really good job.  Good pay, friendly colleagues, nice boss, good facility.  Other days, when nothing had changed, I would feel horrible about my job.  I'm not talking about the kind of day that you sometimes have in healthcare when a patient dies, or when there is something that you can't fix.  I mean literally that I'd feel good on Monday and bad on Tuesday.

When it occurred to me that nothing had changed in the interval of feeling good and feeling bad, my mind (it turns slowly on these things) began to tick.  And I understood that if nothing's changed, then suddenly feeling despair about my job was a Lie.  And if it is a Lie, it's not from God.  It's also probably not just a problem I have, me being a Despair-er.

Because I have an Adversary who doesn't want me to be happy or effective at anything I do, he would come along and whisper things in my ear like "I bet Dr. Soandso really was ticked off about your mistake today.  Yeah, you'll probably get fired."  These things weren't true.  They were a temptation to doubt.

It was amazing, once I figured this out, how such moments vanished.  All it took was a few times of, when the thoughts would come into my head, saying "No.  That's not true.  Lord, thank You for my job.  I trust You to handle it.  Please help me reject these thoughts."

Eventually those thoughts about my job almost ceased.

Lately the Enemy has been trying the same thing with regard to my children.  It's easy as a mom to focus on all the things you're doing wrong: soandso isn't potty trained, we haven't been faithful about early reading, we don't have family devotions with anything like regularity, and, on bad days, I'm sure my kids will become foul-mouthed gangbangers whose idea of a spiritual experience is to join the Rainbow Family.

(My opinion of the Rainbows is colored somewhat by the fact that the year they had their Gathering in my home state, the Park Service had to spend a month cleaning up after them because of "illegal shelters and all the human excrement" left in the campgrounds.)

Really nothing much changes between Monday, when I feel good about my mothering skills--teach reading, and make really good meatloaf--and Tuesday, when I feel horrible about my mothering skills--snip gum out of hair and make frozen, dinosaur-shaped chicken nuggets.  If I can keep in mind what I've learned about two other endeavors in my life when I was trying to do something very important, I'll realize that what I'm dealing with are not legitimate feelings.

Because it isn't really self-doubt.  It's doubting the Lord.  He's the one who's given me this tribe of rampaging proto-hippies who disdain clothing and want to eat raw bacon.  He doesn't ask me to do impossible things.  But He does expect me to use the enabling that only He can give me.

So, as I have never yet forgotten a class, taken home a dose of a patient's medication, or (my latest) forgotten a child at the store, I will trust in the Lord to make sure that doesn't happen.

What are you trusting Him about today?

Cheers,

Breanna

No Kids - Cats

Because it's Friday (insert guy singing "FRIIIIIIIDAA!" here in a falsetto), and I haven't taken any good pictures lately, but I promise I will.

Anyway I thought you might need to laugh.  Or love cats.  Or know someone who loves cats.

Or maybe I'm mocking people who love cats too much.  You'll have to interpret that for yourself.  It's, like, existential.

Cheers,

Breanna

October Already

I have noticed a trend, around the Interweb, of people being astonished that it's October.  Me too.  And not least because I planted pansies in my front flowerbed today.  Because that's what people DO in Texas--they don't have frost here!  At least, not until like December or January.  I can't quite wrap my mental processes around it.

Meanwhile (yesterday), the kiddos and Daddy were playing an MMO.  (Lord of the Rings Online, if you want to know.  Miss Boo has her own character, a girl she designed herself that spends a lot of time jumping in place and getting stuck against walls and behind trees.)  Miss Boo is directing her Daddy to fight the "wolves, bears, bad pigs, even lions" in the game.  Those bad pigs (wild boars, I think they're supposed to be) are her favorite enemies in the game.

(Go Razorbacks?)

Buddy is not as thrilled with the activity since he's not allowed to hit buttons.  He just likes sitting with Daddy.

Although the adventures of Miss Boo's twitchy, wall-bound character do interest him sometimes.

She's actually fairly competent at navigating, except she hits the map view key all the time, so her character dies.

A lot.

She doesn't care.  She has a lot of fun just watching the backdrops.

And, of course, playing with Daddy.  That's the main thing.

Daddy, who could be leveling up his own character, is very patient.

This? Oh, this is what Mama has been doing.  Note the shopping list and the unpaid bills in the corner?  Yeah.  I gotta get to those tonight.  And I have to restrain myself from dinking around with the novel any more tonight. I'm not exactly sure what's going to happen between now and the next big event, which is... tricksy.

Meanwhile, this morning, we were invaded by Pirates in their Bathing Trunks, who threw legos all around the living room.

There were also girl pirates, who put their swimsuits on over their clothes in what I can only assume was a subconscious bid to go swimming.  But alas, it's just a bit too chilly for swimming.  Also, swimming outside is a pain, and since Mama had to get up at 5:30 with bouncy children this morning, Mama's patience wasn't up for it.

Pumpkin-Pecan-Cranberry bread.  Oh yeah.  It's as yummy as it sounds.

See?  (America's Test Kitchen Family Cookbook.  Buy it.  Everything--absolutely everything--I've ever cooked out of that book has worked perfectly the first time and has tasted fabulous.  But what would you expect from a cookbook whose recipe, for instance, for mashed potatoes calls for a cup of heavy cream?)

This is Jambalaya from the same cookbook.  (Also excellent, although I didn't have any shrimp--just sausage.)  Miss Boo, when she saw what I was cooking, began singing "Jambalaya and a pumpkin pie on the bayou..."  Which makes me think I ought to watch what I sing around the house.

He liked the pumpkin bread.

It was mostly what he had for dinner.

She asked for regular bread and butter instead, because she said that the nuts in the pumpkin bread would hurt her stomach.  She ate the butter off the bread like cheese.

I gave her some more butter.  It was pretty much all she ate for dinner, having filled up on dried cranberries earlier.

He wanted pumpkin bread, but did not get any.

Because even with four teeth, we tend to choke on stuff.

We don't really believe Mama when she says that something is a choking hazard.

We think she's holding out because, perhaps, she wants all the choking hazards to herself.  Because she's selfish with danger like that.

But we try to have some understanding for her.  Mama tries her best, even though she is rather easily fuddled.

His male model pose.

Guess what was going on while I was making this post?  Yep, a boy who is not wanting to admit that it's bedtime.  I'd better go help with that.

Cheers,

Breanna