Fly on the Wall

Quarto, commenting on the thunderstorms accompanying a cold front overnight:

"Mom! I know why there wasn't any lighting in the back! Because it was a front!"

Flexibility

This is a cross-post from my other blog 11:36. (When you have problems keeping one blog updated, it is perfectly logical to begin a second one, right?) Enjoy!


My plan today was to be at the local Maker's Market selling. Then I found out that Primo had a rifle shoot scheduled, Secundo had a fencing lesson, and Terzo and Frodo had a camping trip scheduled... all when I was supposed to be at the market.

Sooooo...

I told Primo she couldn't go to the shoot (she has two others scheduled this month), Secundo could go to fencing, and Frodo would take Terzo camping, and I would hold-down the fort at home and go for a walk at the walking park.

Thennnnn...

Primo and Secundo were invited to a sleepover. Their friends are moving out of state this summer, so I want them to spend as much time as possible together. This didn't change my plans too much, though. My house just became the kid-exchange rendezvous point for Saturday morning.

Sooooo...

I get a call Saturday morning from sleepover mom that Secundo has a fever, so she is going to give her meds and let her rest until it's time to drop the girls off. This is quickly followed by a text from The Man's mom asking if Quarto is going to storytime with them today. (Quarto loves going to storytime with The Man, and The Man is moving this summer, too, so I follow the "hanging out with friends who are moving" philosophy and say he'll be ready to go in 20 minutes.)

Thennnnn...

I get another call from sleepover mom that they are on their way, but can Primo go to friend's little brother's soccer game with friend. I say yes. (See "Thennnnn...." #1) So she goes to the game (so I think... see below) and Secundo gets dropped-off and promptly falls asleep on the sofa. This results in my sending an email to the fencing instructor (can't find her phone number anywhere) letting her know that Secundo is sick and won't be at class. Quarto gets picked up for storytime. All is quiet.

Until...

Primo is dropped off by sleepover dad. She discovers new SpongeBob DVDs and disappears into my room (Secundo is still asleep in the living room) to watch them. (I got a call from sleepover mom about 20 minutes after Primo gets home apologizing for the miscommunication. Sleepover dad brought Primo straight home rather than to the soccer game. I thought that was a rather short game.) Then Quarto gets dropped off and quickly joins her.

Thus...

I am not at the park walking (although I guess I could go now that Primo is home and Secundo is asleep and Quarto is fixated on the TV), and I am not at the Maker's Market as a browser (the seller ship has passed). I am instead listening to Saturday NPR (one of my favorite things to do) and folding laundry and getting ready to plant some seeds then head to the grocery store. Not the day I planned, but a good day. I like good days. And it can only get better when Frodo and Terzo come home... I miss them.

Fly on the Wall

After lunch, Quarto and The Man were in the bathroom washing their hands and had the following conversation:

The Man: Remember that time we weed an X?

Quarto: Yeah, that was funny!

The Man: Hey! Next time we both have to wee, let's do it again!

Quarto: Yeah! Okay!


Sigh. Boys.

Fly on the Wall

Quarto is fascinated with weather, so yesterday morning when I turned on the weather radio to listen to the forecast, it was not a surprise when Quarto appeared within seconds and became fixated on the forecast himself. He would share his thoughts on everything being said to anyone who happened to be within eye-shot and shouting distance. (He is testing out a new tone - indignation, so every one of his comments was seething with it.)

As I entered Quarto's sphere of communication, he turned to me and the following conversation ensued:

Weather Man: The following is a severe weather alert for east Arkansas, the ...

Quarto: [indignantly] There is no such state as Arkansas!

Me: [with shocked laughter] Yes there is.

Quarto: Really? I thought they were making that up.


Arkansas... a conspiracy of cartographers, apparently (to quote Rosencrantz... or Guildenstern).

Theology Can Be Tough

The Children's Director at church decided to reward the kids with a pizza party if they learned X # of questions from the Children's Catechism (# depends on age of student). Quarto (age 6) learned 19 of his 20 questions but was stuck on "What is God?" The answer is "God is a spirit and has not a body like man." I was trying to help him the other day:

Me: "What is God?"

Quarto: "God is a.... a..."

Me: "Ssss.."

Quarto: "God is a... sin?"

Primo: (as an aside to me) "Ooooh... he's going straight to hell."

Then we all burst out laughing. (We figure he was thinking he had a 50/50 shot since the two big religious "S" words he knows are "sin" and "spirit.")

We kept working on it (obviously), and yesterday he didn't even wait until class to tell his teacher (the Children's Director) the answer. He ran up to her in the hallway, mouth full of doughnut, and yelled, "GodisaspiritandhasnotabodylikemancanIgotothepizza party!?" LOL!

Fly on the Wall

At the lunch table this afternoon:

Quarto: Dad? Can I eat the rest of my jellybeans tomorrow?

Frodo: No, you'd get a tummy ache.

Terzo: And be in a sugar comma.

Fly on the Wall

Uttered by Quarto (age 5) while hanging out with mom while the older three were at Vacation Bible School:


"Mom, when's it? Um.... when's it time to.... when's it time to collect the children?"

Schnitzel Von Krumm

A few years ago, friends from New Zealand introduced us to a wonderful little pup, Schnitzel Von Krumm and his very low tum. Terzo was the intended audience for these books, but never took to them as much as I did, so they spent most of their time on the bookshelf biding their time until someone would come along and appreciate them. Fast forward about 5 years, and they have found a fan... two actually.

Quarto and The Man (the three year old who becomes part of the family during the weekdays) LOVE Schnitzel Von Krumm... and yes, you must say his entire given name whenever reffering to him. It's just the way it is. Every day, we have a story time just before the kids go to quiet time, and every day for the last couple of weeks, Schnitzel Von Krumm has been enthusiastically brought as the day's selection.

Schnitzel Von Krumm is a dachshund with a very low tum who is quiet and lovable and doesn't ask much but to be surrounded by life's comforts - his family and his favorite beat-up, smelly, threadbare but comfy dog bed. His name and droopy little ears will immediately win your heart. If you are a little more difficult to woo, Lynley Dodd's playful artwork and engaging rhymes will have you hooked before you finish the first story.

Today, Quarto brought as his reading selection Schnitzel Von Krumm Forget-Me-Not.

However, the recent favorite of both Quarto and The Man has been Schnitzel Von Krumm's Basketwork.

I love reading this one aloud to the boys. A typical reading finds me reading along in the story,

He liked all the tatters,

he liked every tear,

the broken down edges,

the holes and the hair.

The smell was so friendly

and as for the fit-

if he needed to squeeze,

did he mind?

All this time the boys' anticipation has been growing. They've been squiggling and squirming and repressing giggles. They are so happy as I finish the line and then they burst out with,

"Not a bit!"

This joyous refrain is repeated numerous times throughout the reading, and each time the boys greet it with the same anticipation and glee.

There are many childrens books that I enjoy, but after the 20th reading in half-as-many days, I want to rip out my vocal chords after most of them. Not so with Schnitzel Von Krumm. I could read them over and over again... and I do. With a very happy and not-at-all hesitant audience.

Generally, you can tell which books in our library are well-loved because they are wrinkled and torn and dog-eared and probably have many, many patches of packing tape. The Schnitzel Von Krumm books do not have that "well-loved" look however... they have a "cherished" look. You can tell they aren't new - barely. They have been read over and over, but they are treasured. They are put away with care not to wrinkle them. They are closed when not being read or looked through and set in a safe place so as not to be accidentally trodden on. They are not used as magic carpets for action figures or barricades for army men. To the boys, they are Schnitzel Von Krumm, and they are treated like any well-loved canine best friend should be.

There are three books in the Schnitzel Von Krumm series, but our little dachshund friend did not make his debut in these books. He is actually one of three canine friends of the apparently popular series of books starring Hairy Maclary From Donaldson's Dairy (the books are very popular in Dodd's native New Zealand as well as in Australia and Great Britain, but in America, their fan base, although just as dedicated, is still very small). The Hairy Maclary series, also by Lynley Dodd, follows the antics of a hairy, rather shaggy little black dog who looks mysteriously like our own, aging Gideon. I have a feeling we will be adding the Hairy Maclary books to our library in the very near future. I know I can't wait to read them, and I will enjoy many more afternoon story times on the sofa with Quarto and The Man... I am sure I will enjoy reading these again and again as I have the Schnitzel Von Krumm books - no matter who else in enjoying them with me.

Wordless Wednesday

Because They're There

Fly on the Wall

This morning at breakfast:

Quarto: Mom, how many eggs is that?
Me: Ten.
Quarto: Ten?! That's crazy talk!

Fly on the Wall

Quarto: [casually, while putting markers away] Dad, what's sharper, a marker or a sword?
Frodo: [slightly puzzled] A sword.
Quarto: [with the tone of a schoolteacher amazed at his young pupil's apparent wisdom beyond his years] That's right!

We Call Him "Liberace"

The moth, not the kid.



It's a Dryocampa rubicunda or Rosy Maple Moth. (The moth, not the kid.) Here are some closer pictures (of the moth, not the kid):







And here's a picture of Quarto, or Homo sapiens sapiens, in his natural habitat (the kid, not the moth... just to make it fair and all):

Church Membership

In order to become members of the Presbyterian Church of America (PCA), as we are, you must affirm five vows:

1. Do you acknowledge yourself to be a sinner in the sight of God, justly deserving his displeasure, and without hope, except through his sovereign mercy?

2. Do you believe in the Lord Jesus Christ as the Son of God, and savior of sinners, and do you receive and trust him alone for salvation as he is offered in the gospel?

3. Do you now resolve and promise, in humble reliance upon the grace of the Holy Spirit, that you will endeavor to live as becomes a follower of Christ?

4. Do you promise to support the church in it's worship and work to the best of your ability?

5. Do you submit yourself to the government and discipline of the church, and promise to strive for its purity and peace?

Primo and Secondo took these vows at our church's Maundy Thursday service. They are the girls in the hats. The pastor with the dark hair is our head pastor. The pastor who looks like Santa Claus is our youth pastor. We love them. The other gentlemen are church elders. (We love them, too.) I think it's funny that when each man hugs Secondo, they act as if they are afraid to break her. *grin*

I apologize in advance for the incompleteness of the videos. This was my second attempt to use the video feature on our camera. (You can imagine how sad the first attempt came out.)








After the service, we enjoyed a delicious ham dinner. The kids loved eating at the Passover Seder table. You can see the girls in their hats in the background. Terzo is the one in the black coat in the foreground. (The coat was new, and he refused to take it off.)



Here are Terzo and Quarto enjoying their supper.



This church really knows how to host a supper!



This is the Seder Plate containing chazeret (bitter herbs representing the bitterness of slavery), charoset (sweet, brown, grainy mixture representing the mortar used by the Hebrew slaves in Egypt), karpas (a simple food dipped into salt water, representing tears, to remind us of the plain foods the Hebrews ate while in captivity), z'roa (roasted lamb shank bone representing the Pesach sacrifice now fulfilled by Christ, the Lamb of God), and beitzah (representing the festival sacrifice, or chagigah, and symbolizing mourning).



And lastly, Elijah's place.

Deja Vu A La Stephen King

I can't sleep. Every time I close my eyes, I hear it over and over again...

Thump!
Wail!
"Mom, blood!"

Thump!
Wail!
"Mom, blood!"

My eyes shoot open, and I have to stop myself from tip-toeing in to check on Quarto for the umpteenth time. My heart races. I have been reading like crazy to keep my mind occupied. Eventually I'll fall asleep, but it is usually very late and filled with tossing and turning once I finally do. I am hoping that sharing it here will help me purge my fear and allow me some restful sleep (I am writing this at almost 1am).

Last Sunday afternoon, we had friends from church over for lunch. I assumed that when they called to relate some car trouble around the time that we were expecting them that this was the "disaster" that would impede our getting together. This has become a joke between our families. Honestly, every time we try to get together, something happens... all the kids get sick at once, freak ice storms whip-up overnight, emergencies with extended family pop-up. We were joking about what could possibly happen this time. Their car trouble fortunately wasn't serious and someone else from church was already there giving them a hand, so it looked like we would survive the day with only a delay, no disaster. What's the saying? Don't count your chickens before they hatch? Yup. That would be the one.

I take advantage of the family's delayed arrival to whip-up some corn bread to go with our Dzik (cold beef salad) and Salmon Quiche. They arrive just as it is coming out of the oven. The kids run off to play while the grown-ups talk and figure out what our various picky eaters will eat. I start to take out paper plates so I can begin making some PB&Js for the picky eaters when that series of sounds that now haunts me first shatters the air:

Thump!
Wail!
"Mom, blood!"

The adults all go running. I am the last to arrive because I first start heading to the playroom. That is where all the kids were playing, last I knew. I should have been at the bottom of the stairs leading up to the bedrooms. Fourteen, steep wooden steps with an empty bookshelf and hard, wooden landing at the bottom... a bookshelf and landing now covered in blood (or so it seemed... there was a lot of blood). My three-year old, Quarto, is trying to get up and is adamantly announcing, "AC pushed me!" There is blood pouring down his head. It looks like it is coming out of his ear. All I can think of is a scene early in Pet Sematary... the bicycle accident on campus. It was the first Stephen King book I ever read and his description of that image of the cyclist's cracked skull with blood and brain tissue dripping over the curb has stuck in my head since. (Oddly, it was that wonderful description that created such a vivid image in my mind that endeared me to King's writing.) I am now re-seeing that image, but now it is my toddler's head, my toddler's blood.

Somehow, I hold it together long enough to grab a towel from the bathroom and get Quarto's insurance card out of my wallet and hand them to Frodo. Frodo wraps Quarto's head in the towel, sticks the card in his pocket, and flies to the car. After returning to ask our guests to move their car, he speeds off to the ER. I call ahead to let them know they are coming then call the church to let them know we will not be there to teach our class of 2 and 3-year-olds that evening. (Strange what we think to do, isn't it?) I then collapse on the floor and sob. I'm sure I was only there for a few minutes, but it seemed like ages.

My friend, Sunshine (really, that's her name), walks me over to the sofa. It is at this point that she realizes she has no idea where her baby is. Her husband, Rye, says, "I gave him to the tall one." Sunshine and I burst-out laughing. Rye has never been to our house before and has only spoken to Frodo and I at church in small bursts. Sunshine and I are the connection here, so he has never met my children. He apparently needed to hand-off the baby so he could clean the steps and knew that Sunshine and I were not up to the task just then, so he gave the baby to the next most responsible looking person in the the house, Primo. He didn't even bother to ask her name. *grin*

I decided that I had better check on my other kids, so I went into the playroom. There, Primo had put on a movie for everyone (The Emperor's New Groove, a very up-beat choice). She had Terzo under one arm and Secondo under the other. EMC2 had her baby brother on her lap. They all looked like they were in shock but no one was completely falling apart. I, on the other hand, felt myself ready to loose it again, so I went back to the living room to isolate myself with the adults and try to decide what to do next.

Rye was still cleaning blood off the stairs. (I found out later that Primo had cleaned up the blood that had dripped on the kitchen floor because it "freaked her out" and was "too stressful to look at"... where was I?) He had AC sitting on the floor next to him, and they were talking about what happened. "But he was chasing me," AC protested. "I don't care if he was chasing you, you don't push people, especially on the stairs," Rye reprimanded him. I was finally beginning to comprehend what had happened. It seems the boys were on their way up to the kids' room to play. Quarto was "running" (which generally takes the form of rapid crawling) up the stairs after AC and AC got upset with Quarto for being so close, so when they got to the upstairs landing, AC turned and pushed Quarto. I found out from Secondo later (she had apparently seen the whole thing but was too shocked to share what she had seen until we came home from the hospital) that AC was on the landing and Quarto had his hands on the landing but his feet were a couple steps down. AC turned around and pushed Quarto and Quarto spun and began sliding down the steps on his bum. About half-way down, he had tried to stand up and ended up doing two cartwheels down the rest of the steps. He hit his forehead once on the way down then hit his head on the bookshelf at the bottom (the haunting "Thump!").

After watching Rye clean Quarto's blood from the stairs for awhile, I began to panic again. My mind was reeling. "That's a lot of blood." "Where was it coming from?" "I wonder what is going on at the hospital." Apparently, I said this last one aloud because Sunshine said very authoritatively, "I'm going to take you to the hospital. Rye can watch the kids."

I went upstairs and grabbed some cash from my nightstand. Then I went to the kids' room and grabbed a backpack, a couple of Quarto's "towels" (cloth diapers that he snuggles when he sleeps), his stuffed dog and a couple books. I felt panic rising again because I couldn't find his favorite truck book. He needed that truck book. I finally realized that any book would be better than none, so I grabbed his favorite Baby Einstein book and flew downstairs. I grabbed my wallet and coat and the next thing I remember is that we were about half-way to the hospital. Sunshine said, "Get my cell phone out of my bag and take it with you."

Suddenly, we were at the desk in the ER, and I tell the receptionist that I am looking for Quarto. I realize that I am watching her face very closely. I am looking for that tell-tale shift from cheery welcome to sympathetic gaze. I am waiting for her to tell me to wait one second, that she'd be right back. I am waiting for the doctor to arrive and say, "Are you Mrs. Frodo?" I am waiting to feel my knees buckle as I hear a woman (who I will later realize was me) scream in utter helplessness. This does not occur. The receptionist remains perky and says, "Sure, he's right over here. Follow me." I am dizzy with relief.

Sunshine and I follow the receptionist into the inner sanctum of the ER. Quarto is lying on his bed looking a little sleepy, but awake and not crying. He smiles at me when I come in. Frodo is a little surprised to see me and becomes a bit flustered because he is trying to answer the questions of the nurse taking Quarto's history while updating me at the same time. Once the nurse leaves, we all settle in while Frodo updates us as to how they've been doing. Apparently, Quarto stopped crying about two minutes into the ride to the hospital... coinciding with the passing of a big truck. This began Quarto's typical non-stop chatter about anything and everything he could see out the windows all the way to the hospital. Frodo reassured me that Quarto seemed his normal self and that the hospital staff didn't seem overly concerned about him.

Once updated, Sunshine went out to the lobby to give us some time alone and to call Rye and let him know that Quarto seemed to be alright. (I think they were more concerned than we were on some level and felt very guilty that AC could have seriously hurt Quarto. I am sure that seeing Quarto alive and well was as much of a relief to Sunshine as to me.) Quarto was very happy that I brought his favorite "towel" to snuggle. It was quickly apparent that we would be at the hospital a while (we were still waiting 20 minutes later for some Tylenol), so I went out and told Sunshine that she could go back to the house and give Rye a hand. She told me to keep her phone in case I needed it and to keep them updated. I was so relieved to not have to worry about the other kids.

Once I was back in the room with Frodo and Quarto, a nurse practitioner came by and gave Quarto his Tylenol and had Quarto stand up and walk and made sure he had no pain in his neck and extremities. He seemed fine if you looked at him from his right. A normal, happy, slightly-tired toddler. You only knew something was wrong with him when you went around to his left side with all the matted blood. Right out of a Stephen King novel. The nurse practitioner (who was very pregnant... I was worried she would go into labor any minute) checked Quarto's head. Frodo was looking over my shoulder and said, "Ugh. It looks like a mouth." Not a pretty image. The nurse practitioner cringed. She recommended neck x-rays and a CAT scan (given how far he had fallen) and also had a nurse come and apply a topical pain reliever... both to relieve Quarto's pain as well as to make sure the area was numb when we came back from the tests so she could inject him with more anesthetic and put in the stitches. We were told that if his CAT scan showed a skull fracture (she was pretty sure the neck x-ray would come back clear, but was taking it to be safe) that we would have to be transferred to a different hospital where he could be monitored. The nurse practitioner seemed a little taken-aback when, in trying to make sure we were giving informed consent, we asked if the CAT scan was necessary (she had seemed a little hesitant at first recommending it, so we weren't sure if it was really necessary). She said that if it was her child who had fallen so far on such a hard surface, she may not have the CAT scan but that she would observe him very closely. She said that we could do the same, but she was recommending it because then we would know whether or not there was a fracture and we wouldn't have any nagging questions. We asked what could be done if the CAT scan revealed a fractured skull. "Nothing," she admitted, but then reiterated that he would have to be transferred so he could be put under observation. "The presence of a fracture could mean that there are underlying problems that we can't see yet." I called Sunshine to let her know that Quarto would need x-rays and a CAT scan and that we could be awhile, and she said to call us as soon as we knew the results. If Quarto did have to be transferred, they were going to find a way to get all the kids back to their house to spend the night.

Frodo asked if I was hungry. (Remember, this all happened just as we were getting ready to eat lunch, so we hadn't eaten since breakfast... a light, easy, pre-church breakfast almost 5 hours before.) Consequently, Frodo went foraging while I grabbed a book and snuggled with Quarto on his bed. We saw no sign of a nurse while Frodo was gone. The ER was jammed with patients (there were patients on gurneys in the hall awaiting rooms), so we weren't entirely surprised. Frodo dove into his snack... sneaking a few small pieces of Pop Tart to Quarto. My hunger had vanished since Quarto picked a snuggling position that had my nose directly over the nauseating, old-blood smell on his head.

Finally, an orderly came to take Quarto for his tests, and I got a nice ride on the gurney since they thought my staying with Quarto would help keep him calm. He loved the ride down the halls... especially the "bumps" that the orderly would warn us were coming. He desperately wanted to go on the elevator, but the elevator quickly paled in the excitement of the "tunnel", aka the CAT scan machine. He loved pretending that he was a train going through a tunnel, and he remained perfectly still when told. We then waited in the hall (I was back on the gurney with Quarto while Frodo was the designated coat and backpack holder), and Quarto examined every nook and cranny. He was fascinated by the sprinklers.

"What's those?"
"Sprinklers. They put fires out if there was a fire."
"They make fire?!"
"No they put it out by putting water on it."
"No. The fire trucks put the fire out."
"Yes, the fire trucks put the fire out, but the sprinklers are like little fire trucks."
"They put the fire out? Like fire trucks puts fire out?"
"Yes."
"Oh." (Pensive pause.) "What's that?" (Finding something else to spark his curiosity.)

In the x-ray room, I never even had to get off the gurney. The tech was wonderful, and covered me with a shield and moved the camera around the room to accommodate whatever position was most comfortable for Quarto while making sure she got a clear picture. While we were being wheeled back down to the ER, she stopped us to give Quarto some glow-in-the-dark x-ray stickers... which he enjoyed looking at after getting over his disappointment that she had stopped us just before we were about to go over a coveted bump.

I finally felt like eating when we returned to the ER, so Frodo dug-out the bag of pretzels he had foraged for me... again, Quarto was given a few covert "hush" bites. Frodo and I enjoyed our impromptu date as much as we could, and Quarto enjoyed having us all to himself. The novelty of the hospital began to wear off as Quarto's pain relievers began to kick-in, and he started asking to go home. We told him that we had to wait for the doctor to come back. He really wanted to watch TV, but we convinced him to look at a book instead.

When the nurse practitioner came back, she said that both the X-rays and the CAT scan had come back normal but told us that she would give us a sheet with signs to look for over the next couple days that might indicate a hidden trauma. All she needed to do was clean him, stitch him up, and get him some antibiotics and we could go home. The last time Quarto got stitches (remember last fall's freak coloring accident?), the doctor wrapped him up like a mummy in a blanket while an orderly held his head still. This time, the nurse practitioner just asked Quarto to lie on his belly and covered him with a blanket and covered his head with a sterile drape. An orderly lightly held Quarto's head still, and I rubbed Quarto's hand under the blanket. Frodo kept up normal conversation so the mood remained light. As the nurse began injecting the anesthetic, Quarto giggled! "I know it hurts," she said. "I think he's laughing," the orderly commented. "It tickles," Quarto confirmed. Under the drape, Quarto's hand began wiggling. I felt his fist and realized that he had found the syringe cap and was rubbing it with his thumb. The nurse practitioner cleaned the wound then began stitching. About half-way through, she commented on how good Quarto was being. "He's asleep," the orderly half-laughed. The nurse practitioner lifted the drape a little and sure enough, Quarto was sound asleep... still rubbing the syringe cap. The orderly released his light grip on Quarto's head and left to get another suture kit. All-in-all, Quarto received 7 stitches.

We let Quarto sleep until another orderly came in to get his weight. Because Quarto was still so sleepy, Frodo picked him up and the orderly had to take Frodo's weight with and without Quarto then use the difference to find Quarto's weight. Good thing Frodo was there to help the orderly with his math or Quarto would have ended up with a concentration of antibiotic twice as strong as necessary for his body weight! When the orderly left, I called Sunshine to let her know we would be leaving for home in about 20 minutes (I should have said 40... I was so happy to bring Quarto home, I forgot about the bureaucracy involved in checking-out). Frodo went to get the car.

After Quarto received his first dose of antibiotic (which he insisted tasted like lemonade, but both the nurse and I thought smelled distinctly like raspberries), the nurse went to get copies of Quarto's x-ray and CAT scan results (after I reminded her that we needed them), the nurse reviewed the danger signs that would necessitate us bringing Quarto back to the ER, and we waited for the billing nurse to finish her 20 minute conversation so I could take one minute to pay our co-pay, we were finally off. Quarto pointed out every truck and light and building on the way home.

As soon as we walked in the door at home, AC apologized to Quarto, Quarto apologized to AC (in a 3-year-old's mind, if someone apologizes to you, then you must apologize right back), and they ran off to play with toy trains together. AC didn't want to leave when it was time for him to go home, and Quarto was very sad to see him go. (The whole time we were at the hospital, Quarto was so afraid AC would have left before he could get home to play trains with him.)

It was nothing but God's Grace that kept Quarto's fall from resulting in a concussion, skull fracture, broken neck, or death. There is no other explanation.

Well, that's the saga. I hope this purging helps me get more restful sleep. Thanks for being my Penseive. Now I am going to check on Quarto and try to go to sleep.

Fly on the Wall

Last night we were sitting in the truck in the church parking lot waiting for Cub Scouts to start... I misread the clock, rushed everyone to get ready, helped Terzo prepare his "endangered species" report in 5 minutes, rushed everyone through supper, and got to the church 45 minutes early, sigh. I had all four munchkins with me because Frodo had to coach a baseball game (story for another day). The kids asked to be let-loose in the truck while we waited and proceeded to find ways to amuse themselves while I pretended that I meant to get to the church that early and updated my calendar, and read through the Usborne Illustrated Dictionary of Biology and What Are Food Chains and Webs? (the boys were making food chain posters at the meeting), and cleaned the truck, and...


At some point the kids became involved in some kind of game and their volume began creeping to ear-bleeding levels, so I told them that they needed to settle down. Quarto, always last to "settle" yelled, "A pie, Dummo!" Now, we've been having problems with Quarto and name calling, so whipped around and asked him to repeat himself. "I said, 'A pie, Dummo!'" he repeated, with both hands held up above his head. I told him that I didn't know where he learned that word (Dummo?) but that it wasn't polite even in joking and told him not to say it anymore. "Okay, Mom," he complied.

After I turned around, the kids resumed their game, and Quarto began pleading, "Me too! Do me! A pie, Dummo!" I broke out laughing and turned around to instruct the older kids that if they are going to teach their younger brother to play a game, they need to teach him to pronounce the accompanying words correctly. Primo said, "Quarto, it's like this: 'Up high. Down low. Too slow!'"

Fly on the Wall

Yesterday at Secondo's standardized testing:
Secondo emerged from the testing room, and I asked her how she thought she did. She said she thought that she did okay but that the math was hard. "You know the minusing with the two dots? Well, I figured that since minusing without dots is the opposite of adding, then minusing with dots must be opposite of multiplying, so I think I got that one right. It was six minus with two dots two. That's three, right?"

(Like I mentioned yesterday, we changed her math curriculum half-way through the year, so there are some topics that she had had multiple times and a few she hasn't had at all yet... like division. LOL!)


This morning while getting dressed:
Terzo- "Hey! It's St. Fool's Day!"


This morning during the sermon:
Quarto was sitting on Frodo's lap during the service this morning. In his sermon, our pastor was preaching on John 12; more specifically on Mary anointing Jesus' feet with perfume. The pastor was explaining that at the time, expensive perfumes were kept in alabaster boxes that would be broken open then could not be resealed. Quarto was listening and asked Frodo, "Boxes?" Frodo explained that Mary opened a box and a beautiful scent came out. Quarto responded with a contented sigh, "Mmmm, pepperoni pizza."

What's in a name?

Andie, over at and the mama, gave the background behind her kids' names and asked her invisible friends to do the same, so here we go:

Primo - means "first" in Italian
Secondo - means "second" in Italian
Terzo - means "third" in Italian
Quarto - means "fourth" in Italian

And while I'm at it:
Tutor - means "a person charged with the instruction and guidance of another; a private teacher" in both English and Latin (cool, huh?)
Frodo - means that my dear husband has many of the physical characteristics of the main character/ ring-bearer in C.S. Lewis' Lord of the Rings trilogy... namely, hairy feet. (Also, my dear friend, Angel at Aduladi' & Co., and I have dh's with the same first name, and we were frequently getting confused as to who we were talking about when using first names, so we decided the menfolk needed nicknames. My dh became 'Frodo' and hers became 'Mr. Clean'. )

Okay, joking aside (mostly), since I don't use our Christian names online for a reason, I won't share them here, but I will give some background as to where our kids' Christian names come from:

Primo - named after a murder mystery movie... just like I was. Her middle name is a cool-sounding name that was uncommon, sounded good with the first name, and was picked by Frodo. (Btw, this started our "baby naming protocol". Since I have known what I wanted to name my first daughter ever since I can remember, when Primo turned out to be a girl, it was a given that I got to pick the first name and Frodo would pick her middle name. With Secondo we swapped and Frodo picked her first name and I picked her middle name. With Terzo, we swapped again, and so on.)

Secondo - Was named after the main character in a popular piece of English literature. Her middle name comes from a combination of an attribute of God and the name of my Great Aunt's best friend. Sadly, we thought we were picking a very unique name at the time, and have since met many little girls with the same combo of first and middle name. Sigh. At least our little pixie is a trend-setter.

Terzo - Was originally named after a main character in a popular piece of American literature, but we were undecided whether to use the full version or the shortened version. We ended up using the full version after I had emergency surgery while 5 months pregnant with him and decided we wanted to maintain the full meaning of his name to celebrate his coming through the surgery unharmed... and glorifying the One who brought him through. Of course, we had to use the transliterated spelling... i.e. the unusual one. His middle name comes from the Christian name of a man integral to the Reformation.

Quarto - Frodo was undecided between three different first names for Quarto, so he let the other kids choose from the three. They ended up choosing a name that Frodo liked because it was the name of a student he taught who he thought was a neat kid. Quarto's middle name comes from a New Testament figure who is mentioned because of a special place he holds in the ancestral development of the Church. It is a rather unusual name, but people don't think it is that unusual after they find out that my first choice for his middle name was "Chingachgook"... aka "the last of the Mohicans".

Well, that's who our kids are and why. What about yours? Or share why you chose the virtual names that you did. Inquiring mind want to know.

Too Funny To Correct

Did your kid ever say something improperly, but you didn't correct him right away because his mis-speak was just too, stinkin' entertaining? That's what's happening to poor Quarto. He is the only kid on the planet that thinks those big, yellow machines that push dirt around on construction sites is called a butt-dozer.

We'll correct him eventually (we've actually tried, but for some reason he doesn't take us seriously when we try to correct him while laughing hysterically)... for now, we are just going to enjoy the free entertainment.

You know why they call it "testosterone"?

Because it makes little boys want to test their parent's limits. It should really be renamed "Calvinerone" since it causes Calvin-like behavior. We are actually considering changing Quarto's name to Calvin. Let me explain.

Frodo had gone to the store to buy us an air mattress. When he came home, it was time for the boys to go to bed, so he got Quarto settled on the kid potty. He quickly realized that Quarto was going to be awhile, so he went upstairs to begin dismantling our bed and setting up the air mattress. During these activities, I was in the midst of temperature taking, dish washing, kitchen disinfecting and other "flu-survival" activities with the girls, so I wasn't aware that Quarto was still sitting on the potty until Frodo called down (about 10 minutes into Quarto's potty time) and asked me to check and see if Quarto was done.

I popped my head into the bathroom and asked, "Quarto, are you done?" "Not yet," he replied, casually. I told him that I would be back in two minutes to get him dressed and brush his teeth. As I turned to leave, Quarto said, "Look what I do, Mom." I look, expecting to see a toy car he has brought with him or a boat or other tub toy that he often plays with while he sits on the potty. It was a tub toy that I saw, but I was quickly snapped out of my casual attitude.

Quarto was sitting on his potty... peeing into the tiny little opening on a fish-shaped water gun then shooting urine around the bathroom. "Look! I go far!" Quarto boasts of his shooting ability. I leave the bathroom immediately since my first instinct is to begin laughing hysterically and inform him that, being a boy, he could do-away with the plastic, fish-shaped "middle-man". I decide that walking away and calling Frodo to observe his youngest son's ingenuity would be more mature.

Frodo looks, rolls his eyes, sighs something that sounds like "Calvin", and goes back to setting up the mattress. I attempt to sound serious (i.e. control my snickering) while lecturing our three-year-old about why we don't shoot pee out of water guns then have him help me clean up the mess... what I can find of it. It still smells a little like a latrine in there. Sigh.

How do they come up with this stuff? It's gotta be the Calvinerone.