I have to keep repeating to myself that there are now less than two weeks left of school. Poor Rachel got her math test back today. She didn't do well, but she didn't do horribly. The worst part was that I knew that she knew how to do the work. So after dinner I had her fix the problems that she had gotten wrong without any help from me. She breezed through them and was able to fix everyone.
I asked Rachel why she was able to get these correct at home and not at school. She told me that it was hard to think at school. I asked if she had taken her time like we had talked about. She assured me that she had and, in fact, she was the last one to turn in her test. So what was the problem.
"It's hard to think in the classroom because all the other kids are talking and laughing," she told me.
I asked, "You mean after the other kids are done they don't have to keep quiet?"
"No," she said. "They all start talking to each other and laughing and I just can't think."
Well another mystery solved. While Rachel probably won't grow up to be a mathematician, with a little peace and quiet, she will probably do quite well.
Just gotta make it to June 10th.
Last night after cleaning up the kitchen, cleaning the baby medicine out of the bottom of the library book bag where Jack had thrown it, washing yet another load of wash, exhausting myself watching Jon & Kate Plus 8 and waiting up for Marty, I decided that it was time to go to bed. As I ascended the stairs I was thinking how I was about to finish off my last chore for the day, check on my sleeping children before turning in myself.
Just then something black flew past my head. I screamed and nearly pushed Marty out of the way scrambling down the stairs. Then I saw it go back and forth down the hall past the stairwell. It was a bat!
After watching it for a few more seconds I realized that my sleeping children were being held hostage by this winged rat that was areally pacing past their bedroom doors like a sentinel. I could see that the boys' doors were closed, but Rachel had gotten up earlier that night and she is famous for not closing her door when she puts herself back to bed. I couldn't let this thing in to my baby girl's room.
Marty consulted Google with what to do and shouted out helpful advice like "Bat bites are the number one way in which human contract rabies in Virginia." Super! I grabbed a broom and prepared to do battle with this beast that was separating me from my kiddos.
My heart was in my throat as I climbed the stairs and the whole time I kept thinking, "If this bat dive bombs me I am going to fall down these stairs and run myself through with this broom." But I couldn't go up defenseless.
I got to the top and I could see that Rachel's door was closed. I also noticed that the bat was no longer doing laps in the hallway. I hightailed it back down the stairs and reported what I had seen. He gave me more useful advice like, "The internet says we could try to throw a blanket on it." "Or, we could trap it in our room since I think it flew in there," I replied.
So like a little brave soldier armed with my broom, I climbed the stairs again. I knew that to get to our door I would actually have to go in to the hall and not just peer down it. As I got to the top, I sprang for the door and slammed it shut. Then I closed the kids' bathroom door. By this point, Marty had called the county police's non-emergency number and they told us they would be sending someone out.
Well, I was not going to leave my sweet babies to Dracula upstairs. I ran in to the baby's room and scooped him up and took him to the basement. Then I got the boys and Rachel. I knew that telling them that there was a bat in the house would just totally freak them out. These are the children who tried to boycott the outdoors last summer because of all the bugs. So I told them that Daddy and I had come up with a great plan for Midnight Movie Madness in the basement. I got them all settled watching Enchanted just as the police officer arrived.
Unfortunately, the officer said short of shooting the bat, there wasn't much that he could do. I would certainly be tough to keep the kids in the dark with a gun fight going off in the master bedroom. We said that we would wait for animal control to come in the morning.
So I told the kids that we would be camping out in the basement. I set up the Pack N Play for teddy and hauled down the futon for the kids. We tried to settle down for a long spring nap, but Jack and Teddy would have no part of it. By this time it was 2AM. However, Jack had had a 6 hour nap at this point and was rip roaring ready to go. Teddy was also having no part of sleeping in an unfamiliar crib especially with all the noise that Jack was making. Finally, Marty took Jack to sleep in the family room and I got the baby to settle down. Finally, I hunkered down on the futon with Nicholas.
This morning a woman from Animal Control arrived with a long stick that had a grabber on the end and an empty pickle jar. After the night that I had, I was willing to put my faith in an empty pickle jar. She searched our room from top to bottom and determined that she was almost sure that the bat that escaped out through the window. It was clear however that he had been trapped in there for a while because there was bat poop everywhere.
So now I am sterilizing everything in the house and every little shadow is making me jump. I won't feel safe until tonight when there is no dark shadow flying around. Until then, I am just sure that it is sleeping somewhere wait to pounce.
All weekend I have been watching stories of soldiers who put their lives on the line for our freedom. Many mothers who have lost their sons or daughters have been interviewed. So, needless to say, it has been a triple tissue weekend.
I look at these strong young men and women and try to imagine them as small children, roughly the ages of my own kids. They were someone's baby. They cuddled familiar arms that held them tight. They went on family vacations. They drove their moms nuts. They were someone's child.
I've been driving my kids to distraction because every time they get within arms reach I grab them and hug them up. I can not imagine sending them in to harm's way and yet so many mothers have done just that. They have sent their babies to protect our freedom.
So this weekend, I will remember and pay tribute to the soldiers, but I will also remember their families and all that they have sacrificed for this nation.
Things around here have been loud lately. I know, you are all surprised. I guess I should say that things have been particularly loud lately. Teddy is cutting some back teeth and he is not at all happy about it. He'll be sitting happily playing when all of a sudden he will just start screaming uncontrollably. It is like we are back to his first six months when he would just cry and cry and then for an encore he would cry some more.
Yesterday, I picked up some pain meds for the poor suffering babe, but when asked by Rachel what we were buying, I inadvertently said, "Drugs for Teddy." Nancy Reagan would have been proud of her response. "No. Mommy we shouldn't do drugs. Do you want Teddy to die?" she asked. So I had to explain that there are drugs and there are DRUGS. Finally, I just said, "I'm getting him some medicine." "Ok," she said. "As long as you don't give him drugs."
Also yesterday, I came downstairs to find that for snack Jack had poured himself a plate full of syrup and was lapping up like a dog.
Finally, Jack has taken to calling Mickey Mouse "Girl Hat." Somehow Rachel's two sets of mouse ears from Disney World ended up migrating to the top of the toy box. Well, Jack is no dummy. Clearly the pink means they are for a girl and they have ears like The Mouse, so Mickey Mouse must be a "Girl Hat." We have trouble not giggling when we correct him.
