Endings

Just as September brings beginnings, May and June bring endings. We went to Nikki's final drama showcase yesterday, Caleb's final open house today, will soon be attending his final Little League game, and of course the school year is screaming toward a close.

Tonight also marks the first night that we are a family of four since March 2009, when Devon came to stay with us. Right after he moved out, Emma moved in. But tonight Emma is on her way to go camping with her family and will be back Tuesday to take her belongings. And so another chapter in our lives closes.

I would have loved for Emma's departure from our home to be triumphant. I am a fan of fairytale endings. But everything in her life is rather undecided right now, some things because of choices she's made and some things that are beyond her control. But God has made it clear to all of us that this living situation is no longer working, and we need to honor that.

Neither of us would change our decision to include Emma in our family for the past 19 months. We have learned so much and grown as a family through this experience, and we will always love her. Hopefully, she will take something good away from her months with us. But it is time. Time for her to figure out what path she wants to take. Time for us to refocus on each other. Time for Nikki to have her high school experience.

But tonight, the house just feels empty.

SEVEN!

Caleb is seven today! It's so hard to believe that he is already seven, but then again I have trouble remembering life without him.

I took the day off so I could make cupcakes and take them to his class. Then it occurred to me that Ronnie was off this week, so I texted her and she came, TOO! It was fun to surprise Boo. We are so, so blessed that she plays such a big role in his life. I think that it's hard for some people to understand how our relationship works so well, but I love that it does. AND I love that she and her family love Caleb so much.

Happy birthday, Boo! Thank you for bringing so much laughter and love into our lives.

Gemini

Caleb was SO EXCITED to go to school today. He's been having a great time looking forward to his field trip tomorrow, and to his birthday next week. Life is just awesome for him right now. Except for baseball. While he is REALLY GOOD at it, and has a great time while he's there, every game is preceded by a nuclear meltdown. We can't figure it out, we can just plan on it. So when Caleb woke up, we had this conversation:

Caleb: Is it raining?
Me: Yes, it is.
Caleb: YES!!!! NO BASEBALL!!!

However, when I went to pick him up from childcare, I was greeted with a yellow card from his teacher for (of all things) WRITING ON THE SIDEWALK AND WALLS WITH CHALK. He was MORTIFIED and hung his head out to the car, then proceeded to sob all the way home. I tried to calm him down. I told him that the teachers don't want chalk on the sidewalk at school, but it's still okay at home. He wasn't buying it. He came in, packed his little rolling suitcase, and told me he was running away. Except he didn't actually go anywhere; he just sat on the stairs and put his head in his arms. Even worse, while he was doing this I was checking the status of his game and found out it was NOT CANCELED.

After about ten minutes of sobbing and crying and refusing to put on uniform items, then lamenting the non-uniform socks, and that he can't tie his shoes yet, we finally walked out the door with a snack to eat in the car.

Then we got to the game, and he was HAPPY and played really well! He got two kids out at second with some great catches, got a hit every time he was up to bat, scored several runs. And he LOVED every minute of it!

I am really beginning to think there's something to signs. Caleb is a textbook Gemini.

In other news...

Caleb's pediatrician just called (yes, at 8:00 at night). When he was there for his well-child visit, one of the CNAs gave him a color-blind test. Unfortunately, she had no idea what she was doing. The pediatrician reviewed the results she remembered after all the patients left, and according to her report the results indicate that Caleb is not only green color-blind, but COMPLETELY color-blind. Which makes learning your colors by age five seem pretty darn impressive, no?

That boy just amazes me.

Snoozing

Scott is out of town for five days. He rarely does this, and I don't think he's ever left me for that long during school days. The weekend was fine. But Scott is the morning person in this family, and I had concerns about what this was going to look like. My concerns were not unwarranted.

Sunday
9:00 pm: Finally get kids to bed. Set alarm for 4:50. Cringe.
10:00 pm: Get into bed, grade stories.
11:00 pm: Turn on news, fall asleep immediately.

Monday
5:50 am: Wake up. Notice it is very light outside. Look at time on clock. Look back at window. PANIC! Realize that it is useless to panic. Wake Caleb up, get his clothes out, prepare breakfast, make lunch, shower, get dressed, gather belongings.
6:30 am: Amaze myself by being ready to go only ten minutes late.

Tonight, I will not only SET my alarm, I will also TURN IT ON.

Scott, COME HOME!!!

How to Vaccinate Your Cat (A Community Service Announcement)

1. Get cat carrier off of high garage shelf and dust it off; it's been a year since you used it.
2. Notice that the cat has seen the "Box of Death" and has opted to retreat to the inner recesses of your daughter's box springs.
   
3. Tempt said cat with tuna. Find that this is futile. Notice that you have five minutes to get to the vet.
4. Call your husband, who comes in with a long pole. He thinks this will help until he realizes that the cat is INSIDE, and not UNDER, the bed.
5. Have your husband shake the entire bed and scare the %&*# out of the cat. Wait, ready, by the bedroom door.
   
6. Grab fleeing cat.
   
7. Insert flailing cat hind-end-first into Box of Death. Ignore moans and wails while hauling the now-heavy Box to the car. You are now five minutes late for your appointment.
8. Arrive at appointment ten minutes late. Apologize for your tardiness and the banshee-like noises coming from the Box of Death.
9. Find yourself quickly deposited in the nearest available room so the banshee will stop scaring the other unsuspecting pets.
   
10. Say hi to the doctor, who now has to extract the furry banshee from the Box of Death, the same one she barely fit in at home.
11. Let the doctor take the banshee away for shots. Listen to her howling from the waiting room.
    
12. Finish the entire appointment in ten minutes so that the banshee can be removed from the premises.
    
13. Drive the banshee back home while she screams at you from the Box of Death. Apparently, cat profanity contains many vowels.
14. Arrive home, open the Box of Death, and watch the banshee disappear. Appreciate the silence.
15. Wait until your daughter arrives home to extract the cat from under YOUR bed (because hers is clearly no longer safe) and yell at you for mistreating her cat.
16. Sigh and be grateful that it's over for another year.
    

Down and Out

I know how much you love to read about my sick kids, so here you go!

Caleb has been sick for A WEEK. A WEEK!! And not runny nose or a little droopy sick, but lying inert on the bed or the couch sick. FOR A WEEK! Scott took him to the doctor on Tuesday, where he fell asleep on the examination table and also tested positive for Influenza B. So we tried to get him to eat, kept a water bottle at his side, and kept him company while he slept 16 hours a day and lay on the couch for the other 8.

Still, I was certain he would be better by yesterday, when his class took a field trip to Balboa Park for a puppet show. We had been planning the trip for weeks and I took the day off work (which turned out to be rather redundant this week). Alas, there was no puppet show for Boo. Instead, there was yet another trip to the doctor, who was quite impressed by Caleb's lack of activity. He couldn't find any indications of possible infection other than a red throat, so after the rapid strep came back negative, he sent us home to wait it out yet again.

But today, while Caleb was lying inert on the couch watching his fiftieth movie this week (because I feel like he should be staring AT something while lying there?), I got a call from the pediatrician's office saying that they cultured his strep test and it came back positive! So he DOES have strep. Which explains a lot. Finally.

Of course, we had to go through several options before we came up with an antibiotic that hasn't given him hives yet, but now he has azythromycin and, I am praying, will be on the mend. In the meantime he is yet again running a fever of 102 and sobbing while his daddy gives him a bath. "I just want to go to bed!"

Even so, I am feeling pretty blessed that we are dealing with this in our intact home in our intact city in our intact country. We are saying prayers for Japan, punctuated by prayers for healing for Caleb. Nothing like a little dose of perspective to keep me honest.