Do we really need ears?

Seriously? Because I almost think William might be better off without them. His ears have given this kid nothing but trouble since day one. In the last 8 years (okay, almost 8), he has had probably 40 ear infections (I'm not kidding! His first one was at 4 DAYS old!), ruptured an eardrum about 8 times (maybe more--I stopped counting), had two surgeries for tube placement, had his tonsils & adenoids removed because they were larger than average and it was believed they were part of the culprit, and a tympanoplasty (made a new eardrum from a skin graft taken from behind his ear).

The tympanoplasty was last year in April. That's how he got to spend his spring break. And he hadn't had an ear infection since. Until yesterday. Those dreaded words..."My ears feel funny." I didn't waste any time. Off to the clinic. Yep, both ears, so red and buldging that she couldn't even tell he'd ever had even one surgery.

I swear I should buy amoxicillin by the gallon. Or own stock at the very least. So I ask again, do we really need ears?

She has a softer side...

I talk a lot about Evie's strong-will. And temper. She has a "mean face" that trumps any other I've seen before. She's a bull-head and damn sure of herself. The term "fiesty" has been used repeatedly to describe her.

I like it. I don't worry about her much. She is definitely capable of taking care of herself.

BUT, that girl has a sweet side, too. Upon cleaning her room and emptying her backpack, I often find little hand-written statements of "I love Mommy." In mass quantity. What a great feeling I get when I find those!

William had been home sick for 2 days. Yesterday, when she arrived home from school, she reached her little hand into her backpack and pulled out a folded paper with a big red heart on it and handed it to him. Inside, in the sweetest little kindergarten handwriting were the words, "I hope you feel better. From, Evie." I actually had to choke back a tear.

My heart is breaking...

... for this little boy.

Read the story for yourself here: http://www.tcpalm.com/news/2008/may/24/30gtteacher-lets-students-vote-out-classmate-5/

Kids are cruel enough on their own without the help of an adult authority figure that they look to as an example. Whether this child had ANY diagnosis or not is irrelevant.

So Blessed!

Last Friday, as I drove the kids home from school, they rambled on excitedly about the construction paper gifts and cards, and dixie cup flower pots they had made for me at school for Mother's Day. It was so sweet. But the best gifts of all came that day from William and then yesterday from Evie.

William, on that same car ride, looked at me, smiled, grabbed my hand in his, and said, "You are so rare to me."

Evie, yesterday, seemingly preoccupied with writing her birthday party invitee list in her Hannah Montana notebook, said, "Mom, can I tell you something? I love you. You are such a special person."

I melted.

"Frankly my dear..."

We all use them. Not a day goes by that I don't hear at least 2 or 3 just in my office alone. So I'm curious...which movie quotes do you use on a regular basis?

Mommy Guilt

For the most part, I think that I am a fair and reasonable parent. I get upset about the things that I SHOULD get upset about, am patient when the situation calls for it, don't expect more than they are capable of, but don't let them get away with things. I allow them to plead their case and try to make sure that the punishment fits the crime.

But every so often it hits you...the guilt. Getting angry a little too quickly. Overreacting a little too much. A bad day that shortens your fuse combined with having to repeat yourself over and over and over again. I don't think there has ever been a time in my life I've felt worse than when I think I may have been (way) too harsh. (I don't spank, so don't get the wrong idea). Yesterday was one of those days. I felt it as soon as I laid them down to sleep, and it wouldn't go away. As soon as they were in dreamland, I went to cuddle, and kiss them on the cheek, and whisper an apology and a promise that tomorrow I would be better.

It is tomorrow. It is already better.