Saturday, December 1, 2007

A Lit Lovin' Mom's Dream

"So young men build the future, wisely open-handed in peace, protected in war; so warriors earn their fame and wealth is shaped with a sword."
Beowulf, lines 22-25

I woke to the shrill sound of my alarm Wednesday, firm in my conviction that this was a day I belonged in bed. I scrunched my eyes shut tightly and tried to figure out a way to make that happen. Surely Lewis could wake the kids, feed, scripture and dress them; burden them with homework, instruments, backpacks and lunches. Get visual confirmation of clean and present socks and underwear, make sure the clothes they are wearing are not the ones they were wearing the day before....Sure... he could do all this before he left for work at....wait.....6:30? No go. There was no escaping it.
Sometimes, as a Mom, I feel like the earth would fall from its orbit if I don't get out of bed. Alas, the earth and all its inhabitants were safe for another day. I very reluctantly swung my feet onto my freezing wood floor, and went about my business. I found, to my delight, that everything went in my favor. I was too late getting up to make my husband a lunch, but there was still a forgotten lunch from yesterday in the fridge! SSHHHH! Don't tell him it was recycled!
As the kids ate their nutritious Rice Crispies, on impulse, I picked up my World Lit text from college. My oldest had been discussing Beowulf with me the night before. Yes, he read it when he was 10. He told me how much he had loved it. He was long gone to zero hour, but I opened Beowulf somewhere in the middle, and unbidden, started to read.
My boys didn't react at first, they're used to me doing unexpected things. After a moment or two, their ears pricked up in interest. Before long, their cereal bowls were snap, crackle and popping, abandoned at the table. My boys were crowded around me, eyes wide in wonder. I read about a shining hall, filled with warriors, a fearsome beast that kept terrorizing them; a brave Geat, who was stronger than any other living man: Beowulf.
The baby woke up sometime during our read, and was fretful, jostling around on my lap. Whenever his head blocked my view and I was interrupted, they howled in protest. "Send him to his room!" they cried. We spent about half an hour in a land of treasure, heroic deeds, and,... ahem, lakes boiling with the spilt blood of monsters. It was heaven. When it was time for the bus, they heaved a great sigh of contentment, and went out into the world. Yes indeed, it was a lit lovin' Mom's dream.

Tuesday, November 27, 2007

I am such a dork!

Last Monday, I had a sun spot on my face checked out. In the last few months, it had started to change, so I thought it was a good idea. They cut a small piece of it out to test, and gave me a stitch and a huge band aid to cover it up. It was no big deal, except for having a band aid on the side of my nose! I'm past the age when bandages of any sort are cool, let alone one a mere distracting inch from my eye. It's been 8 days, and the nurse said I could have the stitch out in 7-10 days. The problem is, I keep accidentally scratching or rubbing it. I begged my sweet husband to take it out last night, and he said to wait another day or so. That was a very good idea. I should have listened.
I have an unfortunate and embarrassing history of taking my health care into my own hands. Ask me sometime how I botched my Foley catheter induction.
Did you know it's not as easy as it sounds to take a stitch out of one's face? You have to use tweezers to pull the tail of it away from your skin. That's nauseating. Then you need to find scissors small enough to cut the thread without cutting you. That's even harder in my house. All our medical scissors have been hijacked by our boys to cut wood, foil, cables, that sort of thing. I ended up using fingernail clippers. I got a bit woozy pulling it away and clip, clip, clipping at my face. I ended up clipping a little bit of skin, but I made it through the stitch. Then was the ickiest part- pulling it out. Watching the snipped tail disappear under my skin, and emerge out the other side was, well, unforgettable. The area still looked pink and tender, but I was quite proud of my accomplishment. I went on with my day, and while I was doing the dishes, absentmindedly swiped at an itch on my face with my shoulder. Ouch! I was sure I'd pulled it back open. I dragged my feet on the way to the mirror. Whew! Still closed, but I decided I'd been a bit hasty with the whole stitch removal thing. Back on went the hated band aid. But the question is, how long do you think I can go without my husband noticing?