Peace that passes understanding

I've been writing all day in my head, longing to sit down and process what is going on. With some embarrassment I admit that most days, I do something on the computer three or four times, and more often than not at least two of those have to do with my blog. This is the first moment in the last two days I have had to consider what to write. Now I don't know how to begin. Honestly, I don't have time now, T still needs me to set up his bed, get the throw up bucket, the wool blanket, the clock, the ibuprofen and the acetaminophen...back soon.

First, some background. At the end of the first semester in grad school, T got mono. The girls were one and three. Our two bedroom campus house had about seven hundred square feet. And for T, mono wasn't something where he just slept a lot. His throat hurt so much that it crusted over and started bleeding. The pain was so intense that he didn't sleep for three days and then started hallucinating. He would imagine the house was on fire and start screaming. We didn't really have any friends as the snow had just thawed for the first time since we had moved in. The whole thing took three weeks and if my father-in-law hadn't made the 15-hour-drive to help out, I might have lost my mind.

OK, fast forward to this past Sunday. The pastor of the little tiny church we attend was out of town Sunday ( I promise I will bring this all together.) Sooo, T did the preaching. He taught from Nehemiah, about how Satan attacks. He's a good teacher (I know you don't necessarily believe me since I am his wife, but it is true) and the sermon hit home for several people.

OK, move to Monday. T came home from work exhausted and fatigued (I know these words seem redundant, but there are nuanced differences.). That night he went to bed early and later called me from upstairs. He was shivering so violently he wanted another warm body in the bed! Tuesday, Tom was so sick and had such a high fever, he couldn't go teach. He went to the doctor. They did a rapid strep test. Negative. We thought the test was wrong, and he just wanted drugs so he could go back to work. Today, after pestering the doctor, he got a mono test and a second strep test. Several bouts of uncontrolled shivers leave him more exhausted. He can barely walk. He is frustrated and worried that his students won't learn what they need to learn if they have to have a different sub each day. H is super naughty today and gets punished big time. I have to go grocery shopping, get things for T from Delta, and darn it those kids still want to eat all the time. After too long a wait, and a lot of phone calls to the doctor, we finally find out T's mono test was positive (94% of the population who have mono once, never get it again, and usually when they do it doesn't have symptoms). Only the doctor isn't positive it is mono, he is worried it could be hepatitis. T and I think back to his previous mono experience and try not to panic.

Here's the verse that keeps running through my head. "You will keep in perfect peace him whose mind is steadfast, because he trusts in you." I think I repeated this verse, or the parts I could remember, at least 10 times today. I am getting a better understanding of the peace Christ promised to leave to us. It doesn't mean we don't feel moments of panic, or that there aren't tears of frustration, but underlying it all, is a calm because I am not in control (sound like an oxymoron?). Part of my peace, comes from all the answered prayer I am seeing lately. Recently, God allowed me a huge victory over discontentment that has plagued me for years. In crying out to God tonight, we were joined by friends ( and being part of a new community is a great blessing). And I made it through the day, without snapping at anyone. Praise God.

A line from the day sticks out for me, shortly before our friends arrived to pray, T asked where the girls were. They were next door, where our friends moved in just today (Praise God!), playing a game called Zingo! T said, "I wish I could do that."I swallowed hard, gotta love a guy who longs to play with his girls. Also, given T's sermon topic, I have to wonder if there is spiritual warfare involved here. Pray for us. We head back to the doctor in the morning for more tests unless T is healed overnight. I'll keep writing, I'll probably need to.

Tidbits

Garden is growing. Tomatoes won't turn red, but they are there. Lots of them on some plants. One of the plants has none. H and I have been eating the green beans raw long before they get to the dinner table. The romaine is yummy and we are anxious for the first carrot. And those broccoli plants! I had no idea these plants were so huge. Sometimes, when I grow my own food, I'm amazed at how cheap produce is in the store. I mean broccoli takes a lot of land!
T and Cody replaced the roof on the garage last weekend. It's a metal roof (I hope no one steals it!--for out-of-towners, thieves have been after metal for scrap money and sometimes steal copper off of roofs).
We went bowling as a family this weekend at Stardust on State. It's a really nice alley and kids can bowl two free games a day all summer. Since T and I paid for our games and shoes, they didn't charge us for the girls' shoes. H actually beat me by one point, though she had bumpers and I did not. Of course, no matter how you put it, I am terrible bowler, but it is fun. T won, with five strikes in a row. K came in last, but only 3 points behind mommy! Gosh, I am a really bad bowler. I can't believe I even shared all this information!

We are done with swim lessons for the summer, H passed level 2. She is nervous about level 3 as they swim in the deep end.

Focus, Interupted

I have lost my ability to carry on a full-length conversation. I do OK one-on-one with someone I know. But in a group or with a new person, I can't figure what to say after a question or two. I start looking around for someone else to talk to. How rude of me. And I have no idea how to end a conversation anymore. I sometimes just walk away. Probably this abandoned person thinks I don't care about her, which isn't true, but what other conclusion is there? I think I know the cause of my delinquency.

For the last six and a half years I have been home with a child or two. When I enter into a conversation I am constantly scanning the room, watching my children, listening for inappropriate words, scanning for dangerous table corners, reading ingredient lists on food. Generally I don't finish conversations, I have to say,"excuse me," and run to the rescue. Now my girls are getting older and don't need so much rescuing. I suddenly have to finish conversations, have no excuse for not being more fully engaged, and don't know what to do. Part of my failure to focus comes from my personality, I don't enjoy small talk; part of it comes from the patterns of the last six years.

Just for the fun it, I thought I would try to capture a few minutes of life in our house. This conversation could happen at any time, but I choose this past Friday morning, getting ready for swim lessons. I think it demonstrates why I can't focus on anything but intense one-on-one conversations.

I am rushing around, cleaning up dishes, packing snacks, irritated at myself for the extra few minutes I spent blogging, rather than getting prepared.!
Me: H go put your swimsuit and cover up. Get ready to go. K, same for you.
H: OK
I move into the kitchen and start putting chips into baggies for post-swim snacks.
T: Have you seen my wallet? I can't find it. I had it last night at 7/11.
Me: Haven't seen it.
H: (following me) Mom, Mom, MOM , um, um m Should I get one frog or two? One frog might get lonely but two might make the tank too dirty and do you think the frozen bloodworms are gross?
T: (yelling)Laura, Can you help me look for my wallet?
Me: H, we will have to talk about this later.
I set down the snack bags, and start looking for T's wallet. K is still in the living room.
Me (While searching under couch cushions): K, go upstairs and put on your swimsuit.
H (who is still following me around): Mom, mooom, How can you tell if a frog is a boy or a girl?
Me: H, go get ready for swimming we don't want to be late.
Both girls run upstairs and there is a lot of goofy noises.
T emerges from the basement with missing wallet. I try to remember what I was doing when K starts wailing. I walk to the bottom of the stairs and yell," What's wrong?"
H: She said I was mean.
K (screaming and crying): No I didn't. She wouldn't let me try on her pink swimsuit.
T: (loudly, from the kitchen) LOOORAAA, Do you know where my backpack is?
Me: In the mudroom closet. (dealing with the easiest issue first and then glancing at the clock, realizing we should leave in five minutes). No name calling girls. H wear the pink suit. K your blue and green one. Don't forget to put your pj's away. Let's move!
I try to think of what still needs to go into the swim bag and remember the snacks, which I can't find because I absent-mindedly set them on the bathroom sink while looking for Tom's wallet. The girls reappear, dressed and claiming to have put away their PJs and brushed their hair, but the hair brushing must have been fast because you can't tell. I am still looking for the snacks.

The girls are giggling and meowing, kitty time again. T comes in with backpack for goodbye kisses. I find the snacks and tell the kitties to go get in the car. I'm doing the checklist and realize I don't have clothes for the girls to change into. I start upstairs to grab some dresses and undies when K starts crying. She doesn't like any of the shoes she can find. Before I reach her, Hadley offers to let her wear her shoes. I nix the idea saying too big shoes are not safe. More crying. Hadley asks where the litter box is, I point to the bathroom. Then I tell K to pick some shoes out, she doesn't have to like what she wears. "Stop crying, save it for something that actually hurts," I add. (I know it sounds mean, but this girls cries A LOT.

No wonder I forgot how to focus. I'm out of practice. And my patience, I didn't me to so accurately portray my lack of patience and thoughtfullness, but there you have it. It's true.

Love that Guy

Sometimes T does something completely unrelated to me or to our family that reminds me of his traits that I love. I wish I could say I always remember these traits, but daily life isn't like that. Rewind to last night. A group of teenage boys were roaming our neighborhood shouting profanities. We could hear them with all the windows closed and the air on. T and Cody opened the front door and just watched. The boys were screaming profanity after profanity, cursing our "safe" little neighborhood and the white wealth they perceived to be dwelling here. I should add that as home prices drop and then drop some more and as the last year has brought increased burglaries, my neighbors are on edge. We constantly talk about issues of safety, the houses that are for sale and for how much. New houses keep popping up for sale, probably encouraged by the three that sold earlier this summer (for rock bottom prices). I suspect several of my new friends would move, if they could sell their house for a decent price. Anyway, the boys roamed the block and were coming around a second time. I know the neighbors were hoping one of the two cops who live here would do something, but maybe they were not home.

Cody and I thought T was on the toilet, taking care of the day's business because he was gone a long time. We were being the geeky family that we are and both Cody and I were on our laptops, sitting on the couches. We had paused the movie, waiting for T's return. Eventually the front door opened and in walked T. He had followed those boys, saying, "Hey, I just want to talk with you." They swore at him, threatened to beat him up, made threatening gestures and swore some more. He just kept repeating his desire--let's talk. T's determination scared those 17 or 18-year-olds and they ran away. I'm sure the neighbors sighed with relief as they nervously watched out their windows. I wish the boys had chosen to talk-- I want to hear their story.

Yes, I can see it too, the list of the dangers and the reasons why T should not have followed those boys at night in Ignored, MI. I saw that list at first, but God reminded me, through my husband, of who I want to be. As a follower of Christ, I am so thankful that my husband is different. Not fearful. Full of desire to confront sin, to love sinners, to live where others won't (as if living in this lovely neighborhood is hard--but people think it is).

So my friends, how are you different from the rest of world? If you follow Christ, you should shine like stars in this crooked and depraved generation. T shines in the hope he has, in his lack of fear, in his desire to hear the story of these young people. As sinners, none of us will overcome all our fears here on earth. But each believer has a hope and that hope means that many of the fears of the world do not overcome us (not that we don't think about them). We all have fears, but at least some of the things the world worries about shouldn't worry us. Sure, sometimes we worry and have to repent, but we have a hope that makes us different. I think that our hope becomes visible when fear and worry do not overcome. Last night I asked myself, "Laura, is your hope visible?"

Lemonade stand 2

Inspired by the lemonade boys of a few weeks ago (see post on in June called Lemonade stand --I can put a link here, but how?), H and K wanted to sell lemonade yesterday. It wasn't ideal weather, overcast and a bit rainy, but I let them go with it. It started with Hadley making musical instruments out of jars and beans. She wanted to sell them for $5 because she wants to buy a pet frog to replace the tadpole. We saw some at Meijer on Thursday and she has been consumed ever since. Though I doubt a pet frog will be much of a pet, I've have been surprised by all we learned from Fred Grapey Wells (the new name of the Beta fish). Because, animals are a good learning experience but there are no dogs or cats on the horizon due to allergies, we've decided she can buy herself a pet frog or two--we already have the small aquarium.

Major side note: this morning's conversation

H: Why can't I get a cat when I grow up?

Me: You can, but I won't be able to visit you then.

H: But you'll be too old to drive to my house anyway.)

Back to the point, I told H she couldn't sell jars with beans for $5 because they were not worth that much. After a long discussion about how her instruments were nice, but not worth money, she settled on lemonade. I made the girls go door-to-door and ask for a juicer, we found an antique one at house number four. Then we made a sign, I helped by printing out some graphics to color and with some of the spelling. Next we went to Jack's. I made H buy the lemons (no powdered stuff for this stand!) with her own money. She only brought enough to buy four lemons which only made about 1/2 cup of juice. I ended up donating evaporated cane juice, cups and bottled lemon juice. But we used the juicer we borrowed and made lemonade. We even boiled the sugar in a cup of water to ensure it would be evenly distributed throughout the juice. We put the ingredients together and tasted, added more water and sugar, and then stuck the pitcher in the fridge. We found a "cash box" which was a pink cardboard pencil box, found change, talked about costs and profits, though I don't think H really got it. And then set up.

The girls were shy sellers at first but cute enough that people stopped. Later the neighbor girl Anna stopped by, she was much bolder and led truly inspired chants at all the cars that drove by. Our street is not a super busy one, but generally in the afternoon, a car drives by every 3-4 minutes. Not one man stopped, but several mothers and grandma's did and often people paid more than the $0.25 we charged (if H had actually used all real lemons, purchased her own sugar, and cups, we would have needed to charge at least $0.75). I was unsuccessful in getting a picture of the numerous times one of the girls held up the sign upside down or even on the blank side of the poster board as they screamed at passing cars. All in all, after paying Anna and K their "wages" and subtracting the cost of the lemons, H made $8.00 and had lots of fun in the process. Oh and I failed to mention that K spent the whole day with her leggings inside out and her tag waving as she ran up and down the sidewalk!

Tidbits

The girls were playing hairstylist today. K was doing H's hair and I wasn't watching. K was "curling" H's hair and managed to get this comb really stuck. H was mad. I kept laughing because it was funny. It took me 45 minutes to get all the hair untangled. Cutting was not involved. Cody has been living in our basement for a year. I realized today that I had no pictures of him with the girls, and they all play together quite a bit. Today was unofficial yellow day. H insisted on goofy faces.

Fear conquered. H loves the diving board now. She even jumps off without a life jacket, though not in this picture. K is so terrified of jumping in that she won't take any more swim lessons. Maybe next year.
K does like to swim with her floaties. I took this picture last Friday at a friend's pool. She struck this pose all on her own; I think the floaties make it extra special.
Cody, Laura, and T dressed up as Scarecrow, Batgirl, and Joker for the midnight showing of the new Batman movie. I don't know any babysitters, so I stayed home with the sleepers =(.

I thought they looked scary (except Laura). Pam, you can't see it but Laura used K's cape as an accessory.

An addendum to the frog story, the tadpole croaked (So sorry, but do you get it?LOL). H cried and cried and then cried some more. K did not care. He did grow all four legs for us first. Not sure what went wrong.

Used by God

Quiet moments are rare lately. T, Cody (aka the man who lives in our basement) and Cody's girlfriend ( who moved here last week and will soon be renting the house next door and who shares my name) are all at Batman, dressed as the Joker, the Scarecrow, and Batgirl (not in the movie). Picture posts to come. Anyway it is quiet. I want to write. But I don't have a plan!

I've been telling the girls lately about how special they are. We talk about Bible verses like "you knit me in my mother's womb" and " I know the plans I have for you..." and "Train up a child in the way he should go and when he is older we will not depart from it" and "All things work together for good for those who love God...." H asks lots of good questions like, "Have you trained me in the way I should go?" Answer: "I train you every day, dear, by teaching about God and what He loves."Answer in my head: I try but I know I keep forgetting things. Her question from yesterday is still haunting me, "Mom, has God used you yet?" It troubles me that I had to think so long and hard about it. I wish I could immediately say yes. But I can't. I'd like my own version of It's a Wonderful Life. God keeps bringing to mind Galatians 6:9 "Let us not become weary of doing good for at the proper time we will reap a harvest if we do not give up." Not sure how it relates exactly. So how would you answer H's question, "Has God used you yet?"

Celebration

Once a week we celebrate something. To mark our celebration, we have sugar cereal! Lately it's been Trix, which is gluten-free! Today we celebrated that T will not teach any more night classes until Jauary. We are so excited.

Longer than Needed Story

I'm eating salami slices smothered with cream cheese and rolled up. Yum. Absolutely no nutritional value, but not bad for my blood sugars either. It's late. I should be in bed. It doesn't matter that for the last three nights the girls have gone to bed after 9 pm, they still emerge between 6:45 am and 7:15 am. Clockwork. Each day for kids has too much potential excitement to keep sleeping, though sleep might improve the general mood for the day. Tomorrow they won't go back to bed, they will come into mine. T is out of town and there is nothing as sweet as snuggling in momma's big bed--except that I am still up at 11:30 pm and won't want to open my eyes. K, if she is first will accept this and snuggle down, quiet and content. H, whether first or second will, snuggle next to me, wiggle, touch my eyebrows, twirl my hair, wiggle, then start giggling until I have to open my eyes. She won't want to stay in bed long, she never does, but tomorrow the excitement will be the tadpole.

Loosely inspired by the book Going on a Bear Hunt, I took the girls hunting today. I don't hunt for dangerous animals though, so we went frog hunting. We drove to the park out in *** with the Frisbee golf course. A large man-made pond there is full of frogs in the humidity of July. It wasn't sunny when we arrived so the frogs weren't as easy to see as last year. But they were there. This was our first frog hunt officially. We had an unofficial one last year when we first discovered the frog pond. The difference between an official and unofficial hunt is the equipment. We had a net this year and two shoe boxes which I grabbed in a last minute moment of not-so-brilliant inspiration. I should have searched longer for plastic boxes as cardboard and water are not a good combo. We made about five failed attempts before H nabbed something. I honestly didn't think she could catch those frogs as they are fast in the water. Turns out she didn't nab a frog, but a tadpole, a big tadpole that already had two back legs. Our commotion attracted a kind grandpa-type who then advised us on our hunt for frogs. He reminded me of my father-in-law who I know would have loved our frog hunt today, except that this man was smoking cigarettes and then throwing them in the pond! He said his name was Doc. After another four or five failed frog capturing attempts, Doc offered to help. He caught the frog. It was a beautiful, shiny green color. Oh my what squealing and giggling went on when that frog jumped. Frogs aren't so fast in the grass and once I started holding him, the girls calmed down and actually touched the frog. Eventually, H would carry him around but K never did work up the courage to do more than pet him.

We brought just the tadpole ( and a bunch of pond water )home with us and will return him to the pond when he becomes a frog. I am praying we don't kill him as the ensuing wails will seem endless. H knocked on five neighbors doors this afternoon until she found one home and willing to come look at her captive. She gets so attached to things. I wish I had a way to expose the girls to more nature, to more animals.It's invigorating. And I wish I could meet a nice old man at the park and not have every news story I've ever read about creepy old man criminals pass through my mind. Overall it was a good day. We had fun and did something different. But I am still ready for T to come home. Good night.

Crafty

Crafts and I don't get along. I don't have patience and inevitably goof something up because I am in too much of a hurry or because I don't think through what I am doing. I generally finish a craft and wish I had done it differently. Sometimes though, because crafts can be a less expensive way to give a spec ail gift to that hard-to-buy for person, I try one, usually for my parents. I gave my parents these photo coasters for Mother's day, Father's day and the Fourth of July (I kept having snags and delays--like broken printers and backordered supplies).

I wanted to share them because I know some of you LOVE crafts. And it was so easy, even for me. Intially it wasn't the cheapest but now that I have the supplies, I can make more for very little. There is a product that you can buy called Lazertran Water Slide Decal paper. You have to order it online from art stores as Joanne's, Michaels and Hobby Lobby don't carry it. Then you go to your favorite version of a home improvement store, buy ceramic tiles that you love (or just cut squares of wood), felt for the bottom of the tile and a polyurethane spray. Resize your favorite photos to fit the tiles, print them on the Lazertran paper. Simply put the paper in water, wait about two minutes and the image slides off the paper. Cover your surface with rubbing alcohol and wa-la the image sticks. Let it dry overnighy. Coat with polyurethane to make the coaster waterproof. I used polyurethane paint and it left brush strokes so I'll use the spray next time.

Garden Solutions

Nitrogen. I know its chemical symbol and know it's present in the Earth's atmosphere. Garden books always have whole chapters on soil (not dirt) and how to make sure you have good soil. I didn't read those chapters. I lived for ten years in the heart of Iowa and anything will grow in the dirt (I mean soil, I don't think that state has any dirt) in Iowa. I thought that if dirt was black and had some worms in it, it was probably healthy and could be called soil.

Puzzled by the high failure rate of the many seeds I have planted in my garden this year, I decided to get the soil tested. A neighbor lent me his soil testing kit and my dad did all the little chemistry for me. Here are the results. PH 6.5, maybe a little acidic but not bad, phosophorous: adequate, Potosh: good, Nitrogen: depleted, maybe completely. What causes such a thing? So maybe I have an answer to my gardening woes.....a solution is in the nearest garden store, but I probably need a spreader and I hope it isn't too late.

FYI: there are little peppers and tomatoes on some of my plants!

Parents

Jealousy is a normal reaction for me when someone casually mentions dropping their kids off for an hour, a night, or a weekend with the grandparents. I got a little revenge this weekend. Not really, but the neighbors with the local grandparents were a bit jealous of all that my parents accomplished during their visit.

My parents came Sunday evening and left after dinner today. They played games with the kids, took us out for dinner (twice), made lunch, trimmed my bushes, tested the soil in my garden (more on that later), washed windows, mixed up my gluten-free flours that I use in baking, read stories, played more games, went swimming, took H to a movie while K and I went to the doctor, and just generally supported our parenting and my mothering by helping out. It was hard to say good-bye.

Thanks mom and dad. I love you.

Modesty

If you live in Ignored and read the paper, you may have seen an article yesterday about modesty. In Sacramento, California there is group supported by the Catholic Diocese called Pure Fashion Show. This spring they put on a sold out fashion show of casual and formal wear (there was a waiting list of people hoping to get tickets).

Summer always brings head shaking in our house as we observe what some females wear, sometimes even Christian mothers (not to worry, I don't have anyone in mind). We've worked hard to teach our girls the meaning of modesty since they could speak. They've seen dresses on Dancing with the Stars commercials and said, "Daddy, that dress is not modest." Right. And don't you ever try to wear one. We make them wear shirts under ill-fitting sundresses and bike shorts or leggings under shorter skirts and dresses. I've wonder if my parents knew how lucky they were that when I was in high school, the cool clothes were XL flannel shirts. I hope that fashion returns when my girls hit the teenage years.

In case giant flannel shirts don't return, I love the clothing guidelines of the Pure Fashion Show and want to share them. They allow a girl to look fashionable, but still modest. The swimsuit guideline is nonexistent unfortunately. I think we will adopt these guidelines in our family (yes, for me too). (From the ***0 News, July 2, 2008)
Shorts: Put your arms straight down at your sides. If the bottom of the shorts is higher than the tip of your longest finger, the shorts are too short.
Tops: The neckline should be no lower than four fingers below the collarbone. No spaghetti straps or tops made out of thin material. Straps on tops should be at least two fingers wide.
Dresses and skirts: No shorter than four fingers above the kneecap. Should not be tight-fitting.
Undergarments: Should never be outergarments. No exposed bra straps.

Sisters

Being an only child, I think I am missing some of the basic information about how to raise kids. I don't get it. My girls are fighting, bickering, pushing. Everyday. The widow next door, who raised two girls, tells me to leave them alone, getting in the middle will only make me the bad gal. Most people laugh when I tell them how frustrated I am. It's like they all know this secret about how much fighting is to come and think my frustration at such an early age is amusing. But really, I wouldn't let them treat friends or visitors the way they treat each other. All the scripture that I know teaches us to act opposite of their behavior. Is this time of war really something I am supposed to resign myself to? I don't want to. It's wrong.

I've been praying daily that God would give me wisdom to help them. He hasn't shown me the solution, but he has calmed me down so that for two or three days now I have been more patient, calmer in my reactions to their fights. He has also let me see that K is growing, changing and Hadley is fighting it. They've always had an odd relationship where K does more of the creating of the imaginary games than H. About a year and a half ago H told me this was because K has a better imagination. Now, Kis not being so submissive. While she created the games, Hadley always got the choice part: the princess, the kitten, the mermaid. K doesn't want to settle for second fiddle anymore and she's willing to inflict pain to make her point. Sigh, I am drained from all the refereeing. Holiday weeks can be long. All activities get cancelled and without family in town to replace those activities, I fall short on my adult time.

I know there are at least half a dozen moms who regularly read this blog. These questions are for you (and now I know you read this Sarah!) When your children are mean to each other, what do you do? How many infractions before you separate for them a long time? What's your rule about tattling? Do you take a hands off approach or do you intervene? Do you teach conflict solving techniques, which ones have worked well? What you have to say..I need the advice and the encouragement!

I am going to post an unrelated video now mostly for the amusement of my relatives and distant friends. Hopefully it won't cancel the SOS of the previous paragraphs. The girls usually settle into a time of enjoying each other after dinner (yes it takes eight hours lately to get there). This video is during a pretend musical. H has heard of High School Musical but has not seen it. She knows it involves singing. This video was part of their version. I don't think I will pursue their auditions for America's Got Talent!

Yo-yo

I took the girls to the dentist today. On the way home, K tells me the dentist gave her a yo-yo. That's oddd, I thought, H didn't get a yo-yo. But I shrugged it off. Another toy to referee. As we were getting out of the car, I saw the yo-yo in the backseat: a little metal disc with the floss all pulled out!