oh the joys of owning a horse

on tuesday, just in time for our weekly private lesson with sabin's riding instructor, i got an SMS from the stable that matilde was very lame and they weren't going to put her out in the paddock today. so i went right over. it was rather alarming as matilde was standing on her tippy toe with her left front and would hardly put any weight at all on it. we couldn't see anything wrong - no bone jutting out, no bumps, no swelling, no hot spots - it was seemingly nothing!

so i called the vet. happily, he was in the neighborhood and he came right away. he quickly diagnosed a hoof abscess. i'd never heard of such a thing - i think we were just lucky, as it's apparently quite common. he removed her shoe and tested to see where the worst of the pain was and then opened up her hoof to release the pus. dang is that a nasty smell. apparently the abscess is a long time in forming, but once it gets bad, it's extremely painful for the horse, because the hoof is so tough, there's nowhere for all that gunk to go. it was a relief that matilde wasn't just being a drama queen (which she has been known to be).

he said it was one of the deepest he'd seen and he didn't dare dig any more out of it, for fear of damaging the wall of her hoof. you can see the round hole he opened at the top of this photo. he packed the open spot with gauze and wrapped her entire hoof in gauze, tape, a plastic bag and more tape, so it was completely protected the first night. then he advised us to invest in a protective boot. this is how they look - the very height of horse fashion. i read a bit about them online and some people use them instead of shoes, tho' i'm not sure i'd do that, as i think if you rode a longer distance in such boots, it would begin to irritate around the coronet band.

on the second day, we removed his wrappings and soaked tilly's hoof in a buck of warm, soapy water for 15 minutes. i was worried she wouldn't go for that, but she actually seems to quite enjoy it - it's kind of a pampering pedicure and she stands patiently for it, like a good girl. bribery of carrots and treats helps.

then we fill the hole with some kind of blue iodine tincture and put her boot on. she can't go outside in the mud like she normally does, so we turn her out in the arena for a bit of exercise. on the first day, she was still lame, but already on day two, she appears to be back to herself (tho' we wouldn't yet chance it by riding her). she enjoys being in the arena by herself and it's perfect for a good roll. or two. or three.

i am always amazed at the capacity of horses to heal quickly. we'll be able to have the shoer in early next week to put her shoe back on and be back to riding her as normal. the boots were pretty expensive, but it seems to work really well as a protector and she isn't bothered by it, so we've felt it was a worthy investment. better than having to get a new horse or having her out of commission for a month! and if it ever happens again, we've got the boots - they come as a pair, so we've got two.

memory

this is memory

she's 8 now.

she's a norwegian trotting horse (norwegian standard bred?)

she's taller than she looks in these photos (16+ hands)

it got down to 0 degrees for about a week, so we got her a blanket.

she's only been driven, but hasn't been ridden.

she has a sweet, quiet manner, but it seems like she doesn't know much.

when the weather gets better, we'll start working with her. she is wondering where all of the other horses are. the neighbor has one, but he's been indoors in the snowy, slippery weather, as he's getting a bit old.  pinky will come home at the end of the month to keep her company.

pinky larew

trying out pinky at her old owner's house

short legs make for a bumpy trot.

out in the pasture at the riding school.

pinky apparently likes to roll in the mud.  and we've got plenty of that this year.

everyone needs a pony they can play with at some point. 

pinky horse and pinky girl (or at least pink jacket)

pony or piglet?

4th out of 12!

not great shots (it's just TOO DARK these days) - but it will give you an idea of the horse show.  Sabin competed in LD1 - a dressage pattern that you do at the trot and the walk.

far pinned on the pin in the wrong spot - i fixed it before she competed.

off down the center line - matilde looks grey with her new haircut.

i love the fresh cut on her tail as well - why didn't we do that? it looks so good with a blunt cut!

kind of a fast trot.

4th place of 12!

sabin ended up in fourth place overall (out of 12) - pretty good for the first time completing the class. one of the girls in her class was in her 20s! tho' it looks like a 6th place ribbon, it's actually 4th (everyone from 3rd and beyond get green in denmark). and best of all, she's already declared she wants to do it again!

sabin & matilde are ready for christmas

matilde's new haircut. 

and her reindeer ears!

they leave the furry bits where the saddle goes, to make it more comfortable.

hugs for tilly bear.

and a santa hat for the riding helmet.

love.

Little League Coaching - Fail

Dear Coach,

You whipped your email out last night too fast to really think over the things that happened at the baseball game.  You might have corrected some things if you'd just reviewed the things you typed.  But I understand.  You were in a hurry to get it all out. 

You completely failed the boys last night.  And that's okay.  You know that Steve and I were in your shoes last year.  We had one night of total failure, too.  It was miserable.

Your job is to lead and inspire the kids.  You think their bad attitudes came from being sopping wet?  Or being 15 points behind?  Or did their bad attitudes come from getting yelled at while they watched our pitcher throw ball after ball?  They stood in the rain and helplessly watched their opponents walk the bases and score 5 points to end each inning.

And you think an 8 year-old knows when he's supposed to run from 2nd base?  The ball was hit in the infield.  He didn't want to get out.  And you were standing there on your phone while he looked to you for base running advice.  I felt Finn's pain and really wanted the game to be over, too.  But we did discuss with him that you don't express such snotty sentiments.  It's not team spirit.  But you benched my sensitive kid while team morale was already at a low.  How do you think the other boys felt taking the field when you're busy yelling at one? 

I don't know if your house was on fire, but I'm not certain why your phone is even on when you're standing at 3rd base to coach the runners.  I was really embarrassed for you when I watched the opponent's coach walk in front of our fence to take the coach at 3rd base position.  He walked quietly by and picked up all of the bats strewn out in front of our dugout.  He placed them behind the fence and then waited for you to finish your call. 

Our pitchers need to warm up.  They need coaching before they're trying to perform under pressure.  You're totally failing them.  I've politely volunteered to help.  You called me a typical woman.  Last year, I invited all of my pitchers and potential pitchers to a Saturday afternoon pitching workshop.  Not once did Steve ask during a game, "How is he holding the ball?"  That's a question for practice time.  The already-under-pressure pitcher hears that question and loses all confidence.  I hope you'll think about the effect your remarks have on your boys. 

And that leads me to the best news of the whole night.  You seemed to take my comments to heart and you went back out there with numerous positive and encouraging instructions for the boys.  You brought them together, put their hands in a circle and shouted the team's name.  They loved that.  They crave leadership and inspiration.  And they will mirror your attitude every single time. 

Steve wants to give up on this league.  He and Finn have a hard time enduring what's going on.  But neither of us is interested in teaching our boys that's it's easy to quit a team sport. 

We discussed this topic at length.  I feel that we paid a fee for these boys to participate on this team so they could learn and have fun.  Those are our two primary objectives.  If there is still a chance for both of those things this season, then our boys will be at every practice and game.  If we feel that those two things aren't also the objective of the team, then we'll reconsider our decision. 

I am sorry I engaged in argument with you during the game.  I'm sorry I quit keeping score.  I don't expect to wind up being best buddies with you.  But I do want what's best for all of the boys.  And typical woman or not, my offer for assistance with pitching still stands. 

Regards, Monica

big girl

shots of a rather big girl with a big camera on a sunny weekend day. these were taken by her big sister, karoline. i think we'll probably make her go around with bricks on her head to try to keep her from growing, since she's growing up way too fast.

skating beauty

after years of rollerblading, also in the house, sabin is a natural at ice skating. we had a bit of a thaw and now the ice is much smoother and more fabulous. tho' snow is on its way again, so we'll be sweeping. it's good to have your own lake.

frosty matilde eats carrot treats

early snow

sabin and nicoline by the lake

snow angel #1 - sabin

snow angel #2 - nicoline

two snow angels

that's not at all an open spot of water behind them where Far fell in.
or maybe it is.

This morning after my iPhone alarm went off, I previewed my mail, skimmed new tweets and reluctantly looked at my news feed on Facebook to see what was going on in the world.  7 minutes later, I canceled the snooze and made myself a promise - I would leave the iPhone and computer alone until I got the boys to school.  It always seems like watching YouTube over breakfast or playing a quick game of Angry Birds before putting on shoes makes us late.  And I hate running late.  And we've been running late a lot lately.

I came downstairs to find Owen watching YouTube already.  It was early,  though, and I poured him a bowl of cereal.  Told him he could keep watching as long as he was EATING his breakfast.  The boy often gets so focused on the video, he forgets there are cereal bits getting soggy right in front of him.  Who can blame him?  That's one compelling round of Lego guys blowing each other up into stop-motion nonsense bits. 

My phone squeaks with a new mail.  Irresistable.  Let's just peek.  Oooo, one of my items sold on Amazon!  But why is the credited amount for a $15 Wii game $30?  Expedited shipping!  The buyer wants the game right away.  Hmmmm... I wonder which shipping company I should use.  USPS?  FedEx?  Does Jason have a nice puffy envelope, or can I find one here?  I wonder where the buyer is?  If they're nearby, maybe I could get away with sending Priority Mail.  Need to login on the computer to see where the buyer is.  But the YouTube video drones on and, well, the boys seems to be eating his cereal.

At 8:28am, I announce that after THIS video, we'll turn off the You Tube and put on shoes to leave for school.  I like to be in the car at 8:42.   At 8:32 I get my chance to peek at where the buyer of the Wii game is.  Michigan, hmmmm.  "Get your shoes on, boys!"  I sign off on one last agenda and make sure library books are stowed in the correct backpacks.  I go fetch the sold Wii game off the shelf and tell Owen that he sold it.  He eagerly begins mentally spending the money.  The gmail video chat ring starts.  I think to myself, "So much for ignoring my communications devices during the morning rush."  But it's only 8:34, we've got just a couple minutes to hear the happy birthday wish and giggle at Sabin's sweet voice.  "Finnegan, get your shoes on!"

The boys arrived at school with 5 minutes to get in there, put things away and be seated.  This is typical.  We don't get tardies.  But wouldn't a few more minutes make everything better?  I bid them farewell with my usual words of wisdom.  "Make it a great day!"  "Make good choices."  "I'll see you after school."  "I love you!"  When they don't respond, I put on my little voice and say, "Have a great day Mom, we love you, too!"  They grin and roll their eyes at me and tumble out of the car.  Owen has some sort of grudge against Finn as they run to the door.  He starts swinging his backpack in circles that hit Finn in the back.  I roll down the window and say, "Owen, I can see you right now!  Santa Claus is watching you, too"  Sheesh.  I drive away, my heart swelling over two crazy, rowdy boys I had no idea I could love so much.

Owen is in 3rd grade.  He could be in 4th grade at 9 1/2 years old, but I held him back.  I sent him to Alternative Kindergarten when he was old enough for Kindergarten.  My thinking?  He's emotionally immature.  Still sucking his thumb.  Stuttering.  Still taking afternoon naps.  He can't handle all-day school.  Academically?  He was ready.  He's always been in the top tier of students in his class.  Reading at a higher level than others.  Performing complex math functions that leave his dad and I scratching our heads.

This year, he's not performing in the top tier.  He's in the middle reading group.  And it's taking him forever to complete reading comprehension tests.  And he sat for 30 minutes twirling a pencil one day while he was supposed to be doing a speed math sheet.  His teacher told us these stories and others at our conference two nights ago.  She was describing the boy I know.  She said quietly and calmly that he's the most unfocused child she's ever had in the 3rd grade. She's been teaching for 17 years.  She said she's not a doctor and can't diagnose A.D.D.  But she then gave us a folder full of teacher assessments of Owen.  All aimed at illustrating for a doctor, a child who should have some medication to help him focus.

I did not burst into tears.  Because none of this is a surprise to me.  This is the Owen I know.  Teacher described other kids who went on medication and magically turned things around.  She pointed out that 4th grade will be harder.  And 5th grade, harder yet.  And she also said that Owen is even smarter than other kids she's seen with this problem.  Was she pouring syrupy sweetness on a bitter situation by saying that?  Who knows?

I let the whole thing sink in for a day.  I sat at the park yesterday and Googled A.D.D. on my iPhone.  A skimmed again.  Seems they put A.D.H.D labels on kids with just the attention deficit thing.  I will say, though, that Owen's problem doesn't seem to be hyperactivity.  In fact, I'd consider him to be slow-moving and a bit lazy.  But they did say that A.D.D. kids often seemed "in a fog."

I often ask Owen to join me on my planet.  He understands what I mean.  When he's sitting there with YouTube on over his breakfast, he's very far away.  I can ask, "Do you want more cereal?" in audible tones and he won't even hear me.  This is a kid who can't focus?  No.  This is a kind who doesn't wanna focus on the things we ask him to focus on.  He doesn't wanna focus on 3rd grade.  But he does want to please us. 

And speaking of living in a fog.  His mother is making a smashing success of that.  I didn't want to focus on 3rd grade, either.  I don't wanna focus on making them do their spelling words or math flashcards.  The A.D.D. article I skimmed on my phone (I didn't wanna read or focus on too many of the details, just ones that I found interesting) told me that folks with A.D.D. often are disorganized and cluttered.  Um, hello!  We just cleared the table last night for a card game with the boys.  And on the table now?  The playing cards, the worksheets I found in the boys' bags, my grocery list, a nail clipper, that Wii game I need to ship and an address label.  My breakfast tray & milk glass and a pencil.  My laptop that I'm typing on right now.  And Owen's toy machine gun.  Clutter Queen.

So do I need to medicate the boy?  My own experience with medications tells me that I should avoid that at all costs.  It's my own fault that the boy can't focus.  I never ask him to focus at home.  I allow YouTube over cereal.  I forget to practice his spelling words because I'm too busy searching for something on eBay.  Or texting Maria.  Or reading useless crap on Facebook.  I'm showing him exactly how to barely function with Attention Deficit Disorder.

I have candid discussions about things with my boys, who are 8 and 9, about things that make other parents squeamish.  We talk about sex and drugs.  I ask them to not do drugs.  And I make them watch the news with me every night at 5:30.  During the news, there are ads and more ads for drugs.  Drugs make little annoying symptoms go away.  Owen thinks he needs a heart medication for the chest pain he gets as part of growing so fast.  He thinks Advair might help his wheezing.  I think he might be right, actually. 

But the teacher tells me there is a drug out there that will help Owen focus on the things at school.  And I'm wondering if I can take some of this drug to help me focus on the things I should be focused on. 

Or maybe there's someone out there who will just start kicking my ass and Owen's ass so that we'll do the things that we need to do.

Or maybe I could take responsibility of my own self.  Make that promise to myself to ignore the phone.  And then KEEP the promise.  Aspire to be a better parent.  And then BE a better parent.  Give the child responsibilities.  And then hold him to them.  Give him instructions.  And expect action.

will...

someone

please

comb

her hair?

a lively statue

we spent friday at the free land museum in copenhagen - they have moved farmhouses from all over denmark and southern sweden and reconstructed them as an open-air museum. it's fabulous and very inspiring if you yourself happen to have bought a really old farmhouse that needs some major restoration. sabin spotted a big stone and wanted to "play statue," so here you have her, as a rather lively statue:

she's wearing some of the multiple pairs of leggings we've sewn for her of late. she actually cut these out and sewed most of this pair herself. she loves them so much, she wore them for three days in a row!