Another Nasty Poop Story

You've been warned. Read on at your own peril.

My loyal readers may still be trying to block out the memory of the first nasty poop story. I promise this one is not quite so nasty as that one, but it happened in public, which made it more complicated in a lot of ways.

Wednesday evening I took the girls to Chick-fil-a, as usual. I had been watching Little Girl like a hawk all day, looking for signs of her needing to make a BM, since she hadn't had one the day before. She was in panties, which is a big deal to her, since they feel so much better than the bargain pull-ups I buy now. After she finished eating, I noticed she needed to go potty, so I took her to the restroom, and she went #1. That was good. Lots of praise. She's still not too comfortable doing that in a public restroom (I don't really like it either, but you gotta do what you gotta do, right?). She was finished eating, had been potty, and was released to go play in the play area.

Yeah, by now you're already there. You know what she did. Yeah, she did it in her panties. At Chick-fil-a.

I went into the play area to help her get her shoes on, since it was time to leave. Little Girl innocently said to me, "Stinky. Do you smell that?" And I knew. I just knew. She did it, and didn't let me discover it until it was time to leave. We needed to be at church in less than 10 minutes.

I found a Chick-fil-a employee and asked for some disposable gloves, which he graciously gave to me without really knowing why I wanted them. I took Little Girl into the restroom, put the gloves on my hands, and reached into the back of her pants and pulled out her turd and dropped it into the potty (thankfully it held together pretty well). (I warned you this story was nasty!!) I immediately threw away those gloves, and put the third one on my hand (why did I grab three, I don't know, but it worked out pretty well), and wiped her bottom with toilet paper as best I could. She went to AWANA that night with skid-marked panties. And I didn't really care.

I still maintain that the original poop story is way nastier than this one. Now I want this one to be the LAST poop story. Think that'll happen? Here's hoping!

Busy, But Good

In my last post about obligations, I did say that there are optional obligations, and when those things that I signed up for start to overwhelm me, I have no right to complain because I signed up for the commitment. Well, just so you know, I'm not going to complain. I'm just gonna explain why blogging has been such a low priority for me this week.

Today is day 4 out of 5 days in a row with somewhere I have to be in the evening. Two of those (Tues & Thurs) were choir rehearsals from 7:00 PM- 10:00 PM, which means that I'm not worth much the day after. Wednesday night was the usual church stuff, but we stayed a little later than usual because I'm singing this week. Then tonight and tomorrow night are choir concerts. I am actually looking forward to these concerts, but they don't start until 8:00 PM. Maybe I'm just getting old or something, but that feels late, just typing it even, to me.

On a wonderful note, I have been doing a lot of soul-searching about my obligations, and the things that are beneficial for me to do, but which are not obligations. These things include prayer and on-my-own bible study. I usually fall into "checking off a box" mentality when I get into a groove with doing that sort of thing, and this time, since my recent realization of NOT being obligated to it, I am on guard against legalism creeping in. I don't earn a gold star from God for doing it. I don't get to work up to "super-saint status" or anything. That kind of thinking is what the enemy wants. God doesn't have anything BUT favorite children. He loves me. He loves that I want to know him, but it doesn't make Him love me more. None of this is new revelation. It's just refreshed revelation for me right now. There's plenty of scripture about no longer being enslaved to sin, and God's love being unconditional and all that.

With the focus of the retreat last weekend being Psalm 37:4, I've been doing a concordance study on music, a big-time desire of my heart. Every time the word music (or musicians) shows up in the bible, I'm looking up the passage and studying it. It's rather interesting. I can't say that I've learned anything new from it, but God has confirmed things I already knew, and made them fresh again. I think next I'll study the songs in the bible. (Now I'm feeling pressure for putting that out there... I didn't say that I'd do it for sure. I just said I think... that means maybe. I may go another direction after this, I don't know... Stop looking at me like that!)

I think by the grace of God alone I have been going through this incredibly busy week, which included another ARD for Big Girl, laundry day, exercising twice, and a particular challenging situation with Little Girl (including another poop story- I'll get to it in another post), without feeling overwhelmed. Yes, it's been busy. But I've still cooked dinner 3 times this week, I haven't been snapping at the children, I have taken time out to spend with an old friend (she's not old- we've been friends for a LONG time), and it's been a good week. I don't take credit for this, because I know in my own power, I would have ordering pizza, and yelling like a crazed woman, and late for the ARD, and falling through on my commitments to people, and I'd be in a rotten, funky, fleshy mood to top it all off. I've been there before. I know what it's like. This is different, and I thank God for it.

I've got bits and pieces of Pinkham's Wedding Cantata in my head. It's on the program tonight. It's 4 settings of excerpts from Song of Solomon. Good stuff. Good, high brow stuff.

Obligations

In the last week or so, I've been thinking a lot about the things and/or people to which/whom I am obligated. My initial thoughts were centered around a friendship in which I felt obligation being forced on me. I bucked under that pressure, and I think it was appropriate.

The people I am obligated to are family. The nature of friendship is that it is a completely voluntary arrangement. A marriage begins with choice, and from the moment vows are spoken, obligation takes over, although it is a welcome and foreseen obligation. We are always obligated to honor our parents as it says in the "Big Ten", and then again in Ephesians 6:1. (I had to memorize that one as a little kid, and I was asked to repeat it nearly every time I disobeyed growing up. I said it a lot.) Children are kind of a no-brainer obligation. Not that fulfilling that obligation is a no-brainer, just that it's an easy given that parents are forever tied to their kids, and obliged to take care of them until they can take care of themselves. And even then I think parents, good ones anyway, remain obligated to their kids' well-being, as mentors and even friends, forever.

There are numerous other things to which I have found myself obligated. Until the end of this school year, I'm obligated to the duties of homeroom mom for Big Girl's class. I am commited to participating in the choir of which I am a member. Those are both things I volunteered for, so if I am frustrated or overwhelmed with the obligation, it's my own fault. (I'm not complaining here, I'm just thinking it all through, and bringing my reader along.)

This weekend at the ladies' retreat I attended, the theme verse was Psalm 37:4, "Delight yourself in the Lord and He will give you the desires of your heart." This is a conditional promise. God does not say that you get the desires of your heart just because you want them badly enough, or because you're good enough, or because you work hard enough. You get them when you delight in Him. And then the key to whole thing is that the desires of your heart morph into complete harmony with the desires of His heart as you delight in Him more and more. And THEN He gives you the desires of your heart which are the same as the desires of His heart. I've known this concept for a long time, but I think I've really struggled with believing it.

I guess I've kind of always thought in the very back of my head that God's desires for me were going to be less than my desires, or that I'd be settling with whatever He has for me. That thinking of mine is complete rubbish, I know. But it explains my behavior, why I'd hear the truth of Psalm 37:4 with my eyes rolling.

I've been looking at the delighting in the Lord part as an obligation. But the truth is that it is not an obligation. God doesn't force me to sit as His feet and seek His face. He doesn't force me to take the time to sit and listen to His heart, or pour over His word for a fresh nugget of truth. There is no obligation there. It's a completely free choice. Not doing it does have a consequence, but God will still love me, and I'll still go to heaven.

The truth is that by NOT doing what I know I should do, I am forfeiting the fulfillment of the desires of my heart. I am choosing to settle for less than the utmost best thing. God wants to give me what I want, but He won't give it to a disobedient child who isn't ready for it.

This morning at church, our worship leader said something that really jumped out an hit me over the head (figuratively, of course). He said a little prayer during the instrumental break in the song, "I Am Free". He thanked God that we are no longer under obligation to the sinful nature. He actually said the word obligation. It stuck out to me like nothing else could in that moment.

I have been acting as though I am obligated to my sin nature, when I am not at all. I have thought of following God as an obligation, when it isn't one either. It's my choice.

Oh Father God, please forgive me. Thank you for this refreshing revelation. Please let me live like I understand what you've shown me in the last few days.

Dentist Update

I didn't get a chance to update my blog last night... I'm running around like a crazy lady (so what else is new, right?).

I didn't end up having any dental work done yesterday. Based on my pain symptoms I described, and the fact that there isn't any corresponding decay that the dentist could see, she referred me to an endontist. I have a "pulp horn" which means the pulp in my tooth, where the nerve is, goes up higher than it's supposed to in the front half of the hurting tooth. The back part of the hurting tooth is broken, and I was afraid that what I'm feeling is a cavity that had taken hold in the vulnerable area that is not sealed up because of the break. (The break doesn't hurt, and it hasn't hurt since it happened. I found the broken tooth with my tongue.)

The dentist thinks that this tooth has been traumatized by chewing. My jaw sits crooked in my head, with the left side higher than the right. It makes sense that it would get a rougher impact with every bite and chewing motion I take. This has nothing to do with the broken part at all.

So I still have a toothache.

At least she prescribed me some Xanex to take before I have to go to the endontist and then back to her for the crown. I won't have to freak out so much. She also gave me some pain meds to take in the interim until I can get the root canal done, and some antibiotic in case it's an infection causing me the pain.

This is no fun.

As if that weren't enough, this morning I was walking home from taking Big Girl to school, and I ran a little, and pulled a muscle in my thigh. At first I thought it was a cramp, but it still hurts hours later, but only when I try to do anything requiring that muscle to work. I can't lift my leg without a sharp pain, unless I do the lifting with my arms or my other leg.

I get to take my gimpy, toothachy self to a ladies' reatreat tonight.

I have Maroon 5's, Songs About Jane in my head today. That's what I listened to while I was in the dentist's chair for an hour yesterday. I was there a whole hour, and she only poked around my mouth for less than 2 minutes, and did another x-ray. A whole stinking hour.

Dentist

I have known for a while that I need some dental work done. I have been putting off for the purpose of saving about $400-$500. Under our current DMO, this is all going to cost around $900. If we were under the PPO, it would be more like $400-$500. That's a big enough savings for me to want to wait a while and see how I do for 7 months.

Unfortunately I can wait no longer.

If you are a faithful reader, you know of my abhorrence of all things dentistry. I don't even like teeth. (It's growing, I know.) It seems like my past dentistry-related experiences (kid's dentist, and my own) and aversion to pain have culminated in this nearly crippling fear.

Last week, even before TMEA, I was keenly aware of my broken tooth in a way that I hadn't been before. Then as the week progressed, the sensation grew more unpleasant, and then last night I couldn't lay my head on that side to go to sleep. It's still a dull ache, but enough for me to know that I must act now. It will only get worse.

This week already had enough in it without adding this dumb dentist appointment.

Tuesday I kept my burned friend's little boy. Yesterday I made a meal for a friend at church who has had some heart trouble (it's kind of scary because she's so young), and tomorrow I have to take Big Girl to OT, and then go immediately to a ladies' retreat for church in which I have been helping with registration.

In the mean time, I think it's my brain's self-preservation kicking in, I have been inspired to take on another project for my home. I have had an idea of what I want to do with the windows in our informal dining area (our only dining area since the formal dining room is our office). I went out with my day off (MUCH NEEDED TIME ALONE), and shopped for fabric. Then I scanned the chosen fabric swatch (on which Hubby and I agreed), and made this:


I just love what I can do with photoshop...

I've had the songs from Choral Arts in my head. We've got a concert next week, and it's a lovely program including Brahms Liebeslieder, Pinkham's Wedding Cantata, Britten's Wedding Anthem, Three Scottish Folksongs arranged by Wilberg, and my favorite, Three Madrigals by Emma Lou Diemer. The madrigals are settings of 3 Shakespeare poems. The third one is "Sigh no more, laides, sigh no more!" which is set to music in the Kennth Branaugh movie, "Much Ado About Nothing." It took a little while for my brain to replace the movie version of that song with the one we're singing. Ours is very quirky and fun. It's a fixture in my head, probably more permanent than my teeth.

TMEA

Last week, for the first time since 2002, I was able to attend the TMEA convention in San Antonio. It was fantastic!

There are several things about TMEA that make it wonderful. There are workshops given by some of the most amazing teachers on the planet, and there's so much to learn from them. There are also concerts nearly around the clock of fantastic choirs of all ages (bands and orchestras too, but I don't care about those so much). The exhibit halls bigger than football fields with all kinds of instruments, music, music toys, food (for fundraisers), and all kinds of things that you would and would not expect. But the absolute best part of TMEA is running into people you know.

I saw my choir director from college, the professor I worked for my junior year for my scholarship, the choir director I student taught for, my voice teacher and Music Ed professor, the elementary music coordinator for the district I hope to teach for again (good networking!!), and some friends. I saw my voice student from 2001-2002. She was a high school senior that year. She's now an elementary music teacher in the district where I taught. (Oh, I feel so old!)

I also saw Susan, and spent most of Friday wtih her. Susan was my children's choir director when I was a kid. She also taught a recorder class when I was in elementary school over one summer. I think that probably had something to do with me playing clarinet in middle school and high school. She and I were in a big production at church when I was a 6th grader, and we had a duet. (She played Mary in that show for a few years in a row, and I'd always see her with a pillow in her clothes, pretending to be pregnant for the show. I was really confused by that, and thought she had more kids than she actually does.) After I went off to college and came back, she and I along with another friend formed a little trio and sang for church somewhat regularly. We did "Boogie Woogie Bugle Boy" for our seniors group. We also did a number in a Christmas pageant where we were in 40's get-up all the way down to stockings with the seam up the back. I taught children's choir along side her for a couple years too. She's been a special person in my life for a long time. It was great to be able to go to workshops and concerts with her. What a blessing!

The song in my head is "Magic Man" by Heart.

A "My Baby Is Growing Up" Moment

Earlier today, I asked Little Girl to turn a light off, and for the first time ever, she was able to reach the light switch on her own without getting a step-stool. She was on her tippy-toes, reaching it with the tips of her fingers, but she still did it. I wasn't ready for the sadness that came with that little event. She's growing up more and more all the time.

From Laziness Comes... Creativity?

I know my daughter on the autistic spectrum would not have been able to write her name on 20 valentines unless we had started last week, and had her write a few a day. It's already too late for that with the party being on Friday of this week, and me going out of town Thursday. I'd have to have her get it done by tomorrow, and that's not going to happen at this point. And I really don't care to write her name for her 20 times on little cards that will be tossed in the trash as the kids sort through which valentines are candy and which ones aren't. All these things were going through my mind as I shopped the seasonal aisle at the grocery store earlier today, browsing the valentines and candy.

What I can I do that would be EASY?

AHA!

Being the homeroom mom, as I have mentioned before, I have a database with all the kids in Big Girl's class, their parents' names, phone numbers, e-mail addresses, etc. I can make labels from this database with very little effort, which will include "Happy Valentine's Day, 'So-and-so'! From 'Big Girl'" and stick them to the sticks of lollipops like little flags.

And that's what I did. That took me maybe 15 minutes.

Hooray for technology! Hooray for lazy creativity!

Valentine's Party... Already??

It seems like it's been no time at all since the last time I had to put on my "homeroom mom" hat and get a party together. The "Winter Party" was a total success, less than 2 months ago. As if that weren't recent enough, LAST WEEK the class had a huge big deal about the 100th day of school, and I had to get the class parents to bring in a bunch of stuff for the kids to count (cereal, buttons, stickers, pretzels, etc...).

Just when I'm needed as homeroom mom, I have a wonderful diversion set up for me. The TMEA convention is this week, and I get to go! I used to go every year from the time I was a senior in high school up until 2002. Then in October of 2002, I became a mother. So from 2003-2008 I was not able to go. This is the first time I've got everything set up so that I can go, and I am so excited.

It would just happen that both of these things would be at the same time.

But there' s no way I'm skipping 2 days at TMEA this year just because of a 1 hour Kindergarten party.

Because of my divided attentions, I failed to send out the "calling all volunteers" e-mail to the class parents until today. Oops. I hope they come through anyway!

And now to make that dumb valentines box. You know the one- with a slit and my kid's name on it... Oh, and to have Big Girl sign 20 valentines for her classmates. That will be "fun". My guess is that she'll do 3 before she says she can't do anymore.

My Poor Friend

I have a wonderful friend who has been a special person in my life for the better part of 8 years. She and I were pregnant together with our second children, 2 months and a day apart. She was the one who kept my Big Girl when my Little Girl was born, and she kept my Little Girl when my father-in-law died. She's always been there for me in a BIG way.

This past Saturday, as she was preparing to cook some french fries for her family for lunch, she had a grease fire in her apartment. At first the pan was just very smoky, and she tried to take it outside. On her way to the only door out of the apartment, it burst into flames. The door was locked, and she tried to unlock the door, meanwhile, her right hand and forearm were burning. She couldn't get the door unlocked quickly enough, and she dropped the pan. For a moment, the entry hall was all flames from the falling pan of burning grease. Both her feet and legs were burned from the splatter. When firefighters and paramedics came, her husband had already put the fire out, but they did take her to the hospital to treat her burns. Today she had another appointment to find out what the treatment plan will be. If it's bad enough for a skin graft, that's BAD news. But either way, it's going to be a tough road to recovery for her. In the mean time, she has no real use of her right hand. I went over there yesterday to help out. I made lunch for her family, tried to teach her husband how to put her hair in a pony tail, typed some e-mails for her, just anything I could do for her while I was there. The worst of it is that they're planning to move out of town at the end of the month. I was already pretty bummed about them moving away, but now to have this happen just before... Maybe she'll have to come back to town for on-going treatment. That wouldn't be so bad. I'd love to have house-guests!

This weekend my dad mentioned Billy Joel's "And So It Goes," so that song immediately jumped into my head. The version of that song I carry in my head is the King's Singers arrangement as recorded by the group I was in back in college, One Voice. Memories...

A Blissful Cadence

Just in case I have any readers out there who have been hanging on the suspense I left last week, I have had resolution to the crisis. It came in the form of an appointment set last Thursday for this morning. A productive discussion was held, and I am satisfied. As soon as the appointment was on my mental calendar, I was able to put off the heightened sense of perturbedness and save my mental energy for the productive outlet I knew was coming. That didn't keep me from being nervous beforehand, but it's all out there now. I wasn't met with the resistance I feared, which was really quite nice.

A Musical Analogy For My Current Mental State

In music there is always tension and release. That's what makes cadences pleasing to the ear- the aural release of tension. A lack of either, the tension or the release of that tension, makes a song less than pleasing. Children's music, for example, generally lacks the tension. As an adult, it's not very satisfying to listen to kids' music for any extended length of time. On the other hand, mounting tension with no resolution can be maddening. If you have dissonance building and building, and then the music just stops, there is an incredibly unsatisfying feeling in the room. Sometimes conductors like to do this to an ensemble in rehearsal, just to mess with the musicians.

I've got all this dissonance building and building... diminished chords with extra jarring notes thrown in... and I desperately need a resolution. Something's got to give.

Potential Energy - Physics Lesson Turns Psychoanalysis

This is how I feel.

In a set mouse trap, there is an incredible amount of potential energy stored in the spring. When it's sprung, the potential energy in the spring converted to kinetic energy causing the arm to exert force upon impact with the platform, and anything that may get between the arm and the platform, thus doing significant damage to the unfortunate finger, toe, stick, or (ick!) mouse that may be in the way.

There's something I'm so frustrated about that I feel like I'm going to snap. I'm going to unleash a deadly blast of venom if someone steps on me wrong.

I can't talk about anything in specific terms, it wouldn't be appropriate. Rest assured that the situation is not a family matter (AT ALL), and has nothing to do with my kids or husband, or any other family, for that matter. I am on guard that they will not be the undue recipients of a venomous blow.

The worst part of it is that I don't think there's a good solution to this problem that has me all tied up in knots. Complete disengagement is the only "non-violent" solution, and that's not a good one either... I'd rather go off on the offender, but that wouldn't accomplish anything, and it would make me look bad in the process... I have been rhetorically put on the back burner by someone, and I'm boiling over.

So I sit. And I seethe. And I try to not blow it out of proportion when Little Girl poops her pants... again.

My Choir Friend

I have a new "friend" who joins me for choir every week. I am in a community/student choir at the gigantic local state university. We meet from 7-10 PM on Tuesday evenings. It's my music-nerd outlet. We're doing Brahms' Liebeslieder for this concert, among other things. It's a light program compared to some we've done in the past (Rachmoninoff's Vespers just about killed me- we sang it in RUSSIAN!). The picture to the right is Brahms, in case you're wondering.

A couple weekends ago, I was at a kid birthday party for a kid in Big Girl's Kindergarten class. You know how those go- kids go off and do fun stuff while the adults who may or may not know each other sit around and make small talk. During this chit-chat session, one of the other moms (who I had met before- her son attends AWANA at our church) mentioned how her dad has been missing singing in a choir since he has been here. (I didn't know the particulars on where he was from or why he was here until later, so I'll save those details.) He had tried singing in a local church choir, but it wasn't challenging enough for him. I casually mentioned the choir I sing in, and she seemed excited to tell her father about it, but he'd have no way to get there without a car. (Again, I knew no details.) I offered that if he auditioned and made it, I'd give him a ride with me. He's living in an apartment complex less than 5 minutes from where I live, so it really wouldn't be any trouble.

So he auditioned, and got in.

Mr. Hoene and his wife are recently retired teachers visiting from Germany. They have never had a chance to get to know their 5 American grandchildren, of whom the one in Big Girl's class is #3, so they're visiting for 3 months. The concert we're preparing for is well within that time frame, and so this man will be singing in our choir for this concert.

I mentioned the Brahms. At last night's rehearsal Mr. Hoene was helping us with our German diction.

It's funny riding in the car with him. His English is very good for someone who has never lived in an English-speaking country, but every now and then he slips into German for a word or two.

Hubby was understandably nervous about this arrangement at first. He has met Mr. Hoene, and all is well.

Mr. Hoene is very appreciative to have this opportunity. He is also a Christian, and we have had some deep, though less than thorough, theological discussions on the way to and from choir despite the language barrier.

From the moment his daughter mentioned it to me, I have been at perfect peace that I was to facilitate this situation.

Little Girl has been playing with her music box again, so I have Swan Lake in my head again.

Frustration

There are some things going on that seem to have me in a state of perpetual frustration.

Little Girl's failure to use the potty is driving me nearly insane. I am baffled by her complete lack of motivation.

I don't want to put a whole post about when she peed/pooped where and how often, so I'll save you from that. The summary is that it's not going in the potty.

I have "Skullcusher Mountain," by Jonathan Coulton, in my head. It's a bit of comic relief playing in bits and pieces in my head, a fitting soundtrack to the "frustration over potty-training montage" scene in the movie of my life. A fitting juxtaposition, really.