A Little Perspective And A Dose of Tylenol

Today I took Andrew for his 15 month well check. He hasn't been quite right the last two days, and I suspected that he was coming down with something. Plus, he has something wrong with one of his toenails, which I also wanted to address with the doctor. We arrived for our visit and were seen almost immediately. Nice start, or so I thought. He talked to us, and let me know that Andrew has Hand, Foot and Mouth disease and his throat is coated in blisters, which would explain the lack of appetite. Poor guy. It's a virus that will run it's course, and we should use the usual treatments. Straightforward enough. The last few days haven't been great, but they haven't been an absolute nightmare either, so my thoughts at that point were still rather tolerable.

I brought up the fact that I have noticed Andrew's left calf get red throughout the summer with exertion. Andrew was born with a benign circulatory disorder that causes the left half of his body to turn purple from time to time. Those of you who have seen it can attest to the sheer freakishness of it, if that's a word. He literally looks like someone drew a line down his center and colored the left half of him purple. It's very unnerving, but I have been told repeatedly by all three of the doctors in the practice that it is no big deal, and not to worry about it. I have also been told that he may or may not grow out of it. At first, the doctor thought that the red calf was just part of this circulation thing. He said that with the summer heat, his circulation increased and increased the blood flow. I would also be more apt to notice it because of his attire this time of year (shorts vs. pants). However, as he was doing the exam on Andrew, he quickly became concerned. He said Andrew's heart rate was higher than it should be and that he didn't like all the small, broken blood vessels Andrew had on his stomach. Andrew also always has a little rash somewhere. I'm telling you, this kid has strange things. He has only had one ear infection and a few colds. He doesn't get "normal" illnesses. He gets bizarre things, like off the wall rashes, hand foot and mouth disease, rare circulation disorders, etc. The doctor didn't feel that it was a rash, but more like broken capillaries, which made him very worried.

He felt around, measured Andrew's legs and thought that one might be a little bigger than the other. There is a very dangerous cirucaltory disorder which causes the body to swell on one side, break blood vessels and have an increased heart rate - all symptoms Andrew was exhibiting. To err on the side of caution, he sent me to the hospital for some stat blood work and a chest x-ray to rule out this potentially very serious, and very rare disorder, which in the chaos of it all, he never told me the name of! I grabbed my things and off we went - me, Andrew and Jacob, to the hospital.

I have to hand it to the staff at Nason Hospital. Once again, they handled my child and me with speed and kindness. They may be a small, back in the woods establishment, but they do things with ease. The staff was kind and swift, and we had blood drawn, chest x-rays done and were back at the doctor's office for a read within an hour with all of the results. Even though it felt like an eternity then, I realize now just how fast that really is.

Even 5 minutes of not knowing if your child is going to be diagnosed with a very serious illness is too many. I'm thankful that Jacob was there, because I had no one to reassure me that everything was indeed OK. In some ways, I wished that I had taken my dad up on his offer to keep Jake for the morning (I obviously hadn't foreseen the upcoming events), because it was a long time for Jacob to wait. But he was very well behaved, and he was a good distraction for me. He talked to me and kept me focused on something other than the fact that my baby may be gravely ill. He was what I needed to remain calm. Little did he know how much his chattering about possibly joining a gymnastics class meant to me! It was God's way of sending me the balance I needed to see what was important right then; being calm and present for my children, something I'm not usually very good at.

Poor Andrew was so obviously ill throughout the whole ordeal. He was fussy, for sure, but more apparent to me was his complete lack of energy. He literally sat in my lap the whole time. Andrew doesn't typically sit for more than 2 minutes, let alone more than 2 hours. He cried when they drew blood, but he regained his composure quickly afterward, and he was only moderately fussy during the chest x-ray. The staff let me stand with him, and hold his arms during the x-ray, which I think helped. By the time we returned to the doctor's office, his temperature was 103.5. We gave him Tylenol and headed home with peace of mind.

The blood work was normal, as was the chest x-ray. There's nothing wrong with him. He's just Andrew, with a sometimes half purple body, a possible toenail fungus (yuck!), a yeast infection on his butt, and occasional mysterious rashes. That's just how he's going to be: strange. There are no simple colds for him, but I'll take strange. Strange is good. Strange is just the way I love him.

Jacob's First Bass Tournament

For those of you who didn't already know, Greg is a professional Bass fisherman. He hasn't fished professionally in the last two years because of the amount of time it takes and the amount of family things we have had going on, but he can't keep himself off the water completely. Luckily, there are plenty of tournaments for non-professionals around here to keep him busy. He mostly fishes with his brother and a few of his friends, but on July 25th, he decided to take Jacob along.


Initially, when Greg brought the idea up to me, I thought it was a father - son tournament that was a few hours long, and immediately agreed to it. It wasn't until after we had already talked to Jacob about it, that I realized it was a regular tournament, for which Jacob would be required to spend 8 hours on a boat and get up at 4 in the morning! It was at that point, that I started having second thoughts. That is an awfully long time for a 6 year old to be on a boat, and it is very, very early to get up. Greg had faith (or was naive, whichever way you prefer to look at it), and we had already told Jacob, so there was no turning back at that point. Jacob was absolutely thrilled about the tournament, too. He talked about it for an entire week before it happened. He practiced on the Wii (yes, we even have a bass fishing Wii game), he talked about the prizes, types of baits he was going to try, strategies, etc. He had his mind set on fishing, and we couldn't take that away from him, nor did I want to. I was just worried about his stamina.



It did, however, end up a success. They did not even come close to winning the tournament, but Greg reported that Jacob exhibited true sportsmanship throughout the tournament. He was an eager participant almost the entire time, which I thought was unbelievable. He had packed a book bag full of activities in case he got bored, but he didn't even crack it open! It wasn't until the very end that he mentioned his fatigue. That's pretty impressive for a six year old!



I think the next tournament they fish together will be one of the three hour Wednesday night tournaments on Lake Raystown, but for the first one, they couldn't have asked for a better day!

The only fish they actually weighed in.

Jacob can cast like a pro...reeling in a fish is another story, but hey, you gotta start somewhere!


"WooHoo! Bring on the Bass!"

The night before, preparing the boat

Our Town

I make books for the boys each year, and this year I decided to add pages of our town. I added photos of our house, my parents house, Greg's parents house and places around the the town that we frequent. We live in such a cute little town, and who knows how it will change over the course of the boys' lifetimes. Here are some photos of the kids in and about our home town:

This is Greg's parent's house. They live two blocks away from us, which is really nice. Greg's brother and his wife and kids also live only a few blocks away, as do my parents. Being that close to family is good for all of us, especially the kids. I'm so glad that my boys have the opportunity to be physically close to their family as they grow up!

The side view of their house, which actually, I consider the front view, because it's how we always enter the house. They have a huge deck, and sit on top of a hill. Greg's parents have a great view from their house. Even though they are right in the heart of town, they can see all of the the fireworks from the local amusement park. On the 4th of July, we have prime seating! Everyone else crowds along the block beside their house, and we all sit comfortably on the deck!

Andrew "clinking" some plastic cups on our front porch.

Jacob getting down, cowboy style, on the front porch swing.

Our house

Greg showing Andrew the fish in my parents' back yard.

My parents' house. My dad grew up in this house, and I lived here from the time I was 10. Jacob lived here from birth until he was 3, and still spends the night at least once a week. We visit almost every day. It's definitely nice to live only a few blocks a way, and one major reason that Greg and I didn't want to leave the borough when we were looking for a house before we got married.

The back of their house. They have a double lot, but instead of it being a side to side double, like ours, it is back to back, so their back yard goes the whole way to the next block. My dad has a pretty impressive rose garden and vegetable garden, which I don't have photos of. They are just to the left of this shot.

Jacob and Andrew, with their respective weapons, on the play set in my parents' yard.

Andrew isn't quite able to get Jacob this year, but I bet he'll get him next summer!

I love this shot. Andrew looks so cute with his half-smile and light saber, and Jacob is so serious with his cowboy pistol. I bet he does feel like shooting me sometimes, I take so many pictures!

Jacob on the swing.

D'Ottavio's, a local pizza shop that Jacob loves. There are several D'Ottavio's shops in our county. This one is directly downtown, on the "diamond," a spot on the main street that is literally shaped like a diamond.

Jacob taking a rest from a walk on one of the benches on Allegheny Street, the main street through downtown.

Jacob climbing on the cannonballs on the lawn in front of the court house.

This is A Plus Mini Mart. Jacob loves to walk downtown with my mom and her dogs. She gives him money and he goes inside to get candy, while she waits outside. The owners are very nice to him, and always help him pick out something he can afford. I have also sent him inside with a note for eggs or milk while I pumped gas and stood with the baby, so I didn't have to undo the car seat - another benefit to a small town!

The courthouse in full view. We are the county seat. Jacob likes to come down here in the afternoons in the summer and get hot dogs from a man who sells them from a concession stand. Honestly, this guy does a big business. The hot dogs are pretty good, and he sells more than just hot dogs. He also has another specialty that he does each day, in addition to some other staples. We have eaten at the picnic tables outside the courthouse many times. On Fridays there is a farmer's market just off the diamond, and we have gone and gotten some produce too. The farmer's market isn't fantastic. It's small, but its a cute idea, and Jake likes walking through. It's a nice activity for the boys, and a nice memory to have.

This is our church, St. Michael's, where we haven't been for a long time, because Andrew repeatedly charges the alter. I miss it. We only see it from the outside now. I pray from home these days.

That sums it up for now. That's our town in a nutshell. What a cute little area we live in. I look around us and I hope that it stays this way. Things change, not always for the good, and sometimes I worry about our little slice of heaven. We are sheltered here, living in a world of innocence, safety and trust, but we don't take it for granted - at least I don't. I'm well aware of how precious it is and how it needs to be protected, and how much thanks for it needs to be given!

Oh, Jacob

Unwittingly at it again, here are some of his latest:

"Mom, why do we always buy Hanes ketchup?"
(Stifling laugh) "Because Hanes tastes the best, and it is made locally, in Pittsburgh."
"I bet Hanes also makes super hot sauce!
In chimes my dad: "Yeah, to go with their super soft underwear!"

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Lemon Bologna

Parmen John's Cheese

Nestes, as in, "there are three bird 'nest'es' on our front porch."

She Shell City, aka Ocean City, Maryland.

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"Mom, what do 'purr-airy' dogs eat?"

"Purr-airy dogs? I don't know exactly. Why?"

"What do regular dogs eat? Wild ones, I mean."

"Oh. They hunt things. Small animals. They live in packs and hunt them down, I think. Or scavenge. I'm not 100% sure."

"OK."

He thought prairie dogs (pronounced purr-airy) were like regular wild dogs. Not sure what had him thinking of that.

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Not My Father

"I know the thoughts I think towards you," says the Lord. "Thoughts of good and not of evil, to give you a future and a hope." Jeremiah 29:11

The good memories I have of my biological father are few. When I was small, he used to let me sit on his lap and steer the car while he drove. I always thought that was so much fun. He was muscular, and he would make his biceps "dance" for us, while he whistled, which I thought was funny. And, as my sister pointed out this weekend, we are both excellent pinball players thanks to Dad. He used to pick us up for visitation, take us to the Moose Lodge on Saturdays when no one else was there and give us a roll of quarters, a bag of Cheezies and a can of pop and say, "have at it." We would have our go at the pinball machine, crane treasure machine, and pool table until he had his fill of beer and took us home. What a way for young children to spend a weekend!

That's about it for the good memories. I've wracked my brain for the last few days trying to come up with more, but I just can't. I have long list of not so nice memories, some sad, some mean and violent and some just ho-hum. Some I can share, and some I will not. I can say this, however. As mean as my father was, and as frightened as my sister and I could be, he never actually touched us. The physical violence was reserved for adults, and I suppose he deserves at least an ounce of credit for that.

My father ruined ever single holiday without exception. He inevitably got drunk and started an argument with someone over something, usually something stupid and not worth fighting about. One Christmas we didn't even make it out of the car before he started fighting with my uncle about something. He drove my sister and I back to my grandmother's house and my aunt came for us. She drove us back to my uncle's house for Christmas dinner without my dad. Once, he pounded in the hood and sides of my mother's brand new car once because he claimed she bought it with his piddly child support money. He then filed a dispute for the amount of child support he was paying, only to have the judge overturn his dispute in my mother's favor and charge him more money monthly! Then there was the time that he took us to an amusement park (I don't remember which one). My step mother went too. Once we got there, he decided that his knee hurt too much to walk around the park, so he sat in the car the whole day while we rode the rides. He came to the school musical when I was in 9th grade, but his knee hurt then too, so he had to leave after the first act. I had a leading role. He missed the whole thing.

My father's mother died the same summer that my mother's mother died. Actually, she died one week after my mother's mother. That summer, on Father's Day, I called my dad, and he was having some kind of party at his house. Someone I didn't know answered the phone and said he wasn't around. I called my grandmother next and left a message with her instead. Later that night, my dad called me, angry and drunk. He screamed at me, saying that I never called him and that as far as he was concerned, I didn't have a father anymore. I was 11. I tried my best to explain. I can still picture myself at the time of that phone call. I was standing in my kitchen on a cordless phone, ringing a tea towel in my hands, crying, trying to explain, pleading with him to ask Gram - she could vouch for me. He wouldn't hear it. He could never hear anything through the alcohol.

I refused to see him at all that summer. I would not go for the weekend visitations until he apologized for me, and my mother did not force me to go. He was wrong to treat me the way he did. My mother took me to visit my grandmother while she was sick, but I didn't visit nearly as much as I would have, had I been going with my dad for his two weekends a month. Sometimes I still feel guilty about that. Up until that point, I had been very close with my dad's mom too. Visits with my dad were really visits with Grandma Helen. She loved me very much and part of me felt as if I had betrayed her in standing up for myself against my father. My mother just couldn't take me to see her more often than she did. Her own mother was losing a battle with cancer too, and one person can only do so much. It was a summer of compromise, a summer which made no one happy in any way.

When my grandmother died, I went to the funeral. I remember feeling choked and stifled by the scent of the flowers in the funeral parlor. It was the day I waved my white flag and surrendered. I resumed visitation that day, and with it, I resumed the anguish of being Tom's daughter.

I continued to see my dad until I turned 14 or 15 and then the visits became sporadic. I don't really even know when I last saw him. I stopped by once after I turned 16, because I thought he would be proud that I could drive a stick. I remember it being a very anticlimactic encounter. He didn't come to any of my high school extracurricular activities. He didn't come to my graduation, or even send me a card that I remember. It was my fault for not inviting him. He probably didn't realize that I had turned 18 and that Hollidaysburg had a graduation in June of 1995. It would have been easy to miss (sarcasm here).

Mostly I stopped going around, because I didn't want to deal with the drama that he brought into my life. My father was always angry about something. If he wasn't angry, then he was depressed. Regardless of what emotion he was exhibiting, it was never his fault. The blame was always pushed off on someone else. He was always so unpredictable, and terrifying. He was a strong, loud and powerful man, and he never made us feel good about ourselves. We were never good enough. We never measured up. We always fell short.

Thankfully, I had a stable home with my mother and step-father, the man who I now call my dad. Terry has earned the title "dad." He is the one who knows what kind of cereals we ate, what kind of animals we liked, where we rode our bikes, what instruments we played, who our friends were, what size clothing we wore. He is the man who is now a grandfather to our children and can tell you those same things about my boys. Any man can be a father, not every man can be a dad.

I have to say, however, that although I had a good home, it still took me until my mid 20's to come to terms with my relationship, or lack thereof, with my biological father. I can now, with full certainty say that it is his loss, not mine, that he doesn't have contact with us, and that the ties were cut by him, not me. I may have chosen not to see him any more, but it was a choice I had to make. A toxic relationship like that does nothing but poison a person.

It is with that in mind, that I frequently think of my relationship with my own children. Despite my lack of contact with him, he is never far from my thoughts. I am well aware of my own tendencies to blame others and to jump to conclusions, of my own short temper and hastiness to yell. As much as I hate to admit it, I see some of his personality in me, and that terrifies me. I suppose that recognizing it is the most important step. Knowing that I have a short temper, I can take actions to correct it. I can certainly make sure that I verbalize pride in my children, and praise them for the things they have done well. I don't ever want my boys to look back and think that they want to sever all ties with me because I am toxic.

Each day I when I wake, I say a quick prayer; for strength and patience to make it through the day peacefully. Sometimes I don't even make it through the morning, but sometimes I make it a while longer. Part of the progress is recognizing my own small accomplishments; not yelling at every little thing, not allowing myself to be selfish or place blame unnecessarily. I think it's worth praying on, and I think that I might add some prayers throughout the day to get me through the rough spots. Jacob and Andrew deserve patience and understanding, and so do I. We all need "thoughts of good and not of evil...a future and a hope."

The Last Few Days

Here are some photos and stories of what's been going on over the last few days. The first two photos are of Andrew in the tub. I bought some Elmo foam soap at Target early in the week and this is what happened when I gave it to Andrew:

Actually, he wasn't sure what to do with it at first. He pointed to the container, and I put some in the palm of his hand, which he promptly ate. In typical Andrew fashion, he made a terrible face and then continued to eat it, then smeared it all over himself.

I have to take credit for the pink crown, however. He had nothing to do with that. You can see here, he has already had a small taste of the soap. He doesn't appear to be deterred by the taste, does he? Only Andrew would like to eat soap!

As you saw on the sidebar picture, Andrew has found a new playground in the dryer. This makes doing laundry very difficult now. I either have to wait until he naps or lock him out of the laundry room, neither of which are terribly great options. Here he is very mad that his sweeper doesn't work to his satisfaction inside the dryer!

Now that's multi-tasking! (Taken before he became angry - I still can't figure out how to post these in the order I want them)

It's pouring outside right now, but fortunately, before the storms began, Greg, Jacob, Andrew and I were able to take a nice walk downtown. Every Friday there is a Farmer's Market downtown. We went to the Court House, bought hot dogs from Doug's Dawgs, a local vendor who sells hot dogs daily. We ate outside the court house and then wandered up to the market. We got some homemade jam and salsa and some stuffing peppers for the grill for dinner tonight, which means Greg is cooking! Yum, and easy for me! Double bonus!

These pictures were taken yesterday in our back yard. It rained most of the day yesterday too, but we did have a little bit of time in the afternoon when the sun emerged. During that time, the boys and I took advantage of the nice weather and spent some time in the kiddie pool. Seeing Jacob in that pool made me realize how terribly small it is. I think we need to get a pool pass, or at least befriend someone with a real pool for next year!

"Well, my dear Jacob, the physics of water is such that, anything less dense than that water itself will float."

"Hey! That's cold!"

Andrew kept climbing out of the pool. Andrew, as many of you know is a very active child. He moves constantly. So when he continually climbed out of the pool, I figured that it was just his restlessness, and I kept placing him back into the water. Eventually he stood still and gave me this look. About 3 seconds later, he bent over slightly and pooped on my lawn. I guess he was trying to tell me something after all! Jacob was thoroughly grossed out, and I was just glad that he didn't do it in the water. It was much easier to clean up off the grass than to Clorox the pool again!

Here he is trying to make a bathroom break!

Peeing in a cup. Isn't he a polite little toddler?

Watching grass grow is fun!

More Memories - Allegheny This Time

Here they are, the college pictures I promised!

I became friends with Shelly and Shannon when we studied abroad in Cologne, Germany in 1996. Each year, Allegheny has a celebration week for graduation seniors. This photo was taken at a dinner at a nice restaurant called the Riverside Inn. Shannon is actually a year older than us, but she married a man who graduated with us, so she was able to come back to Allegheny and attend all of our senior week activities.

My friend Michelle (middle) is actually a twin (left). Katie did not go to Allegheny, but she visited many times, and we all became friends with her as well. How could we not love our dear Michelle's twin sister! I don't know where this photo was taken (help me out, girls). But here they are as follows: Katie, Shelly, Michelle, Danielle and Shannon.

I also don't know why this photo was taken, but it is obviously in the spring. It's on Allegheny's campus, in front of the registrar's office, Bentley Hall. It couldn't have been graduation, because the lawn is not set up. Michelle, Molly, Erika (my freshman roommate), Me, and Kris Dossinger, a senior our freshman year.

This was taken at Michelle's wedding. Molly and I were both in the wedding. What a fun time! At one point towards the end of the reception, there was a cross dresser in the lobby of the hotel where the reception was. The cross dresser was not part of Michelle and Pete's wedding party. Someone had locked the poor guy out of his room! He was wearing fish net stockings, high heels, short black shorts and a long blond wig! As is typical for Pete, he loudly laughed and pointed out the man's predicament, and as is typical for Michelle, she quietly told Pete to stop, but then chuckled to herself! What a memory for your wedding night!

Molly and me at the wedding. Michelle's wedding is one of the few that I can honestly say the dresses were nice! Thanks, Michelle!

This is another shot at the senior dinner at the Riverside Inn. There was a sleigh outside on the porch and we all took turns climbing inside. Here's Jonathan, Me, Shelly and Danielle.

I think this might have been after senior year. We all made a trip to Kennywood park. Michelle, Pete, Danielle, Jon and Me. Jon had a big crush on Danielle, but obviously it never came to fruition, since she's gay! Poor guy was just chasing rainbows, literally! Haha

We were always doing strange things. OK, I was always doing strange things. I painted this girl (if you can call it that) on our wall junior year and named her Gertie. Junior year, Molly (pictured here with me), Michelle, another friend Danielle (not in any of these photos) and I lived in a quad suite together. It was a nice set-up: two bedrooms, our own bathroom and a living room.

A photo from one of our canoeing excursions.

Taken before a 70's theme party that we never made it to, due to a little too much pre-partying!

Taken in Bonn, Germany. For those of you who don't believe me when I say I got really fat when I went abroad, here's the proof. That's me on the far left. Then Susan, Val, Aimee, Robin in the front row, and Jessica and Sabrina in the back. Even though I didn't have a single pair of pants that I could button by the end of the semester, it really was a wonderful trip and experience. I did some really crazy things, but I think that is the point of studying abroad. It really gave me a perspective that I would not be able to get if I were to travel at this point in my life. In addition, I made some fantastic lifelong connections, which I wouldn't trade for the world! (Feel free to comment and share some memories)

This is a cruise we took down the Rhine. Valarie, Shelly, Jeff, Sarah, Kat and Sabrina. Too bad it's cloudy. When I was in high school, my German teacher made me memorize a poem about a muse who sat atop some treacherous cliffs along the Rhine and lured boats to their demise. Every time I road along it, or think about it to this day, bits and pieces of the poem pop into my head. "Und das hat mit Ihrem singen, die Lorelei getan." Thanks, Frau!

Molly and Michelle in their room Freshman year.

Michelle had this same picture when she came to visit this weekend. We used to go to Pizza Hut and also to a local Chinese restaurant to celebrate birthdays all the time in college. This was taken during one of those trips, freshman year. We couldn't remember whose birthday it was. Note, Kevin, the sole man, lucky guy! Here were are in order from Kevin:

Kevin, Me, Rachel, Michelle, Emily, Molly, Erika, Danielle, and Danielle (Danielle's girlfriend at the time, and still a friend of ours)

That's all I have for now. I think that my dad has a box of photos in his attic that he is holding hostage for some reason. Blackmail, maybe?! I know I did some crazy things in college and half of them are documented! (not really) No, seriously, perhaps I will get around to sorting through the rest someday. It is fun walking down memory lane and reliving those days. We had some really good times together, and I'm so grateful that most of us still keep in touch.

I love you all!