Before a trip...

At our house, asking a child to do a chore somehow stimulates their bladder.

"I...have to go potty first!" they'll say.

And then I'll say something like, "Well, good thing I ask you to help out around the house, otherwise you'd never remember to go potty!"

*****

This is like that but it's like "good thing we send these kids on trips, otherwise we'd never take care of them."

I jest, of course...but this morning as we took Benjamin off to the doctor to finally fish a splinter out of his finger (that he got at YM camp the first week of June, wouldn't let me pull out, and assured me it would work its way out on its own...only to come to me the other day with a swollen, pussy finger...as if I'm the one who should have been keeping track of it all summer) so that it could be healing instead of festering while he's on his trip, I couldn't help laugh. 

We've taken Miriam to the urgent care twice before a big trip—once for a broken arm and once for an illness. 

It's not precisely that we plan these things, but it might seem like we only take them to urgent care immediately before sending them on a trip.

Here's Benjamin getting ready for exploratory...digging about:

Tip Toe Injury

I'm not saying that I'm better than everyone because I didn't get antibiotics, but I am going to say that whatever illness we had this summer was a doozy. And I didn't get antibiotics.

I was violently coughing for a month. But I didn't use antibiotics to help me get better.

I think antibiotics are useful—a miracle, even! 

When we put Alexander...and then Phoebe...on antibiotics for their double ear infections this summer they immediately (within 24 hours) started to feel better. And their ears cleared up. And they went back to being bright and happy children who could hear and everything. 

A miracle of modern medicine. 

Miriam got sick the same time I did, like...really sick. Everyone got sick in early June. But Miriam and I got really sick. And then everyone got better...except for Miriam and me. And we took Miriam to the doctor to see if she could get some help kicking this bug because she had her trip to the UK she wanted to be healthy for. They decided it sounded like a viral infection that had perhaps turned bacterial (I understand that a virus can't turn into a bacteria, but a bacterial infection is not uncommon to encounter after a viral infection), they put her on antibiotics...and she started feeling better. 

And then Phoebe and Alexander got really sick while the girls were in Europe, I believe. 

And then Rachel and Andrew got sick after they got back from Europe. Or Rachel did. And then Zoë and Benjamin got sick...right before their county meet. And then Andrew got sick. 

I don't remember when everyone got sick. I was a mess taking everyone (except Benjamin) to the doctor...one by one...as they fell like flies. 

"And when did their symptoms begin?"

"Right...so...let's see...it must have been...uhhhh..."

Look—I didn't know there'd be a quiz! 

(I have calendaring issues!)

All I knew is that we had been sick for forever. And that we waited so long to take Alexander and Phoebe in that the doctor gave me stink eye about them both having double ear infections (which aren't even contagious, but I think this virus just caused a lot of blockage in the sinus region that their little ears couldn't even handle—plus I don't even know why she was so miffed about it because we brought Phoebe and Alexander in together initially...and Alexander had visible infection in both ears and Phoebe had fluid—not infected—which turned into an ear infection over the weekend...so we ended up having to bring her in twice...which meant double the co-pay...). When Zoë started complaining about her ears I took her in right away—no infection. Whatever. 

And then Rachel eventually went in because she had had a bad sinus infection at the beginning of the year and the doctor was like, "Why did you wait so long to come in?"

And antibiotics helped her...but I think Andrew went in before Rachel so...

I'm not really clear on things. Benjamin got super sick and even threw up...but then got better really fast. 

And just when we thought everyone had been through it...Miriam got super sick again. 

That had me really worried that I was going to get sick again as well and I was was almost crying thinking about it because I had only just stopped coughing when she got sick a second time. But so far, so good. 

My whole theory is just that because I was so sick for so long, my body was creating a ton of antibodies so I had longer immunity to whatever this thing was...and Miriam (who had used outside help fighting this illness) caught it again when she was exposed to it because she didn't have to make as many antibodies herself. 

But I am not an immunologist, so I could have this all wrong.

Whatever the case, we're all mostly healthy. Andrew is still coughing a bit. 

And...I mentioned an adventure with the fire alarm the night before Zoë's county swim meet...well, let me briefly tell you that story: the fire alarm in our bedroom went off in the middle of the night.

These fire alarms are touchy. 

Say less

The other night I was talking to Andrew as he was brushing his teeth. 

I cannot even remember what I was talking about. But I said something that merited a response so he mumbled through his toothbrush something that sounded like, "Say less."

Now, taken literally, "say less" could be a polite (?) way of telling someone they're talking too much. 

This may have well been the case that evening. 

But, "say less" is also slang for "yes, absolutely, we're on the same page."

This may also have been the case that evening. 

But, "say less" isn't really something Andrew says very often because (1) he doesn't typically tell me to stop talking (he just endures it) and (2) he's a middle-aged man (sorry, but it's true) who doesn't use a lot of today's slang, so it wasn't very probable that he would say "say less" to me in conversation (unironically). 

I decided to wait until he had finished brushing to circle back on whatever it was I had needed a response about. He clarified his response. I cannot remember what it was (but he definitely agreed with me).

I think we were probably (maybe?) talking about swim team tryouts, come to think of it, because those are this week. And because I remember that we were trying to make a somewhat important decision...but I can't remember what decision it was because we successfully made it and got it squared away on the calendar. So I can't remember what it was...only that it was. 

Whatever it was—we handled it. Like the mature adults that we are.

Anyway, once we got his actual response squared away (and I put whatever we decided on the calendar so I could evidently completely block it from my actual brain), I told him, "At first I thought you said, 'Say less,' and I was like, 'Who do you think you are—my editor?'"

What a shock!

At three-and-a-half, Phoebe is still fronting all (or most) of her /k/ and /g/ sounds. 

I've been working with her, but she is...less easy...to work with than Alexander (who had the same problem). I showed him "One Cool Trick" (holding down the front of his tongue while he made /k/ sounds to prevent him from using the tip of his tongue to say /t/ instead) and he "Understood The Assignment" (that is, he voluntarily began to use his finger whenever he needed to say /k/). 

"I wanna bite!" he'd say. 

"You want a bite?" I'd repeat. 

"No! I wanna biiiiiiKe," he'd say, sticking his little finger on his tongue at just the right moment to make that /k/.

And then eventually we prompted him to say it without his finger in his mouth and—presto!—the boy had /t/ and /k/ figured out (and everyone could understand him much better). 

I've been trying this with Phoebe but she puts her finger in her mouth and then still uses the tip of her tongue to make a /t/ sound. And when I have her try it with my finger in her mouth she either gags or bites me, which is...neat.

We have been making slow progress and she even will sometimes naturally say /k/ in phrases like "Thank you." Really anything that has a /kju/ sound in the middle...she can say /k/ then. So I know it's possible for her to make that sound. 

But I am personally highly motivated to help her figure out at least that distinction by the time she has her next well-child visit because our doctor (1) does not really like the idea of homeschooling and (2) was super concerned that Phoebe's language is behind because she probably doesn't ever get to talk to anyone outside of our family and so we simply haven't noticed that's she's unintelligible. 

And I was like, "Weird, because objectively—as a linguist—I am zero percent worried about her speech at this point. And she actually does speak to people outside of our immediate family. And they do understand her (sometimes) and, honestly, compared to the other three-year-olds in her church class...she is rocking the whole language development scene."

And I'm just a little bit not interested in figuring out speech therapy...so I told the doctor we'd just work on it at home. Because I'm a linguist (because, well, I'm a linguist). 

And I fixed Alexander. What would be so different about Phoebe?

Well...the fact that she's...Phoebe. 

Phoebe is lovely, but she's got a little more...spunk...than Alexander had at that age. 

Not only will she gag or bite me—she'll flat out tell me no. 

(Weird, right?)

Pelican's in Georgia

It has been years since we've been to Pelican's!

We went on a family adventure on Thursday (which I will write about eventually) and there was a Pelican's right across the street! Who knew? 

Packing up for college

Rachel's room is just about packed up. She's got a pile of boxes/stuff to take to college, a pile of boxes/stuff to put in the storage room, and a suitcase to live out of for the next few days. 

The kids are all anxious about her leaving—excited to take over her space and scared about how much they're going to miss her.

Things are tense, but sometimes better when Andrew's working with her than when I am. When Andrew's down there he and Rachel and Miriam tend to laugh and joke. When I'm down there we all tend to break down sobbing together. 

It's fine. 

Vacuum packing things is incredible. We put Rachel's entire dresser in one bag and shrunk it down to a little slab of clothing. We put all of her bedding in another bag, sucked all the air out, and now it's completely portable. Same thing with her closet. 

Poison Ivy thoughts

This post is just to say that we're reading a book where the parents are, like, amazing zoo-running, animal-keeper, veterinarian-type people, who are so invested in their zoo and their creatures that they seem to neglect their own child.

In the scene we just read, the child describes how some workers in the zoo made a pile of brush—that included a fair amount of poison ivy—and when they burned the pile of brush the child came in contact with the smoke and started having a fairly intense allergic reaction.

His mother reached for the Benadryl, he tells readers, but then started thinking about all the animals that may have come in contact with the smoke, and ran off to sound the alarm and assemble all the animal caretakers to attend to their assigned creatures, leaving the poor little boy to measure and administer his own medicine. 

Poor boy.

But 'cept! 

Two beautiful moments to bookend my day

While I was still in bed this morning, Benjamin came into my room—dressed for working out—and asked me if I wanted to go for a run with him before the day got too hot. 

To think I used to have to bribe him to run with me!

Of course I had to say yes!

While we were out, I told him that soon he won't want to run with me because he'll think I'm too slow for him. But right now—in this moment—we make a good little team. 

It was still hot. And so humid—ridiculously humid. 

So we ran two miles. And chatted. And called it good. 

It was delightful.

*****

Phoebe just got out of bed a little while ago, all on her own.

I heard her jiggling the bathroom door, so I looked over (I can see the bathroom from my desk) and saw her standing there, fiddling with her pyjamas. 

I got up to help her and she held up her hand to stop me.

"I just can do it myself!" she whispered. 

Rachel's 18!

Last month the ward choir sang on my birthday and this month we sang on Rachel's birthday. That means that (1) we get to sing, which is always fun and (2) we don't have afternoon practice, and it's kind of nice to get to have the rest of the day at home after church.

Rachel, Miriam, and Benjamin had a youth meeting after church, though, so they ended up coming home separately from the rest of us, anyway. And they brought Andie over to play games. 

Soon after Andie left, Grandpa and Darla arrived for dinner. Andrew and Benjamin had spent the entire afternoon making orange chicken (which was a whole lot of work, but which was also delicious). After dinner we opened presents, played Swoop (a game Grandpa and Darla played a lot on their cruise/bike trip through Europe this summer), and then had cake.

It was a very low-key birthday. Rachel also planned a few game nights around but not on her birthday so that she could hang out with friends but not have them do anything embarrassing like sing to her.

Here she is opening her gifts, which were all things for living on her own—a dough whisk...

Triangles

The other day we were practicing drawing triangles (because Phoebe struggles with triangles and anything triangular...like the letter A, for example). I put three dots on the page for her and she practiced connecting the dots, resting her felt pen between strokes to get a nice angle in there. 

It's a work in progress. 

Sometimes she's really into practicing her writing and sometimes she's not. On this particular day she was a little not into it and I asked her why and she told me that triangles are useless because they aren't people and she just wants to learn how to draw people. 

Fair. 

So I turned one of my triangles into a little girl by adding a circle for a head and little stick arms and legs and...she was very impressed and drew one of her own. 

And then decided giving a hand-drawn person a body and a head felt like too much work and defaulted to her favourite "hody" form where the head is the body and the body is the head: