Round and round she goes...

I am trying my hand at knitting on circular needles. It took me three or four tries, but I think I'm getting the hang of it. First, I was doing it backwards (because the illustration in the book I was using for reference was... well... fershmeckled), then it ended up with odd ridges in it. Considering I'm doing stockinette stitch, that should not have happened. So it was rip, rip, rip and start over. Now it's going along nicely, and I'm kind of amazed, to tell you the truth.

It's funny that I find knitting more soothing than crochet. I've often said that crochet is my tranquilizer. Any time that I've felt stressed or nervous, I would crochet to calm down. Now knitting is taking that place. I think it's because I can knit and read at the same time, whereas I can't do that with crochet unless I'm, say, making an afghan where I'm using the same stitch over and over, and even then, I have to look to make sure I'm hooking into the right loop.

Right now, I'm working on a scarf in the Impertinent Daughter's school colors. My friend, the Tall Blonde, has more or less commissioned me (actually, it's more of a dare, but she used the word "commission" so I'll run with that) to make scarves for her daughters, son, and herself, plus my daughter and son, in time for the high school soccer season in November. Don't know if I'll have that many made in time, but I'll give it a good try. Her idea is that the other kids will see those scarves, or their parents will, and they'll want some, too. Then they'll ask her where she got them, and she'll either point at me (if I'm sitting there, which let's face it, I probably will. Miss my daughter's soccer games? Not willingly!) or tell them it was me, and I will find myself with orders to make scarves, which I can hopefully charge them for, and make some extra money on the side.

*chuckles*

I love her to pieces, but I don't know if my skills match up to her ambitions, at least not yet! But I will give it a good ol'' college try! When she enthused that I could make them with soccer balls worked into the design on the ends, I said, "Wait, whoa, I'm still working on learning how to do stripes, let's not have me doing designs yet!!"

I'm using the school colors pattern from Charmed Knits, which is going along well. And thank goodness I learned how to pick up dropped stitches with a crochet needle, or I'd be in tears now!!

In other news, the Husbandly One and I are gearing up for school to start next week, and worrying over the Impossible Son. I know I've mentioned his tummy troubles before, his complaints of stomach aches, and constant throat clearing, and all that stuff. We've worried that he has appendicitis, or an ulcer, and he's been to the doctor numerous times about it. He's complained of sore throats a lot, too, with no fever or other symptoms. He coughs and gags a lot, like my dad did all his life, throws up when he gets really upset, and we've been at our wit's end at times, trying to figure it out.

Well, our doctor sent us to a pediatric gastroenterologist back in May, and she put him on Prevacid, which did a huge amount of good for him. That and we kept a "tummy log" which we found very revealing. Sometimes, Mr. Manzie would go through these... non-stop eating binges, especially after dinner, where he would ask for grapes, then for cheese, then for toast, then for frozen peas, etc., etc. And we'd say, "But... you just had dinner!!" And he'd say, "I'm still hungry!!"

I was beginning to think he had a hollow leg or something, because the child does not have an extra ounce of fat on him! He's 4 feet 2 inches tall, and weighs 58 pounds, fer gossakes! But, as we kept the tummy log, and he would complain of his tummy hurting before he started asking for all the food, I finally had a light bulb go off in my head. "Are you asking for this because your tummy hurts?" I asked one night.

"Yes," he said, eyes wide.

"Are you hoping if you put enough food in your tummy, it'll stop hurting?"

"Yes," he said uncomfortably.

"Does it work?" I asked, getting down on my knees so we could see eye to eye. And I waited for the answer as he stared at me sadly.

"No," he finally said. "Not always. Sometimes it does, but... most of the time, no."

That was a huge revelation, and one I passed on to the doctor when we saw her again last week. He spent 6 weeks on the Prevacid, and 6 weeks off, and if we hadn't already known there was a problem before, the 6 weeks off would have confirmed it. Because it was as if those tummy troubles came back with a vengeance. With the added bonus of some of the most atrocious breath ever. *grimaces*

End result? He's going to have an upper endoscopy to take a look at his esophagus, stomach, and small intestine. This Friday.

Thanks to everything my dad went through for his cancer, I know what an endoscopy is, and what Mr. Impossible will be going through. However, there is a small, shaking part of me that is curled up in a terrified little ball, because this is my baby. The rational adult knows that this is necessary, because we really need to know what's going on inside his tummy, especially given that he's been having so much trouble for the last three years, and he is the spitting image of his Grand-Daddy.

Just knowing that keeps me from freaking out too much. I listened to my dad do everything my son is doing for years. Coughing and gagging when he was upset. Constantly clearing his throat. Eating the kinds of things that would fill his stomach (and probably make it stop hurting) before he went to bed, like bread and milk. And my dad got esophageal cancer when he was 78.

His mother died of what they thought at the time was "tuberculosis of the throat" at the age of 25, back in 1928, when he was five years old. We're now pretty sure she had the same cancer as my dad.

You bet I want to know what's going on in Mr. Impossible's tummy!!

They'll take biopsies while they're in there, too.

Does it tell you how upset I am that just writing this, I want to faint? Both the kids are sound asleep right now. I want to have my complete freak-out and meltdown over and done with before they wake up. I've put it off for six days now and finally have a moment to myself with no witnesses (except for you guys) to get it over with, so I can be brave, and cheerful, and upbeat for my son for the next five days.

Yay me.

I feel just like I did when the Impertinent Daughter was seven days old, and we were at the doctor's for her first shots. They had taken her from me and laid her on the treatment bed and given her her shots, and she, of course, being an infant, had started screaming. And I remember feeling utterly panic-stricken, wanting to both faint, and snatch her up to run away with her at the same time. The Blonde Sister, who worked for that doctor, stood next to me and patted my arm. She knew what I was going through, and told me the first time was always the hardest.

I feel like that right now. And I am sure that on Friday, I will be sitting in the parents' waiting room at the hospital, knitting for dear life and wanting to both faint, and run in to snatch up my son and run away with him. I think one of the hardest things about being a parent is knowing you have to trust utter strangers to take care of your child in what they reassuringly tell you is safe and controlled, but you know in your heart is utterly and terrifyingly dangerous, but it has to be done anyway. All of this, while you're sitting ten feet away in another room. Knowing that until he's sedated and out of it, that he's scared and wants you there... and you can't be. This is one of the really big, low dips in the rollercoaster of parenthood. I hate it. I just have to keep reminding myself that the rollercoaster will be going back up soon, and truly, that is all that gets me through these moments.

I hate fear. I'll get through it, but oh, man, oh, man, I hate the fear.

He's such a brave little man. In some ways, much braver than his sister. My heart of hearts knows he'll be fine. I just wish I could get the paranoid part of me to believe that, too.

Life with the Impossible Son

So, we're walking out of the San Marcos Library, and the Impossible Son says, "You know what I hate about super models?"

Okay, I thought, That's a bit of a non-sequiter! I'm used to those, though, thanks to the Impertinent One. "No, what do you hate about super-models?" I said, curious.

"They complain too much!" He skipped along next to me and frowned up at me. "Always complaining!"

"Oh," I said, nodding thoughtfully. "Spend a lot of time around super-models, do you?"

He grinned and started running for the van. "None of your beeswax!" he shouted over his shoulder.

"Hey!" I said, catching up. "I'm your mother! I have a right to know if you're hanging out with super models!"

The Husbandly One and the Impertinent Daughter stared at us with puzzled frowns. "What's going on, Mum?" Miss Priss asked.

"Mr. Impossible complained about super models, and I asked if he made a habit of hanging around them without telling us and he told me it's none of my beeswax!" I said indignantly as I got in the car.

"Wow," said the Husbandly One. "That's disrespectful."

"Hey," said the Impossible Son with a casual shrug. "I have a whole secret life none of you know about! That's just the way it is. Deal."

Then later, as we headed for home, the Impossible Son piped up, "Hey, Mom, are you going to bake cookies today?"

"I'll see what I can do," I said with a sigh. "Why?"

"I want to take a few samples so I can go down to my secret lab and do more work on my formula."

"Formula?" said the Husbandly One. "What formula?"

"I'm working on a formula for mind control," said the Impossible Son, leaning back in his seat with his DSLite. "If I get it right and add it to Mom's cookies, it will help her plan for World Domination Through Cookies move forward! I'm like... her assistant. Like... a mad scientist, but... none of you are allowed in my secret lab, so don't ask!"

"Okay," said the Husbandly One dubiously. "Just don't blow anything up. I'm not sure our homeowner's insurance would cover explosions and damage from an underground secret lab."

Yes, the Impossible Son has a rich, imaginative life. I wonder if conversations like this are the reason behind some of the very strange looks we get in public? Heh, heh, heh...

*stifled laughter*

My son just went running through the house in a wig and a skirt, shouting, "WOOOOOO!! I'm a FREE MAN!!!"

Home again, home again, jiggity jog...

We got back from Rockport on Saturday afternoon, with no sunburns, broken bones, one jellyfish sting, and many shells, none with a passenger, unlike last year, when we realized we had brought home an unintended passenger, and had to make a special trip to Galveston the following weekend to set him free.

It was awfully close, though. As we were packing up to leave, one of the kids found a lone moon shell hiding in a corner of the hotel room, and when I took it and poured warm water into it, out came a wild scrabbling of small jointed limbs. So, we finished packing up, and stopped by the beach so I could set him free. At first, I set him down just in the shallow water, so he could recover a bit, but when I straightened up, I noticed a little girl edging toward me, her eyes on the shell and realized my efforts were doomed to failure if I just left him there. So, with a sigh, I went back, picked him back up, and tossed him into a nice thick patch of sea grass in water that was about knee deep. Well... knee deep for me, that is!

It was a good vacation, and I wish it could have lasted a little longer. We enjoyed ourselves thoroughly, being somewhat more adventurous this time and exploring more of Rockport than we did last time. We had adventures, and did silly stuff, like this...



I will refrain from comment...

We shopped, and I have to tell you, it wasn't as hot as it had been last year, when we were suffering through the Triple Digit Summer From Hell, but it was much, much more humid, and that knocked the heat index up into the triple digits. This made walking much steamier than last year. Ugh! Thankfully, the Husbandly One and the Impossible Son volunteered to walk our purchases back to the van, letting the Impertinent One and I stay in the shade (and mugginess) before tramping off to the next shop.



They were always disgustingly cheerful when they walked back.

We had fun looking at all the shops, bought a few things here and there. I would have liked to have bought some art, maybe some furniture, but how to transport it back? However, I did spot a shop called "Jack and the Bead Stock" that was having a huge sale on beads, etc, so, you know I had to go there and check things out! And walked out with a big bag of charms with plans for earrings and bracelets. But only after the Husbandly One twisted my arm a little and encouraged me to stock up. Still, I was very gleeful when we left, and can't wait to make some stuff!! Unfortunately, I was too engrossed in droolling shopping to take pictures, so...

We had lunch, went back to the hotel, rested, and then got ready to hit the beach. And I have to say something about BullFrog's SPF 50 SuperBlock Lotion Sunblock with Titanium Dioxide. It's probably the best sunblock they've made so far, and we've been using BullFrog since Miss Priss was in diapers! But this one, it works, it really, really works. It makes you look funky, because it's white, and it makes you look like something that's been locked in a dark basement all winter, and you've only just come out into the sun. But... you won't get burned.

I burn. Not as easily as the Blonde Sister. It takes me longer, but I burn. But... not with this stuff! It is awesome!!! Seriously, this year, nobody got sunburn. Period.

Anyhow, I digress. We went to the beach, and the kids decided, after trying to find sea shells to take home, and finding way too many occupied ones, to think outside the box and instead, collect as many hermit crabs as they could!



As you can see, they set to it with great gusto...



... and collected quite a lot!!



And the majority of the shells were very much occupied!



and not all were happy about being captured, as you can see!



A tiny sea snail must have ridden in one of the shells, because we found it trying to get out of the bowl. The Husbandly One obligingly set it in his hand so I could get a shot of it.

The Impossible Son loves our trips to the beach, and it's always a chore to get him to come out of the water when it's time to go...



"No, I don't hear anybody calling me, nope, not me, not at all. No, Mom's not trying to call me, and my sister's not threatening me with death, so... I'll just look for more hermit crabs... yeaaaaah, that's what I'll do!!"

Of course, his sister was making death threats, because she was hot, uncomfortable, and somewhat grumpy, because her moon cycle hit just before we left home, and she wasn't comfortable with the idea of swimming in the ocean while pretty much bleeding. I understand that. I did offer her tampons, but she's not worked up the nerve to try them yet, and I'm not forcing her. In her own time, you know? So, we kicked around in the shallows, made a sand castle, drew in the sand, played soccer, walked up and down the beach, talked to people, and kept ourselves occupied. However, when it was time to go back to the hotel, she wanted to go back and not wait around for a Little Bother who didn't want to get out of the water before he absolutely had to.

All in all, it was a good trip. We played in the water, went shopping, ate great food, and had interesting adventures.

There was a new Chinese restaurant just down the road from our hotel, called the Panda Bay, which turned out to be really, really good. We went for dinner on Friday night, and got a waiter who pretty much leapt to attention if I so much as twitched. And considering that I talk with my hands (everyone who either knows me or has met me in Real Life is laughing heartily right here, because they know), you just know the poor man was run off his legs!!

He seemed really, really taken with the Impossible Son and kept encouraging him to eat without pressuring him. They didn't have a menu aimed at kids, but they would do what they could to accommodate their quirks (food not touching, sauces served separately, so the kids control how much goes on their food, etc). We'd ordered a combo plate for Mr. Impossible with sweet and sour chicken, and sweet and sour pork, sans the sauce (because neither Miss Priss, Mr. Impossible, nor I can have it), and he dug into it with gusto, only pausing long enough to ask for ketchup, which the waiter obligingly provided.

Our tea never got more than two inches below the top of the glass, and I got to where I practically sat on my hands, so the poor man would pay attention to his other customers!! The Husbandly One seemed to be inexplicably entertained by all of this and asked me if I'd packed my red v-neck shirt. I asked why, and he said, "If we come back for lunch tomorrow, you should wear it. Maybe we'll get free appetizers!"

O_o???

Anyhow, we enjoyed ourselves, and have decided that we definitely need to come back, and we also need to try staying in either a beach house, or a condo or something, just for variety's sake. We also want to come during the winter for beach combing and just for something different. And visit the Aransas National Wildlife Refuge, something we weren't able to do this time.

And now to bed, and now to bed...

Picture Spam!!!

Greetings from the wilds of Rockport!!!

And yes, I have photos to post!!

Here we go...



The Impertinent Daughter, not long after we'd arrived...



The Impossible Son has sea-green eyes...



Miss Impertinent gets in a little time with the soccer ball...



We found the world's tiniest hermit crab...



The Husbandly One and the Impossible Son share a chuckle...



The Impertinent Daughter took this photo of a hermit crab in my hand...

I'm too tired to write much tonight, so I hope you enjoyed the photos!!

Love,

Jo

Salvia no Tsubomi ga...

It's no secret, I guess, that we listen to a lot of Japanese rock music, and pop music at our house. We're as likely to listen to L'Arc-En-Ciel and Home Made Kazoku as we are to Imogen Heap and the Dave Matthews Band.

It all started because of anime. Because we liked watching Japanese anime, like Princess Mononoke and Spirited Away, and TV series like Naruto and Ouran High School Host Club... and... we liked the music.

I have a writing journal on Livejournal, and the friends I made there introduced me to music outside of anime, sending me music that they thought I'd like, and the next thing I knew, the Impoertinent Daughter was interested, and wanted to listen, and it just sort of... exploded from there!

Still, the impact of this didn't hit me until the other day. The Impossible Son was playing with his DS, and he was singing softly to himself as he played, a song completely different from the music playing in the game, and it took a few minutes for me to realize why I couldn't understand what he was saying. Usually, it's because he doesn't know the words to some of the songs he likes, so he just sort of... makes up nonsense words to take the place of the ones he doesn't know yet. But... suddenly, I stopped and really listened and realized... I couldn't understand him because HE WAS SINGING IN JAPANESE!!!

Now, you have to realize, the Impertinent Daughter sings in Japanese all the time. She has actually gone online to look for lyrics to the songs she likes so she can sing along, and learns how to pronounce the words and what they mean, so... she's in a fair way of learning Japanese.

However, the Impossible Son hasn't done any of this, hasn't even thought of looking up lyrics. He just... hears it, and repeats it. And he doesn't have to hear the song to sing it in Japanese. He just... starts singing.

It's awesome!!

I shouldn't be surprised. He's listening to a song being sung in Japanese. When we watch our favorite anime movies, we tend to turn off the English track and put on the original Japanese track with English subtitles, and personally, I don't always need the subtitles to understand what they're saying any more. So, I shouldn't be surprised that the Impossible Son, without the incentive to want to learn Japanese, the way my daughter wants to learn it, is learning it without thinking about it. It's awesome. It's surprising. And it is just... mind-boggling!

To say that I'm proud would be an understatement!

And now, to explain the title of this post, it's the title of a Home Made Kazoku song.

When Mom Plays Kingdom Hearts...

Thought y'all would get a kick of my daughter's point of view when I'm playing games on my DSLite. Kingdom Hearts 358/2 Days in particular.



See, my main character, Roxas, doesn't always do what I want him to do, and... for some reason, he seems to spontaneously burst into flames... even when there is no fire even remotely around. I mean, I've used no fire spells, none of the Heartless he is fighting are using fire spells, he just... bursts into flame.

Personally, I think he's depressed because he has such an inept player controlling him, but I could be wrong.

However, I am getting better, though right now I'm stuck trying to kill the ... er... Leech Grave or Leach Grave, I'm not sure which, but it's a nasty one that... well, it'll probably take me about four or five weeks to figure out how to kill it. *sigh*

However, I am vastly entertained whenever I switch to Mission Mode to have Donald Duck as my character, and watch him waddle/hop through Twilight Town to whack Heartless with his magical staff with a "Waaa-Whoa!!" and then watch him throw a temper tantrum of epic proportions when he gets hit back!!

It's a good thing I play solo in Mission mode, because I spend most of my time snickering and giggling and putting poor Donald in dangerous situations just to watch the mad hopping up and down and the furious Donald Duck cursing he does!!

Hee!!