Christmas is 30 some days away and already I am having panic attacks about what to buy for the people on my list. I want to find something they will like, use or need. Also, it has to fit my budget. I found something that I want to buy so badly for my niece. Apparently, everyone on the planet wants to buy one for their niece. I can't find them anywhere, not even online. Well, I can find them on ebay. The prices on ebay are WAY too steep for my Christmas budget, especially when I want to buy this for my niece, but it's not something my niece is asking for.
My oldest child doesn't really need anything. I already warned him that his gifts this year will be things he needs now(underwear, shoes) or things he will need in the future (luggage, tools). Boring, I know. But, What do you get a college kid? My other kids are making their lists, and checking them twice. My youngest one changes his list per commercial, or trip to Target. My thought is he shouldn't be disappointed with whatever gifts he gets because at one time or another in the last 6 weeks, he has wanted everything!
I love Christmas. I love the merriment. I love the wonder, innocence and awe the little kids have. I love the feeling of peace and joy, even in the crazy mall. My husband does not like Christmas. He doesn't like the chaos, the traditions and mostly, he doesn't like the expense. I start Christmas shopping on December 26th, just to try to spread the cost out. Or maybe it's because I like to shop and can't pass up a bargain.
Speaking of bargains, our grocery store has a scannable card to get special sale prices on some items. For every $50 you spend, you earn ten cents off a gallon of gas at their gas station. To sweeten the deal, the bank located inside the grocery store has a debit card that gives you an additional five cents off a gallon of gas for every $50 spent at the grocery store and three cents off for every $50 of purchases anywhere else. Once I pulled up to the pump and the person before me paid $4.57 for 30 gallons of gas! They had been saving their rewards!! The deal gets better...when you scan your card at the gas station, you get 1% off your groceries for every 10 gallons of gas. I know that really all that is happening is someone in Cyberville is tracking all my buying habits...but, I can't pass up the bargain.
I thought my son's preschool was a bargain. It is $40 for 7 weeks of preschool. He goes there three days a week, two hours each day. However, we live 9 miles from the school. If I factor in the amount of gas (not to mention time) getting him to and from school...not such a bargain anymore.
I don't know much about all the new healthcare laws. I did read that there would be no more copays for routine physicals. I thought that was a good thing. I am not so naive though to think that insurance companies wouldn't get that money from someplace else. I was right. Our premium went up the equivalent of several copays. Then I took the kids to the doctor for their annual appointments to be told that the routine screenings of hearing, vision and urinalysis may not be covered anymore. Hmm...$10 copay goes away, premiums increase, screenings not covered (and cost me $30 each.) Doesn't make much sense to me. I thought the healthcare laws were supposed to help people. Guess I am just the wrong type of people.
My hair is falling out. It's not my thyroid. It may be hereditary. It may be my diet. It may be stress. Anyway, I bought some Rogaine. Did you know that one of the possible side effects of Rogaine is weight gain? Really, it says it right on the box! What a choice! Thinning hair or chubbier. Guess I'll be wearing a hat. Or a wig.
My daughter is really into saving the environment. (When it is convenient to her.) While buying my Rogaine at Walmart, my daughter spotted reusable sandwich containers. She asked if we could get some. So, we bought six. I pack two sandwiches a day and don't wash dishes everyday, six seemed like a good number. I have to wonder...how "green" are the reusable sandwich containers? I have to wash them either in the dishwasher which uses water and electricity (and gas to heat the water), or in the sink which uses water (gas to heat the water)and towels, which then need to be washed and dried, using more water and electricity. I think the carbon footprint is probably smaller to throw away a few Ziploc bags...
With the holidays approaching, money is on my mind...how to spend it wisely, how to save it, how to use what I have to make the Christmas magic happen.
That's the trouble with Christmas(maybe with life)...the thought of perfect Christmas magic. The thought of the perfection is kryptonite to Supermom's everywhere. Getting the house cleaned and decorated, the cards, the gifts, the cookies, the photos...it all has to be "just right" to make Christmas magic...right? What this self proclaimed Supermom is realizing (VERY slowly) is that all that perfection is just an opinion. What really matters isn't the gifts, the cookies, the decorations. What really matters is the being there, in whatever way you can because you WANT to be there. Being there all stressed and tired because you felt like you HAD to be there doesn't count, and it's not perfection. Perfection is offering whatever you can to the best of your ability because you want to...that's the Christmas magic that will be remembered. That is what makes sense...and saves dollars.
Friday, November 19, 2010
Thursday, October 28, 2010
He's a Big Frog Now, He's Five.
A radio station in Denver used to play a song sung by Robin (Kermit the Frog's nephew) when a listener's child turned five. I love the Muppets. The song is cute, it's happy. It's a little kid (frog) singing about all the things he can do now that he is five. My youngest is five today. I want to like the song today. I really want to. Five makes me sad.
My youngest was a surprise addition to our family. He is nine years younger than his youngest sibling. I can't imagine life without him. Nobody in our family can. My baby is five today. It still surprises me, even after seeing three other children grow, how fast time goes by. Five years went by in what feels like five "sleeps".
Turning five makes me sad. At five they want to be big kids. They head off to school. They have their own adventures. Choose their own friends. It is the end of the sweet, snuggly, innocent cuddles. It marks the beginning of the school age sass, after school talks and running around. It is enjoyable to see your child develop into their own person, but so sad to see the baby disappear.
Although I went through what I thought was my last baby nine years ago, this time I know FOR SURE this is it...my last baby. There are good things...maybe I can sleep through the night. He can dress himself, start wiping himself, clean up his toys. Ha! It's a birthday, not a miracle! OK, but he CAN dress himself. I will miss the sweetness that starts to disappear at age five.
In our house, you get to chew gum at age five. You develop freckles at age five. My son is VERY excited about these events. He starts preschool in five days. He is excited about this too. I love to see my kids excited, but my heart hurts to see them grow so fast. I sent one to college in the fall, now the last one is starting preschool. That sounds so funny...one in college, one in preschool. It IS funny! It is the story of my life! It just feels like the journey from preschool to college happens so quickly. When you have both ends of that spectrum at the same time in your home, you really notice how fast the time goes. Then I realize I will be SIXTY when my little guy graduates from college...and that is a LONG time from now. Best not to rush these thoughts.
I suppose I will enjoy my baby's fifth birthday. I will relish in the memories of his toddler days and not look so far ahead. I enjoy being a parent at nearly every stage (there are a few sketchy years from 10-14) and I have found that even after age eighteen, the kids still not only need their mom, they like their mom a bit better too. I guess that's something to hold onto. But, oh how I miss those baby days...
My youngest was a surprise addition to our family. He is nine years younger than his youngest sibling. I can't imagine life without him. Nobody in our family can. My baby is five today. It still surprises me, even after seeing three other children grow, how fast time goes by. Five years went by in what feels like five "sleeps".
Turning five makes me sad. At five they want to be big kids. They head off to school. They have their own adventures. Choose their own friends. It is the end of the sweet, snuggly, innocent cuddles. It marks the beginning of the school age sass, after school talks and running around. It is enjoyable to see your child develop into their own person, but so sad to see the baby disappear.
Although I went through what I thought was my last baby nine years ago, this time I know FOR SURE this is it...my last baby. There are good things...maybe I can sleep through the night. He can dress himself, start wiping himself, clean up his toys. Ha! It's a birthday, not a miracle! OK, but he CAN dress himself. I will miss the sweetness that starts to disappear at age five.
In our house, you get to chew gum at age five. You develop freckles at age five. My son is VERY excited about these events. He starts preschool in five days. He is excited about this too. I love to see my kids excited, but my heart hurts to see them grow so fast. I sent one to college in the fall, now the last one is starting preschool. That sounds so funny...one in college, one in preschool. It IS funny! It is the story of my life! It just feels like the journey from preschool to college happens so quickly. When you have both ends of that spectrum at the same time in your home, you really notice how fast the time goes. Then I realize I will be SIXTY when my little guy graduates from college...and that is a LONG time from now. Best not to rush these thoughts.
I suppose I will enjoy my baby's fifth birthday. I will relish in the memories of his toddler days and not look so far ahead. I enjoy being a parent at nearly every stage (there are a few sketchy years from 10-14) and I have found that even after age eighteen, the kids still not only need their mom, they like their mom a bit better too. I guess that's something to hold onto. But, oh how I miss those baby days...
Thursday, October 21, 2010
Twenty One Years
Do you remember your 21st birthday? My at the time boyfriend (now husband) had a party for me. He hired a stripper, then invited his Mom over to watch and take pictures. Very awkward! I drank too much wine, plus a bottle of champagne and was so sick. Really sick. Even now sometimes the smell of wine makes me feel sick. It was a fun party. I looked great, I remember exactly what I was wearing. I think I could still get into the shoes...
Today is my 21st wedding anniversary. There will be no party. No overdrinking. I won't look back on this day and remember what I was wearing. But, it is the 21st anniversary, on the 21st...that's kind of cool. Plus, it's the 21st anniversary. The percentage of people who get that far into a marriage is not huge, so I've got that.
People talk about marrying their best friend. They make their marriage sound like rainbows and butterflies. That is great for them, but it isn't my reality. Marrying my best friend is illegal in most states (she's female), and my marriage is more scattered showers and ants. I didn't marry my best friend, I married the guy who asked me. That probably sounds harsh, it isn't meant to. We were in love, we had dated for a couple years, we wanted a family, it was all good. We were two young people chasing the American dream...house with a picket fence, 2.5 children, a dog, you know, that dream.
Twenty one years later we have a house with no fence, 4 kids (we are SO above average), 2 cars, 2 dogs (we tend to overdue the easy parts of the American dream), 2 cats, 2 African water frogs and a rabbit. Our 21st Anniversary. We are old. It seems odd to feel so young, but say you've been married for 21 years.
In 21 years, I have found weight, and lost hair, OK, that goes for both my husband and I. We've owned three homes, ten cars, five dogs, eight cats, three toasters and four vacuums. We are hard on toasters and vacuums and picky about dogs and cats. Some just don't make the cut, others leave us before we are ready.
We have moved across the country, away from family for my husband's job. We have lost two grandparents. We have made new friends and lost contact with old friends. Most importantly, we have raised four amazing-in-their-own-way kids.
We have grown up. We have changed. In some ways we have changed for the better, some changes, not so good. We have seen each others "better" and "worse". We have each considered hanging up the marriage hat at one time or another. But then, we procrastinate, ride out the storm, well, basically, we are cheap and divorce is expensive. But really, we have learned that there are peaks and valleys in marriage and if you hang out for a bit, you'll find yourself atop another peak.
I used to be a very affectionate person. I would send cards "just because" to my husband's work. Then the kids, the bills, the laundry, it has all gotten in the way...so, the nagging question is "Do you love me?"
Let me explain. My husband and I are very different people. We like different music, T.V. shows, movies and food. We have different sleep cycles, he goes to bed early, wakes up early. I am a night owl and love to sleep in. He likes to be ten minutes early for everything. I am more a "fashionably late" type person.Our daily priorities are different, he likes the sink free of dishes. I like to get through the day. I mean, I like all the dirty clothes in the hamper instead of the floor. Toys on the floor don't bother me, noise doesn't bother me. Those things make my husband climb the walls. We are very different. Really, besides living space, bank accounts and kids, we have little in common. So, "do you love me?" is a very valid question.
We have spent 21 years growing up, sometimes apart, sometimes together. We have spent 21 years taking care of the house, the cars, the appliances, the pets and of course, the kids. We often forget to take care of "us". The love isn't expressed as frequently as it should be. I don't say it. Then, I think of Golde from "Fiddler on the Roof". Her husband asked the very same question, "Do you love me?" her response is the same as mine (with some minor fixes);
"For twenty-one years I've washed your clothes
Cooked your meals, cleaned your house
Given you children...
For twenty-one years I've lived with him
Fought him, starved with him
Twenty-one years my bed is his
If that's not love, what is?"
In short, the answer is, in my own quirky way, yes dear, I suppose I do love you. Thanks for 21 years.
Today is my 21st wedding anniversary. There will be no party. No overdrinking. I won't look back on this day and remember what I was wearing. But, it is the 21st anniversary, on the 21st...that's kind of cool. Plus, it's the 21st anniversary. The percentage of people who get that far into a marriage is not huge, so I've got that.
People talk about marrying their best friend. They make their marriage sound like rainbows and butterflies. That is great for them, but it isn't my reality. Marrying my best friend is illegal in most states (she's female), and my marriage is more scattered showers and ants. I didn't marry my best friend, I married the guy who asked me. That probably sounds harsh, it isn't meant to. We were in love, we had dated for a couple years, we wanted a family, it was all good. We were two young people chasing the American dream...house with a picket fence, 2.5 children, a dog, you know, that dream.
Twenty one years later we have a house with no fence, 4 kids (we are SO above average), 2 cars, 2 dogs (we tend to overdue the easy parts of the American dream), 2 cats, 2 African water frogs and a rabbit. Our 21st Anniversary. We are old. It seems odd to feel so young, but say you've been married for 21 years.
In 21 years, I have found weight, and lost hair, OK, that goes for both my husband and I. We've owned three homes, ten cars, five dogs, eight cats, three toasters and four vacuums. We are hard on toasters and vacuums and picky about dogs and cats. Some just don't make the cut, others leave us before we are ready.
We have moved across the country, away from family for my husband's job. We have lost two grandparents. We have made new friends and lost contact with old friends. Most importantly, we have raised four amazing-in-their-own-way kids.
We have grown up. We have changed. In some ways we have changed for the better, some changes, not so good. We have seen each others "better" and "worse". We have each considered hanging up the marriage hat at one time or another. But then, we procrastinate, ride out the storm, well, basically, we are cheap and divorce is expensive. But really, we have learned that there are peaks and valleys in marriage and if you hang out for a bit, you'll find yourself atop another peak.
I used to be a very affectionate person. I would send cards "just because" to my husband's work. Then the kids, the bills, the laundry, it has all gotten in the way...so, the nagging question is "Do you love me?"
Let me explain. My husband and I are very different people. We like different music, T.V. shows, movies and food. We have different sleep cycles, he goes to bed early, wakes up early. I am a night owl and love to sleep in. He likes to be ten minutes early for everything. I am more a "fashionably late" type person.Our daily priorities are different, he likes the sink free of dishes. I like to get through the day. I mean, I like all the dirty clothes in the hamper instead of the floor. Toys on the floor don't bother me, noise doesn't bother me. Those things make my husband climb the walls. We are very different. Really, besides living space, bank accounts and kids, we have little in common. So, "do you love me?" is a very valid question.
We have spent 21 years growing up, sometimes apart, sometimes together. We have spent 21 years taking care of the house, the cars, the appliances, the pets and of course, the kids. We often forget to take care of "us". The love isn't expressed as frequently as it should be. I don't say it. Then, I think of Golde from "Fiddler on the Roof". Her husband asked the very same question, "Do you love me?" her response is the same as mine (with some minor fixes);
"For twenty-one years I've washed your clothes
Cooked your meals, cleaned your house
Given you children...
For twenty-one years I've lived with him
Fought him, starved with him
Twenty-one years my bed is his
If that's not love, what is?"
In short, the answer is, in my own quirky way, yes dear, I suppose I do love you. Thanks for 21 years.
Monday, September 27, 2010
A Little About Us
Recently I was reacquainted with a friend from high school. She asked about me, seeing as how we haven't been in contact for 25 years. So I sent her this slightly smart alec-y response. Actually, I liked what I wrote, so I then used it for my facebook bio. I have added a bit to it since I sent it to my friend, and I still want to edit a bit at the end, but I like it. It read like this:
I am 5'2" with hazel eyes. They used to be dark brown, but with age are fading to hazel..browner or greener depending on what I'm wearing. I like to scrapbook, and cook. I want to write a childrens book and run a marathon. My favorite places to go are Petoskey Michigan, and Disneyworld. I recently went to Hilton Head with my mom and like that too. So, I guess I am a beach person, which surprised me. I think it's because it's so calm at the beach.
I like to sleep. I have four children. Sleep and children are not a good mix. I love to sing and dance. I'll sing anything...except rap. I am really good at singing "Red Neck Woman" , "Before He Cheats" , "My Last Name" and "Roxie". Just don't ask my kids if that's true.
I collect pig things, I don't know why...it started with Miss Piggy. My favorite color is lime green. I drink WAY too much diet coke. I love junk food and don't eat any veggies. I still am not certain what I want to be when I grow up.
I would love to be a high heel wearing, perfectly manicured, well accessorized, trendy clothes wearing person. However, my life is much more suited to my Crocs , jeans and ponytails. So I guess I'll save the other stuff for "special occasions."
I am slightly OCD about making lists and my calendar. I write and rewrite lists and use several calendars...I don't like them to get messy. (Please refer to sentence about having four kids, my calendars are ALWAYS messy!) OK, maybe slightly OCD isn't the right wording...Anyway, I spend so much time making lists that the items on the lists could be completed. But, then I would have no place to cross off my accomplishments.
I drive a tan Dodge caravan that I love. It was the first new car I ever picked out, test drove and bought. It is 8 years old...nearly 90,000 mile on it. I love it. I will probably cry when it dies. I have 2 dogs, 2 cats, a rabbit, 2 african water frogs. I love to clean the house and organize. I should have been a 1950's housewife.
I have made many mistakes in my life, and hopefully have learned from them. I am the person I am because of the mistakes I have made and the experiences I have had, good, bad or ugly.
Then yesterday, my daughter (who is a junior in high school) gives me this paper from one of her teachers. It's an assignment for parents to do, but the student will get 5 bonus points. All I had to do was to send the teacher an email and describe my child in 1000 words or less. I sent this:
Dear Ms. Taylor,
My daughter is the second of four children in our family. She looks up to her older brother (a freshman in college), shares a room (unhappily) with her 8th grade sister, and is extremely helpful and adoring of... her 5 year old brother.
She is a very responsible young lady. She is taking a very tough load of classes,including Jr. ROTC, participates in student government, is a representative for the chorus, has a supervisory role at her job (2-3 nights a week), is a member of the high school swim team and still manages to babysit for neighbors, have a social life with friends, get her homework done, take drivers ed., sew and shop. The only thing that she doesn't have time for is cleaning her room, but that topic we will save for another time. She has talked about being a Dentist when she grows up. She likes fish as pets, but nothing with fur. Her favorite color is orange. She hates meatloaf. And potatoes.
She is a happy, chatty, funny girl. She takes life seriously in the respect that she gives anything she tackles 100% devotion. She works very hard to succeed and has high standards for herself. All the while enjoying herself.
Enjoy your school year! Thanks for your time!
Proud Mother of Amazing Girl
My daughter did not like this. She was embarrassed. She said I overshared. One of my friends said "'Overshare' is teen code for 'I'm self conscious about all those compliments, but I'm actually really flattered and secretly pleased.' The eyeball rolling that probably accompanied the conversation was sign language for 'Thanks, Mom, I love you, too!'" I hope she's right.
I was grateful that child two had this assignment, not child three. I love child three, really, I do. child three is just much different than children one and two. I feel that I don't relate as well with her, or maybe I relate too well... Anyway, all that made me feel bad. This is what I would write if she had such an assignment:
Dear Mrs. Jones,
Thank you for wanting to know a little something about my daughter. Unfortunately, the child you see in class is different than the child I see at home. I know this because I have gotten several phone calls from school raving about what a wonderful child I have. After I make sure they have dialed the correct number and are talking about MY child, I am always amazed.
From what I gather, the child you will see is smart, funny, helpful, kind, considerate, talented, polite and downright delightful! I should warn you that her appearance may be one that leaves you wondering "Where is her Mother?" as I am quite certain she changes her clothing and applies makeup once she is at school.
The child I see is a sassy mouthed, impatient, loud, hand on hip, finger wagging "That's not fair"-ing, fashionista wannabe. She makes my head spin. She wants to be 22 years old RIGHT now!
She was the baby in our family for nine years. It is a role she not only loved, but excelled in, even her body cooperated. She started kindergarten weighing a mere 30 pounds. The dethroning of her baby status when her brother was born was hostile. It was paired with a family relocation to a new state several hundred miles away. Life was not fun. This was the peak of her diva stage...well, until she hit age 13.
She is involved in student council, chorus, track and drama. I am particularly proud of her drama involvement. It is quite evident that she has a flair for drama, she may as well use the talent on a stage where she will be applauded and recognized for her talents.
Mrs. Jones, I certainly don't mean to scare you. As I said, you will see a very different child than I see, and your days spent with her should be fine and go smoothly. If at any point in time you wish to share the delightful child you see, I would be happy to visit your classroom.
Thank you for your interest,
Proud Mother of Teenage Drama Queen
OK, OK, I can hear you all saying how horrible I am! Really, I adore my daughters, both of them. They both leave me in awe. One because she is self motivating, driven, strong, independent, and the other because she is so much like me. I need to apologize to my Mother again.
I am 5'2" with hazel eyes. They used to be dark brown, but with age are fading to hazel..browner or greener depending on what I'm wearing. I like to scrapbook, and cook. I want to write a childrens book and run a marathon. My favorite places to go are Petoskey Michigan, and Disneyworld. I recently went to Hilton Head with my mom and like that too. So, I guess I am a beach person, which surprised me. I think it's because it's so calm at the beach.
I like to sleep. I have four children. Sleep and children are not a good mix. I love to sing and dance. I'll sing anything...except rap. I am really good at singing "Red Neck Woman" , "Before He Cheats" , "My Last Name" and "Roxie". Just don't ask my kids if that's true.
I collect pig things, I don't know why...it started with Miss Piggy. My favorite color is lime green. I drink WAY too much diet coke. I love junk food and don't eat any veggies. I still am not certain what I want to be when I grow up.
I would love to be a high heel wearing, perfectly manicured, well accessorized, trendy clothes wearing person. However, my life is much more suited to my Crocs , jeans and ponytails. So I guess I'll save the other stuff for "special occasions."
I am slightly OCD about making lists and my calendar. I write and rewrite lists and use several calendars...I don't like them to get messy. (Please refer to sentence about having four kids, my calendars are ALWAYS messy!) OK, maybe slightly OCD isn't the right wording...Anyway, I spend so much time making lists that the items on the lists could be completed. But, then I would have no place to cross off my accomplishments.
I drive a tan Dodge caravan that I love. It was the first new car I ever picked out, test drove and bought. It is 8 years old...nearly 90,000 mile on it. I love it. I will probably cry when it dies. I have 2 dogs, 2 cats, a rabbit, 2 african water frogs. I love to clean the house and organize. I should have been a 1950's housewife.
I have made many mistakes in my life, and hopefully have learned from them. I am the person I am because of the mistakes I have made and the experiences I have had, good, bad or ugly.
Then yesterday, my daughter (who is a junior in high school) gives me this paper from one of her teachers. It's an assignment for parents to do, but the student will get 5 bonus points. All I had to do was to send the teacher an email and describe my child in 1000 words or less. I sent this:
Dear Ms. Taylor,
My daughter is the second of four children in our family. She looks up to her older brother (a freshman in college), shares a room (unhappily) with her 8th grade sister, and is extremely helpful and adoring of... her 5 year old brother.
She is a very responsible young lady. She is taking a very tough load of classes,including Jr. ROTC, participates in student government, is a representative for the chorus, has a supervisory role at her job (2-3 nights a week), is a member of the high school swim team and still manages to babysit for neighbors, have a social life with friends, get her homework done, take drivers ed., sew and shop. The only thing that she doesn't have time for is cleaning her room, but that topic we will save for another time. She has talked about being a Dentist when she grows up. She likes fish as pets, but nothing with fur. Her favorite color is orange. She hates meatloaf. And potatoes.
She is a happy, chatty, funny girl. She takes life seriously in the respect that she gives anything she tackles 100% devotion. She works very hard to succeed and has high standards for herself. All the while enjoying herself.
Enjoy your school year! Thanks for your time!
Proud Mother of Amazing Girl
My daughter did not like this. She was embarrassed. She said I overshared. One of my friends said "'Overshare' is teen code for 'I'm self conscious about all those compliments, but I'm actually really flattered and secretly pleased.' The eyeball rolling that probably accompanied the conversation was sign language for 'Thanks, Mom, I love you, too!'" I hope she's right.
I was grateful that child two had this assignment, not child three. I love child three, really, I do. child three is just much different than children one and two. I feel that I don't relate as well with her, or maybe I relate too well... Anyway, all that made me feel bad. This is what I would write if she had such an assignment:
Dear Mrs. Jones,
Thank you for wanting to know a little something about my daughter. Unfortunately, the child you see in class is different than the child I see at home. I know this because I have gotten several phone calls from school raving about what a wonderful child I have. After I make sure they have dialed the correct number and are talking about MY child, I am always amazed.
From what I gather, the child you will see is smart, funny, helpful, kind, considerate, talented, polite and downright delightful! I should warn you that her appearance may be one that leaves you wondering "Where is her Mother?" as I am quite certain she changes her clothing and applies makeup once she is at school.
The child I see is a sassy mouthed, impatient, loud, hand on hip, finger wagging "That's not fair"-ing, fashionista wannabe. She makes my head spin. She wants to be 22 years old RIGHT now!
She was the baby in our family for nine years. It is a role she not only loved, but excelled in, even her body cooperated. She started kindergarten weighing a mere 30 pounds. The dethroning of her baby status when her brother was born was hostile. It was paired with a family relocation to a new state several hundred miles away. Life was not fun. This was the peak of her diva stage...well, until she hit age 13.
She is involved in student council, chorus, track and drama. I am particularly proud of her drama involvement. It is quite evident that she has a flair for drama, she may as well use the talent on a stage where she will be applauded and recognized for her talents.
Mrs. Jones, I certainly don't mean to scare you. As I said, you will see a very different child than I see, and your days spent with her should be fine and go smoothly. If at any point in time you wish to share the delightful child you see, I would be happy to visit your classroom.
Thank you for your interest,
Proud Mother of Teenage Drama Queen
OK, OK, I can hear you all saying how horrible I am! Really, I adore my daughters, both of them. They both leave me in awe. One because she is self motivating, driven, strong, independent, and the other because she is so much like me. I need to apologize to my Mother again.
Wednesday, September 15, 2010
It's a Choice
My daughter nearly missed the bus this morning. No, she didn't wake up late. No, she wasn't having a bad hair day. Before she left today I asked to see what she was wearing. I don't always do that, and I don't know why I did today. God must have been whispering to me to check her out though. Hope God turned his back then on my reaction. My 13 yr old daughter had on this black tube top thing that I think is intended to be worn as an undergarment, something like Spanx, as a top. She paired it with a pencil, very pencil, skirt, a wide belt and a sweaterish shawl type thing. First thing I saw was her bra straps. I told her she needed to change. She hollered, stomped her feet and said "I'll grab jeans and change at school." Apparently, she thinks I am really stupid. I informed her that she would change NOW. She came back downstairs and tried to leave again before I had a glimpse. She was not happy when I said the shirt needed to be changed too. More hollering, stomping, banging around in her closet...I followed her up, my little guy was still sleeping (not for long though, some idiot in the neighborhood honked his horn 6-8 times at 6:20a.m.!). She then ran down the stairs and all the way to the bus stop. Miraculously, she made the bus. I then rummaged through the pile of clothing in her closet. She won't be wearing those items again. She makes interesting fashion choices. I don't like them. When she is famous for her fashion designs, I am sure she will tell stories about her mean old mother and how she didn't like her daughter's choice of fashion.
My oldest brother is moving to China for work. He is married, no kids. He is learning Mandarin. He has also lived in Brazil and Germany for work. He speaks fluent Portuguese and pretty decent German. He has traveled, just for fun to Egypt. He lived in Hawaii for awhile. I think he is amazing. He sees cool things, goes cool places, does cool things.
My youngest wears Pull-ups to bed. He has been dry though for several weeks. I ran out of Pull-ups, but thought it was no big deal, he has been dry. WRONG! One night in undies and he was soaked! Back to Pull-ups. My brother speaks several languages, sees the world. I change wet beds.
That's when I started thinking about it...these are choices. I choose to be a Mom. That doesn't mean I choose to have no adventures. That doesn't mean I don't have cool experiences. It means I don't move to China. It means I won't travel Egypt for awhile, if at all. I will pay for college, not cruises, or golf clubs. It's a choice. I imagine traveling the world would be so exciting! But I can't imagine a world without my kids. I made the right choice for me.
My oldest daughter just turned 17. She has been having to make many choices. She is a very motivated, determined, responsible girl. She got a promotion at her work and now is in charge of closing the store a few nights a week. She got a raise. She wanted to join the school's golf team, but made the choice to skip it because of her duties at work. My Dad thinks she should have golfed. She will be working the rest of her life. That is a valid point. It wasn't my choice to make though. She also started ROTC at school and joined the Color Guard for ROTC. They appointed her the commander of the squad. She takes a hard load of classes at school. She is amazing. She has made good choices so far. She knows what she can handle, and what she can't. She chooses wisely. She will make successful life choices, I can feel it.
I have a big, intimidating "to-do" list sitting on my desk. I write and rewrite the list daily. I choose to manage my time poorly (thank you internet inventors with an extra nod to the developers of facebook). I have intentions to complete the to do list. I have intentions of exercising daily, of drinking more water, of making it to church. I even have all those things on my list. I simply make choices of things to fill my day that are not on the list. I'm not lazy, or disorganized. I am simply exercising my right to choose. I choose to admire my to do list. I choose to ponder the amount of effort needed to complete the tasks and delegate them to the appropriate day. Whether I complete the tasks? Well, that will be another choice.
My oldest brother is moving to China for work. He is married, no kids. He is learning Mandarin. He has also lived in Brazil and Germany for work. He speaks fluent Portuguese and pretty decent German. He has traveled, just for fun to Egypt. He lived in Hawaii for awhile. I think he is amazing. He sees cool things, goes cool places, does cool things.
My youngest wears Pull-ups to bed. He has been dry though for several weeks. I ran out of Pull-ups, but thought it was no big deal, he has been dry. WRONG! One night in undies and he was soaked! Back to Pull-ups. My brother speaks several languages, sees the world. I change wet beds.
That's when I started thinking about it...these are choices. I choose to be a Mom. That doesn't mean I choose to have no adventures. That doesn't mean I don't have cool experiences. It means I don't move to China. It means I won't travel Egypt for awhile, if at all. I will pay for college, not cruises, or golf clubs. It's a choice. I imagine traveling the world would be so exciting! But I can't imagine a world without my kids. I made the right choice for me.
My oldest daughter just turned 17. She has been having to make many choices. She is a very motivated, determined, responsible girl. She got a promotion at her work and now is in charge of closing the store a few nights a week. She got a raise. She wanted to join the school's golf team, but made the choice to skip it because of her duties at work. My Dad thinks she should have golfed. She will be working the rest of her life. That is a valid point. It wasn't my choice to make though. She also started ROTC at school and joined the Color Guard for ROTC. They appointed her the commander of the squad. She takes a hard load of classes at school. She is amazing. She has made good choices so far. She knows what she can handle, and what she can't. She chooses wisely. She will make successful life choices, I can feel it.
I have a big, intimidating "to-do" list sitting on my desk. I write and rewrite the list daily. I choose to manage my time poorly (thank you internet inventors with an extra nod to the developers of facebook). I have intentions to complete the to do list. I have intentions of exercising daily, of drinking more water, of making it to church. I even have all those things on my list. I simply make choices of things to fill my day that are not on the list. I'm not lazy, or disorganized. I am simply exercising my right to choose. I choose to admire my to do list. I choose to ponder the amount of effort needed to complete the tasks and delegate them to the appropriate day. Whether I complete the tasks? Well, that will be another choice.
Tuesday, August 31, 2010
My Son the College Student
Despite all my internal protesting, my son went ahead and grew up. I took him to college, twelve hours away, four weeks ago. He is enrolled at a military college and is in the Corp of Cadets (ROTC program). He had one week similar to Army basic training. No clocks, no watches, no tv, computers, phones. He had 60 seconds each evening to shower, shave and brush his teeth. My son informed me he didn't use a towel or toothbrush for the whole time. He has fast growing facial hair and was told he would have to shave twice a day, so once a day he dry shaved in the darkness of morning. I saw him at the end of the week, his face was quite sore looking. Poor guy.
He has to do 20 push-ups each time he enters his dorm. He counts them aloud. Then has to add "1 for the troops. 1 for the corp. 1 for..." which adds another five push-ups. Anyway, I saw him do this when we were moving him into his dorm. I was digging for my camera, but he was too fast. I asked him to do one more so I could get a photo. He did, he even counted off "And one for my Mom." I secretly hope each time he does his push-ups he thinks that in his head.
He survived the week, we said our official "goodbyes" as we won't see him again until Christmas. My daughters and I all had a good cry, and we drove the twelve hours home. The next day, my son called home. He was doing laundry and had some time. I smiled for hours! I have been talking to him on the phone once a week. He called once to say he now had to carry a razor with him 24/7 because his facial hair grows so fast. He has to get a hair cut every week too, all the guys do. We instant message or text nearly everyday. I really miss the daily face to face interaction with him, but I am enjoying this new relationship we are forging via technology.
I am feeling very strong senses of pride as he tells me about doing so well on his physical fitness test, that he was asked to join the Army Ranger Challenge Team (he is sending me a sticker for my car! After I send him a self addressed stamped envelope.). Today he told me about getting a girls phone number last night at dinner because some other cadets were talking about condoms at dinner and my son reminded them they were in mixed company. The girl was so impressed that she gave my son her number. He said (to me) "Too bad she's not even a butterface." Made me laugh. He is a good person. (Even when he makes not nice comments about girls.)
He also told me about trying to make the sergeants laugh at taps (nightly bed check at midnight)Saturday night. He wore his headlamp and met the sergeants at the door. Have you seen the movie "Waiting"? Well, if you have, then you can guess what he was standing there doing. If you haven't seen it? Well, I'll say this, he was doing some origami. He did some push-ups for his choice of comedy. He said it was worth it though. He overheard the sergeants taking and laughing about it the next day.
He has mandatory study hall in his room from 8pm until midnight Sunday through Thursday, no tv, phones in the hall. He has bed check nightly at midnight. He has PT (physical training) mornings at 6:30, which is after his 5:45 am PT with the Ranger team. Then he is released at 8:00 am to shower and have breakfast and go to classes. He is studying Criminal Justice.
He has to wear a uniform 7 days a week until the first semester is over. Then he has to wear a uniform 5 days a week until retreat (5:00 pm, when they take down the American flag). Today is "civies" day. If you pay $3.00, you can wear civilian clothes. He is wearing jeans and an Elmo t-shirt. He said it was the best money he has ever spent. It is the first time he has been out of a uniform in a month. He said he thought he would walk the entire campus today because it would be easier. That confused me, so he explained that when he is in his uniform he has to salute officers and greet sergeants. In uniform, he also has to stop walking when using his cell phone for talking or texting. I thought that was interesting. So, he said he will gladly pay to wear his civies. It only happens once a month though. His favorite part of civies day? He can get hugs. He has dinner each night with the same girl. When she saw him in civies, she ran up and gave him a huge hug. She said "Aren't you glad you paid $3.00?" I guess she has asked everyday for four weeks if she could hug him. He keeps saying, "I could get into trouble." I think he could get into trouble either way...
I have thoroughly enjoyed parenting my kids. I get thrilled at their accomplishments. The first steps, first lost tooth. We celebrate report cards (sometimes)and sports games played well. I thought that high school graduation would bring an end to these thrilling parenting moments. I was so wrong! I am loving seeing the teenage boy I dropped off at college grow into a man. Physically he will be a different person when I see him at Christmas. Mentally, he already is. He makes me proud at every turn. He is making good choices. He is testing his limits, doing his laundry, taking care of himself. I am beaming with pride.
I still miss him greatly. We had a full, clean dishwasher for a few days because it was his turn to unload it. We have had to readjust the chore list for trash duty. I don't have anyone to argue with, or push my buttons. We have to drive his sisters everywhere now. I miss him. But, I am so proud of how he is creating HIS life. I am excited to see where it will lead him. I never thought I would enjoy this stage of parenting. I am so relieved to see I still can. The things he is doing leave me in awe. When that's your kid, that's a pretty cool experience.
Saturday, July 17, 2010
Teardrops on the Underwear
The laundry made me cry today. Not the sheer volume of it, which in general is overwhelming as I only do laundry once a week and there are six of us. I cried while I folded underwear. When I realized I was crying, I cried harder. How lame does one have to be to have underwear make you cry?
It started as I folded child #1's undies. I only have two more laundry days that will involve his undies. He is heading to college. Some people may jump for joy seeing some of their work load lessened. But, in this case, that is not me. Child #3 is growing so fast that all of her undies are too small. I know that, but I haven't bought her new ones yet. It's as if by refusing to buy new undies her growth will somehow stall. So far, it's not working and she regularly complains and shows me the indents her too small undies leave. In my mind, if I buy her new undies, she'll grow up faster and I will be crying again at the thought of doing her laundry for the last time.
Child #2 has cute undies(she is 16). They are the kind that 20 years ago I would have loved and probably worn. Then I fold my undies. I look at them and realize they are the type that were the punchline of jokes I told 20 years ago. I dab the tears. Child #4 is wearing undies, not diapers, and only one pair a day. Some days I celebrate these accomplishments, today, folding only seven pairs of his tiny undies, I miss the diapers. I miss the little kids.
My husband has the nicest undies in our house. I think that subconsciously I make sure his undies are in good condition. I mean, he is the one who makes the money in our house. He takes care of all of us. Nice undies is my way, I guess, of taking care of him. This makes me tear up again.
The laundry made me cry today. I cried because time passed so quickly. I cried because my kids have grown so fast. I cried because my body doesn't look right in cute undies anymore. I cried because I will miss child #1 and his undies so much when he is at college, even though there is no place else I'd rather him be right now. I cried because sooner than I want to think about, my house will always be clean and tidy and I will miss the mess, the noise and all the undies.
It started as I folded child #1's undies. I only have two more laundry days that will involve his undies. He is heading to college. Some people may jump for joy seeing some of their work load lessened. But, in this case, that is not me. Child #3 is growing so fast that all of her undies are too small. I know that, but I haven't bought her new ones yet. It's as if by refusing to buy new undies her growth will somehow stall. So far, it's not working and she regularly complains and shows me the indents her too small undies leave. In my mind, if I buy her new undies, she'll grow up faster and I will be crying again at the thought of doing her laundry for the last time.
Child #2 has cute undies(she is 16). They are the kind that 20 years ago I would have loved and probably worn. Then I fold my undies. I look at them and realize they are the type that were the punchline of jokes I told 20 years ago. I dab the tears. Child #4 is wearing undies, not diapers, and only one pair a day. Some days I celebrate these accomplishments, today, folding only seven pairs of his tiny undies, I miss the diapers. I miss the little kids.
My husband has the nicest undies in our house. I think that subconsciously I make sure his undies are in good condition. I mean, he is the one who makes the money in our house. He takes care of all of us. Nice undies is my way, I guess, of taking care of him. This makes me tear up again.
The laundry made me cry today. I cried because time passed so quickly. I cried because my kids have grown so fast. I cried because my body doesn't look right in cute undies anymore. I cried because I will miss child #1 and his undies so much when he is at college, even though there is no place else I'd rather him be right now. I cried because sooner than I want to think about, my house will always be clean and tidy and I will miss the mess, the noise and all the undies.
Wednesday, June 30, 2010
So Much to Say...
I have been keeping notes about things I want to write about. This is a bad idea. I stay awake at night and think up complete stories to write, but by morning they are mostly broken sentences, making no sense at all. I have a stack of napkins and scrap paper with my rambling thoughts written on them.
I think kids age like dogs. One adult (human) year equals 7 kid (dog) years. That would explain why my son is heading to college and I am only 27 1/2.
In the last week, I have received two emails from friends requesting that I vote for their friend so that the friend can win their own talk show. Interesting. I hadn't heard about that contest. I have never really thought about having my own talk show on TV. I have thought about being on a radio morning show. There was a really good one in Denver that I listened to all the time and loved. I could do that. But, on TV? Who would watch? But, the more I thought about it, the more I wished I had heard about this contest. I would have tried for it. I still don't know who would watch, but I have so many ideas.
My husband and I just took our oldest to freshman orientation (college). By the way...this is a completely new topic...has nothing to do with previous paragraphs...A few things struck me. #1) My kids will never survive a road trip with just their Dad. The reason? He NEVER wants to stop. Not for food. Not for bathroom breaks. Not for outlet malls. NEVER. He will stop for gas. If you need to stretch, use the bathroom or grab a snack, you have the amount of time it takes to pump 17 gallons of gas. That's it. If you're lucky. I think he times his stops for when we are napping so that he doesn't risk you taking longer in the bathroom. Or getting a drink. If you get a drink, you'll need to use a bathroom. You'll need to wait approximately 283 miles until the next gas stop.
The other thing that struck me (#2) on this trip was this; kids suck up a lot of your time each day. I don't know why this surprised me so much, but it did. I don't feel like I spend my whole day doing things for them, but I must spend more time than I thought. My husband and I had 2 nights and 3 days of no children. It was the first time we had that much childless time in 16 years. One morning we woke up, showered, had breakfast, then went for a hike to the top of a waterfall. It was a half mile, then 604 steps up, then one mile down. Then we walked around the gift shop and the ranger station. It was 11:30am when we got back to the car! I couldn't believe it. Then we went out to lunch and walked an entire, large, outlet mall. We got back to our hotel at 3pm. This was shocking to me. That seems like lots of stops in a day when you have 4 kids following you. I had so much free time that I read 17 magazines over the course of the 3 days and 2 nights. Some were dated 2007. That's the contrast...with kids,it takes me 3 years to read a single magazine. No kids, 17 magazines in 48 hours. I also took 2 showers a day. Two uninterrupted, hot, long showers a day. It was so nice. It helped pass the time. My life is pretty unexciting isn't it? Magazines and showers. Oh, Diet Coke too.
So, onto my last ramble for the evening...my parents were in town for my son's graduation. We were having a discussion about families we know. We talked about Aunts, Uncles, cousins and family friends that we have known for years and years (and years). We talked about the things our families have in common, and the way we differ. (NOTE: I mean no disrespect to anyone whom we were talking about. I truly believe that the world is more interesting BECAUSE people differ from each other. But, I DO like to talk about the hows and whys people are different.)
So anyway, I say to my Dad how thankful I am to have a normal family. That we have had normal experiences and do normal things. Now, I know that all (or most) people think their families are normal. I mean, if you live it, you are used to it and you think that is normal. Until someone tells you it's not...it's all a matter of opinion. Which made me think about my family. My parents have been married for 46 years. To me this is normal. They had three kids. To me this is normal. My brothers and I are all married, (and on our first marriages still). To me this is normal (however, I see we might be considered dull).
I realize that my parents, brothers and I can't ALL be normal...so I start to think more carefully. I have been married for 20 years and have four kids. I am a stay at home Mom. My oldest brother has no kids, and the younger one has one child. Both their wives work (out of the home).Thus, I have deemed myself NOT NORMAL. I am an overbreeder. My oldest brother just graduated with his Master's degree. My younger brother and I don't even have a bachelor's degree. Thus, I have deemed him, NOT NORMAL. He is an overachiever. This leaves my youngest brother. Apparently he is normal. I mean, we can't ALL be abnormal, can we? Nah. The funny thing is...if you know my youngest brother....well, you would see the humor...
I'm pretty sure that out of all the families we discussed, my family was the most normal. Uh-huh, yep, that's right. We are the most normal. The Overbreeder, the Overachiver and the Normal One. If any of you need a closer look at "normal", I'm thinking of booking my "normal" family on one of the first episodes of my TV talk show. But, don't hold your breath waiting for that to happen...that definitely isn't normal.
I think kids age like dogs. One adult (human) year equals 7 kid (dog) years. That would explain why my son is heading to college and I am only 27 1/2.
In the last week, I have received two emails from friends requesting that I vote for their friend so that the friend can win their own talk show. Interesting. I hadn't heard about that contest. I have never really thought about having my own talk show on TV. I have thought about being on a radio morning show. There was a really good one in Denver that I listened to all the time and loved. I could do that. But, on TV? Who would watch? But, the more I thought about it, the more I wished I had heard about this contest. I would have tried for it. I still don't know who would watch, but I have so many ideas.
My husband and I just took our oldest to freshman orientation (college). By the way...this is a completely new topic...has nothing to do with previous paragraphs...A few things struck me. #1) My kids will never survive a road trip with just their Dad. The reason? He NEVER wants to stop. Not for food. Not for bathroom breaks. Not for outlet malls. NEVER. He will stop for gas. If you need to stretch, use the bathroom or grab a snack, you have the amount of time it takes to pump 17 gallons of gas. That's it. If you're lucky. I think he times his stops for when we are napping so that he doesn't risk you taking longer in the bathroom. Or getting a drink. If you get a drink, you'll need to use a bathroom. You'll need to wait approximately 283 miles until the next gas stop.
The other thing that struck me (#2) on this trip was this; kids suck up a lot of your time each day. I don't know why this surprised me so much, but it did. I don't feel like I spend my whole day doing things for them, but I must spend more time than I thought. My husband and I had 2 nights and 3 days of no children. It was the first time we had that much childless time in 16 years. One morning we woke up, showered, had breakfast, then went for a hike to the top of a waterfall. It was a half mile, then 604 steps up, then one mile down. Then we walked around the gift shop and the ranger station. It was 11:30am when we got back to the car! I couldn't believe it. Then we went out to lunch and walked an entire, large, outlet mall. We got back to our hotel at 3pm. This was shocking to me. That seems like lots of stops in a day when you have 4 kids following you. I had so much free time that I read 17 magazines over the course of the 3 days and 2 nights. Some were dated 2007. That's the contrast...with kids,it takes me 3 years to read a single magazine. No kids, 17 magazines in 48 hours. I also took 2 showers a day. Two uninterrupted, hot, long showers a day. It was so nice. It helped pass the time. My life is pretty unexciting isn't it? Magazines and showers. Oh, Diet Coke too.
So, onto my last ramble for the evening...my parents were in town for my son's graduation. We were having a discussion about families we know. We talked about Aunts, Uncles, cousins and family friends that we have known for years and years (and years). We talked about the things our families have in common, and the way we differ. (NOTE: I mean no disrespect to anyone whom we were talking about. I truly believe that the world is more interesting BECAUSE people differ from each other. But, I DO like to talk about the hows and whys people are different.)
So anyway, I say to my Dad how thankful I am to have a normal family. That we have had normal experiences and do normal things. Now, I know that all (or most) people think their families are normal. I mean, if you live it, you are used to it and you think that is normal. Until someone tells you it's not...it's all a matter of opinion. Which made me think about my family. My parents have been married for 46 years. To me this is normal. They had three kids. To me this is normal. My brothers and I are all married, (and on our first marriages still). To me this is normal (however, I see we might be considered dull).
I realize that my parents, brothers and I can't ALL be normal...so I start to think more carefully. I have been married for 20 years and have four kids. I am a stay at home Mom. My oldest brother has no kids, and the younger one has one child. Both their wives work (out of the home).Thus, I have deemed myself NOT NORMAL. I am an overbreeder. My oldest brother just graduated with his Master's degree. My younger brother and I don't even have a bachelor's degree. Thus, I have deemed him, NOT NORMAL. He is an overachiever. This leaves my youngest brother. Apparently he is normal. I mean, we can't ALL be abnormal, can we? Nah. The funny thing is...if you know my youngest brother....well, you would see the humor...
I'm pretty sure that out of all the families we discussed, my family was the most normal. Uh-huh, yep, that's right. We are the most normal. The Overbreeder, the Overachiver and the Normal One. If any of you need a closer look at "normal", I'm thinking of booking my "normal" family on one of the first episodes of my TV talk show. But, don't hold your breath waiting for that to happen...that definitely isn't normal.
Friday, May 28, 2010
I Owe My Mom An Apology
I don't think I'm a bad person. I don't even think I was a bad teenager. I was not a great student, but I didn't fail classes (well, except German III, and that college computer class). I was social, but didn't go to parties where there was drinking (during high school). I did what my parents asked, followed the rules (except when I would come home a few minutes after curfew), kept my room clean. I was a good teenager.
OK, I was a good teenager physically. Emotionally, I was a moody teenager. Do I even need to say "moody teenager"? Is the "moody" a given when saying "teenager"? Anyway, I know I was moody. My Mom was probably the biggest target for my moods. Have a bad day at school? Yell at your Mom. Boyfriend trouble? Probably your Mom's fault. Yell at her. Want to hear your own voice, at a loud volume with obnoxious undertones? Try it out on your Mom. Bad hair day? Yell at your Mom...that makes it better.
My #2 child is a 16 yr old girl. She is a good teenager. She follows the rules. Has excellent grades. Social, but not a party-er. Has a job, plus babysits regularly. She is a good kid. She has a beautiful head of thick, wavy hair. She did not get this from me. I have thin, very straight hair. (and every day it gets thinner, so I am quite envious of her hair. But, I digress...).
I had my hair cut a few days ago. #2 went with me (no surprise, she goes everywhere with me, but that is another story...)and I mentioned to the girl who cuts my hair how yucky #2's hair was looking. You see, #2 looks as if she doesn't comb her hair. Ever. It really bothers me. I know if I say something to her that I will sound horrible. I know that if I (her Mom) criticize her hair, that it will in some way scar her. However, IT LOOKS TERRIBLE! Anyway, the girl who cuts my hair pulls out a book and shows #2 a photo. #2 likes the cut, so we make an appointment. That was yesterday at 4:30 pm. I mention the time so you can better appreciate what the last 15 hours have been like.
I think her haircut looks VERY nice. I like it A LOT. #2...not so much. In fact, this is the 3rd haircut she has gotten that she really doesn't like. OK, THAT she DOES get from me. I have a history of crying after my haircuts. I have haircut remorse frequently. I have set a bad example. Now I have bad example remorse. #2 left hair place before I had even paid. This was my clue that she didn't like it. Tears were in full swing by the time I got to car. We got home, she rushed to bathroom to wet hair down. She cried through dinner. She fussed with it and yelled about it and cried about about until she went to bed. I'm surprised she slept without yelling in her sleep.
This morning she came downstairs and she had straightened her hair. The hair that is wavy. The hair that was cut yesterday to be worn wavy. She also had part of it clipped back. It didn't look bad, but it didn't look as nice as her hair did upon leaving hair salon (I know, that's a given). Her comment was "I know you don't like it like this." Great, she wakes up and already feels she has disappointed me. So I say "It's fine." Because it was. Well, except for the long bangs in front of her face. I tried to bite my tongue. I really did. My #2 is a beautiful girl. I want her to feel beautiful. I want others to see her outside beauty. So I ask about the bangs. I should have bit my tongue harder.
Tears, loud voices (It's 6:10 am. I am not a morning person. #4 is still sleeping). She goes in bathroom and comes out saying "Is this better?" It wasn't. Tears, more yelling. I tell her it looks fine if she would tuck back the long piece from her face. She tells me all the things wrong with the haircut, how people are going to make fun of her. How her friends will say it looks nice, then turn away and make faces, talk about it,laugh. I wouldn't be 16 again if you paid me. (I would however pay to have my 16 yr old body back.)
What did I learn today? First, I am not taking #2 for anymore haircuts. This can be her responsibility from now on. Second, I am like my Mother. I understand my Mother. I wasn't criticizing. OK, I was criticizing, but it wasn't to be mean. It was to help #2 be the best she can be. I don't want her to walk around looking yucky. Third, I learned that I owe my Mother an apology. Well, probably LOTS of them, for all the times I yelled at her when I just needed to vent. For being angry at her for criticizing when she was just trying to help me be the best I can be. Mostly I WANT to apologize. I figure it is like a selfish "pay it forward" type thing. I figure if I apologize now to my Mom for being a moody teenager, that in 26 years, I'll get an apology from #2.
OK, I was a good teenager physically. Emotionally, I was a moody teenager. Do I even need to say "moody teenager"? Is the "moody" a given when saying "teenager"? Anyway, I know I was moody. My Mom was probably the biggest target for my moods. Have a bad day at school? Yell at your Mom. Boyfriend trouble? Probably your Mom's fault. Yell at her. Want to hear your own voice, at a loud volume with obnoxious undertones? Try it out on your Mom. Bad hair day? Yell at your Mom...that makes it better.
My #2 child is a 16 yr old girl. She is a good teenager. She follows the rules. Has excellent grades. Social, but not a party-er. Has a job, plus babysits regularly. She is a good kid. She has a beautiful head of thick, wavy hair. She did not get this from me. I have thin, very straight hair. (and every day it gets thinner, so I am quite envious of her hair. But, I digress...).
I had my hair cut a few days ago. #2 went with me (no surprise, she goes everywhere with me, but that is another story...)and I mentioned to the girl who cuts my hair how yucky #2's hair was looking. You see, #2 looks as if she doesn't comb her hair. Ever. It really bothers me. I know if I say something to her that I will sound horrible. I know that if I (her Mom) criticize her hair, that it will in some way scar her. However, IT LOOKS TERRIBLE! Anyway, the girl who cuts my hair pulls out a book and shows #2 a photo. #2 likes the cut, so we make an appointment. That was yesterday at 4:30 pm. I mention the time so you can better appreciate what the last 15 hours have been like.
I think her haircut looks VERY nice. I like it A LOT. #2...not so much. In fact, this is the 3rd haircut she has gotten that she really doesn't like. OK, THAT she DOES get from me. I have a history of crying after my haircuts. I have haircut remorse frequently. I have set a bad example. Now I have bad example remorse. #2 left hair place before I had even paid. This was my clue that she didn't like it. Tears were in full swing by the time I got to car. We got home, she rushed to bathroom to wet hair down. She cried through dinner. She fussed with it and yelled about it and cried about about until she went to bed. I'm surprised she slept without yelling in her sleep.
This morning she came downstairs and she had straightened her hair. The hair that is wavy. The hair that was cut yesterday to be worn wavy. She also had part of it clipped back. It didn't look bad, but it didn't look as nice as her hair did upon leaving hair salon (I know, that's a given). Her comment was "I know you don't like it like this." Great, she wakes up and already feels she has disappointed me. So I say "It's fine." Because it was. Well, except for the long bangs in front of her face. I tried to bite my tongue. I really did. My #2 is a beautiful girl. I want her to feel beautiful. I want others to see her outside beauty. So I ask about the bangs. I should have bit my tongue harder.
Tears, loud voices (It's 6:10 am. I am not a morning person. #4 is still sleeping). She goes in bathroom and comes out saying "Is this better?" It wasn't. Tears, more yelling. I tell her it looks fine if she would tuck back the long piece from her face. She tells me all the things wrong with the haircut, how people are going to make fun of her. How her friends will say it looks nice, then turn away and make faces, talk about it,laugh. I wouldn't be 16 again if you paid me. (I would however pay to have my 16 yr old body back.)
What did I learn today? First, I am not taking #2 for anymore haircuts. This can be her responsibility from now on. Second, I am like my Mother. I understand my Mother. I wasn't criticizing. OK, I was criticizing, but it wasn't to be mean. It was to help #2 be the best she can be. I don't want her to walk around looking yucky. Third, I learned that I owe my Mother an apology. Well, probably LOTS of them, for all the times I yelled at her when I just needed to vent. For being angry at her for criticizing when she was just trying to help me be the best I can be. Mostly I WANT to apologize. I figure it is like a selfish "pay it forward" type thing. I figure if I apologize now to my Mom for being a moody teenager, that in 26 years, I'll get an apology from #2.
Tuesday, April 27, 2010
I agree with Brad Paisley
Have you ever heard Brad Paisley sing "So Much Cooler Online"? I can relate to the song. I "talk" to several "friends" online. They are people I have met at one time or another in my life. Or people I haven't met but know much about through a mutual friend. Most of the people I chat with I haven't seen in 25 years! I have changed lots in 25 years. My weight is different. I am not as self conscious as I used to be (Well, except for the weight. And my personality. Maybe strike the previous statement). I am stronger emotionally. But, I am also not as caring, affectionate and sweet as I once was. But...online, I can be who I want, or who I think I am, as opposed to who I am in my day to day life. It's not like I'm taking on a persona...just going back in time to when I was a simpler person. When I didn't have bills to pay, dishes or laundry to do, kids to manage. Time in many ways has made me a better person. But time has also taken away some of the qualities I like most about myself, which brings me back to the song...online I can be the "old" me (funny 'cause it's really the young me!).
Online, people can't see my now 42 year old body. Perhaps they still picture me with my 18 year old body which unfortunately I didn't realize I had. I didn't appreciate it or use it to my advantage. Online, people see me as fun, caring, happy. AT least that's what I'm hoping. Again, I'm not pretending to be someone else...I AM all those things. But in day to day life, those things get buried under the dishes, laundry, kids, my weight. Online...all that other stuff isn't there.
Last night I was talking to a friend online. Someone I'm not sure I ever had a real conversation with before computers. He is in the process of writing a book about "regular" people and their stories. So we had this talk about how you want your story read and if you are living that life now. I think my life is just happening...I'm not living it, creating it. It was an interesting concept. I think I disappoint people in person that I haven't seen for awhile because so much of my "bubbly" is drained.
I need to merge my old (young)self, my cool, online self, and the current me. I need to create my life story the way I want it to read. That's so much to think about, to consider. What characters do you need to add depth to? Delete? Add? What adventures should you find? How will you handle tragedy?
I plan on trying to live my life as I want my story read. More laughter, less drama. (I must have forgotten I have three teenagers and a preschooler). More playtime, less housework. (Oh, I LIKE that one!) More learning, less worrying. (uh, huh...I said it, less worrying) I plan to revive my bubbly. I don't know HOW I'm going to do all this, but I'm going to try. You don't get a do over to your life story. I'm not liking these middle chapters. Time to shake things up, give the plot a twist.
How do you want your life story to read? What steps are you taking to make it read that way? Are you like me? So much cooler online? I want to be cooler in my day to day life. That sounds like a story I'd like to read.
Online, people can't see my now 42 year old body. Perhaps they still picture me with my 18 year old body which unfortunately I didn't realize I had. I didn't appreciate it or use it to my advantage. Online, people see me as fun, caring, happy. AT least that's what I'm hoping. Again, I'm not pretending to be someone else...I AM all those things. But in day to day life, those things get buried under the dishes, laundry, kids, my weight. Online...all that other stuff isn't there.
Last night I was talking to a friend online. Someone I'm not sure I ever had a real conversation with before computers. He is in the process of writing a book about "regular" people and their stories. So we had this talk about how you want your story read and if you are living that life now. I think my life is just happening...I'm not living it, creating it. It was an interesting concept. I think I disappoint people in person that I haven't seen for awhile because so much of my "bubbly" is drained.
I need to merge my old (young)self, my cool, online self, and the current me. I need to create my life story the way I want it to read. That's so much to think about, to consider. What characters do you need to add depth to? Delete? Add? What adventures should you find? How will you handle tragedy?
I plan on trying to live my life as I want my story read. More laughter, less drama. (I must have forgotten I have three teenagers and a preschooler). More playtime, less housework. (Oh, I LIKE that one!) More learning, less worrying. (uh, huh...I said it, less worrying) I plan to revive my bubbly. I don't know HOW I'm going to do all this, but I'm going to try. You don't get a do over to your life story. I'm not liking these middle chapters. Time to shake things up, give the plot a twist.
How do you want your life story to read? What steps are you taking to make it read that way? Are you like me? So much cooler online? I want to be cooler in my day to day life. That sounds like a story I'd like to read.
Wednesday, April 21, 2010
Rants in Waves
I have so many things on my mind lately. I had a mammogram yesterday. My 13 yr. old is burning through her cell phone minutes. I drink WAY too much diet coke. My daughter has had a headache and ear ache for nearly 5 weeks. My son graduates from high school in 6 weeks. I want to complete a photo album and a quilt for him before graduation. My son needs to be at college (some 10+ hours away) August 9th. We need to pay for college! My 25th high school class reunion is July 31st. I want to lose weight. I want to exercise. Oh the list goes on. And on. And on. I am tired. I think I am tired from all these thoughts. Maybe being tired is an effective means of procrastinating the above tasks.
Mammograms...I had a "baseline" one when I was 35. I didn't think it was as bad as people made it sound. I had another mammogram at 38. I had found a huge lump. I had an ultrasound then too. It was just a normal thickening due to hormonal changes...it was getting close to my period. Well, so we all thought. Actually, I was pregnant. (SURPRISE!) I have had annual mammograms the last 3 years. Yesterday was the first time I felt discomfort.
Maybe the discomfort was because it was the first time they didn't ask if I had implants. Talk about being humiliated! Thanks so much kids for the wear and tear on my previously perky boobs. So, the mammogram started out on a bummer. Then, the woman wanted my pectoral muscles in the "shot". So, she pulled, and tugged, and yanked. I think she got some back muscle too. Then she lowered the plexiglass and told me to say "when". She was going faster than I could holler. I think the machine begged for mercy at some point and the technician stopped squooshing. Then, you won't believe this...she said "Hold your breathe." If I had been physically able to laugh, I would have! I was not physically able to breathe. I think my lung was in that squoosher machine. So, I complete all 4 views and go back to get dressed. (and put on lotion and deodorant.) My whole chestal region is red and slightly welty. Then the technician says "If you feel discomfort, don't call your doctor. Just take what you would for a headache." So, I took some Tylenol for rest of the day. I was feeling discomfort. Having said that, I wouldn't change anything. Having a mammogram is important. The discomfort is temporary. It could save my life.
Then there's my 13 year old daughter. She is #3 in our family. She got a cell phone for Christmas. This was a really big deal...the other kids had to wait until high school. But #3 is involved in many school activities and we found ourselves waiting around a lot. She got a cell phone for MY convenience...not her enjoyment. I guess I failed to express that to her.
Our kids have Trac-phones. We buy minutes for them that last 90 days at a time. We buy a fair amount of minutes. I know it's a fair amount because in 4 years, child #1 has never run out of minutes. He has come close, but he watches and when necessary monitors them. We are strict about the cell phones. They can't use them at home. If they run out of minutes before the 90 days, they go without, or buy them themselves. But, like I said...in 4 years, this has ever happened. In 4 years, no one has lost a phone (knock on wood!). No one has run out of minutes. But WAIT! Child #3! She burned through her first 90 days of minutes in about 6 weeks. OK, I thought maybe I had done an accounting error. Maybe she misunderstood. So, I put on more minutes. Then I found out she was texting her boyfriend (Oh Lord, that is another story) after bed time which breaks several rules! So, I take the phone away. But, when she has a track meet at another school, I give her the phone. In two weeks...I said in TWO WEEKS, that girl burned through as many minutes as child #1 and child #2 use in 90 days!! Child #3 lost phone privileges until 9th grade. At the earliest. Guess we go back to waiting for her. Or she can wait for us...
All this makes me want a diet coke real bad. Time for a diet coke break. Ahhhhhh. But, that, I think, is a story for another time.
Mammograms...I had a "baseline" one when I was 35. I didn't think it was as bad as people made it sound. I had another mammogram at 38. I had found a huge lump. I had an ultrasound then too. It was just a normal thickening due to hormonal changes...it was getting close to my period. Well, so we all thought. Actually, I was pregnant. (SURPRISE!) I have had annual mammograms the last 3 years. Yesterday was the first time I felt discomfort.
Maybe the discomfort was because it was the first time they didn't ask if I had implants. Talk about being humiliated! Thanks so much kids for the wear and tear on my previously perky boobs. So, the mammogram started out on a bummer. Then, the woman wanted my pectoral muscles in the "shot". So, she pulled, and tugged, and yanked. I think she got some back muscle too. Then she lowered the plexiglass and told me to say "when". She was going faster than I could holler. I think the machine begged for mercy at some point and the technician stopped squooshing. Then, you won't believe this...she said "Hold your breathe." If I had been physically able to laugh, I would have! I was not physically able to breathe. I think my lung was in that squoosher machine. So, I complete all 4 views and go back to get dressed. (and put on lotion and deodorant.) My whole chestal region is red and slightly welty. Then the technician says "If you feel discomfort, don't call your doctor. Just take what you would for a headache." So, I took some Tylenol for rest of the day. I was feeling discomfort. Having said that, I wouldn't change anything. Having a mammogram is important. The discomfort is temporary. It could save my life.
Then there's my 13 year old daughter. She is #3 in our family. She got a cell phone for Christmas. This was a really big deal...the other kids had to wait until high school. But #3 is involved in many school activities and we found ourselves waiting around a lot. She got a cell phone for MY convenience...not her enjoyment. I guess I failed to express that to her.
Our kids have Trac-phones. We buy minutes for them that last 90 days at a time. We buy a fair amount of minutes. I know it's a fair amount because in 4 years, child #1 has never run out of minutes. He has come close, but he watches and when necessary monitors them. We are strict about the cell phones. They can't use them at home. If they run out of minutes before the 90 days, they go without, or buy them themselves. But, like I said...in 4 years, this has ever happened. In 4 years, no one has lost a phone (knock on wood!). No one has run out of minutes. But WAIT! Child #3! She burned through her first 90 days of minutes in about 6 weeks. OK, I thought maybe I had done an accounting error. Maybe she misunderstood. So, I put on more minutes. Then I found out she was texting her boyfriend (Oh Lord, that is another story) after bed time which breaks several rules! So, I take the phone away. But, when she has a track meet at another school, I give her the phone. In two weeks...I said in TWO WEEKS, that girl burned through as many minutes as child #1 and child #2 use in 90 days!! Child #3 lost phone privileges until 9th grade. At the earliest. Guess we go back to waiting for her. Or she can wait for us...
All this makes me want a diet coke real bad. Time for a diet coke break. Ahhhhhh. But, that, I think, is a story for another time.
Tuesday, April 6, 2010
Ordinary Days
In one of the hundreds of magazines I have piled to read when I have time (ha ha)I found a blurb about a book called "The Gift of an Ordinary Day". Coincidentally, the same week someone sent me a link to a video by the books author reading an excerpt from her book. The premise she has is what I always think about. (By the way, I didn't finish the book. It wasn't what I was hoping for...)
I started thinking about "ordinary days" as I am putting together a photo album for my oldest son. He is graduating from high school in 2 months! Several years ago, my photo album lady had a class about "Windows in Time" and how to create an album that would go from birth through graduation. I have prepared an album for all my kids, but my son's is the first I have started to put photos in. Anyway, it was recommended to get an accordion folder and divide the photos by album page title, so I did. The titles include things like; activities, friends, dances, religion, school, winter holidays, spring, birthdays etc.. So, as I am putting photos in, it strikes me how many photos I have in front of birthday cakes and Christmas trees. Dyeing Easter eggs, and characters at Disneyworld. What don't I have photos of? The very things I will miss the most about being a parent. The things that make a day "ordinary".
I have often thought about having a video camera somewhere to record an ordinary day. The most precious things to me are the morning snuggles, the teeth brushing, the tickle wars. The bedtime stories, the little, innocent faces when they are finally asleep. Eating dinner together at the table, swinging on the swings, playing Candyland. These are the things I will miss the most when my kids are grown. They are the things I have no photos of. It is interesting that what is the most dear to our day, we choose not to photograph. Or, perhaps we are having so much fun enjoying these things that it is foolish to stop doing them simply to pose for a picture.
So, I see the authors title painfully true. The true gifts can't be unwrapped on birthdays or Christmas or even "just because". The true gifts of parenting are the wonders and joys and even the tears of an ordinary day.
I started thinking about "ordinary days" as I am putting together a photo album for my oldest son. He is graduating from high school in 2 months! Several years ago, my photo album lady had a class about "Windows in Time" and how to create an album that would go from birth through graduation. I have prepared an album for all my kids, but my son's is the first I have started to put photos in. Anyway, it was recommended to get an accordion folder and divide the photos by album page title, so I did. The titles include things like; activities, friends, dances, religion, school, winter holidays, spring, birthdays etc.. So, as I am putting photos in, it strikes me how many photos I have in front of birthday cakes and Christmas trees. Dyeing Easter eggs, and characters at Disneyworld. What don't I have photos of? The very things I will miss the most about being a parent. The things that make a day "ordinary".
I have often thought about having a video camera somewhere to record an ordinary day. The most precious things to me are the morning snuggles, the teeth brushing, the tickle wars. The bedtime stories, the little, innocent faces when they are finally asleep. Eating dinner together at the table, swinging on the swings, playing Candyland. These are the things I will miss the most when my kids are grown. They are the things I have no photos of. It is interesting that what is the most dear to our day, we choose not to photograph. Or, perhaps we are having so much fun enjoying these things that it is foolish to stop doing them simply to pose for a picture.
So, I see the authors title painfully true. The true gifts can't be unwrapped on birthdays or Christmas or even "just because". The true gifts of parenting are the wonders and joys and even the tears of an ordinary day.
Tuesday, March 2, 2010
Control Freak or Just Plain Nuts?
I am a control freak. I admit it. I like things done MY way. I don't mean I control people and their behavior. But I do like to control the way the house runs, how it looks, how it's cleaned. I am definitely a freak about it, perhaps even nutty. People always say I should have my kids help wash dishes, clean bathrooms, do the laundry. WHAT?? Are they crazy?? Nobody will do it like I do. If it's not done MY way, won't the world as I know it end?? So, I stress myself out weekly, trying to get it all done, MY way. No help.
So, here is the trouble with MY way... first of all, I am not teaching my kids anything. #1 is getting ready to go to college. He has never washed the dishes (Unloaded dishwasher, yes. Loaded, no. Hand washed dishes, no), he has never cleaned a bathroom, never done laundry. My cleaning control issues are stunting my kids ability to be self sufficient. I have failed at this.
The other problem is that my way means starting in one corner of a room, touching every object, dusting/cleaning it. Opening each cabinet and drawer, reorganizing it. Dusting/cleaning each surface. It takes me too much time and is unnecessary. I end up each week with stuff we no longer need or use or I changed my mind. This pile goes to the basement. I don't always have the time, or make the time to do this type of housework each week. Then I stress that I didn't get it done. The really bad thing is that if I don't have time to clean this way, I don't clean at all. Ok, wait, my house is not dirty. It is a clean house and tidy too. When I say I don't clean at all, I mean MY way of cleaning which I think I have established is NUTTY!! The bottom line is that my basement is overflowing with stuff that needs to be sorted, but by the time I get through the rest of the house, I don't have the energy to get to the basement. Seriously, I have issues.
The reason I am writing about my messed up sense of cleaning is this...I have 3 teenagers. They need to learn to clean a house, take care of it. The basics, not the crazy Mom way. Also, because they are teenagers, they no longer want me cleaning their rooms. I am allowed to go in to change sheets and I'll vacuum if I can see the floor, but that is it. Kids #2 and 3 are girls. When I ask them to pick up their rooms or I'll do it, they throw everything in their closet and dust. OK, whatever, it looks better. #1 is a boy. When I ask him to pick up his room he tells me it's fine. This past Saturday he was gone all weekend. The dust in his room was starting to look like fur. The floor hadn't been vacuumed for awhile. To some people, maybe this is no big deal. To a control freak cleaner like me it was making my trigger finger VERY itchy. The time had come, I was going in. I cranked up some music, put a smile on my face and dug in. Now, I did have a voice in my head saying "He's going to be mad." I justified it by saying "I was helping him". I moved some furniture to make the room easier to maneuver around. I dusted, I folded all the clothes and put them back in the dresser. I didn't throw away anything aside from candy and granola bar wrappers (So THIS is where they all go!) I piled papers and magazines and books. I was NOT nosy, I folded and stacked and dusted and vacuumed. The room looked so much better. I was satisfied. Then HE came home.
The voice in my head was wrong. He wasn't mad. He was LIVID! He said he felt violated. I understood that. I couldn't get him to see that the furry dust was no longer ignorable. I did what any good Mom would do and intervene. Lots of words were exchanged. Things were said. It's a blur. I was wrong, I see that. It is his room, but it is also my house. I can't handle furry dust. The last thing he said was something like "I need to get away (or grow away) from you sometime." Well, that stung. Bad. I am not ready for this. I'm not ready for him to leave. In hind sight, my cleaning sneak attack was possibly a way to stay connected to my "no longer my baby" boy. My days of doing things like this for him are numbered. It makes me sad.
While still feeling the sting of his words, I walked out of his room, I might have slammed his door. I walked down the stairs, put on my coat and boots and announced I was going for a walk. My feelings were so hurt. I set myself up for the hurt.
I don't normally leave like this. I just couldn't breathe. I needed to escape. As I walked I decided life was messy and I had just run out of Bounty. In my head I bought some more Bounty (and Ben and Jerry's for good measure) and returned home.I needed to clean up my mess. Not the housework mess (seriously, his room looked great!) but the emotional mess. I decided that life is not only messy, but it hurts sometimes too. It's like Garth Brooks sings "I could have missed the pain, but I'd of had to miss the dance." And I do love dancing.
So, here is the trouble with MY way... first of all, I am not teaching my kids anything. #1 is getting ready to go to college. He has never washed the dishes (Unloaded dishwasher, yes. Loaded, no. Hand washed dishes, no), he has never cleaned a bathroom, never done laundry. My cleaning control issues are stunting my kids ability to be self sufficient. I have failed at this.
The other problem is that my way means starting in one corner of a room, touching every object, dusting/cleaning it. Opening each cabinet and drawer, reorganizing it. Dusting/cleaning each surface. It takes me too much time and is unnecessary. I end up each week with stuff we no longer need or use or I changed my mind. This pile goes to the basement. I don't always have the time, or make the time to do this type of housework each week. Then I stress that I didn't get it done. The really bad thing is that if I don't have time to clean this way, I don't clean at all. Ok, wait, my house is not dirty. It is a clean house and tidy too. When I say I don't clean at all, I mean MY way of cleaning which I think I have established is NUTTY!! The bottom line is that my basement is overflowing with stuff that needs to be sorted, but by the time I get through the rest of the house, I don't have the energy to get to the basement. Seriously, I have issues.
The reason I am writing about my messed up sense of cleaning is this...I have 3 teenagers. They need to learn to clean a house, take care of it. The basics, not the crazy Mom way. Also, because they are teenagers, they no longer want me cleaning their rooms. I am allowed to go in to change sheets and I'll vacuum if I can see the floor, but that is it. Kids #2 and 3 are girls. When I ask them to pick up their rooms or I'll do it, they throw everything in their closet and dust. OK, whatever, it looks better. #1 is a boy. When I ask him to pick up his room he tells me it's fine. This past Saturday he was gone all weekend. The dust in his room was starting to look like fur. The floor hadn't been vacuumed for awhile. To some people, maybe this is no big deal. To a control freak cleaner like me it was making my trigger finger VERY itchy. The time had come, I was going in. I cranked up some music, put a smile on my face and dug in. Now, I did have a voice in my head saying "He's going to be mad." I justified it by saying "I was helping him". I moved some furniture to make the room easier to maneuver around. I dusted, I folded all the clothes and put them back in the dresser. I didn't throw away anything aside from candy and granola bar wrappers (So THIS is where they all go!) I piled papers and magazines and books. I was NOT nosy, I folded and stacked and dusted and vacuumed. The room looked so much better. I was satisfied. Then HE came home.
The voice in my head was wrong. He wasn't mad. He was LIVID! He said he felt violated. I understood that. I couldn't get him to see that the furry dust was no longer ignorable. I did what any good Mom would do and intervene. Lots of words were exchanged. Things were said. It's a blur. I was wrong, I see that. It is his room, but it is also my house. I can't handle furry dust. The last thing he said was something like "I need to get away (or grow away) from you sometime." Well, that stung. Bad. I am not ready for this. I'm not ready for him to leave. In hind sight, my cleaning sneak attack was possibly a way to stay connected to my "no longer my baby" boy. My days of doing things like this for him are numbered. It makes me sad.
While still feeling the sting of his words, I walked out of his room, I might have slammed his door. I walked down the stairs, put on my coat and boots and announced I was going for a walk. My feelings were so hurt. I set myself up for the hurt.
I don't normally leave like this. I just couldn't breathe. I needed to escape. As I walked I decided life was messy and I had just run out of Bounty. In my head I bought some more Bounty (and Ben and Jerry's for good measure) and returned home.I needed to clean up my mess. Not the housework mess (seriously, his room looked great!) but the emotional mess. I decided that life is not only messy, but it hurts sometimes too. It's like Garth Brooks sings "I could have missed the pain, but I'd of had to miss the dance." And I do love dancing.
Thursday, February 18, 2010
Hard to Believe
I woke up yesterday morning with SO much energy. It's very unusual for me. The house was quiet, so I painted my nails, shaved my legs, ironed a bit, tidied up the house. Around 11 a.m. a friend from high school called. We hadn't talked for awhile, so it was good to hear from her. We talked for about 3 hours! When I hung up the phone I felt a strange twinge in my stomach. Oh, I should mention I am 39 weeks pregnant. My due date is 4 days away.
By 3 p.m., the twinges were occurring every 20 minutes. This was my first pregnancy. I didn't know what to expect. I didn't know what to do. I ate a light dinner. My husband went to bed at 10 p.m. At 11 p.m., I decided to try to sleep. The problem was that in the dark and silence of night, the twinges felt stronger. I was starting to get a bit nervous. Maybe even scared. At 11:30 p.m., I called my Dr. He said to wait until contractions were closer together. Well, I decided to take a shower. Then I packed my bags. Then I woke up my husband. We went to the hospital. I asked them to either send me home, or admit me. I didn't want to be there for hours, then dismissed. I had heard several women from Lamaze class talk about that. I didn't want that to happen to me. By 1 a.m., I was admitted.
I had an excellent student nurse, Jeanne. She kept me full of ice chips. I had an epidural. After 22 hours of "twinges", I finally was pushing out this person (we didn't know yet if it was a boy or girl) into my life. I was moments away from meeting the person who would make me a Mom. Twenty minutes later, I said "Hi D.J.". Mind you, his cord was not cut yet. I'm not even sure his feet were out yet. What struck me at that moment was a huge wave of exhaustion, a desperate need for a Diet Coke, and overwhelming joy. I sobbed. I smiled. I laughed. I was ready to do it over again. It was incredible. The next thing that struck me was I just called my son (doesn't that sound good? "my son") "D.J." I had wanted to name a boy "Garth". We had talked about POSSIBLY naming a boy after my husband and father-in-law, and calling him D.J. I was still leaning towards Garth. I was so surprised that I called him D.J., but it stuck. He was my D.J. He was my son.
We spent two nights in the hospital. I was over joyed. I can't remember a time I was ever so happy! When we took him home, we changed his diaper. He had been circumcised that morning. He looked sore. I cried. I squeezed some Vaseline on it. My husband took the tube and said "That's not enough" and squeezed a bunch more. Next thing you know, D.J.'s eye lids had pools of pee on them. Oh man did we laugh!
It's hard to believe this was all 18 years ago. Yes, my son, my D.J. turned 18 today.
I have had several hairstyles in eighteen years. My weight has changed. My style of dressing has changed. I have had 7 different jobs, done daycare for over 20 kids, been to Disneyworld twice. I have been to Germany and Paris, France. I've been a Bridesmaid three times. I know that time has passed. But to be the Mother of an 18 yr. old? It is hard to believe.
I have learned the in's and outs of Cub Scouts. I know the name of Pokemon characters. I build a mean Lego car. I have been knee deep in Mighty Beans and G.I.Joes. I have read all the Harry Potter books (over and over and over)and have watched "101 Dalmatians" hundreds of times. We have laughed and cried. O.K., he makes me laugh and cry. He made me a Mom. He has taught me pretty well. I do tend to be a rebellious student though, I often refuse to do the homework. If I do the homework, it means my son will grow more. I want him to stay little.
He has had tubes in his ears for multiple ear infections. He had his wisdom teeth removed. He has had 2 rather nasty broken arms (and 2 not so nasty broken arms too). He has had 3 surgeries on his arm and still needs one more. My son. My son who now is getting ready to graduate from High School. Then he plans on joining the military. It's so hard to believe.
My son, D.J., is smart. He is funny, witty. He is brave, unbelievably brave. He is responsible, well, unless he is swallowing straight pins or trying to light bleach on fire! This day should be all about him, his accomplishments. I keep thinking though about all the things I haven't done for him, with him. Have I done enough? I wanted to bake him cookies after school. I wanted to have Family Game Nights every week. I wanted to belong to a church. Have I done enough? My son is 18, have I done enough? It's hard to believe, but impossible to deny anymore. My son is 18.
By 3 p.m., the twinges were occurring every 20 minutes. This was my first pregnancy. I didn't know what to expect. I didn't know what to do. I ate a light dinner. My husband went to bed at 10 p.m. At 11 p.m., I decided to try to sleep. The problem was that in the dark and silence of night, the twinges felt stronger. I was starting to get a bit nervous. Maybe even scared. At 11:30 p.m., I called my Dr. He said to wait until contractions were closer together. Well, I decided to take a shower. Then I packed my bags. Then I woke up my husband. We went to the hospital. I asked them to either send me home, or admit me. I didn't want to be there for hours, then dismissed. I had heard several women from Lamaze class talk about that. I didn't want that to happen to me. By 1 a.m., I was admitted.
I had an excellent student nurse, Jeanne. She kept me full of ice chips. I had an epidural. After 22 hours of "twinges", I finally was pushing out this person (we didn't know yet if it was a boy or girl) into my life. I was moments away from meeting the person who would make me a Mom. Twenty minutes later, I said "Hi D.J.". Mind you, his cord was not cut yet. I'm not even sure his feet were out yet. What struck me at that moment was a huge wave of exhaustion, a desperate need for a Diet Coke, and overwhelming joy. I sobbed. I smiled. I laughed. I was ready to do it over again. It was incredible. The next thing that struck me was I just called my son (doesn't that sound good? "my son") "D.J." I had wanted to name a boy "Garth". We had talked about POSSIBLY naming a boy after my husband and father-in-law, and calling him D.J. I was still leaning towards Garth. I was so surprised that I called him D.J., but it stuck. He was my D.J. He was my son.
We spent two nights in the hospital. I was over joyed. I can't remember a time I was ever so happy! When we took him home, we changed his diaper. He had been circumcised that morning. He looked sore. I cried. I squeezed some Vaseline on it. My husband took the tube and said "That's not enough" and squeezed a bunch more. Next thing you know, D.J.'s eye lids had pools of pee on them. Oh man did we laugh!
It's hard to believe this was all 18 years ago. Yes, my son, my D.J. turned 18 today.
I have had several hairstyles in eighteen years. My weight has changed. My style of dressing has changed. I have had 7 different jobs, done daycare for over 20 kids, been to Disneyworld twice. I have been to Germany and Paris, France. I've been a Bridesmaid three times. I know that time has passed. But to be the Mother of an 18 yr. old? It is hard to believe.
I have learned the in's and outs of Cub Scouts. I know the name of Pokemon characters. I build a mean Lego car. I have been knee deep in Mighty Beans and G.I.Joes. I have read all the Harry Potter books (over and over and over)and have watched "101 Dalmatians" hundreds of times. We have laughed and cried. O.K., he makes me laugh and cry. He made me a Mom. He has taught me pretty well. I do tend to be a rebellious student though, I often refuse to do the homework. If I do the homework, it means my son will grow more. I want him to stay little.
He has had tubes in his ears for multiple ear infections. He had his wisdom teeth removed. He has had 2 rather nasty broken arms (and 2 not so nasty broken arms too). He has had 3 surgeries on his arm and still needs one more. My son. My son who now is getting ready to graduate from High School. Then he plans on joining the military. It's so hard to believe.
My son, D.J., is smart. He is funny, witty. He is brave, unbelievably brave. He is responsible, well, unless he is swallowing straight pins or trying to light bleach on fire! This day should be all about him, his accomplishments. I keep thinking though about all the things I haven't done for him, with him. Have I done enough? I wanted to bake him cookies after school. I wanted to have Family Game Nights every week. I wanted to belong to a church. Have I done enough? My son is 18, have I done enough? It's hard to believe, but impossible to deny anymore. My son is 18.
Friday, February 12, 2010
What got my panties in a bunch today
I have decided I am running for our school board. I have been on PTO boards for years and it's time to move on up. I am not popular on these types of boards. I am the voice of students, of common sense. Most school board and PTO members are the voice of money, questioning how to get more. It irritates me.
The problem here is that our state law is for school to be in session for 180 days per school year. What this REALLY means is that one attendance is taken, the school day counts. Any days a school board puts on the calendar more than the necessary 180 is worth more money to the district. Many schools plan for over 180 days. This year our school planned on 189 days. We have 2 days for Spring Break. We had 3 days over Thanksgiving. We start around August 25th each year and go through about June 5th each year. My complaint is this, we have had 4 snow days this week. Our county is under a State of Emergency. We need to make up at least 2 of these snow days. But, what really irritates me is that after 4 days off, they have school on Friday. Well, they have a 2 hour delay on Friday which means 30 minute class periods. Monday is a Holiday, no school. Tel me, how much learning will happen today? Four days off, 30 minute class periods, three day weekend. Today is a waste of energy for teachers, students, and all other school workers. But, kids were there for attendance, so the district gets their money. Money is more important than learning today. Money is more important than safety today too. Our streets are not plowed wide enough for kids to walk on while a car drives past. So, my kids are walking to the bus stop on icy streets, covered in 3 inches of slush. If they encounter a passing car they will either get splashed by slush, or they can stand in a snow bank. Did I mention we have about 30+ inches of snow? The school posted warnings on emails and on their T.V. station about using caution when driving and that there is not many parking spots, so ride the buses. If that is really needed, shouldn't the kids be home, safe? Ugh.
The real problem aside from money is this...people want their kids to be in school. Not for an education, but to get them out of their hair. I used to work a part time job. One evening I was there when I heard that the next day would be a snow day. SEVERAL people were suddenly in an uproar. They didn't want their kids at home, they had stuff planned, what were they going to do about work? Really? I understand that work is important. I understand that you need to go to work to earn money to buy stuff for your kids. But, work more important than your family? I don't get it. I cherish having my kids at home. I am one of those Moms that love summer vacation. I have cried more first days of school than I would like to admit. I actually like being a Mom. I am not a Mom so that people think better of me. I am not a Mom because it is what I thought I should do. I am a Mom because it is what I wanted to do. I wanted to spend time with my kids. I want to be the one who teaches them to count, to write their name, to tie their shoes. I would financially be better off if I had a paying job away from the house. My kids could take more piano lessons, be on more sports teams, go to summer camp if I had a paying job. But, I think spending time with my family is priceless. I can always go back to a paying job. I can't go back to having a 3 year old.
So, the fact that I feel like my school board has put a dollar sign over my childrens heads is very angering. Keeping kids home for one more snow day, for safety and for common sense today would have made me so much happier. I just feel like the school board was collecting the pennies as the buses unloaded this morning. I could have kept them home and collected some memories. It saddens me that so many people would rather not spend time with their kids. That snow days (or their childs illness) is an inconvience they would rather not deal with. Tell me, what part of parenting IS convenient? I didn't know convenient was part of the parent vocabulary.
Yes, I am going to run for the School Board. I need to knock some sense into people. Enjoy your kids. They grow fast. They will remember one well played snow day with their Mom way longer than they will remember the lesson they learned in a semester of Chemistry.
The problem here is that our state law is for school to be in session for 180 days per school year. What this REALLY means is that one attendance is taken, the school day counts. Any days a school board puts on the calendar more than the necessary 180 is worth more money to the district. Many schools plan for over 180 days. This year our school planned on 189 days. We have 2 days for Spring Break. We had 3 days over Thanksgiving. We start around August 25th each year and go through about June 5th each year. My complaint is this, we have had 4 snow days this week. Our county is under a State of Emergency. We need to make up at least 2 of these snow days. But, what really irritates me is that after 4 days off, they have school on Friday. Well, they have a 2 hour delay on Friday which means 30 minute class periods. Monday is a Holiday, no school. Tel me, how much learning will happen today? Four days off, 30 minute class periods, three day weekend. Today is a waste of energy for teachers, students, and all other school workers. But, kids were there for attendance, so the district gets their money. Money is more important than learning today. Money is more important than safety today too. Our streets are not plowed wide enough for kids to walk on while a car drives past. So, my kids are walking to the bus stop on icy streets, covered in 3 inches of slush. If they encounter a passing car they will either get splashed by slush, or they can stand in a snow bank. Did I mention we have about 30+ inches of snow? The school posted warnings on emails and on their T.V. station about using caution when driving and that there is not many parking spots, so ride the buses. If that is really needed, shouldn't the kids be home, safe? Ugh.
The real problem aside from money is this...people want their kids to be in school. Not for an education, but to get them out of their hair. I used to work a part time job. One evening I was there when I heard that the next day would be a snow day. SEVERAL people were suddenly in an uproar. They didn't want their kids at home, they had stuff planned, what were they going to do about work? Really? I understand that work is important. I understand that you need to go to work to earn money to buy stuff for your kids. But, work more important than your family? I don't get it. I cherish having my kids at home. I am one of those Moms that love summer vacation. I have cried more first days of school than I would like to admit. I actually like being a Mom. I am not a Mom so that people think better of me. I am not a Mom because it is what I thought I should do. I am a Mom because it is what I wanted to do. I wanted to spend time with my kids. I want to be the one who teaches them to count, to write their name, to tie their shoes. I would financially be better off if I had a paying job away from the house. My kids could take more piano lessons, be on more sports teams, go to summer camp if I had a paying job. But, I think spending time with my family is priceless. I can always go back to a paying job. I can't go back to having a 3 year old.
So, the fact that I feel like my school board has put a dollar sign over my childrens heads is very angering. Keeping kids home for one more snow day, for safety and for common sense today would have made me so much happier. I just feel like the school board was collecting the pennies as the buses unloaded this morning. I could have kept them home and collected some memories. It saddens me that so many people would rather not spend time with their kids. That snow days (or their childs illness) is an inconvience they would rather not deal with. Tell me, what part of parenting IS convenient? I didn't know convenient was part of the parent vocabulary.
Yes, I am going to run for the School Board. I need to knock some sense into people. Enjoy your kids. They grow fast. They will remember one well played snow day with their Mom way longer than they will remember the lesson they learned in a semester of Chemistry.
Monday, February 8, 2010
Who are you?
Some mornings I look in the mirror and am so confused. When did I start to look like my Mom?(My Mom is a lovely woman , who looks younger than her age. My comments in no way mean she has all these "ailments" that I am complaining about...) I have always looked younger than my actual age. Sometimes I liked that, sometimes, not so much. The older I got though, the more I LOVED that I looked younger. But, much like the switch a teen flips at age 13 and becomes an alien life form, I flipped a switch (unintentionally!) at age 40 and became an old lady. Suddenly, my hair is thinning. My eyebrows are falling out. My neck has so many wrinkles that I resemble elephant skin. Don't even get me started on my hands! Ugh. I am not handling aging well. I have had blood work done and my hair and eyebrow issue is not health related, which I'm glad about, but at least then there was a possible fix. I look my age now. I don't like it.
When I went to my 10 year class reunion I had had 2 kids. I was thinner than I was at graduation. I looked awesome. Now, I have had 4 kids. I am over 40. I used to be able to say "I need to lose weight." and BAM! 5 pounds were gone. Now I say "I need to lose weight." And I get stressed because I know it's going to be hard. I panic. I eat the tube of chocolate chip cookie dough and gain another 3 pounds. A few years ago I started running. I really like running. It's quiet when you go out for a run. The trouble with running is you have to have time. Not only time to run, but time to change your clothes, stretch, drink water, go to the bathroom because you drank water. (I have had 4 kids. I cannot even think about running with fluid in my bladder. Or jumping on a trampoline. Or sneezing.) Then you have to have time to clean up after run. The other issue is that I like to run outside, not on a treadmill. So, then you are dependant on the weather. I am not a cold weather runner. I am not a cold weather outside goer. The bottom line is that I need to lose weight. The bottom bottom line is that I like to eat and be warm and not look for time to get all sweaty.
I know I should look at my face like Martina McBride sings..."Every last laugh line on your face, Made you who you are today." But I don't. I look at it and think "When did this happen? Who did this to you? At what point did your skin scream 'mercy!'? What are you going to do about it?" I look at my body and think I should be grateful that it has carried me through 40+ years. It is healthy. It took me through years of dance, the abuse high school pom pom put on it. It managed 4 healthy pregnancies and 4 spectacular deliveries . OK, I am grateful and respectful and actually, in awe. It is amazing that my body has done all that. I would be more grateful if I could still rock the braless look. Now I have to put a bra on before I can button and zip my pants. I had drawsting pajama pants on a few nights ago. That was an adventure at 2 in the morning. I am not handling aging well.
I don't know why my appearance aged so quickly. Maybe it's my diet. Maybe I handle stress poorly. Maybe it was my time. I just know that when I look in the mirror I can't see me. I am thrilled though that my Mom has come for a visit. Oh wait, I guess it's me.
When I went to my 10 year class reunion I had had 2 kids. I was thinner than I was at graduation. I looked awesome. Now, I have had 4 kids. I am over 40. I used to be able to say "I need to lose weight." and BAM! 5 pounds were gone. Now I say "I need to lose weight." And I get stressed because I know it's going to be hard. I panic. I eat the tube of chocolate chip cookie dough and gain another 3 pounds. A few years ago I started running. I really like running. It's quiet when you go out for a run. The trouble with running is you have to have time. Not only time to run, but time to change your clothes, stretch, drink water, go to the bathroom because you drank water. (I have had 4 kids. I cannot even think about running with fluid in my bladder. Or jumping on a trampoline. Or sneezing.) Then you have to have time to clean up after run. The other issue is that I like to run outside, not on a treadmill. So, then you are dependant on the weather. I am not a cold weather runner. I am not a cold weather outside goer. The bottom line is that I need to lose weight. The bottom bottom line is that I like to eat and be warm and not look for time to get all sweaty.
I know I should look at my face like Martina McBride sings..."Every last laugh line on your face, Made you who you are today." But I don't. I look at it and think "When did this happen? Who did this to you? At what point did your skin scream 'mercy!'? What are you going to do about it?" I look at my body and think I should be grateful that it has carried me through 40+ years. It is healthy. It took me through years of dance, the abuse high school pom pom put on it. It managed 4 healthy pregnancies and 4 spectacular deliveries . OK, I am grateful and respectful and actually, in awe. It is amazing that my body has done all that. I would be more grateful if I could still rock the braless look. Now I have to put a bra on before I can button and zip my pants. I had drawsting pajama pants on a few nights ago. That was an adventure at 2 in the morning. I am not handling aging well.
I don't know why my appearance aged so quickly. Maybe it's my diet. Maybe I handle stress poorly. Maybe it was my time. I just know that when I look in the mirror I can't see me. I am thrilled though that my Mom has come for a visit. Oh wait, I guess it's me.
Monday, January 25, 2010
Still Learning
This blogging thing puzzles me. It's kinda like a diary, but meant for others to read. Who really wants to read my ramblings? I can hardly get people to hear them out of my mouth, why bother with on a screen? Anyway, maybe it will clear my head to have them on the computer instead of sloshing inside my brain. I haven't slept in 3 nights with the thoughts wrestling around.
I just "friend requested" (on Facebook) a person from high school that I never really hung out with, but we were in the school musicals together and we tend to post on the same people's walls. I know facebook speak, but anyway, she has a blog. I read her blog and it gave me some insight into what would work for my blog.
Today's blog title is "Still Learning." I am still learning this blog thing. But I am also still learning about being me, being a wife (really, after 20 yrs. I still am not good at it) and being a Mom. The Mom one is my biggest struggle. I think I have it figured out, but then there's a new stage of development, or a different kid. I think the reason kids don't come with Manuals is because they would read like this..
Day 1: Today I will sleep. When I cry, I don't know what I want, I'm only a few hours old. Hold me, feed me, change me, repeat. Often.
Day 385: I will be taking my first step today. Don't panic if I fall and cry. Clap when I figure it out. Take some photos because I'm not going to remember this!
Day 2136: When I lose my tooth later today I am going to misplace it. It's OK if you tell me to just leave a note, the Tooth Fairy will understand.
Day 4745: I'm officially a teenager. Don't dance in public. Actually, don't look at me in public. Can you just not go in public?
OK, so you have the manual down, right? Guess what? Kid #2 comes and the previous manual doesn't work. This kid operates differently. Their manual reads like this...
Day 1: Isn't my cry the loveliest sound you've ever heard? I hope you like it, I don't plan on stopping for about 6 months. Don't try to hold me, feed me, change me. It won't help. And God help me, don't put me in that swing!
Day 399: I don't care that my brother was walking by now. No, I don't know when I'll start.
Day 2135: AHHHHH!!! My mouth hurts so bad! What is the pain! Why is there blood? What is wrong with the teeth I have? You said you liked my teeth! promise I brush them! Why didn't you tell me it would be like this? You are so mean!
Day 4745: Mom, thank you so much for washing my laundry. I love when I can wear this shirt. Aren't the rainbows and ponies lovely? Will you drive me to school and walk me to the door? Please?
See? Just when you think you've learned it, the kid changes all the rules. Each kid has different rules and they change the rules when they feel the need. No wonder us Moms overeat, under sleep and have gray hair. The worry about getting it right for our kids! Ugh.
So, this brings me to today...Child #1 needs a check to order his Graduation Announcements.
Child #2 so far, so good with this one...but it's early yet...
Child #3 She's the tricky one. She is a kid that when people see her they say "Where is her Mother?" She dresses funky, she acts funky, she is a mystery to me. So, today the school nurse calls me. Seems #3 twisted her ankle on FRIDAY when getting off the bus. She goes back to nurse today (Monday) to say it is still hurting. WHAT?!? Nurse asks #3 why she didn't get it checked over weekend. #3 says "Well, sometimes my Mom doesn't believe me." Great. I expect social sevices to do a complete evaluation now. How embarrassing. I tell the nurse that #3 loves to see the school nurse and she probaby didn't tell me about the ankle because I told her not to go to nurse anymore (7 times in 18 weeks so far) unless there was blood or vomit. I explained that #3 has a flair for the dramatic. Not sure if all my talking was making it better or worse. How embarrassing. Do you think a manual would help in these cases? I didn't think so.
Child #4 He wants to know if animals sleep. He wants to know where they sleep. He thinks it's funny that gorillas sleep in nests like birds. He wants to know where animals live if they aren't in the zoo. We look for a book about Africa. Did I mention it's only 7:30am?
Here's what I want to learn today...Why did #1 grow up so fast? Where truly did the time go? How is it possible that I was blessed with #2? When will I EVER figure out #3? She was so adorable at age 3...why oh why did she go astray at age 13?? Why the fascination with the nurse? Where IS her Mother? And finally, why do gorillas sleep in nests? Why do I need to know ANYTHING at 7:30 am? I am still learning. I have so much to learn. God help me.
I just "friend requested" (on Facebook) a person from high school that I never really hung out with, but we were in the school musicals together and we tend to post on the same people's walls. I know facebook speak, but anyway, she has a blog. I read her blog and it gave me some insight into what would work for my blog.
Today's blog title is "Still Learning." I am still learning this blog thing. But I am also still learning about being me, being a wife (really, after 20 yrs. I still am not good at it) and being a Mom. The Mom one is my biggest struggle. I think I have it figured out, but then there's a new stage of development, or a different kid. I think the reason kids don't come with Manuals is because they would read like this..
Day 1: Today I will sleep. When I cry, I don't know what I want, I'm only a few hours old. Hold me, feed me, change me, repeat. Often.
Day 385: I will be taking my first step today. Don't panic if I fall and cry. Clap when I figure it out. Take some photos because I'm not going to remember this!
Day 2136: When I lose my tooth later today I am going to misplace it. It's OK if you tell me to just leave a note, the Tooth Fairy will understand.
Day 4745: I'm officially a teenager. Don't dance in public. Actually, don't look at me in public. Can you just not go in public?
OK, so you have the manual down, right? Guess what? Kid #2 comes and the previous manual doesn't work. This kid operates differently. Their manual reads like this...
Day 1: Isn't my cry the loveliest sound you've ever heard? I hope you like it, I don't plan on stopping for about 6 months. Don't try to hold me, feed me, change me. It won't help. And God help me, don't put me in that swing!
Day 399: I don't care that my brother was walking by now. No, I don't know when I'll start.
Day 2135: AHHHHH!!! My mouth hurts so bad! What is the pain! Why is there blood? What is wrong with the teeth I have? You said you liked my teeth! promise I brush them! Why didn't you tell me it would be like this? You are so mean!
Day 4745: Mom, thank you so much for washing my laundry. I love when I can wear this shirt. Aren't the rainbows and ponies lovely? Will you drive me to school and walk me to the door? Please?
See? Just when you think you've learned it, the kid changes all the rules. Each kid has different rules and they change the rules when they feel the need. No wonder us Moms overeat, under sleep and have gray hair. The worry about getting it right for our kids! Ugh.
So, this brings me to today...Child #1 needs a check to order his Graduation Announcements.
Child #2 so far, so good with this one...but it's early yet...
Child #3 She's the tricky one. She is a kid that when people see her they say "Where is her Mother?" She dresses funky, she acts funky, she is a mystery to me. So, today the school nurse calls me. Seems #3 twisted her ankle on FRIDAY when getting off the bus. She goes back to nurse today (Monday) to say it is still hurting. WHAT?!? Nurse asks #3 why she didn't get it checked over weekend. #3 says "Well, sometimes my Mom doesn't believe me." Great. I expect social sevices to do a complete evaluation now. How embarrassing. I tell the nurse that #3 loves to see the school nurse and she probaby didn't tell me about the ankle because I told her not to go to nurse anymore (7 times in 18 weeks so far) unless there was blood or vomit. I explained that #3 has a flair for the dramatic. Not sure if all my talking was making it better or worse. How embarrassing. Do you think a manual would help in these cases? I didn't think so.
Child #4 He wants to know if animals sleep. He wants to know where they sleep. He thinks it's funny that gorillas sleep in nests like birds. He wants to know where animals live if they aren't in the zoo. We look for a book about Africa. Did I mention it's only 7:30am?
Here's what I want to learn today...Why did #1 grow up so fast? Where truly did the time go? How is it possible that I was blessed with #2? When will I EVER figure out #3? She was so adorable at age 3...why oh why did she go astray at age 13?? Why the fascination with the nurse? Where IS her Mother? And finally, why do gorillas sleep in nests? Why do I need to know ANYTHING at 7:30 am? I am still learning. I have so much to learn. God help me.
Saturday, January 16, 2010
Diet Coke Chronicles
My son suggested the title of this blog. I have a Diet Coke addiction. Seriously, I do. I drink 5 or 6 cans a day. As soon as I wake up, I reach for my first can, then I "chain" drink them. I love how the soda makes me smile. Calms me. Makes me say "Aahh." I have a great Diet Coke story to tell, but I have been advised to talk to some Marketing Execs first. My life, it's either a commercial (mostly for why birth control is important, I think) or a sitcom. Guess I should be thankful it's not a drama. Well, commercial, sitcom or drama, I will always have my Diet Coke to soothe me and get me through. There will be other posts with this title, I'm sure. Diet Coke is a big part of my daily life!
Friday, January 15, 2010
In The Beginning
Today is the beginning of my adventures in blogging. How humbling it is to have your son show you the ropes! It took me several tries to figure out what I was posting where, and I'm sure I'll make adjustments along the way. It's how I raise my kids too. The oldest was on such a good schedule. Went to bed every night at 7:30p.m. after a bath, teeth scrubbing and book. Ok, not really, but we tried. Baby #2 arrived and the schedule was adjusted. By child #4, the schedule is adjusted so much that I pat myself on the back if all 4 kids are dressed by noon, fed 3 meals each day and are in bed before I fall asleep. Life (and I suppose that now includes blogging) is full of adjustments. But for today, the blog seems fine. The kids are dressed (and it's only 11a.m.!!) they have eaten breakfast and are now bugging about their next feeding. So currently no adjustments are needed. whew.
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