All in all, it was not a bad weekend. Two of 4 kids were grounded. BB tried to negotiate the terms of grounding down to 5 days instead of 7, and then tried to explain that I never said "Friends" were included in the grounding. I figure he is just trying to feel around for the boundaries, sort of like a dog who has a new fence...sniff around the fence, try to dig under the fence, try to jump over the fence...maybe urinate on the fence...and then relax because now he knows the fence is what is keeping him safe. And for BB, bargaining is one of his trickiest tactics. He was told to head upstairs and clean the boys bedroom. But he complained about that and then when he saw that I was just about done cleaning the living room, he claimed that he wanted to clean the living room and that this is what he wanted to do all along. W.R.O.N.G-O! But thanks for playing.

By Sunday, he settled down for the most part. And I do believe that he is attempting to communicate with me. He made a little notebook and wrote a journal entry and in this journal entry, which he very patiently waited for me to read, he stated that he felt he had had a pretty good day and had even enjoyed Zone 252 which is the Children's program during church. Maybe journaling back and forth to each other is a good way for us to bridge this communication gap. I might suggest to him that we each write a journal entry about the day and then let each other read it.

PH has another doctor appointment tomorrow. This one is a consult and should not be any more invasive than a physical. But I have a gut feeling that we are headed for more invasive appointments as we try to figure out why he continues to reflux, regurgitate and vomit continually throughout the day. Rather than decreasing, things seem to be getting worse. But PH doesn't complain. He just goes with the flow. When I told him he has another appointment, he just said, "OK."

I reached the summit of Mount St. Laundry. And I have reached the Towel Foothills which I shall conquer tonight. I danced with my WetJet across the kitchen floor and perhaps we shall dance again tonight in the bathroom. I had the living room looking fairly decent for about an hour and then Peanut decided to cut up some curling ribbon into little chunks which got spread across the floor as people walked and the wind blew in through the open window. Sigh. Maybe I should consider covering everything in plastic or taking a picture and hanging it on the wall to remind me of how my living room COULD look if I did nothing else but pick up dirty socks, apple cores, shreds of paper and discarded sweatshirts all day or vacuumed twice a day like my Grandmother did. In her house, dust dare not settle anywhere. Alas, she would have had a different sort of life had she had 3 boys instead of just my Dad!

My house will never be a showpiece. But when I see my kids relaxing on the couches and I get a moment to put my feet up on my ottoman as I sit in my favorite comfy chair, I realize, it's still home. And the Lego's are forever banished to the boys room upstairs. That should last a few days anyway!