Man, it's been hot.

As long as the temperature doesn't budge another degree, today will be the day we break a 17 day streak of triple digits.

We are so looking forward to hopping on a plane to a cooler and drier climate. Utah and Idaho ought to do it.

In honor of our upcoming flight, a flight I do not wish to be tracking down crayons as they roll off the little trays again and again, I went ahead and took the opportunity to sew some crayon rolls.



Crayon rolls are so 2010, I know. And they've been on my list since then. But such is life around here, I just got around to making them this week.




I love sewing. I just love it. I haven't done it nearly as much as I would like or as much as I have in the past, but whenever I sit down and get going, I get so happy.






The crayon rolls were very well received and actually reminded Ava that she has a mother who can make things. And she had something in mind.

Now, I have had many thoughts, ruminations, discussions with friends and family on the topic of modesty and modesty for children, especially little girls. The thing that bothers me the most with little girls clothing is not necessarily the amount of skin showing (you know, within reason) but the objective of the outfit. It's when a 3 year old is dressed to look like she's a 14 year old, who's dressed to look like a 30 year old hooch, that really ruffles my feathers. That's not gonna happen over here but I did have to figure out what was going to happen here. I came around to the place that to me, I don't mind little girls in sleeveless dresses at all. The only conundrum comes when I try to figure out at which point that child is no longer little and needs to be more covered up. I concluded that I would figure it out when I got there.

Now I just have one girl. Her wardrobe choices have been a source of disagreement since the beginning of time. But when this girl, learned about modesty, there were no more questions. I'd hand her a Sunday dress (sleeveless) and she'd tell me she needed a shirt to go under it.

Okay.

I sewed her a dress (sleeveless) and she told me it wasn't modest and she'd need a sweater or a shirt under it.

Okay.

Needless to say I am often the student in my house and my kids', the teacher. I don't have to figure out when she's not little anymore, because in lots of ways she is already wise. I've started planning what I will say when she sees my prom pictures.

But on to her sewing request. Barbie was feeling way too bare. She really needed a sweater.

Okay!





I'm not quite crazy enough to think this is how Ava will always see it, but right now, I'm not going to argue.

Probably Won't Quit His Day Job

Digging back in the recesses of our computer today, we found these.

Maybe it's just me, but I think we might be on the verge of the next big exercise video empire. You can judge for yourself.

Science Museum Take 2, Horse Tangent, and Knocking on Wood

I'm probably jinxing myself by saying it, but I have loved this summer so far. We've done a lot of hanging out at home, little trips to the store or the fountains, just regular stuff. Next week you will probably be reading about how I tripped in a parking lot and sprained an ankle, and one of the kids got pneumonia, and I'm an emotional basket case. Just because that seems to be what happens when you start thinking everything is hunky dory.

Wouldn't you know that with all the plans and researching I did in preparation for this summer, this past month has been great. And not because of my plans. Just because the regular, everyday stuff has been enough to keep us all happy.

We've done some of my planned activities, but we haven't done most of them. I've just had them waiting in the wings should the need arise, but maybe next year my goal should be to actually accomplish the stuff on the calendar.

We painted rocks for colorful yard art.






We did some experiments for Science Week.


We watched what would happen when our carnations and celery drank colored water,





Ava drew her hypothesis while Luke made faces,





Next up was rock candy.


Objective: Make rock candy
Hypothesis: Sugar crystals will grow
Conclusion: Mom stinks at making candy



Our rock candy was a failure. At least the kids forgot about the jars after a day so I got to save face and just throw them away after they were in bed one night.


In accordance with our science stuff, we went to Fort Worth Science Museum for the second time. The first time around (last week) we only made it as far as the Will Rogers Coliseum across the street where the American Paint Horse Association World Championship Horse Show was taking place.

In a totally spontaneous move, we ditched the museum idea and headed over to see what we could at the show. Since the beginning of this year I have had the strong desire to take back up horse back riding. I think it has been fueled by watching (reading) my friend, Leah (not to be confused with my sister, Leah, who is also a horse woman) and her family's adventures as they've stepped into the horse world. Ava is obsessed with horses and wants to take lessons very much. I started when I was 7 and I think that's the earliest I'd start them for her.

Back in the day I used to ride horses. I was kind of the tag-along to my sister who was really the rider of the family. She excelled with hard earned skill and technique. I got along on mostly moxy (which has inexplicably left me as I've gotten older) and athleticism. We did exciting and crazy stuff that leaves me scratching my head now. Was that really me? Did we really do those things?

Jumping was my thing. My favorite horse to ride was named Paul Bunyan. He was a draft/thoroughbred cross and he was over 17 hands tall (which is big!). He rode like a freight train. Our lessons were always exciting. My teacher had us doing things like jumping with no feet in the stirrups, no hands on the reins, with our eyes closed.

Now as a mother I'm not sure how my parents watched us, let alone shelled out their hard earned money so their daughters could gamble with their lives each week.

Recently, as I plotted my return to horses, I was thinking that dressage might be a better avenue for me to pursue in my old age. It's completely flat work, still very interesting but not as likely to land me in the dirt with a broken something.

At the show last week, we sat at the far end of the arena. I watched each rider and was reminded about how much I have forgotten in these last 14 years. At the same time though, I had the feeling that if I got back on, I could pick it back up pretty quickly. But as I watched them jump the course, I started thinking that maybe dressage wasn't going to be enough for me. I found myself flexing muscles, leaning around corners, etc. with each movement. As the minutes passed I was convincing myself that jumping was the way I wanted to go.

And then all of the sudden, a horse stumbled on a jump. The rider was thrown forward but her foot was caught in the stirrup. Instead of falling away from the horse she finally fell right underneath and was trampled a good 3 or 4 times, right on her chest and stomach. And then she laid on the dirt like a rag doll as her horse skittered away.

My stomach was sick. Luckily, our view of the girl was mostly obscured by a jump, the boys were otherwise engaged, and Ava was coloring a horse picture. It took nearly 15 minutes for the ambulance to arrive, which is outrageous to me considering how large this show was. They should have had them onsite.

She was carried off on a board, and we will never know what happened to her. But as we waited and watched, I reconsidered. Dressage will be juuuust fine. Just fine.

So anyways, we went to the Science Museum this week. It was a really fun place. We didn't even get to see all of it, so a return trip is in our future. I have a few low quality phone pictures, but we'll have to wait until Dan gets home so he can help me put them on here. Dan has been out of town the past few days and of course I had been dreading it, but like the rest of this summer, it has been a pleasant surprise.





We are in a good place right now and it feels good.

Guess What?

Somebody went to the dentist.

Somebody got a sedative and was the model patient. (Although somebody was pretty out of it for a few hours).



Somebody has a surprise hiding right behind this silly face.



Ta-Da! A beautiful smile. You know, minus the milkshake remnants still on his face.


It's amazing how different he looks to us without a chipped tooth. And I am happy to report that he neither freaked nor fainted. He drank his medicine, fell asleep in my arms, and then remained awake but zombie like for his entire procedure.

He was really woozy coming out of it, really just wanted a drink of water, and was so proud of himself, he asked if he could "go back to the dentist tomorrow?"

Not Your Average Joe

Tonight I looked out the window and saw Dan with the kids on the trampoline. It has been so hot here lately that it hasn't been used as much as it used to. But tonight, right before bed, Dan took them all out to play.

I walked past the window just in time to see Dan turn his eyelids inside out, put his hands up near his face, bear his teeth, stick out his tongue, and chase after the kids. I could hear their shrieks and screams of delight all the way in the kitchen.

Then I remembered this little entry I saw in Ava's journal from Kindergarten.



Let me translate for you, in case you are not fluent in Kindergartenese:

I like to play with my Dad.


I love that that is the answer to the question, What is your favorite thing to do?


I went back to the window after I took this picture and watched some more. Dan sure looked silly, but I dare say, he's never looked better.

Right Now

From the twinkle in his eye, to the bottle in his mouth. From the stick in one hand, to Froggy in the other. This picture is Max. So Max.

I Hate the Dentist

Back in May I declared to myself that this would be the summer of trips and teeth. Meaning if we found ourselves eating ramen twice a day this summer it would be because we spent the rest of our money on trips and teeth.

Embarrassingly enough, Dan and I had not been to the dentist in far too long. Of course, Dan's pearly whites needed a good cleaning but he had no cavities. Me on the other hand, I had 5 cavities and was told I needed a crown on my fake front tooth. Also, Luke's visit to the dentist, revealed some cavities that needed filling as well as fixing up his broken front tooth. Ava still needs a visit to the dentist as well.

I had my appointment scheduled for my cavities for the middle of July. Thank goodness they had a cancellation and moved me up to this past week because it turns out that in the middle of July both my parents and Dan would be out of town which would have meant that the crazy dentist appointment would have come while I was flying solo.

Looking back on it now, I still don't know exactly what happened. There are a couple of possibilities, but I'm not sure we'll know, at least until I go back to the dentist next month. And no, I am not looking forward to it. It was either me or the epinephrine or the combination of the two.

I have written on this blog previously, that I don't do well with needles, blood, medical procedures, and the like. But in my recent past I have really turned a corner. In fact I credited Target (the link is worth a read to get the most from this post). So what happened after the Novocaine shot was almost totally unexpected. I certainly did not enjoy the three giant shots the dentist pushed into my gums. But he finished, left me alone to numb-up, and I was employing all manner of positive thinking and self-talk to keep myself calm.

I have survived many IV's and blood draws without incidence. I managed natural childbirth. I can do this. I can do this. No big deal.

I continued with these thoughts and was feeling confident that I could keep my cool. Then, after a few minutes, though very suddenly, I started to tingle every where. I knew the blood was leaving my extremities, I started sweating, and my eyes went black. I could feel myself losing consciousness and I also knew that because my chair was in the upright position, it would only be a matter of seconds until I hit the floor. I somehow screamed out a "help".

Next thing I know, I'm laid back, the dentist is there asking me if I'm okay, a lady is taking my blood pressure, and I'm breathing oxygen through the mask. The dentist asked me if my heart was racing. I told him I had no idea. All I knew was that I felt like I would pass out. Apparently the Novacaine contains epinephrine which can cause your heart to race and other similar reactions.

My blood pressure was ridiculously low and remained that way for a while. The dentist gave me the option of continuing on with the procedure or rescheduling. There was no way that I got those three heinous shots just to leave, so I told him we'd keep going and I'd like to buy the laughing gas, please. He told me he'd give it to me for free.

As I entered my altered state, he worked quickly. My blood pressure stayed low. He kept working, and as he did so, I came to the conclusion that in my long abscence from the dentist I must have forgotten how imperative it is for me to always have the gas.

The dentist finished up and told me this was the most exciting day they'd had in the office for a long time.

I go back in a month for the crown and I don't know what my plan should be. But I am really, really hoping we don't have a repeat performance. Luke's appointment is this week and we'll see how that goes. Hopefully, I passed to him the propensity for cavities only and not the predisposition to be a freaker or a fainter.