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September 4, 2003
9.4.03
Moving Mitch to preschool, but when?
Angie has been the primary caregiver for Mitchell since I returned to work after my maternity leave in January 2002. She cared for both Rachel and Mitchell in her home which is a 10-minute drive from our home. During the school year, the drive takes longer as we pass through two school zones and sometimes we get stuck behind a bus that stops on every corner to board students. The bus drivers will not move until every kid is seated. In February of 2003, we moved Rachel from Angie’s care to a preschool because we felt Rachel was ready to be in a more structured learning environment. We wanted Mitchell to stay in Angie’s care and enjoy the comforts and security of being cared for in a private home by someone we personally know and trust. But that meant, driving Mitchell to Angie’s house and then backtracking to the preschool for Rachel. This added another 40 minutes of driving to my morning drive. We decided that we would move Mitchell to the preschool after he turns 2 in October. But, now we can’t decide if we should move him in October or wait until January. There are pros and cons to both sides. Even though the kids are 2 years apart, they will be 3 years apart in school because of the age cut-off for starting kindergarten in Texas (September 1st). Because Mitch’s birthday is Oct. 2nd, he will have to wait an extra year to start kindergarten. Rachel didn’t start preschool until 3 ½ . I don’t want to push Mitch into preschool, but yet he loves interacting with other kids and I feel getting an earlier start will be to his advantage. Of course, I would love to eliminate the extra driving time in my morning routine, so that’s an easy “yes,” vote, but the guilty part of me doesn’t want to take away Angie’s livelihood. I know she can find other income, but I felt very guilty when I moved Rachel from her care, cutting her salary in half. She’s had the opportunity to watch other children, but after initial interviews, she hasn’t felt that the fit was quite right. A few weeks ago, she had to take some time off. Her mother (Karen) lives two doors down from us, so she volunteered to watch Mitchell, and that was really nice since he knows and likes her and he feels comfortable with Karen.
The mean old Bacuum…
Mitch is terrified of our vacuum cleaner. Yet, he is semi-fascinated with the vacuum, and it’s become a daily obsession. Each morning when he wakes up, the first words out of his mouth are, “bacuum, scared!” He will go on and on about the “bacuum.” I don’t know if he has serious dreams or nightmares about being chased around by the vacuum, but it is certainly on his mind first thing in the morning. He knows where the monster is stored, in the closet under the stairs. Each time he passes the closet door, he will point and say, “bacuum scared,” and we will tell him, “vacuum went bye-bye, no more vacuum, vacuum all gone.” It’s tough communicating in Mitchell-speak. A whole new ballgame. When I get the vacuum out, he will shriek and run for cover, usually hiding on the overstuffed chair with his thumb in his mouth. Sometimes he will start crying and run to my legs. I’ve tried to hold him while I am vacuuming but he shakes. To my knowledge, he has never had a bad experience with the vacuum, like having his toe run over by it or something equally traumatic. I’ve tried vacuuming when he’s outside with his dad or after he goes to bed, but I don’t want to wake him with the noise. He has his own Little Devil red vacuum, and there was a time when both kids enjoyed vacuuming along with me. We’ve tried getting it out for him to use, and he does seem to enjoy it, but he can’t stand the real vacuum. I wonder when this phase will pass or am I traumatizing him for life? Another of our favorite phrases that he uses is “hold you for a second?” He says this while holding up his arms. He wants to be held. I’m sure he picked up the “hold you” phrase from us. When he was much smaller we’d hold out our arms and say “hold you?” and he’d run to be picked up.
Broken promises…
I hate to break promises. Especially ones made to my children. I try hard not to break my word or make a promise I can’t keep. I didn’t do so well this weekend. Starting last Friday, the skies opened and it began to pour down rain. It poured, and poured, and poured. As much as we desperately needed rain, I was sick of rain. Rain gets in the way of plans and promises. Most of our plans for the holiday were made with the great outdoors in mind. We wanted to take the kids to the zoo and we wanted to take them to the pool for one last hoo-ha before the pool closed for the summer. But, this did not happen. With the exception of a 20-minute errand on Saturday and 2 hours of church on Sunday, I did not leave the house all weekend due to the rain. Sure, we baked muffins and played board games. But, there is only so much mindless TV I can stand before I say, “enough!” We were housebound, not able to get outside to walk or exercise or play. By Monday, I was climbing the walls and we decided that we’d at least go to Katy Mills to walk around. We planned to see Finding Nemo for the 99th time, even though it would be Mitch’s first time in a real movie theatre. By 10 a.m., we had eaten breakfast, showered, and dressed. Rachel had not stirred from her bed. This was so unusual, but we decided to let her sleep. We checked the newspaper for a list of the movie times, and we had plenty of time. Rachel woke up at 11:15. She was groggy and not her normal self. She asked for some Kool-Aid but didn’t want to get out of bed. Mitch and I sat on her bed while she drank her Kool-Aid. She reminded me that we had not gone to the pool (as promised) nor had we played outside or gone to the zoo (as promised). And we had not made the pink cupcakes either. I reminded her that it was still raining, but that we were going to go to the movies and explore Katy Mills for the afternoon. She seemed to think about this for a minute, and then she began to gag and emptied her stomach all over her bedding. Oh boy! We moved her downstairs to the play room. I made a bed for her on the floor. She vomited, and then moved to the sofa. Jerry ran out to Blockbuster to pick up some movies for the kids. Rachel wanted to see Mulan and Shrek, and he picked up a different Wiggles tape for Mitch. Rachel kept saying how hungry she was, that she wanted food, and I tried to explain that she couldn’t have anything. I find it very hard to watch my daughter suffer when she is vomiting and hungry and can neither eat, nor drink. I just wanted some magic dust to make her well. I would have traded places with her. Rachel’s vomiting went on all day and into the night. We bathed her, but she was still so hungry and thirsty. Eventually night came and she fell asleep. Jerry slept downstairs with her. He said she got up in the night and he slept from 3 until 5. He had an appointment with his orthopedic surgeon on Tuesday, so he had to get up and on his way early Tuesday morning. I stayed home to care for Rachel. She had a low grade fever. She couldn’t sit up or support herself, she seemed limp and lifeless like a rag doll. Her eyes also floated to the back of her head. She fell asleep on the floor in the living room. After Mitch got up, I made pancakes for him and entertained him in the playroom. But, he soon realized that Rachel was in the living room and just knocked down the gate. He kept bugging her, and making noise. Rachel eventually woke up and I asked her if she felt well enough to sit up. I took Mitch over to Angie’s to keep him out of Rachel’s hair and she slept in peace for most of the day. When she woke up, she kept saying how hungry she was, so I tried to work with the BRAT diet. The only thing she would try was applesauce. She had a small bowl of applesauce and said she was still hungry. She managed to keep it down. I made her a bowl of oatmeal and she scarfed it down and asked for another bowl. I made her a second bowl and she finished it. It was so wonderful to see her eat and not vomit. Still, she was very pale and tired. She slept for a couple more hours. Jerry came home with Mitch. They had dinner downstairs and I moved Rachel upstairs to our room. She slept for a few more hours while Jerry kept Mitch downstairs. After Mitch went to bed, we were able to bring Rachel back downstairs. Jerry filled me in on his doctor’s appointment. He will need surgery to repair his ACL and a torn muscle.
Jerry stayed home with Rachel on Wednesday. She really needed an extra day of rest and she did just that. Jerry said she ate practically nothing and lounged around. She perked up in the afternoon and seemed more like herself, lively and smiling. After 4 days of rain, gloom and vomit, it was pure heaven to go to work on Wednesday and interact with fellow adults. When I got home, Rachel was much improved. I took her to Kids Praise kick-off at the church and she had a ball.
Losing my religion…
Due to various reasons and poor excuses, it’s taken quite a while to find a church to call home. I was raised in a very structured/strict home where church was the fiber of our family. After being raised and confirmed in the Presbyterian church at age 12, my family switched churches to the United Methodist Church. We were totally involved (immersed!) in the church and its activities. We attended Sunday school, Sunday services, Wednesday services, bible study, vacation bible school, MYF, hymn sings, youth fellowship, choir practice, Christmas plays, etc. Although I have fond memories of those years, I was resentful of being made to go every week, without fail. By the time I moved out at age 17 to start college and begin working, I had had enough of “having to” go to church. I still went to church, but was more of a casual attender. After I moved to the bible belt (Texas) in 1984, I got my first taste of the Baptists and Pentecostals and non-denominational churches. I visited different churches and found one I liked. I attended services, but also enjoyed watching from the comfort of my home since the church broadcasts its services on TV. Jerry and I got married in a church, but not in our church. Rachel was born. We moved to a new neighborhood. I got pregnant with Mitch and then he was born (are you noticing the poor excuses I mentioned earlier?). My dad was always the spiritual leader in my family. I think a part of me was hoping Jerry would get up and lead in this area of our lives. Rachel and I visited a few churches, but it was easier for Jerry and Mitch to stay home. Though I’ve been to a few church revivals under the big tent, it didn’t take a major miracle to get my attention. A few months ago, we drove by a church we had visited a few times, and Rachel asked if we could go to church. I said, “of course we can, we will go tomorrow.” And we did. I got online to find out what time the services started and we went the very next day. Rachel had a great time in her classes and I enjoyed the services. I don’t mind going alone, but the first time I felt like everyone was looking at me when they asked the visitors to raise their hands to fill out a card. I’ve sat through many sermons where I felt the message had my name written all over it, and felt like slinking down in the pew. But, this didn’t happen. I had a feeling of peace and left wanting to hear more. Since then, I’ve attended each week. It doesn’t matter how many times I attend or if I miss a week, what matters is that the message is reaching me, that Rachel is going to have a foundation of faith in her life, and that Mitch & Jerry are willing to join us. I want to keep an eye on Rachel so she isn’t overwhelmed, but I want to get her involved in the activities, so she will have fun while learning and growing. We started out attending on Sundays, where she attends the children’s worship service and Sunday school and I attend a bible study class and then a worship service. This week, the Kids Praise started its fall program, and she will attend on Wednesday nights. This weekend, AWANA starts on Sunday evenings from 4:30 to 6 p.m. Rachel will be in a Cubbies’ class. I volunteered to help, but somehow my “volunteering” turned into teaching. I showed up for the training class last Wednesday and was told I would be teaching a Cubbies class. Scary! (I think when they found out my major in college was elementary education, they decided to volunteer me to teach). I passed the criminal background test (shock!). So, now I have to study the book, take a test, and pass it. The class runs with the school year.
Warmly,
Megan
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