La•bile (lā' bīl') adj.

1. Open to change; adaptable.
2. Chemistry Constantly undergoing or likely to undergo change; unstable; capable of changing state or becoming inactive when subjected to heat or radiation.
3. Medicine Readily or frequently changing, as a: readily or continually undergoing chemical, physical, or biological change or breakdown b: characterized by wide fluctuations c: emotionally unstable.

Yesterday, David's pediatrician mentioned offhandedly that the albuterol he is taking to open up his air passages (due to a wheezy, coughy cold he and Joshua have contracted) may make him more "labile." Today we are learning what this word means.

A few examples:

He gets yellow mac'n'cheese stains on my shirt. I change. "Mommy, I don't like that shirt. Take it off. I want you to look nice. I want you to look like William's mommy."

Receives a granola bar, plays vigorously with it, finds it broken. Result: Tantrum.

Joshua attempts to console, receives a shove. "Joshua, go away. I want you to go in the living room."

Expresses desire to go to bed, hears that he must brush his teeth and change his diaper as usual. Result: Tantrum.

I can't fully describe the nonsensical defiance, screaming, and battle of the wills going on here today, but let's just say I'm thankful he's sleeping now. This is nothing like the sweet, sleepy, cooperative, angelic boy of yesterday, cuddling close to Mommy through the doctor appointment and chest x-ray, who took a 4 hour nap. That was Jekyll; this is Hyde! We are thankful the inhaler and the steroids seem to be working great on the lungs - of course because David is recovering, but also so that we may not need these awful drugs much longer!

A Little Cutting and Pasting?

You might think this post is going to be about Joshua starting preschool tomorrow. We are all taking it very coolly on the outside, but I wonder if Joshua is as keyed up as I am on the inside? It's so hard to believe he is old enough to be going to school. Where did my baby go?!

But actually, that is another story. Joshua is not the only one in the family doing some cutting and pasting. On Monday morning, I very neatly sliced my calf open while taking out the garbage, just as I heard the broken dish rattling around in the bag and remembered its threatening presence. We had plans to go downtown with friends for the U.S. Navy Band's annual Labor Day concert, but first, we had an impromptu visit to the urgent care center. (I suppose nobody ever plans to go to Urgent Care!)

Thankfully, I did not need stitches. Instead, they glued my skin together! Much less ghastly than stitches, in my opinion, and we were even able to go to the concert afterwards. The wound stung a bit yesterday, but today it has mostly been itching around the bandage.

The worst part isn't that I will have yet another scar - rather, reminder of God's protection - but that I can't get my leg wet for two weeks. I have yet to figure out exactly how to bathe with this constraint, so please excuse me if I begin to stink! Meanwhile, I'll try to stick to cutting and pasting on the computer, never put anything sharp straight into my trash bag again, and leave the true cutting and pasting for Joshua to handle.

A Muddled Mom in McDonald's

This is what happens when a tired mom tries to buy her family fast food but can't think fast enough:

"Can I help you?" asked the cashier briskly, obviously eager to turn over customers to cut the lengthening line.
I slid closer to the register, eyeing the menu board, mentally calculating, while questioning my two young sons about their lunch preferences. At least, I thought I asked both of them what they wanted.
"Yes please. Can you get a 4-piece chicken mcnuggets without buying a kids meal?" I fervently hoped so, but it wasn't on the menu.
"Yes," she said to my relief.
I didn't bother asking how much. "We'll take a 4-piece nuggets, a mcdouble, and a hamburger." I was happily thinking, "That hamburger is only 89 cents, even less than the dollar menu! I really saved us some money with that wise choice!"
The clerk rang it up; I swiped my Visa; she left to fill the order. Then remembered I had been falling asleep in the van and wanted a coffee.
I cleared my throat. "Ahem. Ma'am? Can I also get a small mocha? Did my card already go through or do I have to swipe it again?"
"You have to do it again but wait a minute while I fix it so it will let it use the same card twice in a row." Ah, security. I'm glad "it" is protecting my financial assets so that we have more money safely available to spend at McDonald's in the future.
She brought the coffee and scanned my overflowing purse, my tray, my sons and their friends jumping around like a hungry tribe, and my generally disheveled appearance. "There you go. Is that all?"
"Yes, thanks," I mumbled in some embarrassment as I prepared to leave.
Then I glanced at my friend's tray. Three chocolate milks. I set down my tray. Oops.
I flagged down my now harried cashier. "I'm sorry, ma'am. I forgot the drinks. Can we also have two chocolate milks and a cup for water?" Unwilling to subject the security software to a third swipe of my credit card and possibly freeze the whole system, I pulled out five dollars.
She retrieved two milks from two different refrigerators - I guess we were buying them out -and plunked them down on my tray. She fixed her eyes on me and pointed somewhere out of sight. "The water cups are over there. Anything else?"
I looked back at her. Only half joking, I responded, "I don't know. Ask me in 15 minutes."
Finally at our table, I distributed the food. I proudly presented David with his 89-cent hamburger. He did not appreciate it and loudly rejected my offering. "NO! I don't want that! I don't want a hamburger! I want chicken nuggets!"
"You do?" I was taken aback momentarily. "You always get a burger. Well, start eating the burger, and soon I will go get you chicken nuggets. I'm sorry, I guess I forgot to ask you what you wanted."
David, of course, would not start eating his hamburger and started eating Joshua's coveted nuggets. "What should I do?" I lamely wondered. The only way to ward off World War III would be to face that cashier again with my fourth order!
My friend's son unwittingly came to my rescue. "Mom, can I have another cheeseburger?"
"Are you going to eat the WHOLE thing?" Emphatically yes.
"Here Marshall," I said as I fished out some more bills. (I had helplessly noted on my receipt that the 4-piece nuggets cost a whopping $1.99.) "Could you please bring us another 4-piece nuggets too, please?"
He graciously did, and thereafter peace and harmony were restored. Mostly. Now there were some disagreements about whose turn it was to eat of the rejected hamburger, and on top of that, we ran out of apple dipper slices.
As we ran out the door hustling to get to our show on time, I downed the remaining chicken nugget in one bite. No way was that half-dollar going to waste! The hamburger? Well...I confess that I threw away about 35 cents worth.
But, I was very thankful not to have to admit to the cashier that yes, actually, there will be something else.