Croup

I was wondering, this morning, if I would even remember, ten or twenty years from now, that right before moving into our new house we had croup.

I do remember that I was sick for Christmas both last year and the year before. I remember that N had whooping cough while we were practicing for "Charlie and the Chocolate Factory."

That whole thing, quite frankly, was a nightmare. He would stand over the sink and cough and you would think that you heard the water running but in effect, it was blood gushing from his mouth. Once we had a diagnosis three county health departments got involved and we had to alert every person we'd been in contact with for two weeks prior.

So three children with croup seems minor, really.

J, in kinder garden, has missed a week of school. His fever was terribly high and he wheezed and gagged and barked for several days. We went to the doctor for steroid and saline inhalation treatments.

I was unable to miss more than two days of work to care for him. The two older brothers, generously, each took a day off of school to stay with J (and play video games).

W, in second grade, is still home. And it's Halloween. Will I break my "you can't go out if you don't go to school" rule?

We are supposed to go to a dinner party. The doctor says that croup is EVERYWHERE and, as long as there is no fever, we are free to mingle with the public.

Lots of hand washing this Halloween.

Hopes & Dreams

I'm taking a graduate level leadership course that focuses on motivation. At the same time, I've been waiting for a closing date for the purchase of our new farm and our "dream house." This has me thinking a lot about hopes and dreams.

This week the seller worked with us to tie public water in from the road to the house. He "gathered the troops," if you will, and mobilized town officials, a plumber, an excavator and a independent testing lab together in order to get the job done quickly. With much emotion he declares, "I just want to get this over with!"

I wish for the type on my work computer to be larger. I long for more time to read for pleasure.

As I drive by the Mexicans working in the fields to harvest squash and cabbage, I imagine what their wish lists look like. Enough money to travel back home to see family? A system that allows them to work here legally that is uncomplicated and free of corruption?

So much of the world lives in poverty. I'm so very grateful that safe, clean water CAN bee hooked up to my new house (even if it takes a few extra days!).

My Cottage Takeaways

Both of our older boys have commented, separately, that "this is a really great week...we are headed to football sectionals, the cottage closed, the furnace was repaired...." Their optimism strikes me as I struggle to stay positive about the cottage sale.

I have a few "takeaways" following yesterday's closing.

1. I do feel a deep sadness, yet I had a choice about selling the cottage. I can only begin to imagine the impact on a person after losing something due to bankruptcy or natural disaster.

2. I'm not supposed to be "tied to this earth" and I sometimes think I'm not. And yet I feel this strange pull to the beautiful view from our cottage windows, the sparkling water, the mosaic of lake stones...

3. God allowed me to help a customer whose husband suffered a traumatic brain injury a year ago while riding dirt bikes with his boys. He uttered his first words just this week, and then had a stroke that causes him to sleep most of the time. He has been transferred to four different hospitals, with setback after setback. He was the family's sole provider. What in the world do I have to be sad about??!!

Thank you Lord for the privilege of owning the cottage and for the happy memories we have of spending time there with our friends and family.

"Revive us again" (Allelujah by The Museum)

Motivation

I've been thinking about motivation lately, as I watch the Wall Street protests progress and I wonder HOW IN THE WORLD to motivate my boys to wash more dishes and turn their socks right side out. This week I began a new graduate level Education course and the introduction to one of the textbooks described two monkeys in an experiment. The scientist gave them a mechanical puzzle to see if they could solve it. There was no "prize" for the monkeys for solving the puzzle, yet they worked for days to figure it out and solved it over and over. This was curious to the investigator. What motivated the monkeys if there was no promise of food or play, no reward at the end of the day?

(I am, apparently, no better than a monkey because I don't give an iota about solving puzzles)(But then again...I am up at 4:45 a.m. to bake banana bread, wash dishes, fold laundry and blog).

Our cottage closing is tomorrow. I asked my brother for a ride there and he texted me back that he couldn't because he had too many errands to run. I would think that thousands of dollars would be a motivating factor in making sure that your older sis, the co-signer, arrives at the court house.

On the other hand, my friend Heidi didn't blink when I asked her to take me and stay for emotional support. Her motivation: friendship.

We have, of course, been watching the boys' football team play all season (they are headed to the sectionals...woot woot!). They are a strong, disciplined team. Up until Friday night, however, their execution seemed to lack passion.

Last season they played for Nick, their fellow team mate who was battling leukemia. After Nick passed away in June a deep sadness settled in. They continued to play in his memory.

On Friday the rival team constructed a coffin and placed it outside of the h.s. with a note...that at the game our boys would be "goin' down." At stake was a spot in the sectionals, and for my son, 24 cupcakes baked by his good friend Liv (a student at the "other" high school.

Tradition says that the winner of this yearly battle takes home "the rock," a large lake-stone-turned-trophy.

Friday night's game was suspenseful, intense, and FUN to watch, because the boys were, at last, fired up.

I'm hopeful that I can keep my own "eye on the prize" this week, the new farm we will be able to buy once the cottage closes.

Iphone 4S Launch Day

Today is Iphone Launch Day across the country. It's "all hands on deck" at the store so I've been called into work on what was my day off. I'm grateful that my manager respected my request to keep a 10:00 appointment. He doesn't need to know that it's a hair appointment:)

It's all I've got, after all, one hour of "time off." This morning I'll run to town to have J's residency form verified by the tax collector. Right after work we will all head to a home football game where we will scream and cheer until the end, pick up J, drive home and collapse.

It's an important game. The win determines their spot in sectionals and the point spread also matters in some way that I don't understand.

Perspective

We are really feeling "the squeeze" between selling the cottage and buying our new farm. My brother's lawyer moves at a snail's pace. Our lawyer has written him three letters asking him to set a closing date, the cottage buyer has called him, my husband and I have called several times...to our understanding EVERYTHING has been ready since September 13th.

The Real Estate Agent for the new farm stopped by the store last week to see what was going on. I imagine that she is also eager to close.

It's difficult to paint, cement, and fix here at the old farm while we are still "occupied." but Mr.WestBerryDad does his best. We're both, however, a little bit "on edge."

Enter the perfect Columbus Day Weekend. 80 degrees, sunny, Fall colors.

We enjoyed pumpkin carving, wine tasting, a canal-side picnic and a haunted hayride.

Popcorn, fry cakes, garlic cheese, cider.

Deeeeelicious.

Yesterday we invited one of W's 6-year-old friends over to play (Star Wars). His mom is expecting her third boy. Her first husband, Josh (B's dad), was killed in a horrific motorcycle accident three years ago. She offered me a good reminder on the phone while we were discussing our plans.

If I were to lose a loved one today, what would I look back on and wish I could change? Would we really wish we had painted more?

A la carte

I had a lovely day off yesterday. I bought mums, gourds and pumpkins and decorated the west porch. After visiting with my grandma in the nursing home I stopped in at my girlfriend Shawna's quilt shop. She is liquidating and closing the shop in order to take a job at LynnOaken Winery. She promises that I can continue to benefit from her craftiness (Phew!).

While on Main Street I stopped into Della's Chocolates to buy desserts for our homecoming party. The sponge candy immediately caught my eye. Knowing there wouldn't be time to bake and uncertain of the number of guests coming, I took one big bag each of white, dark chocolate and milk-chocolate covered orange. And they were uneven, drippy, melt-in-my-mouth pieces of confection perfection.

I'd like to think that I'm teaching my children an important lesson about the difference between processed, from-the-factory, off the shelf of the big box store and the hand dipped gourmet varieties of candies. And a lesson about supporting local businesses.

There was a special moment after the game when I saw my youngest share a piece with a new friend he'd made. $22 for three bags of sponge candy. A sweet exchange with a new pal while watching fireworks and listening to live music by the band, "Route 98," ...priceless.

Speaking of our culinary heritage we attended Octoberfest today at the boys' school. Other than watching the children squeal and giggle at the "dunk the pastor" booth, listening to the oompah band and eating kraut was THE BEST.