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September 12, 2003
9/12/03:
Perfect timing…
I may have mentioned how I've been struggling over how to break the news to Angie that we want to move Mitch to preschool at the end of this month. I had planned to tell her on Monday evening. But, Jerry called and said he would pick up Mitch, so I waited until Tuesday. As I pulled into Angie’s driveway, I felt guilty, but knew that I had better tell her so she'd have the rest of the month to plan. Well, thank goodness, the joke was on me! Angie met me at the door holding Mitch. He reached for me and Angie handed him over to me with his bag. I could see a folded, typewritten note in his bag. And I could tell something was bothering Angie by the expression on her face. She said that she and her husband had been talking for the past few weeks and they had decided that Angie really needs to find a full-time job outside the home. They have incurred so many medical bills with her recent surgery and she doesn’t have medical insurance. She explained that she has tried to find another child to watch, but none seemed a perfect match. She went on to apologize for having to give notice to quit. As I stood smiling at her, she continued on with more explanation. I finally interrupted her and told her that she didn’t have to explain a thing. I completely understood. And then I told her about our situation and how I had been torn over breaking the news to her. We both broke into laughter and she told me that she hoped to find a job working at Kohl’s during the Christmas season. We agreed that her last day will be October the 1st. When I got home, I read her note that explained her situation and how much she has enjoyed being part of Mitchell and Rachel’s lives. What a relief to have that over with. And no need to feel guilty any more.
A pain in the knee…
Jerry is scheduled for knee surgery next Tuesday, September 16th. He needs to be at the hospital at 6 a.m. (all the way across town). I will get the kids up and dropped off at Angie’s and preschool and then I will drive to the hospital. The surgery is scheduled for 7:30. I will drive him home and we will worry about getting his truck home later. We will get a pair of crutches this weekend. Hopefully, I can get his prescriptions filled on Tuesday without too much waiting around. He seems to think he will be up and about in no time at all, but I know better. My mom just had knee surgery and went through weeks of physical therapy. They say the key in recovering and healing is in the physical therapy. Most people don’t want to do it. My mom had a tough time. She hated PT and she is now having to go through a second round of it. She used a walker for the first few days and recommended one for Jerry. Oh, I don’t know, but I just can’t picture Jerry using a walker. At least not for a few more years where we will both be set up at the rest home. I imagine a parking lot where everyone parks their walkers. (grin)
What have you done with my husband?...
Just last week, I was emailing with a few of my Secret Sisters. We had been sharing stories about our husbands. With the debut of fall and football season, we are bound to see them on the sofas with their remotes, especially when it starts to get dark earlier in the evening and the lawn will need less attention. I think we all agreed that we’d like more help and we’d like to not have to ask for it. I’d like more help with the kids, especially help getting them up and ready in the morning and help picking them up on some nights. It gets tiring “having to” be on such a tight schedule every single day and occasionally I need and want a break. Also, at home, I would like more help with the millions of little things that add up to a lot of work. Oh, I don’t know, I’d like a little help carrying the laundry baskets up and down the stairs, bathing the kids, taking out the garbage, cleaning the house, making dinner. Just so many things, really, but I don’t want to have to ask every time. And I refuse to make a “honey do” list. We live in a 2-story house and I will put things on the bottom steps that need to be carried upstairs—say, a basket of folded clothes or a package of diapers. Jerry would walk up and down the stairs, totally oblivious. If he noticed, he didn’t care, because these things would sit there for an eternity. One time I had a load of laundry sitting in a basket right outside Mitch’s room in the hallway. I mean, you’d literally have to trip to get around it. I was carrying another basket from our room and Jerry was in front of me. He stepped right over that basket and continued on down the stairs like it was perfectly normal for a basket to be sitting there. I guess, there was a sports page or sports magazine with his name on it just calling out to him, “read me, read me, hurry downstairs.” I think my biggest gripe was that I don’t want to be his mother in the sense of having to tell him, remind him, or ask him to help. I realize that he is a man, but that’s no excuse. You live here. You will help. OK, so enough background and complaining. There is a silver lining.
The Silver Lining...
I’m not sure what happened and I probably don’t want to know. But, I’ve noticed some big changes in Jerry. The first few times caught me by surprise and I was holding my breath, waiting for it to pass. On several occasions, I’ve found myself looking at him and thinking (but not saying), “what have you done with my husband?” I was waiting for the other shoe to drop, as I wondered, “ok, what have you done? What do you want? What is this going to cost me? What is the catch?” But, no. Starting two weeks ago, things just changed. One evening, I had picked up Rachel from school and we drove into the garage. I could see that Jerry was already home, and part of me was a little ticked because he had not called to let me know that he was home early or that he would pick up Mitch. And, Mitch was just 3 doors away, down at Karen’s house that day. So, I drove past our house and picked Mitch up and then turned around and parked in the garage. It was hot outside and I got both kids out of their car seats, we checked the mail and as we walked in from the garage, I could see that the back lawn was freshly mowed. We walked inside and Jerry greeted us at the door, all freshly showered and wearing his good cologne. Dinner was on the stove, and the kitchen was spotless. I was shocked! OK, so my jaw hit the floor. He took the kids (usually they are with me and follow me upstairs while I change clothes, etc.). The next day he called me as I was driving home through rush hour traffic and said he would pick up Mitch, and was there anything I needed him to do. Shock! This went on for several days (he picked up Mitch every day) and he also got up earlier in the morning and helped get Mitch dressed and loaded into his car seat while I tended to Rachel. He has made dinner, cleaned the house, done laundry (including folding!) and helped get the newspapers and other crap off the counters, etc. I hate clutter and it’s hard to stay on top of it unless it’s taken care of every day. Nearly every night since then he has pulled ahead during the day and come home early and picked up Mitch, he has started dinner for us, and while I have been busy shuffling Rachel back and forth to school and to church groups (Sunday evenings and Wed. nights), he's been busy keeping the house and kitchen in decent shape, he's played with the kids, taken them outside to play while I have some peace and quiet. I'm telling you, one night I loaded the dishwasher and the next morning I came downstairs and opened the dishwasher prepared to unload it. I pulled out the top rack with such force I nearly ripped it off its track because I thought it would be heavy and full of clean glasses from the night before. But, no. Apparently Jerry unloaded the dishwasher before I could get to it. I was shocked. And he told me not to enroll Mitch in preschool until the third week in October. Why? Jerry has his final week of vacation during the second week of October and he offered to watch Mitch for the entire week, not only to spend time with Mitch but so we wouldn’t have to pay for tuition that week. So, I emailed my Secret Sisters. I wanted to know which one of them emailed Jerry? Who put him up to this sudden change and what is the catch? Actually, I don’t want to know. I don’t want to change a thing.
Mitch…
We went to church this week, all four of us, for the first time. For the past two months, Rachel and I have gone together. Usually Jerry stays home with Mitch because it’s just easier. But, not only is Mitch old enough to stay in the nursery with other kids, but I want to attend church services with my husband. We took Rachel upstairs to her class and then we went downstairs to officially register Mitchell. We told them that we had never left Mitch in anyone’s care before. They said, “ever?” Well, yes, never. We knew he would probably cry, but they said it would pass within minutes. We handed him over and you would have thought he was being handed over to the Antichrist (I say that because I’m in the middle of the Left Behind series and the Antichrist is about the worst character I can think of). He started clutching onto Jerry’s shoulders and I think Jerry was more upset than I was. I said, “let’s just go, walk away, he will be fine.” We could hear him screaming all the way down the hall, but they assured us that they would find us if they needed us. We found our seats and enjoyed the worship service. I was able to focus on the message and wasn’t worried about Mitch at all. After the services, we sort of snuck up on Mitch. We could see him from the doorway, but he had not noticed us (yet!). He was sitting in a glider/rocking chair, perfectly content just looking around the room. As soon as he made eye contact with us, he burst into tears and raced out of the chair screaming like the Antichrist had been torturing him the entire time. He jumped into Jerry’s arms and sobbed, real tears and everything. What a character!! Jerry and I looked at each other, rolled our eyes, and burst into laughter.
Reality Bites…
When I picked Rachel up from school on Monday, the teacher handed me a bite report. “What’s this?”, I said. The teacher explained that another student bit Rachel and they are required to make a report of the incident and provide both parties (the biter and the bitee) with a written report of the incident, stressing complete confidentiality. I asked Rachel who bit her and she said, “Matthew!” So much for confidentiality. Apparently, he got mad because she was in front of him in line and he bit her in the shoulder (seems reasonable, no?). They cleaned Rachel’s shoulder with antibacterial soap and alcohol and then put ice on it. They pulled the biter aside and read a script to him which basically said, “look at what you did to Rachel (bitee), Rachel is crying and what you did hurt.” Then, they give the bitee a chance to express her anger or pain, and the biter is spoken to in a firm but serious tone. No skin was broken and Rachel didn’t seem bothered by it at all. I wasn’t worried because Rachel usually “milks” her boo-boos for all she can, asking for Hello Kitty band aids, etc., for the smallest scratch or scrape.
AWANA…
AWANA kicked off on Sunday night. There are 10 students in my class, ages 3 and 4. Our class is called the Lambs. They are all so cute at this age. We made it through our first flag ceremony where we pledged allegiance to the American and AWANA flags, watched a puppet show and did some singing and dancing. One of my students (Savana) clung to my right leg the entire time, she was so shy and a little frightened I think. She warmed up during the crafts session. We made puppets out of brown lunch bags. The kids got their books, bags, vests and patches and they put their attendance stickers on the chart. It was over before I knew it. On Wednesday, Rachel had her second Kids Praise meeting and she really enjoyed it. She made a craft which was a spider. It was made out of a cherry lollipop. They wrapped black pipe cleaners around the stick and glued some moving eyes onto the candy. I asked her if she wanted to eat it on the way home, but she said, “oh no, it has eyes, I can’t eat this.” She said, “this is one of Charlotte’s friends, it has eyes, and I can’t eat my friend.” (From Charlotte’s Web). I got a kick out of that one. She can’t eat it because it has eyes. Classic. She named it Rachel Charlotte Millimaki. Trust me, when she names it, she’s not going to eat it. We bought the music packet which included a CD of the music they will sing, along with some stickers, crayons, and a booklet. We are already listening to the music in the mornings and the theme of most of the songs is “bug-related.” She likes lady bugs best.
Halloween costumes…
Rachel got her new Disney magazine last week and has been busy flipping through it. She seems torn over which Halloween costume she will select. But I know she will pick Sleeping Beauty (a no-brainer) if for no other reason than the costume is (what else?) pink. Mitch seems very interested in the costumes, too, for the first time. He keeps pointing at Pooh and Stitch and Nemo. He loves Nemo and gets upset if we flip the page to another set of characters. Rachel wants him to wear a Pooh costume.
Mom, I need some tappin’ shoes…
Rachel came home from dance class last Friday a little disappointed because she didn’t have tap shoes. She said, “mom, I need tappin’ shoes.” I asked her what she meant and she said that all the other girls have their tappin’ shoes on at dance class. Apparently, I had my head in the sand again. I had not read the new registration packet yet, where it explained that the girls will begin with tap lessons in this next series of lessons. So, we must head to Stride Rite for our patent leather tappin’ shoes. Jerry’s parents called the other night and said they want to come for a visit. Rachel is over the moon about it, and has been telling everyone that her Grandma is coming to visit, “after she finishes visiting with Shelly.” We are really excited. Rachel can take Grandma to watch her at dance class, and she wants to take her to the Disney store to show her the Halloween costumes, and she wants to take her to church, and so much more. Hopefully Grandma will enjoy seeing life through her 4-year-old granddaughter’s eyes for a few weeks.
Warmly,
Megan
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