What Kind of Skin Do You Have?

Our last two children require vastly different parenting than our first five. It's somewhat ironic that in our "older" parenting years, Gid and Eli are the craziest and most physical of our seven children. They absolutely require lots of rough and tumble action from their caregivers -- something that is very difficult for me. Even when I'm not tired (ha ha!) I have always had very sensitive skin. Ren will lightly pat me and be surprised when I say, "Ow!" So, I have to leave the wrestling to Ren or Hannah, who is an amazing wrestler it turns out.

A few weeks ago, Ren started the "punching" game with the boys. He would pretend to punch them and they thoroughly enjoyed punching him, of course, and everyone had a great time. Until...Eli punched me. He was somewhat offended when I looked at him in dismay and crankily said, "Ouch!"

"Dad let's me punch him, Mom." he told me matter-of-factly.

"Well Eli, it hurts my skin when you punch me."

"Oh," he said in a crestfallen tone, clearly indicating that I was NOT as fun as Dad, at least when it came to the punching game.

Fast forward a few days and Eli asks me out of the blue (or so I thought), "Mom, what kind of skin do you have?" Huh?

I responded, "What kinds of skin are there?"

"Well, Dad and I have punching skin, what kind of skin do you have?"

Aaah. As understanding dawns on me I tell him, "I have sensitive skin."

"Hmmm. Sensitive skin," he says as he turns the idea over in his mind. "Why do you have sensitive skin mom?" Now that is the question, isn't it.

I don't know why I have the wrong kind of skin, but it is an interesting realization to make in our family. It helps me understand Zach a little better anyway. After wrestling with Gid for a while, he came to me a few days after this conversation and said, "Mom, I just can't handle Gid, he is too physical!"

"Aha!" I said, "You don't have punching skin!"

"What?!" he asked, clearly looking at me like I was losing it.

I explained it all to him, pointing out that Gid and Eli and Dad and even Hannah have punching skin, but we have sensitive skin that doesn't like to be touched. Amazing how many other things that explains! It turns out he and I are the only ones who don't have punching skin. And while that's unfortunate for him, it's nice to have someone who understands me. Even more important, it's a good thing to have plenty of other people around to wrestle with those crazy littles, because those of us who are more sensitive just can't handle it for very long.

So I ask the question: What kind of skin do you have?

Baby No More!

A month ago, we were at Target and Gideon wanted me to buy him a transformer. I told him that he would get one for his birthday...in a month. So what do you think I've heard several times a week for the last month? "Is it my birfday mom?" "Mom, is it my birfday yet?" "Mooooom! I want my transformer, is it my birfday now?" You can imagine that when we told Gid on Thursday night that his birthday was "tomorrow" he was more than a little excited! He told Ren, "You surprise me!" Ren said, "Now?" And Gid said, a little exasperated, "No! Tomorrow, on my birfday!"

So, Friday morning, we heard him stirring and we snuck around the corner to "surprise" him...when we saw that he had hobbled down the hall to the bathroom, with his jammies around his ankles and a pull-up oozing with diarrhea hanging off his bum. Poor Gid. He must have gone in the night and it was crusted all over his legs and bum. He HATES showering, so it was sad that the first thing he got to do on his birthday was stand in the shower, sobbing, while Ren cleaned him up.

When he was dressed, we had Gid's "surprise" take two: we gathered a few of the kids together, snuck up on him and yelled, "Surprise! It's your birthday!" He loved it! We let him open a few presents in the morning from Jonah and Curtis (a panda puppet and a small transformer) and he was very happy to finally get to experience the joy of his birthday! Then when the Big kids came home from school we had a family party with cake and presents and a treasure hunt for his new train table. He was thrilled to sit in front of his cake and go through the birthday rituals of listening to us sing and blowing out the candles. He kept saying, "It's my birfday!" and his eyes would shine as he looked at me. With all the times that I forget to follow through on things that I promise, having his birthday actually come, after I promised him it would for a month, seemed to give him confidence that Mom wasn't just making things up!

The treasure hunt, designed by Jonah, Cody and Curtis and complete with map (created by Jonah) led him through three levels where he had to fight "bosses" with his light saber. (Kind of Dora the Explorer meets SuperMario) First he had to go past the spider web on the front porch, where he had to fight Curty the Black Widow.

After vanquishing Curtis, it was on to the bouncy trampoline where he met Jonah the Jedi. He hopped on and beat Jonah as well, then followed the map around the corner and through Bucket Valley (the boys had thoughtfully taken out a pile of 20 or so sand buckets and spread them across the back walk).

There he met Codo Baggins and his sword, which was easily bested by Gid's lightning fast light saber. Finally, he headed down to the creepy basement, where he confronted all three level bosses and downing them all, he got to unveil his train table. He loved it!

Now it hits me that after 17 years, I no longer have a baby. I'm really pretty happy about that. I love this crazy, three year-old and his zest for life. He's loud, physical, comical, sweet and adored by eight people older than he is who are happy that he brings out the little kid in us all. Happy Birthday Gideon!

Not Quite Senior Pictures...

Well, she's not quite a senior, but I had the BEST photo shoot with my daughter Hannah last week. We were vacationing at the Grand Canyon and our hotel room backed on the forest right where the train tracks came through. It was just begging to be photographed and luckily I had a willing subject! What is it about train tracks and late afternoon sun that just come together to make a magical moment? Add to that a funny, beautiful, teenage girl full of personality and you get the reason why I love to take pictures. Maybe if I keep practicing I might really be able to do her senior pictures when the time comes. For now I'll just share these...

Of course, we had to have a few crazy ones, just to keep the world balanced. Hannah can't be serious for long without exploding! (Or maybe that's me who can't...)

We also had a few visitors who saw us playing on the train tracks and just had to join us...

First Gideon...

Then Curtis and Eli...

And finally the crazy man who had to walk the rails! :D

I know it's silly, but this little spot in the world captured my imagination in a way that the Grand Canyon just couldn't. Wonder of the world or not, it just couldn't compete with capturing these moments with my adorable family.

Lip Action

It's been a bad year for Byers lips. If you remember, back in the spring I had surgery on my lip and looked like Frankenstein for a while. Well, I have trained my children so well, that they are working hard to follow my example. The highest achievers in the lip category have gone to heroic measures to emulate my Frankenstein look, so I thought I'd share their accomplishments.

A couple of weeks ago, after suffering two previous bike crashes out on the mountain trails with his Dad, Zach crashed on his bike during a harrowing ride...to school. (Sorry Zach, it's just so ironic that your worst crash was on the sidewalk.) He called me at 6:30 a.m. to tell me that he'd crashed and broken his tooth. Poor Zach! Here's what he looked like when I found him...

Skinned and swollen lip, bleeding chin and lovely broken tooth.

And here's a creepy one of him (below) He's all ready for Halloween!

Not to be outdone by his brother, Eli was riding his bike two days ago, slipped on a patch of sand and smashed his lip too. It was hard to get the right angle on him, his is really sticking out like a Who from Who-ville.

I am sure that Cody would feel slighted if I didn't resurrect the pictures of him when he had surgery to remove an extra tooth in the front of his mouth. He had the best swollen lip of anybody! Unfortunately, he is disqualified from the best lip contest because his fat lip entry was from several years ago and we don't want to compete with him!

Well readers, you can decide who wins the contest. Vote and let your voice be heard. As for the Byers family, listen up! I think we've had enough Lip Action for one year -- so I'd like to announce that this contest is closed.

Signs?!

While driving through the Del Taco drive-through today with the boys in the car, Eli (the 4 year-old) pointed out a new and important sign for mothers of boys everywhere.

He said, "Look Mom! There's a sign that says DON'T PEE ON THE SIDEWALK!"

As I hushed the uproarious laughter issuing forth from the other boys, I asked him, "Where is it, Eli?"

"Right there! The one with the red circle and the line through it."

I looked over at the drive-through window and saw this:

(just in case you can't see it, it is a no-smoking sign)

And speaking of signs...on this, the first official day of autumn, I just thought I'd mention that there are NO signs of fall coming here in Arizona. This is a bad thing for me because I am sick, sick, SICK of wearing shorts. All the stores have jeans, sweaters, long sleeve shirts and cute little sweat outfits on display, some of which I have purchased but cannot wear! So, I came up with a solution the other day. I announced to the family that I would be cranking the air conditioning waaaaaaaay down and wearing my new cute sweats. I also served hot soup and homemade bread. Take that Arizona!

Poor, poor blog

I hate these kind of posts. The whiney, this-is-why-I-haven't-posted ones that are supposed to make up for the fact, but seem to highlight it's pathetic-ness instead. Oh well. For some reason I feel obligated to explain myself to a small, cyber community, of like 12 people, why I can't come up with a post.

Well, it started with that stupid bug in the eye. (Not the bug again -- sheesh!) But everything since then has been affected by it and now I'm drowning in laundry, messes, plans for homeschool that I didn't quite pull off, reading many books for and getting ready to teach a homeschool co-op class on the American Revolution and principles of liberty that will be held each week in my basement (which has also suffered from my one-armedness.) Dang, I'm still ticked off at that bug and yes, my arm still hurts. I guess I managed to thrash my upper arm and shoulder pretty good, because I'm still in a lot of pain and it is so frustrating to be trying to get things done and not be able to do them!!!!!!!

Okay, enough. Sorry. I just wanted to check in for what it's worth. My funny circuits are turned off right now and I hate boring (or worse, depressing) posts, but that's all I've got. Maybe I'll find some pictures I haven't posted, just for fun and a sense of random adventures. Pick your own captions.

I can't believe it! I forgot to announce to the world that my baby is no longer in a crib! Seventeen years of having cribs in my home (for a while, two of them) and we are now crib-free! Woo hoo! I guess that was worth mentioning. We're waiting for Eli to get old enough to sleep in a top bunk, so for now, Gid is actually happy to sleep on a pad on the floor and Eli is in the bed. This was after we tried the two of them in the bed and they rolled all over each other, waking us up many times that first night. Not good! So, a major milestone did happen this summer and here are a few pictures.

Gid helping me take down the crib

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Gid the monkey

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The room in it's non-natural clean state

One more mention: Gid is 98% potty trained too. We have been diaper free for a few weeks now, except for at night. He's great at going when he's naked, not so much when he has clothes on. Why is that? Peeing for skittles has become his favorite past-time and I've had to learn how to explain to the 4 year-old and sometimes the 8 year-old why they don't get skittles for going potty.

I guess it's an epic year. My little baby is no longer a baby and my biggest baby will graduate in the spring. Wow, life is changing.

Blame it on the Bug

Lately I've been feeling all pleased with myself for having gained so much wisdom by my 40th birthday. Don't mock me, it happens sometimes. But now I know that wisdom will leave you in a crumpled heap on the sidewalk if you lack the knowledge and ability to reason when faced with a bug in your eye at the wrong moment...

EARLY yesterday morning found me cruising around our beautiful planned community on my brand new, birthday bike. It was a perfect summer morning, by any state's standards and I was riding through the green belt paths and around the lakes at top speed, soaking up every breezy, bird song-filled, solitary moment. It was idyllic. It was heaven. I was even composing a blog post in my head, repenting of my hatred of Arizona and realizing that after two years I was starting to form a strange attachment to this place aptly named "The Valley of the Sun."

I was on my last turn around the lake and planning to head for home when (sound effect)... a bug flew in my eye. My eye stung and watered and I went into reaction mode. With no thought for the fact that I was cruising in my highest gear at a pretty good velocity I reached up to get the bug out with my right hand and squeezed my left brake with some force. It seemed that there was a moment where I thought, "No! I didn't just do that!" before my extremely effective front brake locked the front wheel and I flew over the handlebars. I can still see the sidewalk coming up fast and my right arm stretched out straight in front of me to "brace" my fall (hah!) That unforgiving slab of concrete first pounded the palm of my hand, sending shocks of pain up through my elbow and shoulder, then crashed into my right cheek. To complete the experience, in the next instant my bike flipped over and landed on top of me.

I was mad. Having no swear words at my disposal I yelled, "Dangit!" to the heavens and breathed in disgust at myself. I had ruined my perfect ride and now I was going to hurt. I hate pain as a general rule and I was sure this pain was going to be pretty spectacular. It was during these musings that I realized that stupid bug was still in my eye! Before I could extricate myself from underneath the bike of death, I had to find a limb that worked and get the stupid insect carcass off of my eyeball. I dug around for a minute or so, got the evil thing out and then slowly, tenderly got up and tested each part of my body to see what worked and what was starting to protest about my callous treatment.

My right arm was in bad shape. My wrist and palm were throbbing and I couldn't lift my arm at the shoulder without extreme pain. But I didn't want to prolong the agony by walking home, so I got on and rode the two blocks back to my house with my right arm cradled into my stomach and my left hand on the brake. I realize now how lucky I am that I didn't go over the handlebars again by having only the front brake at my disposal!

By the time I got home I was crying. I walked in on Hannah eating breakfast and through my sobs told her what happened, freaking her out, I'm sure. Gid seeing me in a state of distress, came over and said, "I sorry mommy," and kissed my leg. If only healing could be achieved by the kisses of innocent babes... My only thought (irrational as it was) was to get showered before the real pain set in, because I STUNK and I didn't want to go through the ordeal ahead feeling all stinky and sweaty. It was a tricky and painful process, but I managed the cleansing and the dressing before the real pain set in. I had to call my good friend Tracie for a ride to urgent care (Thanks Tracie!) because Ren was also on a bike ride, up in the mountains. Ironically, I had decided to stay in the neighborhood rather than go with him, partially because I thought his ride might be a bit dangerous. Nice.

So to finish off this tale of woe and sadness, I spent some time getting x-rayed in urgent care, spent some time getting a CAT scan at the ER and was eventually sent home with my sprained wrist in a brace, my sprained arm in a sling, instructions on how to treat a mild concussion in my hands and my bruised pride pounding in my breast. My family babied me the rest of the day and I got so many kind words from friends on Facebook, I felt very loved if not a little awkward about all the attention. (Not all the attention was on me though, my brother-in-law Jared did express concern for the bug.)

I woke up today thinking that this whole situation might look a little suspicious. To my shock and surprise, I have no impressive cuts, scrapes or bruises, even on my cheekbone, to prove my story. (Though, I do have a doozy on my lower cheek that Ren could vouch for!) There were no broken bones and no witnesses. Some might even question the veracity of my story. Well, maybe I have just discovered a great way to get a break from life for a day or two. (evil laugh...mwa ha ha ha!) Would anyone really blame me? In the end, it is the fact that I awoke feeling like I lost a fight with a slab of concrete and a heap of metal which keeps my conscience clear and my family hopping for at least another day.