Sick Kids, Bratty Kids, Birthdays and Amish People

The past few weeks have been hammering away at me. Isabella brought home a lovely little virus called RSV a couple weeks ago, and passed it along to Nicholas, Nick and me. To a baby, RSV is extremely dangerous and requires hospitalization, but once they are kids, it is very manageable. Isabella kicked it within a few days, and Nick and I were minorly under the weather. But Nicholas got whammed with a terrible case if it. He had high fevers for days where I had to double dose him with Tylenol and Motrin just to get the fever to come down. The second doctor visit I took him to after 6 days of feeling completely miserable, revealed that he had both RSV and Pnumonia. He was on antibiotics and breathing treatments for 10 days. He is finally back to his healthy, happy self.


In addition to me carrying Nicholas around the house for days due to his miserable-ness, I have been fighting with Taylor and her big-bad-17-year-old-all-knowing-self. I am so tired of everything being a conflict and having to explain my actions to a child. I feel like a punching bag, and am constantly inundated with comments on how unfair everything is and how I am the ONLY parent who does or does not do this or that. If I dare say no, I am faced with nastiness and disrepectfulness. Everyone warned me that teenagers are tough, but holy crapoly, this is no joke! If this continues into next year when she is a senior, I am going to be marching through the house chanting "Army, Navy, Airforce, Marines..." And she can take her pick. I keep silently praying - Just get her to adulthood, just get her to adulthood, please, please, please!!


My friend Sarah has a young teenager, and is having some issues with her daughter, and obviously, this week was a tough one. She wrote about it here, and she must have been having a trying day, because boy was she on a rampage. As I read it I was yelling at my computer screen "Yeah, Sarah! You tell it like it is sister!!" It has to get better, right? My mom said I was a hethan as a teenager and I turned out okay. My favorite saying to the kids when they've had a tough day is "tomorrow will be a better day". I'm pretty sure tomorrow will not be a better day, but that better day will come eventually. I just have to hold on.


On a lighter note, we are knocking the birthdays out one by one with the utmost efficiency. We are nearing the end of "Birthday Season", but to recap the months of February and March, we celebrated my brother-in-law's and my grandmother-in-law's birthdays. (Is that a title?) Then we had a double party with the family for Nicholas who turned 3 and Taylor who turned 17 at our house. That was the same weekend that I spent 18 hours at the high school setting up for, then working a cheerleading competition. It was dreadful.

The next birthdays are my Sister's husband, Dave, which is next week. But they had the audacity to go to The Cayman Islands for spring break. I know, how lame can you get? Who would want to be in the Cayman Islands at this time of year? It's so nice and wintery here, which I love. Anyway, I digress. My little sweet cheeks hubby is also having a birthday soon, and he hates celebrating his birthday. I'm not sure why exactly. He says that he hates having all the attention on him while he opens presents and sitting in the spotlight watching everyone watching him while singing Happy Birthday very loudly and out of key.  I think it is because his parents secretly tortured him every year on the day of his birth. They will vehemently deny this, I am certain. This year, Nick will get a pass for his birthday. Don't get me wrong, he will still be made to sit through opening presents and cake singing, but I will do it in combination with Easter. His birthday and Easter are 2 weeks apart and we always have the family over for Easter, so because I am feeling lazy and burned out, it's going to be one big party.


Lastly, in an effort to keep my sanity, I started spending my quiet mornings, before the little children awakened, reading a series of books that someone gave me. The Author's name is Beverly Lewis and she grew up in Lancaster County, PA, which is an Amish community. She writes fiction novels about the Amish. I think I suffer from addiction problems, because in the same manner that I was addicted to re-runs of Friday Night Lights, I have now become addicted to these stories.  I have always been intrigued by the Amish ways and love their sense of simpleness and fellowship within their community. I don't think I would survive long living my life Amish, (getting this frizzy hair in a tight little bun under a head cap would be the first hurdle) but I would love to spend a month living with a family and learning their skills in homemaking and mothering and discipline. I would be a sponge and soak up as much knowledge as I could.


I was given 3 books, which I assumed were all part of the same series, but they were just the first books in 3 different trilogies. After I read the first book, I raced to the library to get the second and third in that particular series. I finished those and am now on another trilogy. I have read 2 of the 3 and am waiting for the library to call me with the third. I know that it's fiction, but I am learning so much about these really awesome people. I feel like I have first hand knowledge of thier lifstyle. I know it's crazy. Not far from our town, there is a predominantly Amish community, so I see the women at my pediatrician's office and at Walmart all the time. (They LOVE Walmart) Well since I have been reading these novels, I feel like I know these ladies. I wanted to walk up to these 3 women at walmart yesterday and say "Hi, do you want to be my friend? Because I think you are so cool. And I know how to say thank you in Pennsylvania Dutch!" I had to restrain myself because I am sure they would have thought "No, crazy lady with your flamboyant clothes and outspoken children, we don't!"  For now I will just keep reading these incredibly inspiring stories. I wonder how long my family will allow me to say "Denki" instead of "thank you". Probably not very long.