I am in charge of an awards luncheon today for PTA. We have 10 schools honoring 50 people. I have felt a crushing pressure all week about this. I just want it over.
I am awarding three high school seniors each a $500 scholarship. Oh, their parents are also coming.
The plaques are done, but we had to have four corrected yesterday as they engraved the wrong school name on them.
The caterer is confirmed, though he gave my secretary a bit of heart burn when she called him this last time. You can't change the prices on me a week before we throw this shin-dig.
I made 10 quarts of raspberry syrup to drizzle on cheesecakes for the dessert. That will be way too much, but I was nervous and worried I'd short change someone. I make too much when I am nervous.
I am bringing 10 twelve-slice cheesecakes from my freezer to serve under that saucy bit. I am thrilled I didn't have to make those, or I'd have 42 of them.
I'm stopping to get balloons for part of our decor. I feel the pressure; do I get two bouquets of 5 each of just 3 sets of 3?
I put together 11 thank you gift packages for my local PTA presidents so I can give those to them in front of the group today. They are homemade photo note cards, so there is a personal level of expectation that makes me nervous.
Oh, and did I mention that I am the MC for this gig and will speaking in front of all these people today? That is actually the least of my worries.
Friday, April 2, 2010
Thursday, April 1, 2010
Moment of Realization
As I got out of bed this morning, my knees creaked.
While heading down the stairs my hips ached.
Stepping into my shoes, my ankles cracked.
Backing out of the garage, my neck stiffened.
If I cut my skin open with a knife, all the parts would fall out, broken. This cannot be a good sign. Getting old is not appealing, but aging seems inevitable. Too bad no one told my body I'd need it a little longer.
Wednesday, March 31, 2010
On Rounds
Just wanted to leave an update on every one's health. Apparently, and I am knocking on wood as I say this, apparently, we are all going to be well enough to go after all.
The Girl's fingers are healing very well and the almost sore throat has not been mentioned again since Sunday.
The Boy didn't even sniff this morning before he left for school.
And I am sure my issue was allergy related. We have a storm that has blown in for today and it stirred up a lot of dust and junk in the air. I am pretty sure that is what my problem has been. Today I am just depressed that it is starting to snow, again.
I need this short vacation more than I realized. That, and spring must trump winter and soon!
The Girl's fingers are healing very well and the almost sore throat has not been mentioned again since Sunday.
The Boy didn't even sniff this morning before he left for school.
And I am sure my issue was allergy related. We have a storm that has blown in for today and it stirred up a lot of dust and junk in the air. I am pretty sure that is what my problem has been. Today I am just depressed that it is starting to snow, again.
I need this short vacation more than I realized. That, and spring must trump winter and soon!
Tuesday, March 30, 2010
Plans Are Made to Be Foiled
The kids have spring break next week. We are planning on taking off--but it is still a surprise to the kids. Well, just to The Girl. The Boy cut a deal and for his payoff he wanted to be told where we were going. But they aren't supposed to know where we are going.
Sunday, The Girl stayed home from church with a scratchy throat. Strep is going around the schools at the moment, and I was afraid that is what she'd end up with, just before the break, or course.
Yesterday, in what I hope was an allergic response, I was sneezing and blowing my nose and wiping my eyes all day long. This weekend get-away is primarily a change of scenery for me. I need to get out of town for a little while.
And this morning, The Boy was sniffing a lot and, like many 12 year old boys will do, refused to blow his nose. I hope he isn't coming down with something too.
Maybe none of these tiny ailments would have settled in here had I not made plans to run away for Spring break. We could have all spent Easter weekend in bed, recuperating. Where is the fun in that?!
Sunday, The Girl stayed home from church with a scratchy throat. Strep is going around the schools at the moment, and I was afraid that is what she'd end up with, just before the break, or course.
Yesterday, in what I hope was an allergic response, I was sneezing and blowing my nose and wiping my eyes all day long. This weekend get-away is primarily a change of scenery for me. I need to get out of town for a little while.
And this morning, The Boy was sniffing a lot and, like many 12 year old boys will do, refused to blow his nose. I hope he isn't coming down with something too.
Maybe none of these tiny ailments would have settled in here had I not made plans to run away for Spring break. We could have all spent Easter weekend in bed, recuperating. Where is the fun in that?!
Monday, March 29, 2010
Accidents, After Hours, & a Story to Write Home About
WARNING: Do not scroll down to the blog posting below if you are eating breakfast, or having lunch or preparing dinner. I'm just saying...
Friday night was pretty exciting around here. I had dropped off The Girl at the elementary school where she is helping with their performance of Annie Jr. this upcoming week and I just dropped The Boy at the church for his Scout camp out. I had at least two hours with no responsibility or people who needed me.
I didn't have a plan so I went home and sat down to read or veg out in front of the TV. Just after five o'clock Dear Friend Sherry calls from the school.
"Hellloooo??"
"You'd better come get your girl. Her fingers just got slammed in the storage room door and I'm afraid she might loose her nails, or have nerve damage or something. I haven't ever seen her cry before, so I know this is serious. Oh, and bring a bucket of ice."
I immediately called the doctor's office, who--of course--closed at 5PM sharp. The after hours office listened as I told them what happened, and they said to bring her right in.
I grabbed a bucket and filled it with ice and ran to the school. In front of the school, walking along the sidewalk across the street, there were two little missionaries. Convenient, I thought to myself.
As I pulled up to the front door, I saw her sitting next to Sherry with her hand in a bowl of ice water. It was her right hand--her writing, drawing, painting hand.
I ran back outside and called ot the two missionaries, "Elders, will you come right now and give my daughter a blessing?"
They immediately stopped and looked at each other.
"She's just inside the school; she's just had her fingers smashed and I am taking her to the doctor's office, but it is her writing hand and we are worried there might be nerve damage."
By then, they were walking quickly behind me. One is wearing a Japanese-American pin on his suit coat...and is obviously a native Japanese elder. Poor guy--probably isn't even sure what I am asking, but he was coming along willingly.
I lead these two in behind me and ask The Girl is she is feeling light-headed, as she looked like she might pass out. I told her the elders were here to give her a blessing before I took her to the doctor's office.
"OK," she said quietly through some tears.
The skin from her knuckles to her cuticles looked like it had been sliced and curled back by a potato peeler. They were all three bleeding pretty well and the spot where the door edge smashed the fingers was deeply marked on her fingers. Her whole hand was swelling and turning purple.
Nearly the entire cast of the play, several small groups of Space Center kids, and the after school sweepers were all filling the main hall of the school. I asked The Girl if she could move into the cubby where the library door is recessed from the hallway.
The elders were quickly reviewing what they needed to do--especially in another language for the Japanese elder. He anointed her with oil and said the prayer...as well as he could in English. Then the other elder gave her a blessing that was so humble and so tender. I couldn't hear all of it due to the commotion in the hallway, but I did hear him tell her a few times how Heavenly Father loves her and she is of great value to Him.
When he was finished, Sherry helped The Girl to the car as gently as possible. I thanked the missionaries for being prepared at literally the drop of a hat, and for being worthy to offer her a blessing. They were still so humble and genuine. They sincerely wished her well and sent us on our way.
At the doctor's office, we got in to see him and he gently cut off the curled up skin at her cuticles and prescribed a burn ointment that will help the skin to regrow. It will take several weeks to be fully repaired, but she should be able to use them immediately. No nerve damage, no broken bones, but the nails may still fall off. We won't know that until they do yet. Thank heavens it wasn't any worse. And maybe, the cast of the play will learn the lesson that fooling around can hurt other people. It is a hard lesson to learn at The girl's expense.
This photo was taken the next morning, after 12 hours of the burn ointment treatment. She is already doing better today, and it isn't even bothering her.
Friday night was pretty exciting around here. I had dropped off The Girl at the elementary school where she is helping with their performance of Annie Jr. this upcoming week and I just dropped The Boy at the church for his Scout camp out. I had at least two hours with no responsibility or people who needed me.
I didn't have a plan so I went home and sat down to read or veg out in front of the TV. Just after five o'clock Dear Friend Sherry calls from the school.
"Hellloooo??"
"You'd better come get your girl. Her fingers just got slammed in the storage room door and I'm afraid she might loose her nails, or have nerve damage or something. I haven't ever seen her cry before, so I know this is serious. Oh, and bring a bucket of ice."
I immediately called the doctor's office, who--of course--closed at 5PM sharp. The after hours office listened as I told them what happened, and they said to bring her right in.
I grabbed a bucket and filled it with ice and ran to the school. In front of the school, walking along the sidewalk across the street, there were two little missionaries. Convenient, I thought to myself.
As I pulled up to the front door, I saw her sitting next to Sherry with her hand in a bowl of ice water. It was her right hand--her writing, drawing, painting hand.
I ran back outside and called ot the two missionaries, "Elders, will you come right now and give my daughter a blessing?"
They immediately stopped and looked at each other.
"She's just inside the school; she's just had her fingers smashed and I am taking her to the doctor's office, but it is her writing hand and we are worried there might be nerve damage."
By then, they were walking quickly behind me. One is wearing a Japanese-American pin on his suit coat...and is obviously a native Japanese elder. Poor guy--probably isn't even sure what I am asking, but he was coming along willingly.
I lead these two in behind me and ask The Girl is she is feeling light-headed, as she looked like she might pass out. I told her the elders were here to give her a blessing before I took her to the doctor's office.
"OK," she said quietly through some tears.
The skin from her knuckles to her cuticles looked like it had been sliced and curled back by a potato peeler. They were all three bleeding pretty well and the spot where the door edge smashed the fingers was deeply marked on her fingers. Her whole hand was swelling and turning purple.
Nearly the entire cast of the play, several small groups of Space Center kids, and the after school sweepers were all filling the main hall of the school. I asked The Girl if she could move into the cubby where the library door is recessed from the hallway.
The elders were quickly reviewing what they needed to do--especially in another language for the Japanese elder. He anointed her with oil and said the prayer...as well as he could in English. Then the other elder gave her a blessing that was so humble and so tender. I couldn't hear all of it due to the commotion in the hallway, but I did hear him tell her a few times how Heavenly Father loves her and she is of great value to Him.
When he was finished, Sherry helped The Girl to the car as gently as possible. I thanked the missionaries for being prepared at literally the drop of a hat, and for being worthy to offer her a blessing. They were still so humble and genuine. They sincerely wished her well and sent us on our way.
At the doctor's office, we got in to see him and he gently cut off the curled up skin at her cuticles and prescribed a burn ointment that will help the skin to regrow. It will take several weeks to be fully repaired, but she should be able to use them immediately. No nerve damage, no broken bones, but the nails may still fall off. We won't know that until they do yet. Thank heavens it wasn't any worse. And maybe, the cast of the play will learn the lesson that fooling around can hurt other people. It is a hard lesson to learn at The girl's expense.
This photo was taken the next morning, after 12 hours of the burn ointment treatment. She is already doing better today, and it isn't even bothering her.
Sunday, March 28, 2010
Sunday Video
I was able to attend the Young Women General Broadcast in person in the Conference Center last night with girls from our stake. I drove up with Dear Friend Debbie and four other young women. Following the fantastic meeting, we realized quickly we were stuck on the 6th level of the parking garage for 45 minutes to an hour, easy. So instead of hurrying and trying to get on line to wait, we had a spontaneous dance party--entertaining the "hurry up and wait" cars. Many of those were taking video and photos, so watch out in case we made it to You Tube. We had a ball, and before we were done--and able to get into the exit line--we had several new friends who came to join us for a little dancing. We make our own fun! You should be dancing!
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