A Little of This, A Lot of That

This week, after being inspired by Lisa, I joined the 5 AM Club. Except, it's the 6 AM Club here. I won't lie and say it's been life changing, but I am trusting that will come with faithfulness. It has been good. It's necessary. My family feels like it's under attack right now, and I need the armor. And the patience. And the time to do laundry. It's also making me really tired about 5 PM each afternoon.

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The Man is out of town for the weekend. I can't express how much I dislike it when The Man goes out of town. My patience cup has sprung a leak lately, and now it's dry as a bone. I miss him. He's the other half of this ragtag parenting team, and I don't work well without him.

I have been consoling myself by watching much of the first season of Battlestar Galactica on DVD, while successfully ignoring the heckling from my teenager.

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Clara went to her 18 month appointment last week. Despite some deliciously cherubic evidence to the contrary, she's measuring tall and thin. She impressed the doctor with her speech and charming personality.

No that wasn't sarcasm.

The doctor was not impressed, however, with her knee walking, even after I pointed out what a hit it was at parties. And although I argued strongly - and surprisingly - that it wasn't necessary, Clara now has an appointment for a neurological evaluation next week. And maybe an orthopedic evaluation after that. That one I think may be necessary. If someone was asking me.

And somehow this bulldozing by the doctor to get her evaluated has brought a whisper of worry into my consciousness, where none was before.

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Yesterday, I went for a test called a sonohystogram. It's like an ultrasound you have in your first trimester, but without the excitement of looking for a heartbeat. And it also involved some other steps which I will spare you. But suffice to say it was lovely in the way that only having your feet up in stirrups can be. Anyway, they found a polyp. A small polyp. And I guess they will have to remove it or something. We are going to discuss that on Monday.

This discovery makes me genuinely happy. It is exactly the outcome I had been praying for. I had this test because of some troublesome "womanly" problems I had been having. I'll spare you the details on those as well. Because I am nice like that. But finding a problem, means finding a solution, which should make things better for me.

It also makes me think of Clara' situation in a slightly different light. Because if she does have an issue preventing her from walking, than maybe finding that out would be a blessing as well. Because we could address it, and her quality of life would improve.

Or maybe she's just impossibly stubborn and likes walking on her knees. Which I still think is a strong possibility.

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Ben is finally potty trained. Yes, he is almost four three-and-a-half. And don't ask me for advice, because nothing I did seemed to make a bit of difference. He did it, on his own, when he was ready. Which was something I knew but forgot when I, once again, found myself caught up in the world of kid comparisons. You would think I would know better by now.

If you really want advice, that's it: they'll do it when they are ready, and in the grand scheme of things it makes no difference if they do it at 2-and-a-half or 3-and-a-half or 5. So go worry about something else.

But now I am down to one in diapers. Hallelujah.

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Brandon is grounded. Possibly for eternity. And the most disturbing part is that he no longer seems to care. I don't know what to do with that. But it scares me. More than defiance, or sulking. So pray for him, will ya? I'm counting on God to pick up the reigns on this one. Because I'm out.

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Lastly, blogging is barely on my radar right now, as apparent by my measly one post a week. So please forgive my semi-absent status, or rejoice in it.

Either way works for me.