Wednesday, October 3, 2012

Nightmares on Sesame Street, Raleigh Tour, and More Exorcist Behavior in the Vehicle

I can stay up until 4:30 am, no problem.  Matter of fact, I used to work third shift, 7 pm to 7 am...4:30 never bothered me.  But, waking up at 4:30 am??  That's a horse of a different color....and that's just what I had to do yesterday morning.  Our homeschool group had a trip planned to visit our state capitol, Raleigh...we were to tour the capitol building, the legislative building, the NC Museum of History, and the NC Museum of Science....exciting times.
I was initially a little anxious regarding the trip...a three hour drive.  You KNOW how our last drive to a homeschool field trip turned out: http://www.homeschoolinghomesteadinginthepresent.blogspot.com/2012/01/projectile-vomit-in-moving-er-non.html  Yeah... not cool.  But, I thought, surely that was a one time thing and could never happen again.  Just in case, though, I took THREE plastic trash bags...so it would be contained and not turn into asteroids.
To give you a little background info, in my blogging absence, I have started baking and decorating cakes to sell...  (I'll post some pics later).... because with homeschooling four kids, going back to school full time, and trying to keep up with the house, laundry, and meals just wasn't enough.  0_o So, anyway...I have this order for three dozen birthday cupcakes with Elmo related fondant stuff on top....and I've had that on my mind...along with the Rubber Ducky cake.  Anyway, so, Monday night, I got the kids to bed, did my homework, and finally climbed into bed about 11:30.  Of course, since I normally go to bed between 1-3 am, I was tossing and turning and thinking to myself, you better hurry... only 5 hours of sleep if you go now.... and then, you better hurry...only 4 1/2 hours of sleep if you go now...and then...you better hurry...well, you get the picture.  Normally, when I lie in bed at night, I think of the cakes that have been ordered and how I can decorate them...soooo, I was thinking of Elmo and trying to hurry and go to sleep.
And that's when it happened... I started dreaming the most psycho dream of all time.  Nightmare on Sesame Street.  To begin with, I was in this big dimly lit house...and there were people lying all over the floors, which I took to be vampires.  And I was a little afraid, but understood that as long as I didn't turn on the light and wake them, I had nothing to fear. (Yes, I know that they usually sleep during daylight, but I obviously have no control over my dreams.) At any rate, I was looking down the hallway and saw a shadow pass the already darkened doorway.  IT WAS A FREAKING MAN SIZED FURRY RED LEG....AND I KNEW IT WAS ELMO....AND I WAS SCARED! In my defense, it was very creepy.  VERY.  As in, my heart started thumping and I knew that in reality, those vampires weren't the monsters, ELMO was.  And I started trying to get away.  And then there was Big Bird.  Granted, I never saw their faces....it was those legs and the ominous foreboding  surrounding them.  I tried to run down the hall and get out of the house...and looked outside in a panic for an escape...but, I knew I would get spotlighted in the street light.  My heart was freaking pounding...  I kept seeing shadows of legs and Big Bird was reading this list...and I KNEW it would end with my demise...  and then I woke up...and my heartbeat was erratic and I might have prayed..because I know evil when I see it. Well, unless it's dressed nice and then sometimes I miss it...but, MOST times. But, seriously ..THINK about it... that laugh that Elmo has is borderline psycho...  hahahaha ...hahahaha....hahahaHA...  he's like a clown on speed. And Big Bird???? Do you know the choice method of suffocating someone??  yeah, that's right....a FEATHER pillow...what do you think Big Bird IS???  He's a freaking giant feather pillow, people.  Forget vampires...and Elm Street... what we should be fearing is SESAME STREET.
Ok, having said, that ....I didn't sleep AT ALL. So, we are up and at 'em at 4:30 am and on our way to Raleigh.  I remember thinking, cool!  Maybe I'll see my first sunrise. haha Only around 7, I was like, DANG...what time *does* the sun come up, anyway?  But, it was raining and foggy, so....   About two hours into the drive, guess what I hear??  Yep.  "Mom, I feel sick." Oh.freakin.no.  Not.again.  And my child that sits beside the puker immediately whimpered and hid under his hoodie.  The child in front of puker cowers into the crevice of the seat and makes her/himself as small as possible. I grimace, brace myself, and shove my coffee as far down as possible. And then it begins.  Poor, poor hurler.  In a matter of an hour and a half, hurler went through three trash bags.  And of course, the other three were shouting, Mom!! Do something!  Pull off!! DO something.  I used to be a hurler.  Ok, I still am.  Like, EVERY.SINGLE.TIME we went somewhere, I would have to puke.  It's the car sick thing.  There's no getting around it...except Dramamine. So, once again, I have to detach from the caravan and head out on my own.  We notify the others, find an exit, and get some fresh air, a cold drink, and some DRAMAMINE. only it was too late to take it, because we were almost there...it was for the trip home. So, I have my paper with directions to the Capital and as I'm proceeding, another mom calls me and says, where are you now?  And I tell her and she's trying to give me helpful pointers so I won't make the same mistakes they did.  I'm going down a street running North/South and my directions say to turn on E Lane Street.  And I see it...and I really, really want to turn down it...but, she's saying, NO!  Wait and turn down N Edenton Street.  And I usually suck at directions, but I'm even thinking, how the HECK am I going to turn down a North street when all the streets perpendicular to me are running East/West???  But, I say, whatever...maybe I'll turn a curve and suddenly be going East/West.  haha.  THEN, I find myself in a run down section of town and I'm thinking GREAT...I gotta get outta here.  So, I turn around...in a bail bonds place parking lot.  And as I am driving up the street, this questionable looking guy runs out into the street waving both arms above his head for me to stop.  And I was like, OH HADES, NO!  There ain't NO WAY I'm stopping for you, dude.  And then his friend runs out beside him...and he's waving his arms... and I had this onslaught of thoughts... what if someone is dying and they need help??? what if they are PRETENDING someone is dying so they can kidnap us and take my money??  what if I stop and they pull a gun??  what if I stop and they take my car??  what if.......  and that's when I notice the signs that say DO NOT ENTER.  oh.the.freaking.horror.  It was a one way street. They were trying to HELP me.  *CRINGE, BLUSH, SHRIVEL*  I turn around, drive back by them, hang my head in shame, roll down the window, smile sheepishly and apologetically and say, Ummm...thank you so much. To which the guy says with much hand gesture, "I tried to tell you, that's the WRONG way, baby!!" ...and just shakes his head.  Lesson for the day:  be safe but don't freaking judge.  Angels come in all sizes, shapes, colors, and modes of dress.  Just like the devil can be all shiny and pretty and misleading...angels can be all disheveled and unseemly. It was a good lesson for the kids...and myself.   At any rate, following that, we found our way to the parking lot, no problem.
I'll tell you about the tours we took later...they were pretty cool!  

Wednesday, April 11, 2012

Helpful or Not?

Really??  Should I try dialing from Isaac's toy phone?  Thanks, guy. Nice to know I can call and get help.  :)

Schoolin

On top of all of this, three kids were playing rec basketball and I decided to go back to school full-time.  Dang ...color me saturated in things to do.  I'm going back for my teaching degree...not that I feel I *have* to have it...not that I'm fixing to stick the kids in public school and quit homeschooling...I guess it was a plethora of reasons.  I actually like to learn.  Also, I think it's nice to have something to fall back on...just in case.  And ...well....  there may be other reasons, but until we have tea together and bond, I'll keep those to myself :)

So, this semester I've been taking Anthropology, Geography, English, and Art Appreciation.  I'm almost finished with the first two years and then I'll transfer to a four year college for the last two years. 

I gotta tell you...taking online classes???  Waaaay different than classroom.  For all the class discussion you would do, you have discussion boards, and read and comment, and read and submit, and take a quiz online....  Dang!  It's a lot to keep up with ...and there are times when I feel overwhelmed and I've missed a quiz because the kids are playing championship games and my goat is dying and I'm getting stitches...ok...and perhaps because I wait until the last minute....but, still man, I love a challenge.  I'm enjoying learning.  I'm enjoying pushing myself a little.  Well, until Friday night at 11:58....2 minutes before an assignment is due, and I'm sweatin like a mad dog trying to submit before 12.  :)

Removing Stitches and an Asthma Scare

The day after Annie died, my stitches were driving me nuts!  I called my nurse friend, after googling "how to remove your own stitches" and asked her if there was anything I needed to know before I went for it.  Pulling them out was actually pretty easy because I had been rocking them back and forth for days trying to keep them loose and to keep the skin from sticking to them.  I actually think this was making them more raw and tender and I didn't consider the fact that I might have been pulling germs down into the wound on the stitch.  Ew.  So, I cut them with cuticle scissors and pulled them out.  The thing is to cut the stitch close to the knot, grab the knot and slide it out.  I washed the area with peroxide, added antibiotic ointment, and a bandage and voila!  It was kinda cool.  I could totally pull yours out for you.  :)  Funny thing, since removing my stitches, if I rub across that area on my thumb, it's like a guitar string vibration all the way up to the tip of my finger.  Strange.  And still, if I bump it on something, even though it's been two months, sometimes it will feel like the area is still raw and unhealed.  Hmmm...  Oh, and even though the cut was on my thumb, my hand was bruised from my thumb all the way down my wrist. It was very impressive to look at.  Especially since it was my first stitches...I found that whole thing fascinating.  Well. mostly. I found it very UNfascinating when I had a hard time unscrewing lids and not being able to really get a hold of anything because gripping put pressure on the wound.  THAT was annoying.

The weekend following the weekend that Annie died, or maybe it was the weekend after that weekend.....are you confused yet??  Me, too.  Okay...ONE weekend in there, I was planning to go run..er, jog..er, interval train.  Yes, I WAS doing that....very frequently.  I am NOT a runner....took me forever to get up to running a mile without stopping.  Anyway, I had worked my way up to about 3-5 miles.  The first mile running nonstop, and the rest completed doing interval training....brisk walk a lap, jog a lap, brisk walk a lap, jog a lap...  And it was not only helping me physically, but allowing me to de-stress a little, as well.  When you're a homeschool mom, hiding in the bathroom really doesn't achieve the whole "time alone" quality that you crave sometimes.  ;)  So, on my way to the track, I stopped by the barn and just barely patted Snowflake on the head.  BAD MISTAKE.  I'm not sure if that had anything to do with the events that followed, but it could have. So, I get to the track and start running my mile.  I get about half way through it and think, dang...my chest is killing me...and then I immediately think, "eh, don't be a pansy...everyone's chest hurts when they run"  and I keep running.  And then I start coughing non stop and begin feeling a little faint.  So, I decide to go home...after only about 15 mins.  On the way home I realized that after I had touched Snowflake's head (Snowflake being a goat, and I am very allergic to my goats) I had a hair on my tongue and I got it off with that hand. Ugh.  I get home and decided to lie down on the floor because I felt so light headed. My chest was still really tight and I felt I couldn't get enough breath.  It was starting to freak me out a little.  I wasn't even sure if I could use my rescue inhaler since I had JUST used it on the way to the track.  And then when I tried to talk, my speech was a bit incoherent....I couldn't get my words to form correctly.  My limbs started feeling like jello and I felt really weak.  I eventually sucked on my inhaler for dear life....well, as much as I could while feeling like I couldn't get any air.  The whole thing was just freaky...actually scared me a bit.  So, I haven't been back to run since then.  I did, however, purchase Jillian Michael's video "Ripped in 30 Days" and I have to tell you...that is pretty awesome.  It's divided up into 4 weeks....each week is a different set of exercises that will  KILL challenge you :)  I am enjoying it.  I'm on week three...I decided to do each week 2 times so it will last longer than 4 weeks.  ok...and because the second week I only did 2 days and it just felt like I cheated so I did it again the next week ...and then I decided that was a pretty good idea so I continued it.  :)
"And that's all I have to say about that." - Forrest Gump

Tragedies of Kidding

Gosh.  I missed y'all. <3

My last post left off when I had to get stitches because I cut my hand on the chicken pen.  And had to get a tetanus shot....EVEN THOUGH THE TIN WASN'T RUSTY.   just sayin....

Eight days later, the farm changed.  The kids and I were getting ready to go on our weekly library, grocery, whatever-else trip when the boys came running in and said, "MOM! Annie had her baby!"  Annie is the milk goat.  So, I grab the camera and we run outside.  We get up to the fence and there's the baby......all nice and dry and gingerly walking around.  Mom and baby had bonded...which you LOVE to see after you have a mom that will not bond with baby.


Since my milk goat has always done SO well with her babies, I decided she had it under control and I left to go get groceries with Sarah.  About an hour later, one of my boys calls me and says something is wrong with Annie.  Just to put it out there, before I left I saw that she still had some discharge but I chalked it up to afterbirth.  She didn't act in pain or anything.  In retrospect, I should have never left.  I should have just put off errands for another time.
I came home and realized she had been trying to have kid #2.  Imagine my regret for leaving.  Kid #1 was fine... Annie was not.  So, I google kidding (WhatEVER did I do before Google???) and find out the different positions the baby can be in.  I go outside armed with gloves, lubricant, and iodine and say we have to go in.  My husband tried first to no avail.  So, I figured what the heck?  My hand and arm is smaller...maybe I can find something.  I pull a glove over my stitches... and begin to feel inside my goat for kid parts.  My first concern was that the fur on the kid felt a little dry inside.  Not good.  I felt around but couldn't seem to find the legs.  Now I know that sounds weird.  I mean, it seems like it should be easy to go logically from body down to legs, but it wasn't happening.  Initially, I thought that the kid was rump first because it felt so rounded.  Because I'm allergic to goats, my arm started welting up and itching so I had to quit.  Husband tried again with no luck.  I decided to call a friend and see if they could help.  By this time it was getting dark and I knew the only thing we were doing was trying to save my milk goat. My friend and her mom came over and they, too, had no luck.  They left to find someone else.  Eventually, we realized that the baby was coming shoulders first, but its head was back on its right shoulder and its legs were straight down underneath its body.  Late that night, my husband managed to pull the kid out.  Of course it had already died and the focus was strictly saving the mom.  I met a friend of mine in town who had brought me some electrolytes and Red Cell to aid in her recovery.  By morning, I originally thought she was doing better.  She had moved from her previous position and had her head up.  It quickly came to my attention that she was not doing well at all.  Even after the electrolytes, penicillin, and Red Cell, she began yelling loudly, her eyes were rolling back in her head, and her head was banging the tin wall.  It was absolutely gut-wrenching.  Sarah and I both were bawling our eyes out.  It wasn't long before she heaved her last and then relaxed in death.  It saddened me greatly.  I mean, I didn't go out and play with her like you would a puppy, so I can't really say she was a "pet"...but, Lord knows at the times I milked that goat and told her all of my woes.  She was an most good natured goat and a kick butt milker.
We ended up having to buy milk replacer for the baby that made it.  I managed to milk Annie before she died and got enough colostrum to give the baby a good start on life.  Another bottle fed baby.  sigh.  But, that's ok.  We named her Snowflake because of the markings on her back....looks like a falling snowflake pattern.  Hopefully, she'll grow up to have the disposition of her momma...and milk just as well.


Thursday, March 1, 2012

testing one...two....three.....

Does this thing still work?? Things have been a bit crazy around here for the last little bit...  okay, more crazy than normal.  I am planning to post all about it as soon as I run out of other things to do. (As if...)  There's a sorrowful story concerning my milk goat, a new farm baby, and an allergy/asthma situation that got a little out of control... as well as, a few other things concerning homeschooling.  I'll be right with you...just go grab something to munch on and get comfy...  :)

Tuesday, January 31, 2012

A Butterfly Closure Will Hold It, Right?

So, last Thursday, I was outside doing my farm girl routine...you know, the one with the twist, turn, sway to the right, sway to the left...oh..wait.  Wrong routine. The other one....toting water buckets and feeding animals.  Right. 
I was feeding and watering.  And right before I carried the full water buckets, I thought to myself that the chickens in the mobile pen sure could use a nice new spot of land to peck around on.  So, I grab a hold of one corner...and Yank!  And then I grab a a hold of the other corner...and ... SLICE!
OH.MY.GAH.  My hand slipped and my thumb slid down the length of the edge of the tin and it sliced through my finger.  I took one look and thought, dang....this might need a bandaid....or two.  I run in the house and yell for one of the kids to get me a washcloth...and then I venture a look.  EW.  It was gaping open...and relatively deep. DANG IT.  I get my daughter to call the closest person...my mother-in-law and she comes down to have a look see.  She says ...that might need stitches.  And I was kinda thinking maybe, BUT I had class that night.  (because I'm going back to school full time to finish my degree...still homeschooling, though)  And I didn't want to miss class because I needed to miss a night in March... so, I was thinking, What the heck... we can put a butterfly closure thing on it and it'll hold it together probably.  Yeah.
I called my personal nurse (love my nurse friends) and asked her opinion. She said I probably needed a tetanus shot.  Seriously?  I mean the tin wasn't rusty.  Apparently, that doesn't matter.  DANG again.
So, I decide to go to class and go by Urgent Care afterwards...just to see.  Only I'm walking into school and the wound pops open and now I have blood dripping off my fingers.  And for some reason, people give me weird looks for this.  And a lady asks me if I need stitches.  As if...  So, I meet up with my Professor and tell her I might need to go have my thumb looked at...which she urges with much passion...  LOL... and I go to Urgent Care.  Turns out, I needed four stitches and a tetanus shot.  The nurse looks at my finger and says, "Did you *really* think that butterfly was going to hold it?"  Well....yeah?


Projectile Vomit in a Moving, er Non-Moving Vehicle

We had a homeschool trip planned today for the Discovery Place in Charlotte to see the Mummy Exhibit.  To begin with, we had to MEET the other homeschoolers at 7:30 *am*...which totally messed up my beauty sleep, but I managed ...and was even on time.
Ahhhh...  we saw the sun creeping over the horizon...  saw the front end of that big rig right in front of me....WAIT!  dang sun was right IN my eyes....see!!!  *THAT* is why people should stay in bed until the sun is at an acceptable, SAFE sky level.  DANG.
At any rate, we are making good progress..our long caravan of homeschooling mommas... until we get to I-77.  The traffic was backed up for several miles in both lanes.  Around the time that we are sitting in said traffic, a voice pipes up from the back..."Mom...I feel really sick."  I look in the rear view and sure enough, there's a pale, sickly face grimacing back at me.  OH.FREAKIN.NO.  So, I attempt to maintain my composure in the face of this impending disaster and say, "I'll roll down a window...get a drink of your gatorade...everything will be fine." 
And then.....
Let me stop you for a second.  Have you ever seen the movie The Exorcist?  You know the green projectile vomit scene?

 

Yeah.  That one.  There ya go...see it in your mind's eye.  Now, look in the rear view mirror with me.  Yes.  You saw it, too.
To my utter horror, in the mirror, I see my son cough, hurl, spew green vomit...in a projectile fashion.  My insides rolled over and played dead.  And then to further my horror, it was as though someone hit instant replay three or four more times.  Child #2 (names have been omitted to protect identity of the spewer) who is sitting beside the hurler raises his hands to plead with me, and with an absolute look of panic on his face, says most fiercely, "MOM!  PULL OVER!!  MOM!!! GET *OFF* THE ROAD!!"  Poor thing.  But, we are in the left lane.  And the right lane is backed up.  There's no way for me to get off the road.  And no exit for at least a mile.  And then child #3 who was sitting in front of the hurler, throws herself between the two front seats, gagging incessantly, saying, "MOM!!!  HE THREW UP ON MY SHIRT!!"  (you have to know as I write this, I am laughing so hard..  it was insane...truly)  and child #3 just doesn't say it once...she's repeating it...while whimpering...crying...panicking. In the meantime...
About the time hurler projected vomit the second time, I was in great fear of losing the battle with my cappuccino that was forcing its way up my esophagus.  I rolled down my window...hung my head out like Jim Carrey....