A Three-Month-Old Precious Thing

Presley turned three months old this weekend. She is:

• Sleeping consistently through the night


• Eating every 3-4 hours


• Smiling, and has giggled a couple of times


• Starting to suck her thumb--her left thumb--and she puts her right fist behind her head like she is "striking a pose"


• one of the most precious things I have ever laid my eyes on!

An Anticipated Thing--Parker's First Day

Today, finally, Parker began his trek through public education. If the beginning is any indication of what is to come, Lord help us all.
This week has already come with it's share of obstacles--Parker's funky virus that was here, then gone, then here again--but we were faced with yet another when it came time to get dressed for the day.
I had picked out a pair of nice but comfortable khaki shorts and a collared shirt. It was a casual outfit, I thought, but also a little dapper-ish. He wears it to church sometimes, or out to eat if we are going somewhere nice.
He shot it down. Totally. Told me he couldn't play in clothes like that.
After all, kindergarten is all about playing. Forget reading and writing and 'rithmatic.
Obviously he's paid too much attention to what Pat wears to school every day--t-shirt and gym shorts. Because after Parker put on his chosen outfit of a t-shirt and shorts, he asked, "See Mom, doesn't this look more appropriate?"
Seriously--appropriate? Where'd that come from?
So here he is, showing off his backpack, and his kindergarten-appropriate outfit.

And here he is with his two great buddies, Maddie and Anna. What a relief to see a familiar face on your first day of school, when everybody else knows what to do and has already made friends and already knows and loves their teacher....

At least that's what I was thinking when I saw them walking up the sidewalk.

And here is Parker with his teacher, Mrs. Baty. I love her already.

Bobbi asked me last week if I would cry when I dropped Parker off for his first day. I said probably. Or perhaps cheer and do back flips all the way out of the building.

Since I was carrying two Sponge Bob umbrellas in one arm and Presley in an a infant carrier in the other, and since Peyton would have been witness to the freak that she calls her mother, I abstained from any sort of celebration.

Didn't feel much like it, anyway. Was I relieved? Yes. We got Parker to school on time this morning, delivered him safely to yet another milestone in his life.

Cause that's what this journey is so much about, anyway. God put us here to help His kids--our kids--get from one point to the next.

Sometimes those stops are significant, sometimes they aren't.
Sometimes we get there on day one, sometimes we don't arrive until day four.

I'm just glad I get to ride along.

Second Verse, Same as the First

Day Two of Kindergarten will be spent, once again, on the couch in the living room. Looks like that's where we'll be riding this virus out, as the doctor told us yesterday that Parker's symptoms do not indicate a concussion, but a funky virus. We're just hoping it won't develop into the flu, which right now looks like might be the case. He finally kept down food for the first time in over 24 hours last night, so I think we're on the road to recovery.

I'm pretty positive that this illness has been worse for me than for him. I would like to say that he cried sorrowful tears at not being able to attend his first day of kindergarten, but that would be a flat out lie. To say that about his mother might be closer to the truth. A lady in the elevator at the doctor's office actually suggested that Parker could, perhaps, be faking this illness as to avoid school. Seriously? Seriously. This kid has, for the past 12 hours, puked on demand? voluntarily moaned through the night waking his father and I every hour? and was able to raise his body temperature three whole degrees on cue?!? Because if that's the case, we're not messing around with kindergarten, baby; it's straight to the big screen for us for some MON-NEY. No, if Parker really didn't want to go to kindergarten, we'd see a big fat fit on the kitchen floor before we'd see vomit on my rugs.

So stay tuned. Hopefully tomorrow we'll have good news to post!

The Dardest Thing--First (Sick) Day

Here are Parker's things--his backpack filled with a rest towel, signed papers, a letter to the teacher, an extra set of clothes, along with his lunch of a peanut butter sandwich, pretzels, apple slices, pudding, and gatorade--all ready to go to Kindergarten:

Here is Parker--with a 101 degree fever, and bowl to catch his vomit--NOT going to Kindergarten:

So instead of celebrating his FIRST DAY OF KINDERGARTEN, we are celebrating his FIRST SICK DAY of KINDERGARTEN. He started complaining of a headache last night around five, layed down and fell asleep, and woke up a few hours later vomitting. At first I thought he was just nervous for school, but then Parker and Pat reminded me that Parker had hit his head on his headboard when he went to bed last night. Concussion? We woke him several times through the night, and the vomitting stopped, but then woke up this morning with a fever. Ugh. Poor kid; it's just his luck. (He was sick on Christmas Day, even!) How awful it felt to call his elementary school this morning to report his absence, thus ruining his chance for perfect attendance for the ENTIRE year. Could life be any worse?

Peyton did go off to her first day of pre-school, which we obviously had not paid enough attention to, because as we were walking out the door, she said, "Now it can be MY special day of school."

I am so responsible for her second-child syndrome.

It's Tuesday

This story actually originated last Friday, when Peyton woke up with a hacking cough. Just a cough. But as a precautionary action, we didn't allow Peyton contact with Presley. Just in case. She wasn't happy, but Pat took her and Parker to the water park to smooth things over.

By Friday night, Peyton had a 101 degree fever and hissing, wheezing breath when she went to sleep. I gave her some Tylenol and she coughed and hacked all through the night.

Day Two (Saturday), I took her to the doctor which I normally wouldn't do but a newborn in the house drives a person idiot crazy. Peyton has a nice case of croup, which the doctor treated with a prescription for a steroid (ragh!). She had to take three doses of the prescription, one per day, and so we decided that she wouldn't be allowed to hold/kiss/hug/touch/breathe on Presley until her prescription was finished. It has nearly brought the death to poor Peyton, because she is on Presley like stink on you-know-what. She can't leave her alone. She wants to help feed, bathe, change, dress, and rock that poor little baby all the time.

So here we are, it's Tuesday morning, and the first words out of Peyton's mouth were, "It's Tuesday! I can hold Presley today!" However, I have my reservations, because although Peyton's fever is gone and her orneriness is back, she still has a lingering cough, one of which she doesn't always remember to cover up to keep those nasty germs muffled inside her own germy self. So this Tuesday is bound to be another fight.

The Greatest Thing

1. Bringing home a new baby.

2. Hearing Presley unintentionally giggle in her sleep.

3. Listening to Peyton's theories about the source of a baby's nourishment.
And then grimmacing when she shares those theories with our pediatrician.

4. Her grunts, groans, and otherwise sweet noises.

5. Watching Parker grow into a sweet and caring big brother.

It may not John McNally's idea of the greatest thing, but I can't think of anything better right now. This is why God allows us to pro-create, and I totally understand why He wants to call us all His (of course He doesn't have to worry about potty-training and college, either). The fog from the first week and a half is starting to thin, or perhaps I'm just getting used to functioning on 5-6 hours of interrupted sleep each night. Either way, we are simply IN LOVE with this little girl.

A Bitter-Sweet Thing

A year ago today, we buried our Dad. Here's the message we delivered at his funeral--his eternal "messages" to us:

One thing about it, we will hear Dad's voice in our ears--and in our hearts--forever. There are a few quotes of Dad's that have become quite famous in our house. We'd like to share them--the clean ones anyway--with you this morning. Now let me warn you--it's not as if we always enjoyed hearing these words--this advice--from Dad. Each of us girls has a unique story that connects us to these often-heard statements. But it was through these words that Dad taught us who and what he wanted us to be about.

#1. "When was the last time you checked the oil in your car?"

Most of the time, we rolled our eyes at this comment, but here's the lesson I think he was trying to teach us: Take care of your stuff. Learn to take responsibility for how you live and what you do. Be independent.

#2. "Get back up on that horse and show him who's boss!"

Raising horses was just about as important to Dad as raising girls. When one of us would get thrown by a horse, Dad made us pull ourselves off the hard ground and get back on, no matter how scared or "hurt" we thought we were. Dad wouldn't let us let the horse win. Unfortunately for Dad, this one backfired, because he ended up raising five bossy girls. (Just ask Pat and Greg.) But more importantly, it taught us to be assertive, be leaders, and to take charge.

#3. "You gotta take the bad with the good."

Romans 5:3-5 says, "And not only that, but we also rejoice in our sufferings, because suffering produces persevernce; perseveranc, character; and character, hope." Dad talked about taking the lows with the highs when we were experiencing a "bad"--a lost game, a white ribbon at the fair, an unruly child, or any other time it seemed our situation came up short of our grand expectations. It seemed that Dad knew that experiencing these struggles would teach us patience and perseverance.

#4. "If you are going to do something, do it right."

Whether sweeping the floor or accepting a new job, Dad didn't want us to do anything halfway. The lesson: Put your heart into it--whatever "it" is. Don't always look for the easy road or the shortcut. Take your time and do the job right.

#5. "Hey, ya did all right."

We heard this most of the time when we didn't do okay. For example, Denise always disqualified in the poles or barrels at the fair. Afterwards, when she would sit on her horse and pout about it, Dad would pat her on her knee and say, "Hey kiddo, you did all right." Ironically, he would never congratulate us when we really did do something extraordinary. but to Dad, you "did all right" as long as you worked your hardest and tried your best.

#6. "The wink"

Sometimes lessons didn't always come in the form of words. So often Dad's message of forgiveness, acceptance, and love came in the form of a simple wink. If there was ever one of us in trouble (and we did get into our share of trouble), at the end of the storm, we would sometimes get a simple wink from Dad. It was his way of telling us that things were okay, and that life goes on regardless of the mistakes we've made or the trouble we're in.

We won't see the wink again, or hear these words again from Dad's mouth here on earth, but--like it or not--those lessons are with us forever and worth remembering for a long time. A lot of these lessons were not always easy or fun to learn--let alone for Mom and Dad to teach. Our house was far from the textbook, model classroom to say the least. Dad made mistakes. We made mistakes. But one thing that I am sure of: God doesn't make mistakes. And for Dad,

right now, things are just as they should be.

We miss you, Oldie. Winks.