Presumptive Diagnosis: H1N1 Influenza

I can deal with chills and fever.  Bring on the body aches and fatigue.  I'll even scratch those hives all over my body with delight.

But.  Sore. Throat. Be. Gone.  You are laying me low.  I have two responsibilities in life: caring for my children and eating.  I can't talk or swallow.  This stupid sore throat has rendered me useless.  And after three days it is getting old, too.  And the pain--oh the pain that no medicine can touch.

Okay, that's all the complaining I'm going to do.  Oh wait, one more, I'm going to be a terrible hostess to my lovely guests this week.  That makes me sad.

I can't swallow.  Hives all over my body.  Chills, body aches.  To bed.  Praying now I can make it to Seth's school production of Stone Soup in the morning.  He has the opening scene.   I hope I make it to Monday alive.  Seriously, the sorest throat ever.

The Chaos Factor

Here is the hypothesis (at least today's hypothesis):

a.  Each human being has a certain level of chaos they are wired to tolerate.
b.  It is the same for every human being.

Here is how the humans differ:

a. Some people are born clear of chaos with a clean slate ready to take on the world like champs. These people are often teachers, event coordinators, restauranteurs.  They are around you.  You know them.

b.  Some people are born with their own complete matching set of silver-plated chaos.  It's clean, but it's there and it takes up space.  These people are often artists or writers or postal workers.  They have to have somewhere to put the spill-over.  In paint, words, or thoughts on a route because they can't fit the superfluous chaos collected along the way.  It's messy.

Here's the conclusion:

a.  Both sets make good mothers.  The children of the first "take in stride" the conveyor belt of existence as it pass by or under.  They are methodical mothers always ready with gentle words and mashed potatoes.

a.  The children of the second are fighters with fathom-like love.  They are maniacal mothers who provide a place for great healing and rich, varied experience.

I'm not sure which one I am but I have weighty suspicions.  One is not better than the other, both are powerful and necessary.  One is a ferris wheel and one a rollercoaster.

*pictures taken by Dr. Gooch during a revisit of the trail.  Except the funny dog sign picture--that was by me.

Misfits

At Gugelhupf Bakery in Durham during Rain Storm '09

Sometimes we take all four of the rascals places, like in public, and then we're like, what were we thinking, and we hurriedly herd them back into the car and one of us runs in to get the needed product and then we go home where we can hide safely out of the public eye.  It's crazy.

No Motorhome

At the breakfast table, I was figuring out how old Seth would be when Avery started Kindergarten.  He'll be 10.  He'll be in fifth grade.  All four of our children will be in Elementary school together.  I told Seth this.  He asked, "Will we still be in this house."  I said, "Definitely."

"No, I don't want this house for that long.  I want a better house."
My rebuttal, "Seth, there is no better house.  We got the best house in all of North Carolina!"
"I want a house with wheels."
"A motorhome?"
"Yes, I want a motorhome."
Nothing against motorhomes or those who live in them, but a gal's gotta draw the line.

It isn't surprising that Seth would be more comfortable in a motorhome.  We've lived, up to now, a nomadic life.  Only stopping long enough to concieve and bear two children in each place.  And we've never lived super close to family (we're those have-to-spend-the-night relatives) so we've done a lot of traveling (driving). Our younger three have no memory of our previous residences and Seth can only recall foggy images of his early life. We're ready to settle and provide a soft bed of memories for our someday grown children to return to for a rest from their hectic future lives.

Yet, I feel like any second Dr. Gooch is going to wake up next to me or call me on his way home from work or wipe his mouth with a sigh at the dinner table and announce:

'We're going to Kalamazoo, Michigan!!'  Then, we'll all clap and look at the map to see where that is.  I'll ask about the job there and Seth will ask if there are any lighthouses.  Lucy won't care except that we'll have treats in the car on our way there.

But then, I would start to cry and think about all the bulbs we Dr. Gooch planted and the sprinkler system and the grass just starting to get a little thick and so green.  I'll think about the kids' schools so convenient down the road and the rooms we painted and most of all I'll think about our mild winters here compared to how they would be in Michigan.  Brrrr.

And then I'm relieved that Dr. Gooch never really announced anything except maybe how good the dinner was.  I don't know when that nomadic blood will leave my system, maybe never, because, as my Mom said, "You and Dr. Gooch (except she said Craig) don't let the grass grow under your feet."

Yet, here we are checking our new grass up close every day saying, "The grass is growing well."  And, I'm enjoying every minute of it.  So, Seth, no motorhome.  At least not for a long time.

This Life

blurry but beautiful

Thursday...the twelth?

It seems like it has been raining forever.  I am ready for some sunshine like the kind we had last weekend.  Our roof is leaking, lights are blowing out all over the house, faucet knobs are breaking loose, and our flower bulbs are drowning in Hurricane Ida's leftovers.  They say tomorrow (Friday the 13th) is more of the same.  We've stocked up on hot chocolate, moved the loveseat into the girls' room for a reading nook, and made a batch of cookie dough for some decorating after dinner tomorrow.  These efforts and some sunny snaps from Sunday should help us weather the storm.

A Mild Obsession

For some it's Spiderman, for some Pokemon, others like 'em with wings like Batman or Buzz Lightyear.  My six-year-old boy likes lighthouses.  He confiscates my "Our State" magazines and cuts out all the tiny pictures of lighthouses.  He peruses lighthouses around the world on the internet.  He looks for them in every store we frequent.  He paints them.  He sketches them.  He talks about them all the time.

Dr. Gooch came home from a shift at the hospital with some stickers for the kids.  He offered his son a strip of Spiderman in various web-throwing poses.  Seth took a look at them and asked, "Do you have any with lighthouses on them?"

Yesterday, I sat between my two boys on the couch reading Peter Spier's Book of Opposites (a favorite from my own childhood) and we cam to the On/Off page where there was a picture of a lighthouse in the daytime (off) and one at night (on).  Seth instantly began monologueing about his favorite sea-side structure.  I interrupted and asked,

"Why do you like lighthouses so much?"

I was expecting the usual, "I don't know" but instead he replied with a shrug and this,

"I just like things that are smooth...and tall with stripes, and that are red and white and black with a light on top!!"

  Lighthouses are WAY better than Spiderman.

Dear Dr. Gooch,

We kept the camera handy all day. Summer came back for a spell and we spent most of it outside. A few things: the neighbors called to warn you about the Voles--they might eat your bulbs.  Hazel somehow wore that pink sparkly headband all day.  Lucy brought the cricket inside.  I rearranged a few things (you're not surprised).  Avery fell down some steps, but is fine.  Lucy poked Seth in the neck with a stick, but he's fine.  Mostly, it was no work, all play--just your kind of day.  Here is what you missed while we missed you...

nearly always includes painting/drawing

a little post-meal math

the paperwhites making progress

Seth's sweet new setup

the scooter club meeting at the "gazebo"

leaves, leaves, and more leaves

peeking at napping (or not napping) Aves through the screen porch window

sunshiney diaper change

sunshiney snuggling

"mom, dad says we can climb as high as we want!"

this light through this Japanese Maple

this awesome soccer kick

this tired Mama and ONE of her leaf piles

Rascal-powered Swing Train

Snack time at the gazebo

Unsanctioned snack time at Seth's "bed" (the dregs of his Halloween stash)

AVERY

catching crickets

lounging on the screened porch

a second go on the swings

the just-built bridge into Chatam County and the quirky quartet (note: Lucy's second color-coordinated outfit this week)

a bit of tenderness mustered by S and L to help Hazel along (trail too long, legs too short) and my favorite part of the day

one boy's haircut by moi

the girls in the bath (Avery already cribbed and thumb-plugged)

the children begged me to save the sink full of dishes for you

night night

Love,

The Head Rascal and our Four

Saturday Survived

We didn't quite make it to the beach.  Only as far as Charlotte's crown jewel, IKEA.  Today's visit to our favorite Scandinavian Super Store isn't worth talking about at all exept for the moment when we shared a Lingonberry drink and Lucy and Hazel hogged the potato chips, Seth said, as serious as he has ever been,

"I want new sisters."

We finally made it home just in time to prescribe frozen yogurt for sore throats and a eucalyptus bath for shared sniffles before bed.  After the "undesirable sisters" were tucked away snug, Seth, who has been staying up later, asked,

"Why do Santa and Jesus know everything?"  He didn't let me delve too deeply into that before he was sidetracked listing off what he wants for Christmas: (I took note)

a toy lighthouse
a new scooter, like Lucy's, except it sparks
a gingerbread house kit
a toy speedboat

Then he drew a picture of the boat to show me what it looked like in his head.

We miss the Dad, but we're doing all right.  If we can just change Seth's mind about his sisters.

This one didn't end up making the flight to Louisiana with her biggest fan.  Hopefully, this means Dr. Gooch will have a true vacation (the kind you used to have before the kids came).  You know.

I Want To Go To There

photo taken by Dr. Gooch this past summer during our Outer Banks Sabbatical

We're sick.  All five of us (except Dr. Gooch, he has been spared, his immunity is ultra boosted due to the hostile environment in which he works).  Also, we are fatherless all weekend (except Miss Avery who will be traveling with her father further South).  Church is out.  So is any sort of social interaction (aka, other adults to talk to).

I'm thinking *beach escape*.  It's only a few hours away.  I'll let you know how it goes. Also, no cooking or dirtying of the kitchen of any kind (except watercoloring).  I can't smell anyway.  How can I cook when I can't smell?  Watercoloring on the beach?

Firsts and Lasts Happening Now

-Only one napper left (and only one nap)
-My oldest just figured out the Moon isn't really talking to the Bear in Happy Birthday Moon.
-My first girl dressed herself in a coordinated outfit.  Purple skirt, purple shirt, purple socks.  It's a start.
-We only have one remaining "free flyer" and she's taking advantage of that with her Dad this weekend.
-A spelling bee.
-Property taxes
-Tulips, Fritilleria, Hyacinths, Crocus, Muscari, Narcissus, and Peony bulbs in the garden ready for Spring.

The Garden Just Before Noon

This is our second North Carolina Autumn.

I'm floored
at the Fauna
we find
so late in Fall.

 Plus, I'm eating young beets and their greens for lunch while I dream of snacking on snap peas in another week or so.  Then there are the carrots and the lettuces.  I love you soil and sunshine.  You are magical.  Look at those flowers in November!