kids

Holy Stowaway, Batdude!

Posted on August 4, 2008 by Debora

Friday night we were watching “Hook” on dvd from Netflix and consuming enormous quantities of popcorn, when suddenly there was an exclamation from Steve’s end of the couch (he’s been coming over for family movie night the past couple of weeks). “Whoa — a bat just flew in!”

I paused the movie. “I didn’t see anything.”

“Neither did I,” said Elizabeth. Luke said he hadn’t either.

“It flew in the window,” Steve insisted. “I think it flew down the hall!”

So we briefly searched the back of the house for a bat, found nothing, and finally decided that Steve had seen a moth or something.

This morning Elizabeth was taking her bath and noticed something clinging to the wall mouldiing above the tub.

Poor little guy must have been starving after two days and three nights in the house.

After some discussion we decided to wait until dusk to release him outside, so he wouldn’t be disoriented and helpless in the bright light of day. When Steve came over to see the kids this afternoon he got elected, by virtue of being the only one tall enough to reach, to capture little Batdude in a towel.

I love bats, I truly do. Bats Are Our Friends. But little Batdude was seriously pissed off by the whole experience, and he was making some remarkably unattractive faces at us involving lots and lots of teeth, and he didn’t seem terribly receptive to our apologies, so we just took him out on the porch and let him go without further ado.

He exploded out of the towel and into the twilight sky with reassuring vigor — at least he wasn’t too weak from his ordeal to hunt.

I bet he won’t be flying into any more windows anytime soon, though. At least he’ll have a story to tell his grandkids. “So there I was…clinging to a barren wall in enemy territory for days on end….”

Categories: Animals, Family, kids, Life, Wildlife | Leave a comment

Second Verse, Same As The First

Posted on July 18, 2008 by Debora

Now that Steve and I are separated (again), he has donned his Devoted Dad hat (again), and begun making time every day to spend with Luke and Elizabeth. From my perspective this is of the good; I firmly believe that kids benefit from having a healthy relationship with both parents no matter what the state of the parental union may be. Luke, especially, has become a lot more confident and outgoing and less…well…neurotic, in the past four and a half months since his father has decided to give him some actual focused attention.

Being the astute child that she is, Elizabeth has picked up on the rather fickle nature of Dad’s devotion (as in, it comes and goes in inverse relationship to how secure he feels in the marriage), and she’s been visibly cooling toward him. I can’t blame her, but it makes me sad anyway.

And speaking of our Tough Cookie, she took a big tumble yesterday.

Some backstory: ever since she was four or five, Elizabeth has liked to walk out to the horse pasture and shimmy up a front leg and onto the back of a horse or pony, letting it carry her wherever the herd took them. At first I was VERY concerned about this pastime, and considered putting a stop to it, but she always chose the nice quiet mounts and nothing bad came of it, so I relaxed a little and let her have her fun.

A couple years ago she came in complaining that Balki (an Icelandic pony we used to have) had tossed her off and hurt her arm. This was the same pony that gave her an actual concussion the first time she rode him, so we just told her to stick to the safer horses for her pasture jaunts from now on, and let the fun continue. (A week of “My arm feels better today, Mom”s later, I took her down to have it looked at and learned that she had been WALKING AROUND WITH A BROKEN ARM FOR A WEEK. Hence the “Tough Cookie” nickname.)

The other day I caught her trying to slip onto Mahogany’s back from a top fence rail. I nipped that plan right in the bud. No ridee Mahogany! But when I saw her hacking around on Marshall, I thought it over and decided not to fuss. Marshall’s young and green, but he’s also calm and friendly.

Okay, so yesterday I glanced out the window just at the right moment to see Marshall BOLT out of the corral into the pasture, and Elizabeth hit the dirt in his wake. I shot out the door and into the corral, calling her name. She was all, “I’m okay, I’m okay, I’m okay,” but she wouldn’t or couldn’t answer my questions about where it hurt and what body part she’d landed on. Her knees were all scraped up, and she seemed very disoriented. I brought her in and settled her on the couch and shone a flashlight in each of her eyes, and her pupils responded normally. I suggested a warm bath (she was filthy from the corral ground and her scrapes were very dirty, and I figured she would feel better after a nice soak). She got in the tub, but then started wailing that her head hurt. I checked and found a respectable goose-egg on the back of her head, so I gave her some Children’s Tylenol and went to find her some clean jammies.

When I got back she was kind of zoning and sleepy. I helped her out of the tub, and she got dressed in slow motion; she just wanted to go take a nap. I knew there was a good chance she had another concussion (for those of you keeping score, that’s one broken arm and two concussions so far. CPS should be knocking on my door any day now), but I also knew that if I took her to the emergency room they would: 1. keep her waiting for hours before anyone attended to her, 2. most likely eventually diagnose a concussion, and 3. tell me to take her home, keep her quiet and give her plenty of rest. So I let her go take her nap, opting to spare her the stress of a trip to the ER. She slept and SLEPT and slept. I went in every half hour or so and nudged her until I got some sort of response, because there is a risk of a concussed person slipping into a coma if they’re allowed to sleep too deeply.

She seemed to feel better when she finally woke up around 5pm, and she had some supper. And then threw it up. And then threw again at bedtime. Steve and I talked back and forth on the phone for a while about whether taking her to the ER to check for complications would be worth all the additional trauma it would put her through. (The ER is in Murrietta, btw, almost 50 miles away down winding mountain roads.) Finally it was decided that I would sleep with her, and if there were any signs at all that things were getting worse instead of better, down we’d go.

She woke up early, around 4:45am, and seemed to feel a lot better, so we all heaved a sigh of relief. But around 9 or 9:30, she kind of crashed again. I called her pediatrician, and miraculously they were having a slow day and said they could see her in the office at 11:15.

The doc gave her a careful examination, including a rather alarming bit of hands-on skull twisting to check for fractures, but Elizabeth was unruffled by that. He confirmed that she had a concussion, but said that there didn’t seem to be any life-threatening complications, and that I should take her home and keep her quiet and give her plenty of rest. No running or bouncing or anything that might possibly cause her brain to slosh around in her skull for at least a week or two, and no riding horses, climbing trees, or anything that might cause another head injury for at least a month. So, the Tough Cookie’s on the sidelines for the rest of summer vacation. Poor kid. She threw up again the instant we got home, then went and took a long nap in the hammock.

She’s a little cranky.

So I guess our Summer Of Adventure will have to be limited to non-physically-strenuous activities from here on out. No swimming, bowling, roller skating, bike riding….Looks like we’ll be seeing a lot of movies.

Where’s that catalogue where I saw that child-size bubble-wrap clothing? I know it’s around here somewhere….

Categories: Family, Horses, kids, Life, Love, Marriage | 3 Comments

Summertime And The Livin’s Easy

Posted on July 16, 2008 by Debora

This is my favorite time of year, foodwise. Preparing healthy meals is never easier than it is in midsummer when the garden and orchard are in full swing and everyone’s in the mood for light fare.

For breakfast this morning we polished off the last of the apricot crop, with the grain product of our choice on the side. I had granola, Elizabeth and Luke had cinnamon-raisin bagels. The plums are just beginning to turn color; I give them another two to four weeks before that feeding frenzy begins. Luckily we have one apple tree that ripens very early in the year, and while it’s still a month or so away from actual ripeness, its fruit has reached that tart/sweet green stage that’s not bad to munch on at all. So that’ll carry us from apricot season to plum season without total fruit deprivation.

Then there’s the berries. I have managed to produce actual blueberries this year, for the first time ever! Apparently the secret is to water them almost every day. Troublesome, but totally worth it when you pop one of those tangy little balls of goodness into your mouth. We also enjoyed homegrown raspberries and strawberries this year — yum!

Around noon I commented to the empty kitchen that a nice frosty milkshake sounded pretty good for lunch. Like magic, Elizabeth materialized out of thin air and began assembling ingredients. She has just recently mastered the art of making milkshakes, and fixes them for us almost every day.

Our recipe–

Add to blender:

About 1 cup frozen berries (strawberries, raspberries, blueberries, or whatever you like. We use storebought organic, since our own production from the new plantings is still pretty small).

Two ripe bananas

16 oz vanilla yogurt

About 1/2 cup milk

Blend well. Pour into glasses that have been stored in the freezer. Makes three or four shakes, depending on the size of your glasses.

For supper I went down to the garden and filled a basket with everything that looked good: an onion, a bulb of garlic, a zucchini, two tomatoes, some swiss chard, some kale, some carrots. I cooked a pound of ground beef with salt, pepper, the onion and the garlic. When it was browned I added the rest of the veggies, all chopped into bite-size pieces. Simple but very tasty. This is the sort of meal that absolutely requires the use of fresh, just-picked veggies, or it won’t taste right.

Between the heat (and marital stress) dulling my appetite, and all the fresh produce I have been eating, my winter weight has been melting away pretty dramatically. This morning I weighed in at 118 lbs! I have not weighed 118 lbs since before my first pregnancy! I love my garden. 🙂 (The marital stress, not so much.)

I was supposed to plant cherry trees and blackberries this fall, but I think that’s going to be out of my budget this year. Especially since Julie has invited me to a five-day horse-camping trip next month up in San Luis Obispo with a bunch of her friends, and I can’t possibly say no to five days of riding, camping and girl talk. What’s another couple hundred dollars on the credit card for a good cause, right? The cherry trees will still be at the nursery next year. Or, you know, probably different cherry trees, but whatever.

Then there’s the grapes. We have eight grapevines, each a different variety that ripens at a slightly different time. So from late July/August to October it’s a nonstop grapefest. Mmmmm, grapes.

Someday when we sell this place I’m going to need half a dozen U-haul trucks just to transfer my orchard to my next home, because leaving it behind doesn’t even bear thinking about.

What? Thirty-year-old apple trees don’t transplant well? La la la la, I can’t heeeear you…..

Categories: Family, food, Gardening, kids, Life | 4 Comments

Done

Posted on July 14, 2008 by Debora

So, last Saturday Steve and I reluctantly gave up and called it quits. He finally just said, “I don’t think I’m really cut out to be a married man.” The simple clarity of that statement pretty much summed it all up. In between the moments of passion and frivolous fun, being married to Steve has always made me feel so freaking lonely. He has a whole life going on that has nothing to do with me, and he prefers it that way. He is, by nature, a solo act that likes life in the social spotlight.

Like last time, the decision to separate has left me feeling relieved and liberated. Don’t get me wrong, I wish it could have worked out, but I don’t think it ever would have. No doubt the anger, grief, etc, will eventually make their rounds again, but for now I’m just breathing the free air.

Steve has always been such a weakening influence on the fabric of this family. Take Friday family movie nights, for example. This is a custom that the kids and I started during the first separation. On Friday nights we pop a giant bowl of popcorn, put on something from Netflix that the kids want to see, and snuggle up on the couch in a big pile together. Bonding time. Fun.

During the reconciliation, when Steve started joining us for movie night, it all changed. He didn’t care for the kiddie movies, so every week he basically turned it into a big inappropriate makeout session on one end of the couch, with the kids on the other end of the couch or in the big chair. The instant the ending credits rolled he’d pull me off to the bedroom for some “grownup time.” Fun? Sure. Family bonding time? Not so much.

In fact, he paid more attention to his kids during the first separation than he ever did before or after. When we’re together he has a way of making them feel alienated without even trying to. So, one more reason for me to not regret parting ways.

Shortly before we called it quits I happened to be with Steve when he received a friendly text message from his ex-girlfriend. Funny — he’d told me she’d moved out of state. He said he had no idea why she’d still be texting him.

I hate the way moments like that make me feel, and I hate how MANY moments like that — and much worse — there have been during the fourteen years I’ve known him. I just really want to never feel that way ever again.

So — I wish him the best of luck, but I need to walk my own path from here on out. Today me and the kids went to see “Journey To The Center Of The Earth” in 3D, and it was a hoot and we didn’t have to deal with Steve shushing the kids every time they laughed or shrieked as loud as every other freaking person in the theater was doing. And then we came home and it was too late to get anything done and too early to go to bed, so we popped a giant bowl of popcorn and put on a Donald Duck collection that had come in from Netflix, and we snuggled in a pile on the couch and made up for a lot of recent family movie nights that hadn’t felt like family time at all. And tomorrow night we’re going to take some sleeping bags and camp out in the horse pasture and roast hot dogs and marshmallows and sing goofy songs about great green globs of greasy grimy gopher guts, and tell spooky stories and basically just celebrate the fact that the three of us are a solid team again and not a lonely, dysfunctional foursome.

Things don’t always turn out the way you want them to.

But I have to believe that sooner or later things turn out the way they’re meant to.

I have faith in that.

Categories: Family, kids, Life, Love, Marriage | 5 Comments

Still Here

Posted on July 8, 2008 by Debora

Poor neglected blog, all lost and cold and scared and hungry. I totally should be giving it more attention.

So…let’s catch up. We have a splendid apricot crop this year; we all (except Steve, who doesn’t like apricots–the commie!) have been gorging ourselves on those. I really need to get some into the freezer before they’re all gone.

There’s an annual tradition round these parts called “Anza Days,” which always falls on the weekend before (or of) July 4th, and in years past it used to be this enormous three-day celebration that everyone looked forward to with great anticipation. It’s gotten smaller and shabbier every year, and nowadays it’s usually just a small parade down the main highway and some vendors’ booths set up in the park for half a day. Normally the casino puts on a nice fireworks display the same night, but this year there was some disagreement about which weekend it should fall on, so the parade ended up being on June 28 and the fireworks were on July 5th. Turns out there was a dance at the Community Hall on Friday the 27th, but we didn’t even know about that until the next day. We were sorry to have missed it, because the Anza Days festivities are actually where Steve and I first met back in ’94, and all the dancing we did that night is a sweet romantic memory. Ah, the innocent days of youth.

We had fun though, because with no fireworks at the casino for Anza Days we ended up at Julie and Josh’s place for dinner and a long dip in their fantabulous jacuzzi. Julie and Josh are the coolest people ever — we have so much fun whenever we hang out with them.

Monday the 30th Steve and I had our second counseling session. It had become mildly troublesome to arrange babysitting for these appointments, plus we didn’t like the way it was cutting into our “family days,” so I did some research and found a place in Temecula that offers drop-in childcare services. The kids stayed there while we saw the counselor, and they LOVED it. The place offers toys and games and arts and crafts and snacks and all manner of fun stuff for an amazingly low fee. So next time I want to catch a grownup movie I won’t have to fret about what to do with the younguns! Score!

Anyway, by the end of this second session we were having serious doubts as to whether the counselor really had anything useful to offer us. He didn’t have any helpful insights into our problems that Steve and I hadn’t already talked to death on our own. He accurately identified our issues — but we already KNOW what our issues are. The suggestions he made were things we were already trying, or had tried in the past. Still, we optimistically made a third appointment, because we are Committed To Making This Work, dammit.

After the session we picked up the kids and headed over to the mall to see WALL-E, and I liked that an awful lot. Absolutely stunning imagery; Pixar never lets you down in the animation department. Although…I guess I might as well admit that I was expecting a bit more from the story itself. It was a very simple tale, without all the clever complexity of the previous Pixar offerings. Still totally worth seeing on the big screen, and I’ll be buying the dvd when it comes out.

Stormy came down with some sort of respiratory bug that had me worried enough to call the vet out, and he prescribed a round of antibiotics for her. She seems to be feeling better now, thank goodness; I get all woozy at the thought of anything happening to my old girl.

Saturday the 5th there was a cowboy thing going on at the local gymkhana arena, with cattle events like team penning and sorting and stuff. Steve and I didn’t enter anything (this year all our horses are either too old or too green), but we stopped by to check it out and socialize a bit. After sizing up the competition, we decided that Marshall and possibly even Mahogany probably wouldn’t disgrace themselves at next year’s event if we worked with them some between now and then. We didn’t see any really seasoned cowhorses there; maybe the money wasn’t big enough for the pros to bother with.

That afternoon we went to a small barbecue at the home of one of Steve’s friends. That was REALLY nice. Not a lot of people, just a small group of very friendly folks and plenty of good food. And from the front yard there was a perfect view of the fireworks, even better than we’d have gotten at the casino! We all agreed that we’d have to make that an annual tradition.

Sunday morning we dragged our sleep-deprived bodies out of bed and loaded up the horses and went to help out at the Wellmans’ roundup.

That is the nicest family. I love every single one of the Wellmans. :^)

Elizabeth wants to buy a toy that I don’t particularly want to spend money on in the middle of what has shaped up to be a spectacularly costly month for me. We debated the issue, and then compromised. I outlined a section of my garden and told her that I would pay her $5 to weed it. That wouldn’t buy the toy, but if she did a good job I would give her more $5 sections to weed. She did such an incredibly perfect job that she has duly secured the position and income of Official Garden Weeder. Money well spent and well earned!

Monday the 7th was our third counseling session. We dropped the kids off at the childcare place, put in one more hour with Doctor Obvious, and came away in perfect harmonious agreement that this guy has absolutely nothing helpful to tell us. No fourth session was scheduled.

I mostly try to leave the personal drama out of these updates, but there’s rather a lot of it going on. The highs are very high, and the lows are very low. We both WANT the marriage to work, and I can honestly say that what we have now is worlds — universes — better than what we had the first time around, but at the heart of things is still the fact that Steve and I have wildly different approaches to life itself. That doesn’t necessarily have to be a bad thing, but from time to time it just is.

But when things are good between us they are so very very good. Good enough to make us temporarily forget all about the other moments when we hit that solid wall of conflicting sensibilities and stand there all stunned and shaken and convinced that this can’t possibly work out at all.

He hasn’t moved back in, and frankly neither of us are in a big hurry for that to happen. The scary moments are slightly less scary when you don’t feel like you’ve actually committed yourself to anything permanent yet. We’re still taking this one baby step at a time and leaving all the emergency exits open and handy just in case.

The kids are just wishing we’d make up our minds already, one way or the other.

Can’t say I blame them; I’m wishing the same thing myself. There must be SOME way of skipping to the last page and finding out how all this turns out in the end….

Categories: Family, kids, Life | 1 Comment