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.

A Blessed Thing

Introducing Presley Barbara Jane Dunn.

She was born Saturday night--July 11, 2009, at 9:37 p.m.; she came in weighing 7 lbs 3 oz and measuring 19 inches in length.

Her brother, Parker, told me today on the way home from the hospital that he thinks he's going to like baby Presley. This is just two short days after he snapped a popsicle stick in half and threw it across the room because "he wanted a boy!"

Her sister, Peyton, cannot keep her sticky little hands off her. I don't think there is one thing that Peyton doesn't like about Presley.

Her Daddy and I feel blessed beyond measure.

The Excuse Thing

1. My camera was lost/stolen/misplaced/eaten by the dogs sometime in late March, and since I include pictures in every post, I was unable to blog-function.
2. Pat and the kids got me a new camera for Mother's Day, but I haven't had the ambition to load the pictures from the camera to the computer. Messing with all those cords and buttons makes my eyes cross.
3. Our computer was down with a virus for most of the month of May, and a good portion of June.
4. A trip to Nebraska for Dad's Memorial Trail Ride and a trip to Minnesota to see Pat's family...purely exhausting.
5. Getting the kids into their shared bedroom so I could make Peyton's old room into the baby's room about drove me off the deep end. How do you take 2x the stuff and put it in 1/2 the space? And still have some sort of semblance to organization?

It's a top five for the record books...but that's where we've been. More details later. On my agenda today is getting pictures from the camera to the computer so that maybe one day I can write a meaningful post.

On the baby front...he/she is nearly here! I have to go to the hospital tomorrow morning for a distress test on the baby. The heart rate was really low yesterday at my appointment, so they ran a distress test yesterday. The HR increased, which is a good sign, but want to make sure things stay fine. If the baby doesn't respond well tomorrow, they will induce labor then. If he/she is still doing okay, they will wait until Monday to induce. I have to just monitor kicks while I'm at home to make sure the baby stays active. So far, so good.

The Behavior Management Thing

For the past several weeks I feel that all we have been doing is telling Parker "no," putting him in time out, and spanking his behind. Constantly. It begins on the way home from school, continues while I'm fixing dinner, then to bath time, and, basically, until the kid finally falls asleep at night. He's either fighting with Peyton, sassing one of us, banging his silverware on the table, climbing on the counters, making a mess in the bathroom sink, terrorizing the dogs, peeing in public, stripping the couches of their cushions and using them as a trampoline, swinging the bat inside the house, jumping around in the bathtub, fighting with Peyton, shooting his pop gun at the tv screen, tipping back on his chair at the dinner table, blowing bubbles in his milk with his straw, chasing Peyton around the kitchen counter, hanging on the doorknobs, or getting out of his bed for the millionth time at bed time. The kid is reverting back to behaviors that I thought we took care of two years ago.

But now he has a sassy mouth to go along with it, and has built up a tolerance for our discipline managment system.

And this discipline thing is exhausting to me.

One of my brilliantly wise friends, Jessica, told me about a marble jar discipline system that her babysitter uses. The kids fill up their jars of marbles and they get to choose a special treat, like going to a movie or getting a toy from the store or possibly getting mommy out of the house and sending her to the spa. :) I'd heard of this strategy a couple of other times, but didn't think it would really work. We've tried sticker charts with both of the kids but they have never worked.

Or I've never worked with them...I'll admit, I get as bored as the kids with just seeing a line of stickers compiled at the end of the day. I need something more.

But I had to try something because, like I said before, this discipline thing was kicking my butt. I was not enjoying going to bed every single night to face the Lord and say, "Forgive me for sucking as a parent! But I don't know what else to do with this child!"

I made up a general list of ten things that the kids could do to earn a marble. Parker helped me type up the list, and helped me define some of the what might be considered ambiguous terminology, like "respect" and "right" and "wrong." For example, they can get a marble for first time obedience, which is pretty cut and dried. I ask you to do something, you do it right away, you get a marble. Feeding the dogs, putting your dishes in the sink...easy. But "be respectful" can mean a lot of different things, especially to a three and five year old. I was thinking "please" and "thank you," "yes, ma'am" and "no, sir." Parker was thinking "no farting without saying excuse me" and "no tattle-telling."

So we all got on the same page, got our rules up, decorated our marble containers (which are actually recycle yogurt containers instead of jars), and got down to business. They were earning marbles left and right. We had our troubles here and there, but for the most part, the kids were almost fun to be around again. We started our campaign on a Thursday night, and by Sunday, both kids had their containers full of marbles. Peyton chose to go see "Monsters vs. Aliens" with Pat, and Parker chose to get a new bakugan (sp?) from the store.

When Parker and I got home from the store, I emptied their containers of all the marble they had earned.

Parker was less than thrilled about having to start over.

Later that night after Parker had helped Pat walk and feed the dogs, Pat told Parker he deserved a marble for doing the dog chores.

Instant whining.

"What's wrong, Parker? Don't you want to get marbles and earn another toy, or a trip to the movies?" Pat asked.


"No!" Parker said. "I'm tired of all this marble work!"

Some days, you just can't win.

The Prayer Thing

Growing up, I knew three basic prayers:
1. our family dinnertime prayer, which our whole family recited together before most, if not every meal together
2. the Lord's Prayer
3. the desperate "Oh, God, help me!" or some version thereof.

Then I met Pat, who added some spice and variety to my prayer life. I would just fold my hands, bow my head, and listen to his conversation with God. I was so happy that Parker and Peyton were learning this practice from their dad, too. I love that they are comfortable enough to tell God what is on their pre-school minds.

This was until we spent the majority of last summer at home in Nebraska, and we fell back into the tried and true dinnertime ritualistic prayer.

You'd think we grew up Catholic or something.

And, since Ty, their cousin, already knew this prayer, Parker and Peyton were even more determined to learn it and use it once we returned to Texas. We can't even say "Ay-men" anymore because Ty says "Aww-men."

The kid has made quite an impact on my two.

Anyway, it wasn't until a couple of months ago that the kids started to say their own prayers at our dinnertime. A couple weeks ago, while we were waiting for everyone (Parker) to calm down, sit down, and get their fingers out of their food, Parker was blah, blah, blah-ing while Peyton had her hand folded and was ready to roll.

And with the most serious look on her face, Peyton said, "Pawkaw, Jesus really doesn't want to hear that."