A Jen Too Many

One hour waiting to see the doctor.

Five minutes (maybe less) spent talking with the doctor.

And yet, I left the doctor's office completely happy because she confirmed that Oldest Girl Child wasn't going to die within the next 24 hours, or lose her foot, or any part of her foot. She wasn't bitten by a venomous snake, she wasn't bitten by a venomous spider, there was no poison coursing through her sturdy little system, and All Was Going To Be Okay.

(Oh, hush. I'm a mother. I'm entitled to panic when my child is mysteriously injured - as long as I don't let the child in question know what kind of wild disasters I'm imagining.)

It all started a little before noon yesterday, when OGC ran home from the friend's house where she was playing, hysterically sobbing. She'd stepped on something. Her toe hurt. The world was coming to an end.*

I looked at her toe and couldn't see anything, so I reassured her that it would feel better soon and gave her a placebic bandage. (An adhesive bandage can fix anything, especially if there is a Disney princess on it. Or Barbie. Dora is also good and so are rainbows and butterflies. Just not as good as princesses.)

She ran off back to her friends, but not before complaining that her toe was starting to feel strange. I dismissed her comments as hyperbole. Bad idea. For once, it wasn't exaggeration.

She was back a few minutes later, even more upset and hysterical. Her foot was swelling up, the swelling spreading noticeably from the area around her toe. We tried to comfort her, we tried to get more details about what had happened, and about five minutes after she got home her father suggested Benadryl.

The swelling had spread another half inch in that five minutes, but after taking the Benadryl, slowed dramatically. I called the pediatrician and got an appointment for 3:00, then waited, suppressing my alarm and impatience in the interests of keeping my little daughter from freaking out even more. Her alarm faded rather rapidly, actually, and before long she was expressing her acute disappointment at having such a cruel and heartless mother, who wouldn't let her go back to play with her friends while her foot was swollen.

When we finally got in to see the doctor (whose waiting room was the most packed I've ever seen - she really did not need another patient that day!) she confirmed that there was no broken skin. It wasn't a spider bite (I wasn't seriously concerned about a snake bite, not between her two toes - c'mon, I have some common sense), although it might be some kind of sting. It was probably an allergic reaction, but she wanted us back the next day to make sure it wasn't some kind of fast growing infection. She reassured me that since it was only a local reaction we weren't likely to have to cope with an anaphylactic reaction the next time she ran into whatever had caused this, gave OGC a mini-lecture about not running around barefoot, told me to give her Benadryl every eight hours, and sent us off much cheered.

Her foot is still swollen today, so we are watching movies (The Swan Princess: Escape From Castle Mountain is currently on its third airing today) until it is time to go back to the doctor's office. Hopefully she'll be back on her feet soon. I can't take much more of that blasted swan.
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*Why, yes, she was wearing shoes when she left the house. No, she wasn't when she came running back. Yes, we have discussed this matter. In fact, she brought it up, sobbing out, "I'm never going to take my shoes off again!"

This is my mother-in-law's class photo, probably taken around 1944. She's the little girl in the front row with the black pinafore. She grew up to be a strikingly beautiful woman, as you can see in this prom photo from 1952 or '53. She's the dark-haired girl in the middle of the picture.

To see other vintage photos check out Paper Dolls for Boys.

Absolutely my favorite photo that I have ever taken. I just wish I'd had a better camera back then. This is pretty low resolution. We were living further south at that time, and this was an unusual January snowfall. It shut down the city, which amused this Idaho girl no end. It was the first time I ever got to see Oldest Girl Child play in the snow. I dragged her in kicking and screaming when she started to turn blue around the edges.

The tree had so many blossoms you could barely see the branches.

I'm sure each of these colors represents a different strength of line, but I just liked the way the colors worked together. We were on a ferry and this boat was behind the car next to us.

If you look carefully at this photo, you'll see a second rainbow over the first one. We were at a family reunion when someone called to come see the rainbow, so several of us ran out onto the front porch to see this. It's the only time I've ever seen a double rainbow, although I'd heard of them. (Note that the colors are reversed on the second rainbow.) This was two full rainbows, too. I wish I could have caught the full glory, but I figure I was lucky to get even this much. None of my other attempts show the second rainbow this clearly (or at all.)

I like having photos on my blog. Posts without pictures just seem kind of boring. Pictures are so much more fun! So I thought I'd spend the next week posting some of my old pictures. I'm blank anyway, lately. I can't write at all, so I'll let pictures speak for me.

Here's today's photo. I took it a few years ago when we were visiting the beach.

I got this photo from a family member. I believe she has the original. According to her these people are (from left to right):

George Washington Boylan, Lou McKinnis, Winson Elson Boylan, Lide Boylan, Della Boylan Green, Della's son (name unknown), and then some guy with no head. And the little girl in the front with her dad's hand on her shoulder? That would be my grandmother!

I have no idea who Lou McKinnis is. Relative? Friend? Annoying neighbor who wouldn't get out of the picture?

I have a question about my grandmother, though. Is she blonde in that photo, or is that just the way the black and white photo made it look? Because I always remember her as having brown hair. Even in her 80's. Which might be my answer, right there...

To see other vintage photos check out Paper Dolls for Boys.

If you are going to be spending much time in a car with small children this summer (and even if you're not planning on a big trip, let's face it, summertime + children = lots of car time) you might be interested in knowing that Robert Munsch (yes that Munsch) offers free mp3s of some of his books at his website. We listened to them last summer as we ran around town, and I plan on plugging them into the sound system again this summer. I have high hopes that giggling will prevent screams of, "She's touching me!!!!! She's on my side of the seat!!!!! She looked at me!!!!!" Which means I may not have to kill anyone - always a good thing.

This photo isn't very clear, I know, but you should see the original. Meet Emanuel Lupkin, age 5. I scanned this photo from a crumbling 94 year old newspaper, where his picture was printed in the Children's Page section of The Commercial Appeal newspaper, on June 6, 1915.

This picture was, obviously, taken before his sister took scissors to his hair and cut off all those curls. According to the family folklore, his mother (Anna Polewoda Lupkin) cried and cried over the loss. She saved the curls in a little box which we still have, tucked in with all the old family memorabilia. (They are a gorgeous color - a rich brownish-blond with just enough red to intensify the color, but not enough that you're consciously aware it's there.)

We have the two sheet section of the newspaper his picture was in, but it was folded several times. Now, anytime anyone touches it, little bits flake off the edges. My sweetheart is talking about getting it laminated, but I'm scared to do that, for fear of it getting damaged even more. At the moment we have it carefully wrapped up in foil to keep it away from any friction.

We have an absolute ton of old newspaper clippings - obituaries, wedding announcements, photos - my husband's family was very big on that kind of memorabilia. This is the oldest one we have, and the one in the worst shape, but the others are heading down that road, too. You can see why I'm so anxious to get them scanned and saved in several different places. My goal is to eventually be in a position where, even if there was some sort of disaster and we lost everything, we would still be able to have all our family photos and papers saved somewhere online.

To see other vintage photos check out Paper Dolls for Boys.

This is day 3 of my 80 day sentence. So far it's been much worse than I ever dreamed. I think I might have a case for cruel and unusual punishment. If I take it to court, do you think I can persuade the judge to put me in solitary confinement?

The quibbling and nitpicking started soon after everyone rolled out of bed Monday morning. It hasn't let up for more than a few minutes since then. Nothing has worked to quell the disturbances, and I fear we are working up to a riot. If not from the Oldest and Youngest Girl Children, then from Mommy, who was sick of the whole thing 'round about noon, Monday.

When the girls aren't squabbling, with each other, they are fighting with their friends. When there is no fight to entertain anyone, they take turns whining. To fill in any spaces on their calendar they try on outfits, then throw the clean clothes on the floor and trample on them.

Monday, YGC was sent home from a friend's house for her excessive whining. Tuesday, OGC threw up in the grocery store. Right now they are both sitting in opposite corners of the couch, forbidden to do anything but sit, until they make up with each other. YGC is sick of sitting and is begging OGC to make up. OGC is stubbornly clinging to her anger. I am practicing my relaxation breathing.

The context: Driving to church yesterday, talking about their uncle's upcoming birthday.

Youngest Girl Child: I love Uncle S. He's so nice. I just love him! (pause) When is he going to be dead?

Mommy: (Laughing)

YGC: I just want to know!

Mommy: (Still laughing)

YGC: (very indignant) Why are you laughing at me?!

This is a picture of Addie Lee Clark Bryson and her three daughters. I'm not sure, but I think Addie is the woman in the dark coat without a hat. I don't know who the other woman is.

The tallest child, in the plaid coat, would have been Minnie Elizabeth (probably named after Dow's mother, Lelia Mae Minnie Rolph Bryson, 1857-1924.) The little girl in white, with a big bow, would have been Edythe. The sweet little chunk in the bonnet would have been Irene. Don't you just want to pick her up and kiss those chubby cheeks?

Looking at the apparent ages of the girls, I think this would have been taken about 1908 or 1909. The family was living in Kentucky at this time (where Addie grew up.) The next census has them in Arkansas, where they remained.

To see other vintage photos check out Paper Dolls for Boys.

When I was little I was desperately jealous of the the mail my parents would get. All those mysterious, inviting envelopes, containing who knew what delights. Nothing was more exciting than to get something addressed to me, and often, when there wasn't anything for me (which was most of the time), my mother would let me have a piece of junk mail to open.

Mom always used to tell me that when I was a grown up I wouldn't be so thrilled with mail. She warned me that for grown-ups mail was usually full of undesirables - bills and junk mail, primarily. It was as thrilling for her to get good mail as it was for me to get any mail at all.

Boy, that mother of mine. What a wet blanket. I was sure she was wrong. When I grew up my life would be full of exciting mail. I was sure of it.

Today I went out to get the mail. There were only two items today. A Netflix DVD, and an order from Amazon. That was it. No bills, no ads, no sell-your-timeshare offers, no you-are-invited-to-a-free-dinner-and-sales-pitch come ons, no fake letters from people I've never heard of claiming to be my neighbor and asking, "Please, won't you donate to the (fill in the blank charity)?" Just good stuff and me, grinning as I walked back up the driveway in the rain.

In all the years since I became an official grown-up, I do believe this is the first time I have ever gotten the sort of mail delivery I dreamed of when I was little. So I had to write it down. After all, I'll probably never have it happen again.

Squeeeee!!!!

Guess who called me last night?!

(No, nobody that dramatic. Sorry. Didn't mean to get your hopes up.)

My mother in law's cousin!! (Trust me, it's far more exciting than it sounds.)

My mil was an only child. On her mother's side, she was the only grandchild. On her father's side, she wasn't the only grandchild (obviously), but she didn't have a huge number of cousins. Many, many aunts and uncles, but very few cousins. Not a wildly prolific family in that generation.

For a number of reasons, not the least of which was his early death, contact with her father's family (this would be my husband's maternal grandfather - try not to get confused here) was limited. Not that anyone wanted it that way, it just worked out like that.

Unfortunately (1), it left us knowing very little about that side of the family, which is a shame, because they were immigrants and what history I have been able to learn is absolutely fascinating. (I've been researching them on Ancestry.com, which has been helpful in finding them in the census records and such.) Unfortunately (2), it has proved remarkably difficult to find out more than a little about them. I get tantalizing snapshots every 10 years, but there are so many things that happened in between censuses. What happened to J.'s wife? Why does he suddenly have only one child and is living with his parents? Did his wife and first child die? I don't know. I can't find any death records. I can't even find a marriage record, to tell me his wife's name. I only know she existed because, on his WWI draft registration papers, he stated that he had a wife and two children.

Then, last week, I found a reference that gave us a name. A cousin! Someone who might be able to answer some of the questions we have about the family! Someone I was actually able to track down online and find an address I could use to write to her!

So, last week I carefully wrote a very tactful letter, enclosed a copy of a picture we had of her mother, and gave this cousin our contact information. And yesterday? She called!!!! She called us and I had a lovely conversation with her!

She is 86 years old, an absolutely delightful, sweet lady. Unfortunately (3), she seems to know as little about the family as we do. She didn't even realize her grandfather had been a widower before he married her grandmother.

Never mind. She is family and she is excited to hear from us. Her children are excited to hear from us. We are excited to hear from her! I can't wait to get to know them all better.

And that is why I was jumping up and down and squealing with delight yesterday afternoon, instead of making dinner.

Goals For This Summer:

1. Start the girls on the first steps toward doing their own laundry.
2. Go to the park once a week.
3. Go to the library once a week. (Corollary: Do not lose any books this summer.)
4. Teach Oldest Girl Child how to sew a straight seam. Help her make something simple.
5. Start teaching OGC how to cook a dinner.
6. Gardening
7. Canning
8. Get the girls in the habit of keeping their room clean - no going out to play until morning chores are done and beds are made.
9. Make at least one trip to a local museum or history site
10. Tour the local cave

I'd like to sign them both up for swimming lessons, ballet, and some sort of martial arts, but the swimming classes were full by the time I remembered to sign up for them (in April), ballet classes are on hiatus for the summer, and well, I really need to get on the stick about getting more information on local dojos.

Of course, anyone want to bet that I'll wake up one day at the end of the summer and think, "Wait a second. Where'd the time go? We didn't do anything!"

*Close with ABBA, singing Slipping Through My Fingers*