Adam came down with a fever on Sunday that reached 102. I took him to the doctor the next day and they diagnosed infections in both ears and sent us home with a prescription for antibiotics. That night he started sounding congested and had a lot of trouble sleeping. By morning he was wheezing so I called the doctor’s office and when they heard him they told me to come in immediately. I was still in my pajamas so I threw on some clothes, ran a comb through my hair, and bundled him into the car.

The doctor took a listen and started him on oxygen, then called an ambulance for a trip to the hospital. It was a pretty bad case of the croup. They had to give him an additional breathing treatment in the ambulance and three more once we were in the emergency room.

It’s pretty scary to watch paramedics strapping your tiny child to a huge ambulance gurney; you realize this is for real. It was never life threatening but he was a pretty sick little boy. We were admitted and I sat in a rocker for hours in my dirty jeans and stringy hair watching the monitor numbers rise and fall with each breath.

He started to improve pretty quickly and by yesterday morning he was bouncing around trying to play with all the buttons on the bed. His appetite reappeared today and he’s got a twinkle in his eye again.

Whew.

Adam’s not crawling yet but he has figured out how to scoot around on his bum. He leans forward and pulls with his hands while kicking wildly with his feet, he looks like a crab. We’ve now started referring to it as crabbing and we’ll tell him to “crab on over here” and get whatever he’s wanting. So movement - yay! Though we’ll probably get in trouble for encouraging it when his therapist comes next week because she really wants him to crawl. I do too, but he gets so upset when we try to get him into crawling position. He collapses into tears and sobs and then wipes snot all over my carpet. We obviously have a way to go with the crawling so I’ll take crabbing for now.

Now that he can move, he’s everywhere and in to everything. And he’s rough! Lots rougher than my girls were. Toddler toys the girls played with that we’ve been saving for years in the basement have been quickly dispatched to that great toy box in the sky. Board books have been torn apart, doors and windows have been snapped off of houses and barns, electronics have been smashed, and stuffed animals have been horribly maimed.

And it’s not just his toys. He’s been singularly responsible for the destruction of several containers of eyeshadow (mine), a pair of sunglasses (mine), some magazines (Dan’s), and a My Little Pony Sit ‘N Spin display stand (Mia’s). Dan has started calling him the Tasmanian Devil because he crabs through the house like whirling dervish destroying everything in his path.

I’ve been sensitive to the whole “nature vs. nurture” debate since we had Adam and I do find myself treating him differently than I did the girls. When they bumped their heads or fell while learning to stand I’d coo and cuddle them until they felt better. With Adam I find myself telling him to be tough and when I notice the difference, I hate myself for it. But he is tougher than they were and I don’t know if it’s because he’s just that way or because we expect it of him.

Either way, I fear for us when he finally learns to walk.

Thanks, everyone for your kind comments about the baby. My due date is January 13 which means if this one comes as early as Adam did, I’ll have a Christmas baby. Not really looking forward to that possibility but if it happens, it happens. There’s nothing we can do about it now. (Shoulda thought of that a few months ago and done the math a little better, eh?)

I did some first level genetic screening in July, mostly because I’m 35 and birth defect risks increase quite a bit at that age. Of course we’d accept and love a disabled child just as much as we do the others, but I wanted to be prepared. It doesn’t help that the paperwork I’m getting from my doctors and insurance company justify the reason for the screening as “advanced maternal age.” Phooey. I have a tween hitting puberty, I don’t need anything else making me feel old.

The tests came back normal and our risk for Downs Syndrome dropped from 1/60 to 1/2400. So things are looking good so far. My next ultrasound is scheduled for August 29 and we’ll find out the gender. I hope it’s a boy for Adam’s sake so he can have a buddy but I won’t be disappointed if it’s a girl either. I’m not quite ready to give up the dress up, princess, twirly dress thing and Amy and Mia are definitely too old for most of that.

There’s this -

And this -

And this -

And this -

Baby number four, due mid January! We haven’t quite decided yet if we’re incredibly brave or incredibly stupid since Adam will only be 20 months old when the baby is born. I can’t imagine how I’ll mange four children, but I didn’t know how I’d cope with one, then two, then three so things will work out. We’re likely to have plenty of days that totally suck, but I know we’ll have more good days than bad.

This baby represents the culmination of some intensely spiritual moments where we realized with absolute certainty that God had more spirits destined for our home. Not just one, but two. We knew Adam needed a buddy and from the moment he was born we felt the void that meant our family was not yet complete.

However, this is definitely our last. I have a little countdown clock running in my head and it’s a good feeling to know that this is my last time dealing with morning sickness, my last time going through childbirth, my last time . . . (fill in the blank). I’m sure at some point I’ll feel wistful and a little baby hungry again (probably when my youngest is 30) but right now I’m really really happy to glimpse a light at the end of the vomit/weight gain/stretch mark tunnel.

All this hit home a few months ago when I was helping her wash her hair in the shower. This was before our newfound independence when I still had to make sure she got all the soap out. She had lathered and rinsed and we were waiting for the conditioner to do its job, which takes a few minutes since her hair is very thick. While I was waiting, I noticed a hair hanging down the back of her arm and tried to pull it off only to find that it was attached . . . to her armpit.

She screamed, I screamed, and then I aged 10 years on the spot.

Why is my (then) nine-year-old producing underarm hair? Not only that, LONG underarm hair and why hadn’t I noticed before? And oh crap, she’d been wearing a sleeveless leotard to dance class and had anyone there seen it? And why didn’t she tell me? And am I the worst mom in the world to not have figured this out before now? Should I have been more aware? I didn’t even know I had to be aware yet. And blar-de-blar-de-blar…

Amy was embarrassed and didn’t want to show me again so I waited until she fell asleep and snuck in with a flashlight to peek down the sleeve of her pajamas. I know, sneaky, but I had to KNOW. I had to see what I was dealing with. And yes, underarm hair. Not as long as I’d first thought and not very thick, but still.

So the next day we had a talk in which I tried to make it sound like not a big deal even though to me it was a very big deal. And we bought her some Veet which did absolutely nothing so we bought her some razors and now she’s fine and hair-free.

For now.

And I feel suddenly a lot older.

Happy birthday Amy! You’re awesome. I love you!

But I will now.

After almost two years of back and forth, the bank finally accepted our settlement offer, signed the bloody papers, and dropped the lawsuit. Two years! To accomplish something that could have happened in half an hour if they had been willing to simply talk to us face-to-face, as we requested many, many times.

Since our house hasn’t sold yet, we had to refinance our mortgage to get the money to pay the settlement and the lawyers. Not our first choice but it was our only option. I was really tempted to do something gross to the cashier’s checks but finally decided to take the high road.

The relief around here is tangible. Obviously we wish things could have turned out differently and that it had not cost us all this money but at least it’s done. We don’t have to dread the next phone call from the lawyers or worry that something worse is just around the corner. It’s been a long stretch of anxiety, stress, tears, worry, and grief and I’m glad to see it go.

There are lots of things we’ll never be able to resolve. We let the statute of limitations lapse on our option to sue the builder for stealing our construction loan because we don’t want to spend any more time or money on this. We’d love to see him pay for his crime and we have a very good case so we’d most likely win. But awarded money is not the same as collected money and we know we’d never see a dime.

We also will never know the extent of the bank’s involvement. We paid them to verify the work was done before releasing funds and they didn’t. We’ve asked them to justify that many times and they’ve refused. We don’t know if it was negligence or if something else was going on and the only way we’d get it out of them is in a trial.

Before the ink was dry, before the papers had even been officially filed, our lawyers started hassling us for the rest of the money we owed them. At the beginning we paid them a large retainer (which they burned through in about five weeks) and since we didn’t have yet another umpteen thousand dollars to dump into their till, they agreed to accept monthly payments. We didn’t even have a copy of the settlement agreement yet and they started sending nasty emails and calling several times a day demanding payment in full.

Paying the lawyers was almost as galling as having to pay the bank. When we met with them two years ago, they assured us, promised us that we would never have to pay anywhere near the amount the bank was originally demanding. Well, we didn’t have to pay it to the bank. But when you add in their fees they ended up saving us about $3000 and added to our stress level considerably. In hindsight I’d almost rather have just paid the bank what they asked and been done with it.

To summarize…

Us = Not happy. So much time, energy, and money gone.

The bank = Not happy. Probably spent more suing us than they got back in the settlement.

The lawyers = Very happy. Multiple steak dinners on our dime, two years of steady work, and payment that does not justify the work performed.

We’ve endured plenty of very dark days but the clouds are starting to lift a little. Our financial future has taken a huge hit and we are having to let go of many cherished dreams. It will take a long time to recover from this and I’m sure there will be difficult decisions and hard days ahead, but there are many people better than me who have been through far worse. I’m grateful every day that my children are healthy and happy and we have our freedom and our faith.

Dan and I have learned a lot, mostly the hard way, and from now on we’ll be wiser and more careful with our future. If I could pass on any advice, it would be this:

(1) Be careful who you trust. No matter how sincere someone may seem or how long you’ve known them, money changes people.

(2) Question everything and get it in writing. Be very wary of deals where the risk is not spread evenly.

(3) Trust your gut. Big money and fantastic returns rarely come without strings attached.

(4) Don’t let anyone have access to your money or your credit.

(5) Avoid lawsuits like the plague. If you’re in a bad situation, try and work it out. Use a mediator if necessary but do everything you can to stay out of court.

(6) Never, NEVER completely trust a lawyer. They’ll always put their own interest over yours.

• The mom is a single mother with no local family, hence, no one else to take the baby when it is sick, when we are sick, or if I need a break.
• The mom works full-time for a cabinet maker but her schedule is sporadic so she needs babysitting for 45 hours a week anytime between 6 a.m. and 10 p.m., Monday - Saturday.
• The baby is six months old but is still on breastmilk only, has never had a bottle or a pacifier, and there are no immediate plans to start her on solid food. The mom figured she would try to time her breaks so she could come here to nurse the baby.
• The previous babysitter was quitting because the baby pretty much cries all the time and cannot be consoled.
• The baby’s naps last 15 minutes or less.
• The baby wants to be held all the time and does not like walkers, jumpers, high chairs, gyms, the floor, or any other type of entertainment.
• The mom said it would be fine for my 8-year-old to take the baby on the trampoline (!?), but was worried that the gerbils (who are fully caged all the time) would gnaw her fingers off.
• She was offering $1.25 per hour.

I felt bad for turning her down since obviously she’s in a bind. But my sympathies do not extend to martyrdom.

2. During this incredibly brief vacation, they have decided they want to learn to sew clothes for their American Girl dolls. So we went shopping and after much discussion and deliberation, they settled on this pattern. Cute, but a bit complicated for a first timer. Which means that I will most likely be making clothes for their American Girl dolls.

3. We have not sold the house yet (since some of you have asked). We have at least one or two showings a week, enough that it’s a battle to keep the house clean and not enough to get my hopes up. No offers. I know it’s the market and all that but it’s hard not to get discouraged.

4. Due to the upcoming school schedule, we now have less than three weeks to decide if we’re actually going or staying and when and where and how. And if we leave do we keep the house vacant and stage it or try to rent it? And should we leave it on the market and maybe move halfway through the school year or pull it off and try again next year, if at all? I was hoping to have this all resolved long before now and every time I think about it I want to throw up.

5. My sister is visiting from Maryland and has enacted a shock and awe plan to win Adam’s loyalty that involves lots of outside time and a some chocolate covered raisins. It’s worked - she had him at hello.

6. We are attempting to make some summertime skirts (for us) while she’s here but keep getting distracted by chubby baby butt and tiny doll patterns.

7. Adam still refuses to walk or crawl or really move very much at all. I am still deciding whether I need to amp up the worry factor on this.

8. French onion Sun Chips are awesome but I could do without the next morning aftertaste.

9. I hate the PBS show Clifford. The cheesy storylines, the extreme political correctness, and the fact that no one seems the least bit bothered that it’s a gigantic dog. What about the barking and the shedding and the poop? Have we not thought these things through?

My brother’s girlfriend was out of town so my brother was watching her dog. Then, my brother went out of town so who do you think was absolutely thrilled to dogsit for a week? Yep, Amy, who is obsessed with all things dog. I allowed it because I figured it would be a good intro into the work she’d have if we ever grant her deepest desire and get a dog of her own.

So Coco Chanel came to stay.

And of course we couldn’t send her back to my brother (who was already a bit tweaked about the pink collar, pink bag, and pink leash he had to tote around) without an accessory. So we whipped up a doggie tutu - because she is a pretty, pretty princess.

Yes, I made dance wear…for a DOG. That’s what it’s come to.

No real reaction from Miss Chanel but I hear the girlfriend loved it. My brother? Not so much.

Kohl’s Employee: Are you putting this on your Khol’s charge account?

Me: No, it’s cash.

KE: Do you have a Khol’s charge account?

Me: No. And I don’t want one either.

KE: If you open an account right now you can save 15% today and additional savings all year long.

Me: No thanks.

KE: (Gives me the stink eye.) It only takes a few minutes and I can sign you up right here.

Me: No, THANK YOU.

KE: I don’t understand why anyone would say no to this offer. You’ll save a lot of money.

Man who checked out before me but is still hanging around: Yeah, you save a TON of money.

I must point out here that I just watched this man pay $50 down on his store credit balance and then put another $175 on the card. And the reason he is still hanging around is that he is guarding his wife’s overflowing cart while she runs off to hunt for just one more item. So he already spent $175 and there’s at least another $200 piled in the cart for her.

Me: I just want to pay for this stuff and go.

KE: Well how about signing up for our email newsletter? You’ll get special offers throughout the year.

Me: Aaaaaaahhhhhh!

And so finally when I threatened not to buy anything at all, the clerk takes my cash and pouted through the transaction while the guy in debt watched and shook his head sadly.

Heaven forbid I should pay for something with money I already have. Heaven forbid I should spare myself the 30% interest. Heaven forbid I decline dozens of spam emails every month.

Call off the dogs, Kohl’s.

So gee - posting has really slowed down around here. Not on purpose. I have a lot I want to write about, I just can’t seem to schedule the time. D’oh!

But while I’m here, let’s talk about the girl. Amy is almost ten, almost finished with fourth grade, almost a tween. It seems like she’s getting taller, prettier, and more mature every day. Right now she’s at the age where she’s all arms and legs and she hurtles around the house on too-big feet, occasionally crashing into things and hovering between loving her favorite toys and thinking they are babyish. She’s getting more and more responsible and not too long ago we passed the very important milestone of being able to shower completely on her own without me having to check to make sure she’s washed all the shampoo out. All this, combined with the fact that we recently had to buy something that rhymes with braining tra (coverage more than support), and I feel like I’m losing my baby girl. Whaaa!

Due to a strange genetic mutation, Amy is a much more social person than either of her parents. She likes to be involved and though we try not to overwhelm her, this year May seemed to be another December with a flurry of recitals and school programs. In less than two weeks she had two 4th Grade programs, the school choir concert, a piano recital, and a dance recital (plus the six-hour dress rehearsal the night before). Here she is in the pioneer costume I made for her 4th Grade program.

But about the dance recital…I really like her dance teacher for many reasons, but I think she went a little overboard with this recital. She has always had a vendetta against general audience bonehead behavior like catcalling or whooping and her opinion is that her recitals are fine arts performances and should be treated as such. Fine with me - I think nothing is more annoying than frenzied parents calling out names when a group of girls takes the stage.

But this year she declared that flash photography was strictly forbidden and anyone caught using a flash could be evicted from the auditorium. Of course many people ignored this at first but after one group of dancers performed the teacher’s husband, who was running the sound and lights, came on the PA and berated everyone for using flashes. “I hope you all feel like heels” were his exact words. The next time it happened, he actually stopped the music mid-dance, instantly throwing a dozen four-year-olds into confusion and fear while he yelled at their parents for taking pictures.

Okay. This is not the New York City Ballet or the Lord of the Dance touring company. This is a smallish dance studio in a smallish city filled with smallish dancers whose parents have ponied up quite a lot of money for them to strut their stuff. Tuition went up by more than 40% last year plus there’s a hefty costume charge and a recital fee. I know it’s not the most expensive studio out there but it adds up. I think being able to snap a few pictures of the kid performing is part of the payoff for the parents.

And when you consider that classes are only one hour a week and they spend almost the entire year working on the recital numbers, the pictures are a payoff for the dancers too. They want to see themselves in all their glittery, make-uped glory. We tried to take a few shots of Amy without the flash and of course they didn’t work out and she was so disappointed. Sure, hundreds of flashes going off can get annoying, but it’s a kid’s dance recital. You go expecting that the aisles will be crammed with video cameras, flashes will be going off like crazy, and moms will be climbing over you to get the best possible shot of their little darling.

I happen to know that the income from the dance studio provides for more than half of the living expenses for the teacher and her family. So to get so worked up and angry about this seems a little bit like biting the hand that feeds you to me. I know several parents who were upset and I noticed that the applause at the end of the show when the teacher took the stage was not nearly as loud as it has been in year’s past.

So what do you think? Did they go a bit overboard or is this a lesson we should all learn?

* And by the way we’re only talking about Amy here because Mia decided after the Christmas recital that she was tired of dancing. Of course, after the spring recital she was sobbing uncontrollably because she missed it so much and dancing is her calling and now I have to try and get her back in when there’s a three-page waiting list. So maybe the yelling will work for us because someone got fed up and pulled their kid out, leaving a spot for Mia. We can only hope.