Why are my feet cold? And why are there wet, yellow leaves on my front steps? What? It's OCTOBER, you say?

October is a perfect time to discuss September!

September '09 launched my body,however unwillingly, into its fourth decade on this fine planet. There were a few other milestones, too, and I managed to capture some in pictures. Of course, there were many moments that unfortunately were not recorded for prosperity. Like the five whole nanoseconds that my minivan was clean, September 14 I think it was. Or the day I was actually able to blowdry my hair the exact same way as my stylist. You know, the important stuff. OH, and one tragic incident involving Wally dressed in an Americal Girl nightgown. Let's just say the culprit was apprehended and dealt with. Our poor Wally, however, may still need some intense canine therapy.


This is how my birthday started. Yes, that's a diaper. On a balloon. My team's way of showing their love.



But there were also these. . .

and later, one of these. A Senor Tequila masterpiece.


And here we are together with hubs. Look out, Charlotte--oldies on the loose!

Other random September moments. . .

The most stubborn wiggly tooth in history finally succombs to its fate---in a bouncy house outside a BBQ restaurant while staying with Grandma! Mom and Dad were busy sipping the Midori Margaritas in the above photo. The tooth fairy still visited, but alas, the tooth itself was never recovered. We've since had to convince the Nater that the tooth fairy only brings FIVE DOLLARS for the first tooth. Hey, we've got to have something left for college.


Outside Barnes and Noble--photo by Grandma.


Perusing Grandma's purchases like possums.
One evening while the boys went camping, this lovely lady was my dinner date. She's cute, but she talks a lot.

I'll try to recall July. . .as we say goodbye to August!

To say that summer whizzed by is a huge understatement. The hugest. Wait, is that a word? Anyway. It whizzed all right, and here I am, about to give a July recap when it dawns on me that it also happens to be freaking AUGUST 29th!! School has already started back (and the work-from-home dads and moms say whoop-whoop)!

July was a blissful blur that involved us joining the local pool,Nate turning six (complete with a bash at My Gym play center), making homemade ice cream, eating homemade pico de gallo and guacamole two or three times a week. Near the end of the month, my dad had a great visit with his new neurologist and then promptly went into the hospital the next morning after suffering a seizure. Turns out seizures sometimes occur in a small percentage of advanced Alzheimer's patients. Lucky him, huh? He was in the hospital for about a week and a-half, then returned to Sunrise.

After he got settled back in, we grasped the opportunity to go to the beach for a few days and reconnect. It was wonderful. We hit Brookgreen Gardens at Murrell's Inlet for the first time ever- -what a magical place. All that beautiful art existing with nature. Gorgeous. Our guide was named Millie, a lovely little pixie-haired lady with silvery hair, dangly turquoise earrings and bright red lipstick. When she was showing us the aviary, she stuck out her index finger and a luminous, blue-green dragonfly perched right on it. She smiled down at the kids. "He does that nearly every time." Olivia was enraptured, and so was I. We'd follow Millie anywhere!

The morning after the beach trip, a Sunrise nurse called to let me know my dad was having trouble breathing. Back to the ER; this time, pneumonia. Poor Dad. He hadn't had a chance to really recuperate yet, and here he was again, flat on his back in a place where every morning he was surrounded by strangers, even if he'd seen them a dozen times the day before. I had to chuckle one night when I was visiting and the Dr. dropped in. "Tracy!" my dad rasped. "Fix the man something to eat!"
"Um, are you hungry, Dr. Manet?" I asked, smiling.
"No,no, I'm quite all right," he answered.
"Well," my dad replied--"I just thought she might want to DO something instead of sittin' there."

Yeah.
I sure wish I could do something, too.

Anyway. This time he was in for a week and now he's back at Sunrise again, in a wheelchair for now, until his legs get stronger. He's getting physical, occupational and speech therapy several times a week to help him along.

This summer has also found me in the movie theater! Twice! Being married to Mr.-Wait-For-DVD, this is quite an unusual sitchiation. In July, Pam and Ro came to visit and Pam, Beth and I all went to see The Proposal. I'm usually not one for chick flicks but I have to admit this one made me laugh out loud. Then in early August my Dawn went with me to see Julie and Julia and I swear---one of the best films I've ever, ever seen. Nora Ephron might've taken some liberties with Child's actual history, but---who cares?? After watching it, I felt truly priveleged to have done so. And hungry. I mean, Beef Bourginon? Chocolate mousse? Maine lobster? Total tummy porn.

Random update time:
What's on the night stand: Earthly Delights by Kerry Greenwood. This chick is awesome---an Austrailian mystery writer, Greenwood conjured up one of the funniest, most fascinating characters ever. Corinna Chapman, a baker in Melbourne, who describes her 4 a.m. morning routine in such a way that actually makes the reader want to be awake with her, turning on the ovens, starting the coffee and mixing the raspberry white chocolate muffins.

What's for dinner: Shredded chicken tacos. Super easy for a busy Saturday. Four chicken breasts in the crockpot with a jar of salsa verde, cook on low for six hours, then shred with two forks. Taco time!

Current state of Nate: Growing, growing, growing. His legs are growing so much, they sometimes throb, something I remember going through as a kid. So, I rub them, and think of how they used to be little Michelin-man chunky baby legs.
He started first grade on Tuesday, and loves it so far. Tonight he explained compound words in between bites of taco.

Current state of Olivia: Lovely, tan, long-limbed and chatty. Loving third grade. Almost as much as we're loving her.

Our second adoption

Despite our inner little voices telling us we should wait until "things calm down" a bit around here. . .

Despite the fact that we have two hungry little punks around here already. . .

Despite all that, we were simply in need of a few more smiles around these parts.

So, we started the paperwork process about a month ago and then, suddenly, we were fast-tracked into becoming a household of five.

What can we say? The heart wants what it wants. And life, with its never-ending twists and turns, will keep happening. There's never a "perfect time" for anything, and postponing joy is typically advised against, isn't it?

Our new little Pellin isn't a newborn; at two and a-half he's already potty trained! He also adores his brother and sister and trust me, the feeling is quite mutual. He's a blonde, brown-eyed cutie. Oh, and he has the cutest little beard.

Because he's part terrier.
And dachshund, too.


And did I mention photogenic?
Meet Wally. June just beat May by a landslide.

Farewell, May. It's been real. And fun. But not real fun.

This past week has been a roller coaster and NOT the fun kind. My dad has been back at Sunrise (the assisted living center) since his release from the hospital about two weeks ago.
HowEVER. . . since coming back I've received countless phone calls to come calm him down for various reasons, and we've experienced one overnight hospital stay for observation, which left me crawling numbly into bed at 2 a.m. with a presentation to give at work just hours later.

With the advice of the Sunrise staff, we've worked out a schedule with another private aide who fills in the gaps when our wonderful J can't be there due to his other caregiving assignment. So, someone will be with him one-on-one from morning until bedtime for at least the next seven days or until he adjusts to his most recent medication change. An expensive proposition, but I have to say I've enjoyed the last couple of days with no nightly phone calls!

Things were starting to simmer down on that front when Olivia woke up Friday morning with a 103-degree fever. Hubs took her in to Dr. Will and he diagnosed her with the flu---the real deal. He gave her a nasal-swab test and it was positive immediately. Poor, sweet girl. She was so pitiful looking--her poison ivy still hasn't completely cleared up in some spots and now this. I'm guessing May 2009 won't go down as her best month ever.

She's taking an anti-viral prescription which seems to be working; she's been able to keep her fever down all day for the first time since Friday. She's currently up in her room watching Bedtime Stories on the portable DVD player, cackling away. I never thought I'd say this but thank God for Adam Sandler. Hubs got her a new Nintendo DS game today but we're saving it for tomorrow since she has to be out of school for at least a couple of days next week.

Here's hoping for a bright, shiny June!

Thank you, pushy-sweet flower lady

There's a fairly large farmer's market on the corner near the hospital. I've visited many times, pre- or post-visit. I don't always buy something, but my favorite booth is one occupied by a Korean family selling some of the most beautiful flowers I've ever seen, especially the peonies. You just don't see peonies everday, and since their blooming period is so short I feel obligated to pay homage. Which is to say, I bury my face in them whenever I walk by- - -no one seems to mind. I can't resist. They pull at me with their moth-wing fluffiness, their light, yet heady scent of summer to come.

The other day I was doing my usual sniff and smile routine when the flower lady noticed the big plastic Carolinas Medical Center cup in my hand. "You sick? I hope not, right?" she asked--half sympathetic, half cautionary. "No," I assured her. "Just visiting my dad today." With that, she plucked one of the biggest blooms from her $10 bundles and thrust it at me: "You take! For your mama, OK?"

"No, I couldn't--it's actually my dad. . .you see, my mom is um," (meanwhile the lady looks puzzled and slightly wounded, a look I remember my grandmother giving me if I refused a fourth piece of fried chicken). "OH, THANK YOU!!" I finally blurted, grasping the stem. "Your flowers are so special," I told her.
"Special like mama, right?" she said.
"Yes, exactly." I replied. And this peony sure is.

Feelin' Thrifty

Today I had to go to a totally bogus diversity training seminar. Wait, did I say that? What I meant, clearly, was that while I am grateful (SO grateful) to have my wonderful job, I didn't much appreciate having to drive across town to attend an all-day training on something that frankly, is simple common sense to most working adults these days. At least in my business, which is human services. I mean, if you're remotely Archie Bunker material then a life of civil servitude isn't exactly your can of suds, right?
Anyway.
Yesterday I was griping about how I was going to have to drive even farther than usual to visit my dad in the hospital after this seminar let out when my co-worker told me there's a cool bread bakery outlet near the training site. She said when she had to go for her training she went over there at lunch and got a lot of stuff to stock the freezer for when summer begins and her kids begin to eat the cabinets, walls and general framework of her lovely home. I sensed that Co-worker was trying to distract me from my griping,which initially peeved me because I was really on a roll, but hey--it worked! I latched onto this idea and checked it out.

Here's my haul: 2 huge bags of mini bagels, one plain and one cinnamon.
2 boxes knock-off goldfish crackers (I think they're whales)
1 loaf raisin bread
1 angel food bar cake (for all the strawberries we have lately)
2 loaves whole grain bread
1 box whole grain English muffins

My total: $11.72. Not bad for all the breakfasts, pizza bagels, desserts, snacks and endless sandwiches that will spring forth from this bounty.

Oh, and the hospital visit? Today = teensy bit better.

Abuse Of Blog As Therapy. . .

In an effort, yet again, to record an all-time low so that I can look back next year when things will be undoubtably BETTER:

My dad is in the hospital. The assisted-living staff and I decided to admit him a few days ago so they can get his meds regulated and hopefully find a sedative that works best for him. His agitation grows worse in the evenings, which is typical of folks with Alzheimer's, so his Dr. is working to find something that will help my dad, who is a quintessential "sundowner."

I pray every waking moment that I am doing the right thing for him. I never imagined that I would one day have the responsibility of making his choices, at least not before my 40th birthday. It's hard to concentrate on work, kids, and general everyday life when your mind is repeating the same, perpetual mantra: "Please, Lord. Please. . .please. . .please. . ."

I feel overwhelmed with this reponsibility. I wish he could come back to me for just an hour, or just a few minutes so we could really talk and he could tell me what would work best for him. What does one do when the one they used to turn to for advice is no longer able to give it?

And it is a huge, all-encompassing thing, this responsiblity. I have a responsibility to him, certainly, but also to his mother, my Granny, who's been gone five years now. Over a half-century ago she used to hold him in her arms and rock him and protect him. She kept him from toddling out too far in the fields, when everyone was outside working. She tried to keep him in the shade to protect his fair skin and was so proud when anyone admired his reddish-blond ringlets. Would she approve of the "care plan" that we've come up with? And what about my mother, who was often in and out of the hospital and hated it, knowing that my dad could care for her far better at home. Yes, there are many graves spinning in Beaufort County right now.

OK, enough with the dramatics. Now, goodbye forever! Just kidding.

I'm visiting Dad again tomorrow after work. Here's hoping for a significant improvement by then (here that, up there)? Hubs is taking the kiddos to Wendy's so I know they'll only miss me a little.

Other random notes:

Poison ivy rash update! Because I know you couldn't wait. I called my doc today and begged for more Prednisone because my prescription from last week ran out today and the vile creeping death will not die. It has crept over from my left side across my stomach, and the patch that started it all, the one on my left arm, looks like someone spilled battery acid on it. Yes, it's as awesome as you can imagine.

What's even worse is that my poor Livvi has it too. We even kept her home from school two days last week because the poor child looked like an escapee from the leper colony. But her doc upped her prescription when the rash persisted after a few days and it has almost completely cleared up, which is what I told MY doc when I so subly hinted for the same treatment. So, she had mercy on me and did just that. So now I'm so pumped full of 'roids that I could probably lift my mini van. And eat my house. But I DO NOT ITCH for the first time in a week which is a little bit blissful actually.

The State of Nate: Doing fine, had a great albeit wet field trip to Patterson's strawberry farm today and he brought home a sweet-smelling, ruby-red pint of 'em for us. Can't wait for breakfast. His kindergaren musical is Thursday and I'm putting together a Goodwill-supplied "sad clown" costume for him. It will probably be sad on many levels- - -wish me luck.

The State of Liv: Gobbling up everything in sight, including my leftover collard greens at dinner tonight. She's my Partner in Prednisone, and we're out to devour the world! After dinner she had so much energy I asked her to put it to use and pack her lunch for tomorrow. She did, and she also packed Nate's and mine too! I can't wait to try my Scooby Doo yogurt tube.

The State of Casa de Pellin: We've achieved a new layer of filth. The dust bunnies and the crumbs are taking over. Hubs says he'll channel the kid energy tomorrow, with a little help from a bribe trip to the dollar store. Whatever works.