Early

I found out last week that Peyton will be starting preschool tomorrow, a week earlier than originally scheduled. There was a change in teachers and thus, a bit of a change in the schedule. I was excited to hear about it because he really needs something to do. (He's sick of being left behind when his "kids" (brothers & sister) go to school.) And then, I had the nerve to go and feel conflicted, too.

I'm excited. And I'm dreading it. I'm happy. And I'm sad. I'm looking forward to the "me" time. And I'm worried I won't know what to do with myself. It's silly. He's growing up and there's nothing I can do about. And so, I'm going to have to embrace it.

What The?!

Peyton was helping me take clothes out of the dryer (a big deal for me, the fact I allowed him to help really makes me feel like I'm growing). He pulled out a pair of red sweat pants that belong to Cameron, but he has a pair exactly like them. When he pulled them out he said, "hey, look! It's my pants". He then held them up to himself and a hilariously confused expression came across his face. He then said, "what the?! MOM!! My pants grew in the dryer and they're GIGANTIC!". It was so cute and funny, I didn't bother to correct him and let him know who they actually belong to.

He's Got My Back

Peyton's really into space and spaceships and flying in a spaceship to the moon and aliens that fly in spaceships, too. Oh, and zombies. He's really into zombies as well. He talks about those things all the time. He mainly talks to me because I'm around him the most, but he'll talk about them with anyone who crosses his path, too. He wants to play alien zombie when he's playing with his brothers or sister. He plays alien zombie when he's all alone. It's alien zombie all the time.

When he's imagining and playing, the scenario goes something like this: there are aliens flying in spaceships in space, heading toward the Earth. He flies up into space in his own spaceship to try to intercept them at the moon. They usually get past him because they're really determined. They really want to do what they're coming here to do. What is it they want to do? They want to destroy me. (Mom) Once they get here, zombies somehow arrive, too. At that point, it's an all out battle to destroy mom. Madness ensues. Horrific battles occur as the aliens and zombies try to destroy mom. I'm supposed to get/act really nervous at this point in the story and then he tells me not to worry. He's going to protect me and destroy all of them because he's good at fighting. Plus, he has a light saber that they don't stand a chance against. It's a given that he's going to win. Duh. So, when the Alien Zombie Apocalypse to Destroy Mom occurs, Peyton's got my back. I'm going to be just fine. Phew!

I Think I've Found a Solution

So, I've been trying the fish oil on my dog's food for a while now. And....meh. I haven't noticed much of an improvement. Other than his hair being a bit softer and his farts being stinkier. I've still been able to brush pounds and pounds of hair off him every other day. And the amount I vacuum up daily? Still totally terrible.

I've been feeling really anxious about it. I'm not a total clean freak, but my house is neat enough. It does have its fair share of clutter, believe me. What house with kids doesn't? (My "public" areas are the ones that look the best, by the way.) But, I would say that, in general, it's a clean house. It's just that I don't like things to be covered in dog hair and everything has seemed to be covered in it lately.

I've been getting desperate to find a better solution and today, I think I did. I found this brush today at Walmart. (Still having blogger issues and can't do a hyper link. I'm seriously considering a switch to Wordpress because of all the problems. I've been hearing good things about it.)

http://www.furgopet.com/

Anyway, this thing is amazing. I filled a grocery bag just about half full (literally and gagged the entire time) with the hair I brushed off of him. It's essentially like a razor. In fact, it reminded me of the kind of razor used on people. You know, the kind used when you have your hair textured and thinned. It worked just like that. It also pulled out the undercoat very, very, very well. The dog enjoyed it too. He seemed to be relieved to be getting rid of all the excess hair. The real test of its effectiveness will be checking the amount I'm able to vacuum up daily. If that decreases, I'll know that the brush is actually working. I'm crossing my fingers!

Interesting

I went to back to school night last night. I met Tyler and Avery's teachers and re-met Cameron's. (He had her for first grade. He was pretty darn ticked when he found out he would have her again. He thought a new and different teacher would be more exciting, fun and adventurous. It took almost the entire summer to make him see the benefits of not having to break in a new one. She already knows him. She knows his likes and dislikes, his habits and quirks. And more importantly, she already likes him. He finally heard the wisdom in my words and has decided having the same teacher twice won't be so bad.) This school year should prove to be a very interesting one. Tyler's teacher seems like she's going to be very on top of the turning in of class work and homework. That was a major problem for him last year. He would do the homework (and he must have been doing the class work as well because his teacher never complained about him not being on task) and I know he would because I would make him show me once he was done. I would then make him put it directly into his backpack and would ask him as soon as he got home if he had turned it in. But, it somehow magically, strangely, inexplicably was "never turned in". We couldn't ever find them at our house because, believe me, we searched everywhere. His teacher never had a clue where they could be either. He would always get extremely upset when missing assignment reports were sent home and swear on his life that he had, in fact, turned them in. He would get so upset every single time that there was no way he could have been acting. No kid is that good and can keep up the facade for that long. So, I actually really do believe that he WAS turning them in. But, that was last year. We've put it behind us and we're moving on.

Avery has a pair of teachers, who happen to be mother and daughter. I liked them and she seems to like them too. I think that they're going to be good for her. They were organized and that's a big plus in my book. (See previous paragraph. ☺) I'm looking forward to watching all of my children learn and grow and expand their minds this school year. (Peyton too! Preschool starts on September 27th. Only 32 more days!!!!!! Not that I'm counting down, or anything.)

I Need to Get Moving

I've been up since 6:30 and so far, my accomplishments are getting the three oldest kids off to school, feeding Peyton breakfast, washing 2 loads of laundry and eating a piece of bread. Four tasks in 3 1/2 hours! Wow! I really need to slow down and pace myself. (I really do have quite a bit to do today, but I'm practicing one of my greatest talents, procrastination. At least for another few minutes. Then I really do need to get my butt in gear, or I'll be in serious trouble. ☺)

I found a notebook/journal on Monday that I had purchased in November 2009 to use as my "gratitude journal". (I had filled up random pages of others. So, this was supposed to be my exclusive one.) Well, I misplaced it after only 1 entry and because of that, fell out of the habit of writing down at least five things I'm grateful for each day. Shame on me! It's a great habit to have and when I did it regularly, I can honestly say I was more positive. I was almost always able to find something I was grateful for and see the positive elements that were part of my day. I'm so glad I found the notebook and was reminded of the wonderful effects looking for the good in my day can have on my overall outlook on life. Here's to gratitude!

You Give Me Fever?

Peyton has been running a fever on and off since Tuesday. (He seems to be fine today. Thank goodness!) He does this every few months for some reason. He'll run a fever for a few days and feel like crap and then it goes away. The fever is usually the only symptom of the "sickness". I've taken him to the doctor a couple of different times when it's happened and the answer is usually that it's "viral" (the most hated answer for a mom with a sick child) and there's nothing to do for it but wait it out. Unfortunately, there have been a couple of times when his fevers have caused him to have a fembrile (sp?) seizure. (The last one happened in the spring.) They're not dangerous, or neurological in nature. Basically, they're just a child's way of "resetting" their body when a fever spikes. Once the seizure is over, he's really none the worse for wear, sleeps for 30 minutes to an hour and has no recollection of it later. His doctor feels it's something that he'll outgrow by the time he's about 5. But, for the time being, I can't ever let his fever get very high. So, we've been alternating with Motrin & Tylenol every few hours. It's done the trick and has kept the fever in check.

*************************************************************

I woke up this morning at around 6:00, shivering and feeling pretty poopy. I was so cold; I actually had to cover myself with the blanket. I never sleep covered in the summer. So, I was really cold! I thought Peyton must have decided to share with me whatever virus he's had. But, no, it turns out it was just the beginnings of a migraine. I'll take that over a virus that lasts for days, but it still stinks. I stayed in my bed for a couple of hours with ice packs and a pillow over my head to block out light and I'm feeling much better now.

As I was lying there, I was trying to distract myself from the pain. I was thinking that my wedding anniversary was fast approaching (September 11th) and about how much I love this time of the year because of that. So, as I was thinking about all of that, I was trying to remember how many years we've been married...and I COULDN'T. What woman forgets how long she's been married!? I do when I have a headache. STUPID HEADACHE! I had to count on my fingers a few different times before I finally figured out that it's 13 years. 13 years! Wow.