All was going well until a couple or three things happened in a row. After such a hot summer, the weeds had all but taken over so we had a week end where we all were in the yard, paddock and pool area cleaning up. I love being outside, and although I do not have the greatest green thumb, love the garden. So, I pulled up weeds and cut back stuff and woke up with a very painful shoulder. Let it rest was the cure. So I did. Nothing strenuous on the right shoulder for the next two weeks. Then, unexpectedly, I found dancing the tango for four hours was not great for muscle injuries. I am in a play and am playing a cranky, crusty old lady who throws away her walking stick to do the tango.
I awoke the next morning after dancing and twirling my Saturday away, to find I could not lift my right arm. Another bad decision to take advantage of a birthday gift of a personal trainer just two days later sealed my fate. I am now hoping and praying as I sit here with an ice pack on my shoulder that the cortisone shot from my Orthopedic Doctor kicks in real soon.
So along with my pain, which by the way when you have nine kids at home and the cleaning, cooking and washing that goes with that, I had Isaiah testing the "sagging" pants yet again for the umpteenth time in the last year. Because he is very privileged to attend a private Christian school, this is a suspension offense. He somewhat jovially informed me he learned this while he was back in Africa. He had also informed me several times that his former adoptive family had said we couldn't control him. I guess that meant without beating. He has learned a lesson this week. Don't believe all you are told.
I decided that I would not take his "word" for his size in pants, but rather have his dad measure his waist and remove all pants that were above his waist size. Just a simple thing really. I took a tape measure to the store and after finding his waist size was 27 and a bit ", nothing over 29" was allowed in his cupboard. I then measured every pair of pants I bought to replace most of the 32" shorts he had scored from the older boys who are much bigger and taller. I have to say, we have come a long way, because the next morning when he came down in his school uniform, he grinned at me and said his pants really felt funny because it was a long time since he could feel them fit his waist. This is great news for me because at the very least I do not have to look at most of his rear end when he climbs over to the back seat.
School has been challenging for my three older boys this year. Isaiah is realizing for the first time that his teachers all know me ( I teach drama at school) and because of that I am the "mum" who knows most if not everything. No more skipping homework, or not turning in stuff, or pretending he doesn't know what's on the board. Ah, he just might get an education out of this. The twins have been struggling with adjusting to a new school as well as adapting the schedule, homework, and all the rest that goes with ninth grade, along with their learning disabilities. They have severe receptive/expressive language disorder and we put them back in public school to be able to receive the help they needed in school. They were given and accepted in the special needs learning program, but when we went to find the appropriate school for them, we found that they were not going to get the help they needed because of education cost cuts.
And on top of that, my Aspergers' child has informed me she gets on better with the kids in eight grade, so can she skip a grade and be with them. I did tell her that when she gets a 100% in all subjects we will consider that. The younger four are back in tutoring (they are all dyslexic) so that leaves Alicia, the A student being just as easy as can be and a true joy amongst the sometimes anxious times of wondering just how God will work it out. Thank goodness He does, and I don't have to. Just be annoying mum from time to time.
