Today, Martin is still hanging onto his cold. He is really having a hard time of it, and he had to use his nitro-spray again for heart symptoms. I had to be really patient today, as he could not get up and help, and I am still coughing and carrying on with my cold. Little Joe came right on time this morning, but I was already awake, because lately, I only sleep a little while, and then automatically check on Martin. "Checking" means: a gentle poke in the gut to see if he jumps, watching his stomach go up and down to see if he is breathing, touching his arm or forehead to see if he is still warm, or getting right up in his face to just look at him. Once he woke up when I was staring into his face from about 6 inches away, and it really scared him! He said, "what are you trying to do, give me a heart attack?" Even though it was the dead of night, I thought that was really funny and started laughing. Thankfully, so did he. I mean, he could have taken it the wrong way, right? So, between the little cat naps and the "checking", I don't get great sleep. I feel like I am being paranoid- but I really am concerned about him.

Anyway, Little Joe arrived, gave me a sunny smile and puked all over himself. He still gags when he coughs, so that is to be expected I guess. I had to clean that up, and then he cheerfully went down on his tummy time mat to play with his toys. Right about the time I got kind of snoozy myself, I jerked awake, because I remembered that he had to have a breathing treatment. That takes about 20 minutes, and in the meantime, Eli and Jacob arrived. They are so helpful with the baby and are patient when I have to take care of him, but they are little boys, and always ready for a meal. This morning, they hopefully asked if I could make some "strong-man food" for them, which is Nana jargon for any hot cereal like oatmeal or Malt-o-Meal. I told them I would but to just give me a minute to finish with Little Joe. Being the Nana that I am, I cannot seem to make hot cereal with just water. I always use milk, and a tiny pinch of salt, and heat it slowly while stirring in the cereal and continue to stir over a low flame until it is just the right thickness. Then, before I serve it, I add a generous dollop of real butter and some brown sugar. I spoon the strong-man food onto a plate so that it will cool sooner and finally get it on the table to my very ravenous and appreciative boys. Believe it or not, they will choose my strong-man food over a toaster strudel, (well, most of the time) or pancakes. This morning in particular, I was so very happy that the boys waited patiently while I made the cereal, and Eli even took care of Little Joe so that I could finish.

Martin had generously offered to take the boys for do-nuts, and to be honest, after the puke incident and the breathing treatment, I was all for that. But, Eli gave me the calf-eyes and asked nicely for the strong-man food, and I was lost. Soon after breakfast, the boys asked if they could go to the park that is right next door. Being 10 years old, I feel that Eli can take care of Jacob without me at the park, and I was calculating how long a cat nap I could get since Little Joe was asleep. I told them to be careful and come home if anyone came to the park. How nice to be able to close your eyes and know that if anything happened, the boys would be responsible- I mean, really! So, Little Joe is asleep, Martin is snoozing in his recliner, and I regally recline on my pillows to await the return of the boys, and or Little Joe waking or Martin needing something. The phone rings. It is Eli, and he is calling on his cell phone. "Nana, can we play at my friends house?" What? Wait a minute, what friend's house? I asked him which friend's house and if he were already at the friend's house. He said yes, and I said "NO". I told him to come home, and then I remembered that he had Jacob with him, which he confirmed. I assumed that the friend's house was somewhere right around here, so I told him to come home right away so we could talk about his leaving the park without telling me. I already know his mama is going to have a fit when I tell her that I allowed him to take Jacob to the park alone, even though she has okayed it before. He arrived home right away, and I asked him where his friend lived. He pointed to the neighborhood ACROSS THE HIGHWAY. Oh my gosh, he crossed the highway without permission, and OH MY GOSH, TOOK JACOB WITH HIM. Oh my gosh, I told him to come right home, not knowing where the friend's house was and so he had to cross the highway again with Jacob in tow. I had to take some deep breaths,decide how long I would keep Jessica in the dark about this and keep my patience. Then, of course Little Joe woke up and was hungry and wet. I felt the patience keeper in my brain slowly starting to unravel, and then I just sat down. Martin is asleep, Little Joe is on the bed hungry and wet, and my other two grandsons have safely arrived home after potentially becoming road kill. The, a brilliant idea came to me. Disobediance must have consequences, right? Yes it does. Years ago, I would have taken "Big Mama" the wooden spoon off the wall and used her for her intended purpose, which is not to stir food. But, it occurred to me, that if I used my brain, I had a perfect excuse to get the boys to clean the house for me! I quietly explained why it was a bad choice to cross the highway, especially after not telling me they were leaving the park which is a major no-no on any day. Then, I told them that they could not go back to the park, and had to stay in the house for the rest of the day. Immediately, the groaning began. They said they were bored. Bingo! I found at least 12 different chores to alleviate their boredom. They knew that Big Mama had been kept at her place on the wall this time, so they didn't want to chance it. The work got done. They vacuumed, picked up little trash under the kitchen table, mopped the floors, took the laundry to the laundry room, picked up the toys in the toy room, cleaned the bathrooms and fetched some things when I asked- (like some ice and a cold drink, you know, stuff Nana needs). So, bonus for me, I had help with the house today. Remember, Papa was asleep this whole time. He woke up and saw the busy little beavers, and was so impressed. He told them that he was going to take them to McDonalds for all their hard work. Then, seeing the thunder cloud on my face, he said, "What?" I explained the situation to him, and he realized he was caught in his own trap. Then, with a face as bright as the sun he said, "Gee honey, I have some errands to do, and will be gone for a couple of hours. I could take the boys with my after McDonalds". A couple of hours? Papa and the boys? Hooey! Lets see. A clean house, a full, dry and sleepy baby, and a couple of hours of quiet time? Yeah, you know I gave in. So, this afternoon, I had quiet time. Chubby was sleepy, full and dry, the dogs were outside, and the house was done. Heaven! I though of all the stuff I could do with the time I was given, and mentally began to check off each item, one by one. Finish wrapping the Christmas presents, make some Christmas cookies, pack the box to send to Aarons family for Christmas, put the clean laundry away, (the clean laundry from the weekend), make some phone calls, and on and on. But what I did, was clear my mind, pick up a novel and climb into bed next to sleeping chubby, (oh so carefully of course) and stretch out. I ACTUALLY GOT A NAP! But all too soon, the dogs came rushing in when Martin and boys returned, the baby woke up hungry, the phone began to ring, and it was business as usual. I did actually finish packing the presents for Aaron's family, and start some dinner, all the while the boys grousing that they wanted to go to the park, and Martin letting me know that he still had a cold. I juggled the baby, who was hungry and wet, looked once again longingly at the cookie cutters waiting for my attention, and reminded myself that the greatest blessings in the world are just such blessings as I have with all the activity in my life. Just as I was mentally thanking Heavenly Father for everything, the baby puked all over me, I mean really puked all over me, shirt, hair, arm, and himself, the boys started fighting and Martin wanted something. I started coughing, and could not get my breath, and pointedly looked at my husband, who was still waiting for something. That's okay, I calmly walked to my room, comforting the crying pukey baby, reminded the boys that Big Mama was still there and anxious to go, and told Martin to put a sock in it. Then, after changing the baby and myself, setting the boys in front of the TV and graciously explaining to Martin that "I'LL GET TO IT WHEN I CAN!", settled in the rocking chair, rocked the baby and once again thanked Heavenly Father for blessing me with a perfect life.