The things that trigger memories are so interesting. Some are obvious, so not so much. Sometimes, once one memory is triggered, an avalanche of memories comes tumbling through your brain.
I was packing up my basement for an eventual move. I came across an orange box with Miss Piggy stickers all over it. The box is from a trip I took with Girl Scouts between 8th grade and Freshman year of high school. We were gone for two weeks. We were only allowed to pack one beer crate sized box. I found a beer crate box, and painted it orange and adorned it with Miss Piggy stickers. Here it is MANY years later (I currently have a daughter the same age I was when I took the trip)and I have saved the box. I cannot imagine packing for two weeks into a box this size. I wonder how many tantrums I threw trying to prepare for the trip.
Finding the box started an avalanche of memories. Riding in one of the leader's Jeep's from Michigan to Wyoming. One of my fellow scout's parents were chaperones, they had rented a camper that we took turns riding in. We stopped at the other leader's cousins farms and saw a bull named Patrick. We went to a rodeo and had to wear our vests IN PUBLIC. We went to Laura Ingalls Wilders home or something, saw Devil's Tower, Wall Drug, Mount Rushmore. The silly orange Miss Piggy box just created this flood of memories. It was such a wonderful trip. Days after coming across it, I had another memory flash this morning. I was putting lotion on and remembered another fellow scout shaving her legs in the dust and dryness of Wyoming with lotion and a razor. It was so gross because there was dust everywhere. But, we were only allowed a few three minute showers the week were we in Wyoming. It really was the only option available if you wanted hairless legs.
The magic of technology has put me in touch with my two Girl Scout leaders who in their youth took a bunch of teenage girls on a two week journey that spanned several states. One of my leaders uses a photo from that trip as her facebook profile photo. The other leader has photos from that trip in her facebook photo albums. I have reconnected with several other fellow scouts on facebook. I wonder if they think about that trip as frequently as I do. I wonder what triggers their memories of it.
My beloved mini van turned 100,000 miles this week. The memories of buying the van rush into my mind. Hitting 100,000 miles coincided with the van's 9th birthday. We bought the van because our old van didn't have enough chutzpah to make the journey from our at the time home in Colorado to my brother's wedding in New York. The van was my first new car purchase. I picked it out, test drove it and fell in love. I still love that car, although my driving allegiances are starting to sway to another car in our garage. When the can hit 100,000 miles, I gave the dashboard a rubdown and thanked the van for safely getting us where we need to be, so many times. We celebrated the 100,000 mile mark by going back to New York, to see Niagara Falls (again) and celebrate my brother's anniversary and my nieces 7th birthday.
Seeing Niagara Falls triggered a bunch of memories too. I have been there before with my kids. I have been there with Girl Scouts. I have been there with my parents. But the memory that was at the front of my mind was a quick stop there with marching band in high school. I can't even remember WHY we stopped there, but I have this snapshot of a memory in my head of being there with the band.
The troubling thing about memories is they seem slightly out of control. You don't seem to be able to adjust what goes into your memory, what stays, or the length of time something might choose to stay in your memory. You also don't seem to be able to recall memories at will, or control what will trigger an avalanche of memories pouring into your current day. I guess all we DO have control of is the material available to create memories for yourself, and for those around you. Of course, that is a bit scary! I know my kids have less than pleasant memories of me and some of my behaviors. But hopefully they are well balanced with good memories of all the wisdom I present them with and all the fun, cool things we have done together. What? I can dream that my kids memories will only possess GOOD memories of me, can't I? Well, maybe I will just be careful not to trigger the bad memories of me. :)
Tuesday, July 26, 2011
Thursday, May 19, 2011
Going Dogless...part 2
Some things aren't meant to last forever. We have been dogless for 90 days. In that amount of time I have cried. I have been down. I have called the dogs to go out for their "last call" of the evening only to wind up laughing at myself because there aren't dogs in the house. My husband has patted his chair, his way of calling the dog up into his chair. Of course, his lap remains empty.
We have read craiglist, ebay classified, our local paper. We have been to pet stores. We comment on every dog we see. We walk around the neighborhood saying "They have a dog." in a completely dejected voice. We have thought of the next dog. We have considered breed, gender, size, names and when to adopt. Since our house is on the market in preparation to move 1,500 miles, we have decided it best to wait to adopt a new dog until we move.
But, it's been 90 lonely days. Oh, and child #1 came home from college. That re-energized the feeling of missing having a dog.
On Sunday, my husband flipped the t.v. to some channel that was hosted by the local humane society. They were showing all the pets up for adoption. My 5 year had tears streaming down his adorable little cheeks. I'm pretty sure my 19 year old was drooling. Next thing I know, we are in the car (after a phone call) to drive an hour and a half to pick up some mix breed, female dog that will grow to be bigger than the plan. Let's not even mention that WE HAVE NOT MOVED YET!
To recap; the plan was to wait until we moved. My plan also included getting a dog that as an adult would weigh under 30 pounds. It would be a male dog named "Barney".
What did we get? A female dog that was listed as a Saint Bernard/Shepherd mix. I am a pushover. A sucker. (You know, one is born every minute.)
Before I panicked too much over how HUGE and HAIRY this dog was going to be, we saw both parents. I am not sure how they came up with Saint Bernard and Shepherd. What I saw in front of me was two medium sized, mixed breed dogs. I also saw three delighted children. (child #3 is NOT into animals, she was just along for the ride).
Our new puppy is some random mixed breed. I wanted to name her "Heinz" (as in 57 varieties)as a reminder of her roots...both breed wise and that we live in Pittsburgh and Heinz is a Pittsburgh brand.
Trying to name a puppy is always a bit of a challenge. When you consider the fact that this was a spur of the moment (STUPID) decision, and that we had 6 people in the car trying to agree, the name choice took 36 hours. Finally I picked what name child #4 and I liked best. After all, we are the people who will ultimately spend the most time with her. We named her 'Flynn', one of the main characters in the Disney movie "Tangled". OK, Flynn is a boy in that movie and the dog is a girl. I googled Flynn though and found out that Flynn is in the top 100 names for girls in Britain. Plus, it's a dog and Flynn is better than being named "Booger" or "Reptar" which is what the boys wanted to name her.
We are only on day four of having a dog again. So far, I can't remember why I wanted another dog. I have slept on the kitchen floor next to the kennel to stop her from screaming. I have soaked up her accidents with paper towel. I have yelled at her to stop chasing the cats and to stop jumping on child #4 (who has been yelled at to stop running because that entices the dog to chase)and to stop chewing on my furniture. Must be the look in her eye and the wag of her tail that makes me think there will be a day 5 of having a dog again.
In the meantime, I am thinking of changing my name to "Sucker" officially.
We have read craiglist, ebay classified, our local paper. We have been to pet stores. We comment on every dog we see. We walk around the neighborhood saying "They have a dog." in a completely dejected voice. We have thought of the next dog. We have considered breed, gender, size, names and when to adopt. Since our house is on the market in preparation to move 1,500 miles, we have decided it best to wait to adopt a new dog until we move.
But, it's been 90 lonely days. Oh, and child #1 came home from college. That re-energized the feeling of missing having a dog.
On Sunday, my husband flipped the t.v. to some channel that was hosted by the local humane society. They were showing all the pets up for adoption. My 5 year had tears streaming down his adorable little cheeks. I'm pretty sure my 19 year old was drooling. Next thing I know, we are in the car (after a phone call) to drive an hour and a half to pick up some mix breed, female dog that will grow to be bigger than the plan. Let's not even mention that WE HAVE NOT MOVED YET!
To recap; the plan was to wait until we moved. My plan also included getting a dog that as an adult would weigh under 30 pounds. It would be a male dog named "Barney".
What did we get? A female dog that was listed as a Saint Bernard/Shepherd mix. I am a pushover. A sucker. (You know, one is born every minute.)
Before I panicked too much over how HUGE and HAIRY this dog was going to be, we saw both parents. I am not sure how they came up with Saint Bernard and Shepherd. What I saw in front of me was two medium sized, mixed breed dogs. I also saw three delighted children. (child #3 is NOT into animals, she was just along for the ride).
Our new puppy is some random mixed breed. I wanted to name her "Heinz" (as in 57 varieties)as a reminder of her roots...both breed wise and that we live in Pittsburgh and Heinz is a Pittsburgh brand.
Trying to name a puppy is always a bit of a challenge. When you consider the fact that this was a spur of the moment (STUPID) decision, and that we had 6 people in the car trying to agree, the name choice took 36 hours. Finally I picked what name child #4 and I liked best. After all, we are the people who will ultimately spend the most time with her. We named her 'Flynn', one of the main characters in the Disney movie "Tangled". OK, Flynn is a boy in that movie and the dog is a girl. I googled Flynn though and found out that Flynn is in the top 100 names for girls in Britain. Plus, it's a dog and Flynn is better than being named "Booger" or "Reptar" which is what the boys wanted to name her.
We are only on day four of having a dog again. So far, I can't remember why I wanted another dog. I have slept on the kitchen floor next to the kennel to stop her from screaming. I have soaked up her accidents with paper towel. I have yelled at her to stop chasing the cats and to stop jumping on child #4 (who has been yelled at to stop running because that entices the dog to chase)and to stop chewing on my furniture. Must be the look in her eye and the wag of her tail that makes me think there will be a day 5 of having a dog again.
In the meantime, I am thinking of changing my name to "Sucker" officially.
Thursday, March 24, 2011
Going Dogless
Six weeks ago we had to put down our dog, George, who was ten. He had lost control of his bladder. I would have dealt with it a bit longer, but our house is on the market. My husband is getting transferred back to Colorado. We have lived in Pennsylvania for five years. Actually, today is the fifth anniversary of closing on this house. Anyway, a dog peeing all over makes it a bit challenging to make the house looks appealing enough to buy. So, George had to leave a bit sooner than I would have planned.
To further complicate things, our other dog, three year old Cinder, started having accidents. I thought she had a urinary tract infection. I took her to the vet. They immediately said she needed to lose 30 pounds. 30 pounds! After the shock of that statement, I explained what was going on with her. They got some samples and sent us home. They called with results, 30 minutes after we had put George down. I need to back up a bit. My husband doesn't like Cinder. He didn't want to take her with us when we moved. We had a big fight, I fought hard to keep Cinder. Anyway, the vet called with the results...diabetes.
I cried hard. Money is tight in our home, so my first question was "What is it going to cost?" With the syringes, insulin, blood tests, testing strips, etc., it is about $100 a month. Cinder is only three, I can't even think about putting her down, she has to be treated. The vet continued about her needed care...eating twice a day, same time every day, balanced daily exercise, no stress...without these things, Cinder's glucose levels would mess up and she could get sicker. I knew this wasn't going to work which only made me cry harder. I don't feed my humans the same time every day, how could I ensure the dog would? Depending on the weather, exercise levels change, throw in kid activities and who knows if any real exercise will take place. And no stress?!?...our house is on the market, we are moving 24 hours away. Just the thought causes me GREAT amounts of stress...certainly it would cause a dog stress. Also, she won't be able to be left in a kennel if we vacation. She will have to go to a dog hospital, or have someone keep her that can monitor her and give her injections. We don't travel much, but even to get my son to and from college is a four day excursion. The tears kept on coming. For a week the vet and I talked trying to come up with some solutions.
The vet called one morning and said they had just received a call from a former patient. She had put her lab down three years ago and was now looking for a special needs lab. Cinder was the answer to her prayers. This wonderful woman was the answer to mine. I met her, she is wonderful. In the weeks since she has adopted Cinder, she emails me updates and even sent Cinder's name/phone tag to us. I miss Cinder with every cell in my body, but I know I have made the right decision for Cinder. The day I surrendered her, I was crying hysterically. Cinder kept jumping up with her paws on my chest. She had NEVER done that before. She knew how distressed I was. In all my life, through all the dogs in my life, I have never had a dog respond that way to my emotions.
It's been six weeks with no dog. I think that's a record. I came home from the hospital as a newborn to two St. Bernard's. Santa brought me a puppy when I was about four. I don't remember these dogs, but I have seen pictures. I remember a lab mix named Shady. She had puppies, most of them black, but one was yellow. My brother and I named them all, the yellow one was "King". When people came to adopt the puppies, we would hide King. We wanted to keep him. As it turned out, we couldn't even keep Shady. After her puppies were gone, she started carrying my baby brother around.
Then we got Kemo. He was born on my Dad's birthday. He was a cockapoo. He was a good dog, a smart dog. Once we went camping and went on a hike. There was nobody around, so we took him off his leash. After a bit, he caught scent of a deer (we suspect) and took off. We called him and looked for him but ended up going back to our campsite very sad. In the middle of the night, the people camping next to us knocked on our camper door. Seems Kemo made it all the way back to the campground...was only off by one campsite. It was pretty amazing. Kemo died when I was about 20. I don't know how old he was, I guess around 14. I was working for an insurance company and for whatever reason came home for lunch that day. (that was VERY rare for me to come home for lunch) My mom was sitting there crying. Sad day.
When my brother was a sophomore in college, maybe a junior, he got a dog, Grover. My brother later went into the Navy. My parents inherited Grover. By this time I was married. Near our first anniversary, we bought a house and found Molson, a black lab/great dane mix. Molson was HUGE. He was a great dog, very protective of our kids. He weighed 125 lbs. He got cancer at age ten. When he started growling at us, we knew he was ready to leave and we put him down. Child #1 was in 2nd grade. Child #2 cried so much and wouldn't tell Molson goodbye. She has never again bonded to another pet. She is now 17. We had three other dogs in our home between Molson and George, we just couldn't find the right personality. For awhile I think I was teaching the kids that pets are just visitors, not members of the family. But, finally George fit just right. Then seven years later, Cinder fit too.
In the six dogless weeks, we have mentioned George and Cinder countless times. We have thought about our next dog. Child #2 (who really doesn't like pets) has fallen in love with her friends long haired dachshund, Child #4 really wants a chihuahua like one of our family friends. Child #2 just wants a dog. I like yellow labs. I kept George's kennel, he was a terrier mix, about 20 lbs. I have said the next dog has to be able to fit into George's old kennel, s no yellow lab. We went to a pet store (BIG MISTAKE!)and found a schnoodle (schnauzer and poodle mix) and my heart melted. I even went back a second time to see him. The kids want to name him "Bieber". I have goggled schnoodles. I am smitten.
Six dogless weeks and I am searching for a replacement. I like having a dog. The are always happy to see me. They eat whatever I make them. They don't talk back. They seem generally sorry when you tell them "NO". I like having a dog. I am trying to hold off on getting a puppy until we make the big move. We will see. Going dogless is tough! Unless you are a vacuum cleaner.
To further complicate things, our other dog, three year old Cinder, started having accidents. I thought she had a urinary tract infection. I took her to the vet. They immediately said she needed to lose 30 pounds. 30 pounds! After the shock of that statement, I explained what was going on with her. They got some samples and sent us home. They called with results, 30 minutes after we had put George down. I need to back up a bit. My husband doesn't like Cinder. He didn't want to take her with us when we moved. We had a big fight, I fought hard to keep Cinder. Anyway, the vet called with the results...diabetes.
I cried hard. Money is tight in our home, so my first question was "What is it going to cost?" With the syringes, insulin, blood tests, testing strips, etc., it is about $100 a month. Cinder is only three, I can't even think about putting her down, she has to be treated. The vet continued about her needed care...eating twice a day, same time every day, balanced daily exercise, no stress...without these things, Cinder's glucose levels would mess up and she could get sicker. I knew this wasn't going to work which only made me cry harder. I don't feed my humans the same time every day, how could I ensure the dog would? Depending on the weather, exercise levels change, throw in kid activities and who knows if any real exercise will take place. And no stress?!?...our house is on the market, we are moving 24 hours away. Just the thought causes me GREAT amounts of stress...certainly it would cause a dog stress. Also, she won't be able to be left in a kennel if we vacation. She will have to go to a dog hospital, or have someone keep her that can monitor her and give her injections. We don't travel much, but even to get my son to and from college is a four day excursion. The tears kept on coming. For a week the vet and I talked trying to come up with some solutions.
The vet called one morning and said they had just received a call from a former patient. She had put her lab down three years ago and was now looking for a special needs lab. Cinder was the answer to her prayers. This wonderful woman was the answer to mine. I met her, she is wonderful. In the weeks since she has adopted Cinder, she emails me updates and even sent Cinder's name/phone tag to us. I miss Cinder with every cell in my body, but I know I have made the right decision for Cinder. The day I surrendered her, I was crying hysterically. Cinder kept jumping up with her paws on my chest. She had NEVER done that before. She knew how distressed I was. In all my life, through all the dogs in my life, I have never had a dog respond that way to my emotions.
It's been six weeks with no dog. I think that's a record. I came home from the hospital as a newborn to two St. Bernard's. Santa brought me a puppy when I was about four. I don't remember these dogs, but I have seen pictures. I remember a lab mix named Shady. She had puppies, most of them black, but one was yellow. My brother and I named them all, the yellow one was "King". When people came to adopt the puppies, we would hide King. We wanted to keep him. As it turned out, we couldn't even keep Shady. After her puppies were gone, she started carrying my baby brother around.
Then we got Kemo. He was born on my Dad's birthday. He was a cockapoo. He was a good dog, a smart dog. Once we went camping and went on a hike. There was nobody around, so we took him off his leash. After a bit, he caught scent of a deer (we suspect) and took off. We called him and looked for him but ended up going back to our campsite very sad. In the middle of the night, the people camping next to us knocked on our camper door. Seems Kemo made it all the way back to the campground...was only off by one campsite. It was pretty amazing. Kemo died when I was about 20. I don't know how old he was, I guess around 14. I was working for an insurance company and for whatever reason came home for lunch that day. (that was VERY rare for me to come home for lunch) My mom was sitting there crying. Sad day.
When my brother was a sophomore in college, maybe a junior, he got a dog, Grover. My brother later went into the Navy. My parents inherited Grover. By this time I was married. Near our first anniversary, we bought a house and found Molson, a black lab/great dane mix. Molson was HUGE. He was a great dog, very protective of our kids. He weighed 125 lbs. He got cancer at age ten. When he started growling at us, we knew he was ready to leave and we put him down. Child #1 was in 2nd grade. Child #2 cried so much and wouldn't tell Molson goodbye. She has never again bonded to another pet. She is now 17. We had three other dogs in our home between Molson and George, we just couldn't find the right personality. For awhile I think I was teaching the kids that pets are just visitors, not members of the family. But, finally George fit just right. Then seven years later, Cinder fit too.
In the six dogless weeks, we have mentioned George and Cinder countless times. We have thought about our next dog. Child #2 (who really doesn't like pets) has fallen in love with her friends long haired dachshund, Child #4 really wants a chihuahua like one of our family friends. Child #2 just wants a dog. I like yellow labs. I kept George's kennel, he was a terrier mix, about 20 lbs. I have said the next dog has to be able to fit into George's old kennel, s no yellow lab. We went to a pet store (BIG MISTAKE!)and found a schnoodle (schnauzer and poodle mix) and my heart melted. I even went back a second time to see him. The kids want to name him "Bieber". I have goggled schnoodles. I am smitten.
Six dogless weeks and I am searching for a replacement. I like having a dog. The are always happy to see me. They eat whatever I make them. They don't talk back. They seem generally sorry when you tell them "NO". I like having a dog. I am trying to hold off on getting a puppy until we make the big move. We will see. Going dogless is tough! Unless you are a vacuum cleaner.
Friday, February 11, 2011
Dog Days
I had to have my dog of ten years put down today. His body was quitting on him. His quality of life was rapidly falling. Here is what I wanted to tell him, and what he hopefully already knew.
Dear George,
You were my baby before the last baby arrived. You have been all our companions. You have never met a person who didn't comment on your cuteness and you never met a lap you didn't try to sit on. You were always so concerned when the baby cried and you would pace near him until I helped him. You are a good dog.
Thank you for putting up with child #3 who tried to dress you and insisted for years that your name was George Bush Washington. Thank you for enduring child #2 who pretended to not like you, she too will notice your absence. Thank you for providing child #1 company when people were too much, or maybe not enough. Thank you for teaching child #4 so much about the role pets play in our lives. Thank you for your patience as he learned to not climb on dogs or pull their fur or ears. Thank you for keeping dad and my laps warm when we sat in our favorite chair, which turned out to be your favorite chair too. Thank you for being smart and for protecting me from all those scary trick or treaters. I wouldn't have gotten through the babies months of dropping food from the highchair without you.
Upon arriving in Doggie Heaven, be nice to Mauka and Makai, your dog cousins. Sniff a 'hello' to Kemo and Grover, your dog uncles. Play with Molson your dog brother. Share some space with Missy, your dog grandma. We miss all of them, and like you, were our loving companions. Enjoy all my friends dogs who will be there waiting with treats and comfy beds to share.
I am sorry your body wore out before your welcome. You will be missed.
Thanks George for everything.
Dear George,
You were my baby before the last baby arrived. You have been all our companions. You have never met a person who didn't comment on your cuteness and you never met a lap you didn't try to sit on. You were always so concerned when the baby cried and you would pace near him until I helped him. You are a good dog.
Thank you for putting up with child #3 who tried to dress you and insisted for years that your name was George Bush Washington. Thank you for enduring child #2 who pretended to not like you, she too will notice your absence. Thank you for providing child #1 company when people were too much, or maybe not enough. Thank you for teaching child #4 so much about the role pets play in our lives. Thank you for your patience as he learned to not climb on dogs or pull their fur or ears. Thank you for keeping dad and my laps warm when we sat in our favorite chair, which turned out to be your favorite chair too. Thank you for being smart and for protecting me from all those scary trick or treaters. I wouldn't have gotten through the babies months of dropping food from the highchair without you.
Upon arriving in Doggie Heaven, be nice to Mauka and Makai, your dog cousins. Sniff a 'hello' to Kemo and Grover, your dog uncles. Play with Molson your dog brother. Share some space with Missy, your dog grandma. We miss all of them, and like you, were our loving companions. Enjoy all my friends dogs who will be there waiting with treats and comfy beds to share.
I am sorry your body wore out before your welcome. You will be missed.
Thanks George for everything.
Friday, November 19, 2010
Dollars and Sense
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.
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.
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.
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