When I was pregnant with Lane, my husband was known to make "innocent" comments that just sounded WRONG. (Okay, you got me, he STILL does that.) Early on in the first trimester, Dustin (who was 19 at the time and still a long, lanky young man who actually had some pretty hot, defined muscles but had always wanted MORE muscles) said: "Hey, maybe if our baby is a boy he'll get my height and your thickness and be a linebacker." That's right. My thickness. I remembered this comment the other day when we were having trouble finding the boys new pants that fit. Lane didn't get that "thickness" and like his father before him, he swam in the 14 regulars he tried on and we were debating on whether mandatory belts or slim fit was the best course of action. Tatton and Russell on the other hand... Well, let's just say that they couldn't get their respective pants to button up. So, we ventured into the Husky section. Tatton has been sensitive in the whole body image department lately and I felt the need to give him a dressing room pep talk. I told him about how my brothers (all buff & stand out athletes, etc.) had to wear huskies. I remember them (right at Tatton's age) putting on a little pudge around the middle right before they hit puberty and got tall and muscly. That was when I had my "Oh..." moment and realized that my sons had indeed gotten my "thickness" that their father had requested. Word to the wise though Guys, even if made in the spirit of future football hopes, NEVER call your wife THICK, okay?
During that same pregnancy, Dustin also said, "Hey, our baby might be a white person like you, huh?" Um, excuse me? I mean, we're both white, so I don't really know what that even means... He clarified. "No, I mean REALLY white like you. I hope he's got my coloring." Oh, do you now? Well, I feel pretty, thanks. For those of you who don't know, Lane did indeed turn out to be a white person just like me. Lane and I both come in two color options: pasty white bordering on translucent and lobster red when exposed to the sun. In the skin department we seemed to split as a family 50/50. 3 of us are "white people" and the other 3 can stay in the sun for HOURS just getting bronzed and bronzer. Ultimately, I agree with Dustin now. I kind of wish that all of the kids had gotten his coloring. Worrying your child is going to get a blistering sunburn because they've been outside for 15 minutes and you forgot to put sunblock on them is not nearly as nice as having kids that never seem to burn whatsoever. I'm sure the two kids who got my skin tone would have preferred to have skipped having access to that part of my DNA. Poor Lane, between his OCD issues with worrying about being sick and his history of sunburns, he's been giving himself skin cancer checks since he was 6. "Uh, Mom- does this mole look like it's suspicious to you?!" is something I hear a lot.
Well, I guess I'd better go clean some more. :-( I hear I'm having a Super Bowl party at my house tomorrow. Don't get me wrong. I like watching the Super Bowl too. (Okay, okay, I don't LOVE football, but I like the food and commercials.) I just have no idea how I had absolutely nothing to do with the planning of this little shindig and yet I'm doing the cooking & cleaning for it... ??? It snuck up on me and morphed into something WAY bigger than I expected. It started off a few days ago when Dustin said, "Oh, I was planning on having a couple guys over to watch the game." I said, "Okay, cool." Next thing I knew, our guest list had multiplied faster than rabbits. Everybody is bringing friends and their friends are apparently bringing friends... I don't even KNOW most of these people. When I made a begrudging comment about it to Mr. Wonderful he said I was being anti-social and snobby. I'd like to make a statement: The correct term is LAZY. I just don't like having to do extra cooking and cleaning, thank you. It takes energy to entertain and make conversation with people you barely know.
I've decided that my 30th Birthday present to myself is going to be learning how to be assertive and speak my mind more often. We've already established that I'm thick, pale white, and snobby. I don't see how throwing bossy into the mix could really hurt anything.
Saturday, January 31, 2009
Wednesday, January 28, 2009
Damaged Goods
Hello. My name is Natalie and I am broken. (You all say: "Hi, Natalie!) I have a few different posts in the drafts department addressing this issue. However, it wasn't until a couple of comments from my hubby this week that I have finally decided to throw this subject out into the blogging universe. I have never broken a bone in my life. I do not have any chipped or cracked nails to speak of. I barely even have any split ends. The harsh reality though... I am utterly broken. For all of my pseudo outer strength, it has become clear that my insides are something like scratched Teflon. Black, things rarely stick, and the few areas that things do stick are because there's some sort of damage that makes me hold on to things that are in fact not supposed to stick. I've "scrubbed' and "scrubbed" to get rid of the stuff that isn't supposed to stick (like priding myself on my lack of tears) in order to make room for the stuff that is (like being able to cry), but sometimes I think that all of that scrubbing is just making my Teflon more scratched. And I really don't want that because as bizarre as some people may think that having a slippery black heart may be, it's REALLY convenient. My Teflon has served me well, People.
They say that admitting to weakness is really a sign of strength. You're supposedly "strong in your vulnerability". So, I envy other people who can just be emotional. I have NO CLUE how to do that. For a long time, I prided myself on my lack of tears. I thought it meant that I could handle anything that came my way. My husband says that it means I'm cold though. I said, "Of course I'm cold! It's freaking 26 degrees out!" He didn't laugh. I guess because I've also always prided myself on laughing things off. Humor helps. Or at least that's what I thought. He just looked at me with this face that said, "You sad, sad, creature. You don't really know how pathetic that is, do you?"
I feel somewhat defensive about these accusations. He makes it sound like he thinks I'm some weird, psychopathic monster. After 13 years of marriage, you would think he would know me better than that! I'm not incapable of love. I can sympathize with the best of them. I just have a tendency to rationalize why things aren't a big deal. Other people allow themselves to be overcome with emotion and act on impulse. When they feel angry, sad, scared, etc. they scream and cry or act out one way or another. I usually just go, "Oh, okay..." and deal. Now, whether the way that I "deal" is healthy or not... I'm not the one to say. It FEELS fine. It apparently freaks my husband out. He listed off a whole bunch of examples of times that I have been inappropriately stoic. Who knew I was scaring people with my lack of emotion?
This week, when my grandpa died, I was sad. I calmly talked to my mom on the phone when she told me, then came out and calmly told Dustin the news. I got out some old pictures and looked through them and then wrote a blog about him. Dustin kept coming up and hugging me tight and (with tears in HIS eyes) surveying my face for some sign of emotional breakdown. After a while, he asked me why I wasn't more upset. I told him because we mourn for those of us that are left behind, not the ones that pass on. My grandpa is in a better place. I think that the hardest losses to take are when you had unfinished business with someone. The wife who just had a fight with her husband and said some cruel words as he drove away before getting in a car wreck. The mother who lost a child and wasn't able to experience all of the stages of raising them. I didn't have any unfinished business with my grandpa though. I had already gotten more love and support from him than a lot of people receive in a lifetime. I have nothing but gratitude for the time that I did have with him. So, why would I NEED to put on a big display of grief?
Now, Dustin is concerned that I may not cry at his own funeral (barring an unexpected turn of events resulting in unfinished business, of course.) He pointed out that he's never seen me cry at a funeral. I NEVER cry during movies. I NEVER cry when I get bad news. So, he thinks it's probable that my eyes will be dry when he dies. Obviously, I can't predict how I would react, but I'm assuming that losing my spouse would probably spur tears. But even if I DIDN'T cry... that doesn't mean I loved him any less. It probably just means that I'm mentally checking off all of the reasons why it's going to be okay & making mental notes of all the things that I appreciate or want to remember. That's how my mind works. I usually step back and assess the situation and find the solution or at least the positive before I bother waisting any energy freaking out. I REALLY hate the way it feels to freak out. Alternately, I love the empowerment of being able stay calm. There's a certain confidence in being pro-active about things instead of well, just crumbling. I hope he realizes someday that it's a useful trait when he's upset and I'm able to handle things for the both of us. Seriously, it's people like me who can stay cool under pressure that can act as crutches for the people who are falling apart. So, call it psychopathic or cold or whatever you want to call it... I still really like my Teflon. Oh, and my heart really isn't black. I swear. Certain individuals just assume that because I have a good poker face and prefer to analyze things.
Maybe that does mean I'm broken. Maybe I'd really be "living" if I just threw caution to the wind and went through life FEELING my way through situations rather than strategizing and interpreting shades of grey. I'm sure I could pick up a Dr. Phil book about this or something... but damaged goods or not, I dunno. That's what he says.
They say that admitting to weakness is really a sign of strength. You're supposedly "strong in your vulnerability". So, I envy other people who can just be emotional. I have NO CLUE how to do that. For a long time, I prided myself on my lack of tears. I thought it meant that I could handle anything that came my way. My husband says that it means I'm cold though. I said, "Of course I'm cold! It's freaking 26 degrees out!" He didn't laugh. I guess because I've also always prided myself on laughing things off. Humor helps. Or at least that's what I thought. He just looked at me with this face that said, "You sad, sad, creature. You don't really know how pathetic that is, do you?"
I feel somewhat defensive about these accusations. He makes it sound like he thinks I'm some weird, psychopathic monster. After 13 years of marriage, you would think he would know me better than that! I'm not incapable of love. I can sympathize with the best of them. I just have a tendency to rationalize why things aren't a big deal. Other people allow themselves to be overcome with emotion and act on impulse. When they feel angry, sad, scared, etc. they scream and cry or act out one way or another. I usually just go, "Oh, okay..." and deal. Now, whether the way that I "deal" is healthy or not... I'm not the one to say. It FEELS fine. It apparently freaks my husband out. He listed off a whole bunch of examples of times that I have been inappropriately stoic. Who knew I was scaring people with my lack of emotion?
This week, when my grandpa died, I was sad. I calmly talked to my mom on the phone when she told me, then came out and calmly told Dustin the news. I got out some old pictures and looked through them and then wrote a blog about him. Dustin kept coming up and hugging me tight and (with tears in HIS eyes) surveying my face for some sign of emotional breakdown. After a while, he asked me why I wasn't more upset. I told him because we mourn for those of us that are left behind, not the ones that pass on. My grandpa is in a better place. I think that the hardest losses to take are when you had unfinished business with someone. The wife who just had a fight with her husband and said some cruel words as he drove away before getting in a car wreck. The mother who lost a child and wasn't able to experience all of the stages of raising them. I didn't have any unfinished business with my grandpa though. I had already gotten more love and support from him than a lot of people receive in a lifetime. I have nothing but gratitude for the time that I did have with him. So, why would I NEED to put on a big display of grief?
Now, Dustin is concerned that I may not cry at his own funeral (barring an unexpected turn of events resulting in unfinished business, of course.) He pointed out that he's never seen me cry at a funeral. I NEVER cry during movies. I NEVER cry when I get bad news. So, he thinks it's probable that my eyes will be dry when he dies. Obviously, I can't predict how I would react, but I'm assuming that losing my spouse would probably spur tears. But even if I DIDN'T cry... that doesn't mean I loved him any less. It probably just means that I'm mentally checking off all of the reasons why it's going to be okay & making mental notes of all the things that I appreciate or want to remember. That's how my mind works. I usually step back and assess the situation and find the solution or at least the positive before I bother waisting any energy freaking out. I REALLY hate the way it feels to freak out. Alternately, I love the empowerment of being able stay calm. There's a certain confidence in being pro-active about things instead of well, just crumbling. I hope he realizes someday that it's a useful trait when he's upset and I'm able to handle things for the both of us. Seriously, it's people like me who can stay cool under pressure that can act as crutches for the people who are falling apart. So, call it psychopathic or cold or whatever you want to call it... I still really like my Teflon. Oh, and my heart really isn't black. I swear. Certain individuals just assume that because I have a good poker face and prefer to analyze things.
Maybe that does mean I'm broken. Maybe I'd really be "living" if I just threw caution to the wind and went through life FEELING my way through situations rather than strategizing and interpreting shades of grey. I'm sure I could pick up a Dr. Phil book about this or something... but damaged goods or not, I dunno. That's what he says.
Thursday, January 15, 2009
What A Guy
Russell, bless his heart, has a new habit. As soon as he takes his clothes off, he throws them in the DRYER. Now, keep in mind that he's only 8 and the world of laundry is fairly new to him. So, technically, it's pretty sweet to see him doing this "helpful" thing on his own. In his mind, he's just being a responsible big person who washes their own clothes. I tried to monopolize on this and teach him to throw them in the washer instead. He really seems to like the dryer though.
This morning, I walked around the lake picking up MORE litter that the flood brought in. When I came inside, I was feeling pretty nasty. Call me a girly girl, but tromping through the mud, standing garbage cans back upright after draining muddy water from them, and picking up soggy garbage makes me feel downright smelly. So, I ran a hot bath and went into the laundry room to wash my work clothes in HOT water (and extra soap... with an extra rinse cycle...) Sure enough, sitting there in the dryer were the jammies that Russell had taken off before school this morning. It made me smile. Eventually, I'll get him to put them in the washer and add some soap, etc. For now, it sure is cute & definitely one of those things that I want to remember about him later.
This morning, I walked around the lake picking up MORE litter that the flood brought in. When I came inside, I was feeling pretty nasty. Call me a girly girl, but tromping through the mud, standing garbage cans back upright after draining muddy water from them, and picking up soggy garbage makes me feel downright smelly. So, I ran a hot bath and went into the laundry room to wash my work clothes in HOT water (and extra soap... with an extra rinse cycle...) Sure enough, sitting there in the dryer were the jammies that Russell had taken off before school this morning. It made me smile. Eventually, I'll get him to put them in the washer and add some soap, etc. For now, it sure is cute & definitely one of those things that I want to remember about him later.
Wednesday, January 14, 2009
Little Miss Sunshine
So, after glancing over my last few posts I realized something. I've been really gloomy, whiny, sort of lame, and have blogged about my messy house in excess. So, in honor of the sunshine making an appearance today (seriously gorgeous out!) I'm going to randomly list off a few things that have actually made me HAPPY this week:
My kids went back to school. Enough said.
Okay, okay, yes, I do feel like a mean mommy for celebrating that, but hey! Even they appreciate it. The reality is, even though they're just like most kids and they say they don't like school and they love breaks as much as the next kid, they also admit to liking the way it feels to get back to their familiar schedule and friends. And... (probably shouldn't admit this because I'm not sure what it says for my cooking...) they LOVE eating school lunches. My kids seriously get excited about the lunch menu. Plus, even though I'm not thrilled that back to school also means evenings full of homework, overall our evenings are nicer when school is in session because we had a chance to miss each other during the day and we only have to play nice for a few hours before it's bedtime and everyone has stuff to talk about over dinner because we actually went out into the world and acquired some new info to share. It's a win-win.
The second thing I'm happy about is that I spent some really nice, much needed time with my hubby yesterday. I've gotten spoiled since usually he has every Tuesday off and so each week while the kids are all in school we get 6 hours of uninterrupted mommy & daddy time. However, that hasn't happened for a while because, you know, no school. We've spent plenty of time together but it hasn't really been quality time. It's been "surrounded by a ton of other people who are all simultaneously demanding attention while we're attempting to work together to divert a crisis" sort of time instead. We're both stressed. We're both grouchy and we've both been flinging snarky, underhanded comments at each other more than usual. Not exactly a honeymoon period around here. So, yesterday, simply going out to Olive Garden for lunch together felt SO NICE! Like "Wow, maybe we CAN stay married" nice. We both enjoyed it so much that he arranged for his parents to take the kids overnight on Friday. Now, I have something to look forward to this weekend. Which is GREAT since Monday & Tuesday there's no school again making this a 4 day weekend for the kiddos AND there are a couple of half days after that for report card prep! Yikes! Makes me wonder how my kids are ever going to learn anything this school year... Is a dozen 6 hour days of school per month enough? That's like 72 hours of school this month... Anyways...
I would also like to rejoice that the flood waters have receded and the sky is an amazing shade of blue. I can't imagine how overcome with joy they must have felt when the bird brought the leaf back to the ark, because as it is my joy this morning when I pulled open the blinds and saw the sky was over the top. I don't know if my body could have handled THAT much serotonin if I had been in the ark. As it was, I had to restrain myself from dancing and singing as I went for a walk this morning. The people on musicals make it look so easy to just burst forth into song as they run through rolling fields. Even though I was tempted, I just couldn't sing "Doe- a deer, a female deer" as I sprinted along at the park though. I might have channeled a little Bon Jovi & hummed a few lines of Living On A Prayer... but you'll never get me to admit that.
Really, when I'm being honest with myself, I have a TON of stuff to be thankful for and I could go on and on about things that I'm happy about this week. I guess I just lost site of that for a while. There's nothing like public school, a lunch date with the hubby, and some sunshine to remind me how good I've got it. Hope you guys are having a good week too!
My kids went back to school. Enough said.
Okay, okay, yes, I do feel like a mean mommy for celebrating that, but hey! Even they appreciate it. The reality is, even though they're just like most kids and they say they don't like school and they love breaks as much as the next kid, they also admit to liking the way it feels to get back to their familiar schedule and friends. And... (probably shouldn't admit this because I'm not sure what it says for my cooking...) they LOVE eating school lunches. My kids seriously get excited about the lunch menu. Plus, even though I'm not thrilled that back to school also means evenings full of homework, overall our evenings are nicer when school is in session because we had a chance to miss each other during the day and we only have to play nice for a few hours before it's bedtime and everyone has stuff to talk about over dinner because we actually went out into the world and acquired some new info to share. It's a win-win.
The second thing I'm happy about is that I spent some really nice, much needed time with my hubby yesterday. I've gotten spoiled since usually he has every Tuesday off and so each week while the kids are all in school we get 6 hours of uninterrupted mommy & daddy time. However, that hasn't happened for a while because, you know, no school. We've spent plenty of time together but it hasn't really been quality time. It's been "surrounded by a ton of other people who are all simultaneously demanding attention while we're attempting to work together to divert a crisis" sort of time instead. We're both stressed. We're both grouchy and we've both been flinging snarky, underhanded comments at each other more than usual. Not exactly a honeymoon period around here. So, yesterday, simply going out to Olive Garden for lunch together felt SO NICE! Like "Wow, maybe we CAN stay married" nice. We both enjoyed it so much that he arranged for his parents to take the kids overnight on Friday. Now, I have something to look forward to this weekend. Which is GREAT since Monday & Tuesday there's no school again making this a 4 day weekend for the kiddos AND there are a couple of half days after that for report card prep! Yikes! Makes me wonder how my kids are ever going to learn anything this school year... Is a dozen 6 hour days of school per month enough? That's like 72 hours of school this month... Anyways...
I would also like to rejoice that the flood waters have receded and the sky is an amazing shade of blue. I can't imagine how overcome with joy they must have felt when the bird brought the leaf back to the ark, because as it is my joy this morning when I pulled open the blinds and saw the sky was over the top. I don't know if my body could have handled THAT much serotonin if I had been in the ark. As it was, I had to restrain myself from dancing and singing as I went for a walk this morning. The people on musicals make it look so easy to just burst forth into song as they run through rolling fields. Even though I was tempted, I just couldn't sing "Doe- a deer, a female deer" as I sprinted along at the park though. I might have channeled a little Bon Jovi & hummed a few lines of Living On A Prayer... but you'll never get me to admit that.
Really, when I'm being honest with myself, I have a TON of stuff to be thankful for and I could go on and on about things that I'm happy about this week. I guess I just lost site of that for a while. There's nothing like public school, a lunch date with the hubby, and some sunshine to remind me how good I've got it. Hope you guys are having a good week too!
Monday, January 12, 2009
Just Another Migraine Monday
I don't know what you call this. Seasonal depression, maybe? When I get really stressed, I get a killer migraine on the right side of my head. I can feel it coming up through my tensed up right shoulder and throbbing behind my right eye. I get nauseous and dizzy. I'm super sensitive to smells, lights, and sounds. Do you want to know the best part? While I have had this going on for DAYS, we have been flooded in at our house. The kids' school had something of an emergency evac / sent the kids home at 10:30 on Thursday because of rising waters. From there on out, the water just kept getting deeper and deeper until our road was closed essentially trapping me inside of my house with my 4 noisy, smelly children. I love them. Honestly, I really do. However, there's this viscous cycle where they cause me to feel stressed and get a migraine and then my migraine makes me nearly incapable of dealing with the noises and smells that come along with said children. On Friday night, I lost it and made them all go to bed at 7:00. Believe me, you haven't heard a child throw a fit until you tell a 12 year old that they're going to bed at 7:00 on a Friday night.
Between the snow days, and the Holidays, and now the flooding... my kids have only gone to school a handful of times since the beginning of December. I've been trying to remember how on earth we made it through 90 days of summer vacation considering one month of "vacation" in the winter is enough to make me consider getting medicated. I think that we might be okay if the sun would just make a bloody appearance to recharge my sanity albeit temporarily. Oddly enough, I've always considered myself an easy going person. So it comes as quite a shock to me that my children's love of a Bohemian existence sends me so far over the edge. The mere fact that my daughter feels that clothing should be optional and my son eats 24/7 are driving me mad.
On Friday morning my daughter's clothing optional mindset manifested itself in a rather embarrassing way. Since my throbbing head was killing me and we had NO WHERE to go since they weren't going to school, I was lazily sleeping the morning away. That said, I didn't notice my kids excitedly throwing on their rubber boots so that they could go splash in the muddy flood waters which I admit, do probably look like glorified mud puddles to my puddle loving kiddos. If it weren't for the fact that the house was eerily TOO quiet (odd the way that quiet now sets off alarms and wakes me) I wouldn't have noticed at all and would have continued blissfully sleeping.
It was about 9:30 when the silence wasn't golden, and I jumped out of bed and went looking for the missing noise makers. A glance out the window, and I realized that not only were they happily splashing in the water that had found its way to our yard after flowing swiftly through fields of cow manure and over engorged septic systems but that Brooke was wearing nothing but her beloved pink robe that's a few sizes too small and a pair of boots. To really top it off, there were several gawkers taking pictures. That's right. My poor parenting has been documented. I just hope and pray that none of those pictures make their way into the hands of child protective services. In my defense, I did run out and force her to come inside and take a bath and put clothes on while I washed her robe. I don't have any pictures of that though.
So, here it is Monday. My migraine is still going strong, but my kids ARE back to school. I'm trying (really, really, REALLY trying) to have a good attitude about all the clean-up that I have to do. I'm telling myself that at least I'm in good enough health to clean. Heck, I could be paralyzed or something. I should be thankful that I can vacuum, right? And even though I strongly resent the fact that the dirty laundry has been coming in twice as fast as I've been able to wash it, I should be thankful that I HAVE a family to make that laundry dirty, right? Same goes for the dishes. Sure, I'd love it if the clouds opened up and the other 5 people who live in this house (and all the guests who are always coming in our revolving front door) would pitch in without me losing my voice nagging them... but hey, at least I have a kitchen to clean, right? When the weather has gotten extreme this winter I've been feeling extra grateful for the roof over my head.
So, there you have it. I'm done ranting. Now, I guess I should get back to my chores while the kids are at school. Hopefully my excedrin kicks in soon. Oh, and here is a pic of our flooded back yard. (The ones of Brooke in her robe not included.):
Between the snow days, and the Holidays, and now the flooding... my kids have only gone to school a handful of times since the beginning of December. I've been trying to remember how on earth we made it through 90 days of summer vacation considering one month of "vacation" in the winter is enough to make me consider getting medicated. I think that we might be okay if the sun would just make a bloody appearance to recharge my sanity albeit temporarily. Oddly enough, I've always considered myself an easy going person. So it comes as quite a shock to me that my children's love of a Bohemian existence sends me so far over the edge. The mere fact that my daughter feels that clothing should be optional and my son eats 24/7 are driving me mad.
On Friday morning my daughter's clothing optional mindset manifested itself in a rather embarrassing way. Since my throbbing head was killing me and we had NO WHERE to go since they weren't going to school, I was lazily sleeping the morning away. That said, I didn't notice my kids excitedly throwing on their rubber boots so that they could go splash in the muddy flood waters which I admit, do probably look like glorified mud puddles to my puddle loving kiddos. If it weren't for the fact that the house was eerily TOO quiet (odd the way that quiet now sets off alarms and wakes me) I wouldn't have noticed at all and would have continued blissfully sleeping.
It was about 9:30 when the silence wasn't golden, and I jumped out of bed and went looking for the missing noise makers. A glance out the window, and I realized that not only were they happily splashing in the water that had found its way to our yard after flowing swiftly through fields of cow manure and over engorged septic systems but that Brooke was wearing nothing but her beloved pink robe that's a few sizes too small and a pair of boots. To really top it off, there were several gawkers taking pictures. That's right. My poor parenting has been documented. I just hope and pray that none of those pictures make their way into the hands of child protective services. In my defense, I did run out and force her to come inside and take a bath and put clothes on while I washed her robe. I don't have any pictures of that though.
So, here it is Monday. My migraine is still going strong, but my kids ARE back to school. I'm trying (really, really, REALLY trying) to have a good attitude about all the clean-up that I have to do. I'm telling myself that at least I'm in good enough health to clean. Heck, I could be paralyzed or something. I should be thankful that I can vacuum, right? And even though I strongly resent the fact that the dirty laundry has been coming in twice as fast as I've been able to wash it, I should be thankful that I HAVE a family to make that laundry dirty, right? Same goes for the dishes. Sure, I'd love it if the clouds opened up and the other 5 people who live in this house (and all the guests who are always coming in our revolving front door) would pitch in without me losing my voice nagging them... but hey, at least I have a kitchen to clean, right? When the weather has gotten extreme this winter I've been feeling extra grateful for the roof over my head.
So, there you have it. I'm done ranting. Now, I guess I should get back to my chores while the kids are at school. Hopefully my excedrin kicks in soon. Oh, and here is a pic of our flooded back yard. (The ones of Brooke in her robe not included.):
Monday, January 5, 2009
Straight Off the Compound
So, here's why I'm not entirely opposed to the concept of polygamy: Now, hear me out! I know, I know... I can hear the collective gasp of indignation. I would just like to say that if you were over here right now and you could see the size of my laundry pile, you would agree that every once in a while it would be pretty convenient to up the mom to kid ratio. You see, today is the first day that all 4 of my kids have gone to school since the beginning of December. Throw in a couple Holidays, a ton of tracked in snow mess, and a round of the flu and my house is so messy that the walls are closing in on me.
I've been "cheerily" chipping away at it for well, forever basically, and the only thing getting me through the chaos has been repeating "I'll get caught up as soon as our schedule gets back to normal" 35 times a day. Guess what?! Today's the day! I watched out the window as all 8 of their little feet tread up the steps on to the school bus and then threw myself into dishes and laundry and vacuuming... and blogging??? Okay, maybe I could have left that last part out today, but we'll call it a "sanity safety meeting".
I forced all of the kids to deep clean their bedrooms this weekend, which means that they brought out every morsel of clothing they own and declared it "dirty" even though half of it is still folded / attached to a hanger. I simply must wash it since it's been keeping company in the hamper with laundry that really is dirty though... Love that. I vacuumed the house from one side to the other and pulled out the furniture / appliances / etc. and used the wall attachment to deep clean the ceiling fans and light fixtures and stuff. Seriously ashamed to admit, the vacuum bag was almost empty when I started and now it's busting at the seams it's so full.
Now, I don't know how much it would cost to hire a maid, but I'm pretty sure I'm too poor white trash for that. Which leads me back to where we started at... can't you just picture sharing household responsibilities? Gosh, I would LOVE to be able to say, "It's your night to cook" or "I'll take care of the babies while you help the older kids with homework..." What do you guys think? Would the pros of that type of relationship ever outweigh the cons for you? When you see the pictures of the ladies in frumpy dresses and prairie braids are you simply horrified at the injustice or do you ever think, "Wow! I wouldn't have to handle it all on my own!"
I've been "cheerily" chipping away at it for well, forever basically, and the only thing getting me through the chaos has been repeating "I'll get caught up as soon as our schedule gets back to normal" 35 times a day. Guess what?! Today's the day! I watched out the window as all 8 of their little feet tread up the steps on to the school bus and then threw myself into dishes and laundry and vacuuming... and blogging??? Okay, maybe I could have left that last part out today, but we'll call it a "sanity safety meeting".
I forced all of the kids to deep clean their bedrooms this weekend, which means that they brought out every morsel of clothing they own and declared it "dirty" even though half of it is still folded / attached to a hanger. I simply must wash it since it's been keeping company in the hamper with laundry that really is dirty though... Love that. I vacuumed the house from one side to the other and pulled out the furniture / appliances / etc. and used the wall attachment to deep clean the ceiling fans and light fixtures and stuff. Seriously ashamed to admit, the vacuum bag was almost empty when I started and now it's busting at the seams it's so full.
Now, I don't know how much it would cost to hire a maid, but I'm pretty sure I'm too poor white trash for that. Which leads me back to where we started at... can't you just picture sharing household responsibilities? Gosh, I would LOVE to be able to say, "It's your night to cook" or "I'll take care of the babies while you help the older kids with homework..." What do you guys think? Would the pros of that type of relationship ever outweigh the cons for you? When you see the pictures of the ladies in frumpy dresses and prairie braids are you simply horrified at the injustice or do you ever think, "Wow! I wouldn't have to handle it all on my own!"
Monday, December 29, 2008
A House Divided
As if it weren't hard enough to lose weight when you have 4 growing kids that want to eat yummy foods in your house... we have a new stumbling block around here. We now have a child that is on a diet to help him GAIN weight. Now, when I first got serious about losing weight I made a decision to take back control of the type of foods that come into my home. I can't lose my willpower and gorge myself on chocolate ice cream if there isn't any in the freezer. Simple strategy. It would have worked too, had my 12 year old not lost 14 lbs. recently thanks to his ADD meds. Losing 14 lbs. is a lot when you were only 90 lbs. to start off with and you're supposed to be doing a little thing called growing. When he stepped on the scale at his check-up today and the doctor shook his head at the number I asked the good doc to prescribe some for me too. He laughed. I was like, "No, seriously..." Apparently, he takes his medical license seriously or something.
So, he gave me a handout with a list of suggested foods: whole milk, ice cream, mac 'n cheese, peanut butter, trail mix, protein shakes, bagels with cream cheese, fruit juices... all the good stuff. I'm supposed to make sure he eats LOTS and LOTS of yummy, high calorie foods whenever he feels like it. It felt like dejavu... why does this seem familiar? Oh yeah! That's what I did to get fat too! Well, at least he's in good hands. I've got this gaining weight thing down like a pro. I'm just a little nervous about how I'm supposed to be good & eat my broccoli and celery sticks while I'm loading my grocery cart with artery busters.
Which brings me to my next concern: I went to the pharmacy to fill his prescription and forgot to skip reading the paperwork that goes along with it. Every time that I do certain words jump out at me and make my heart race like a rabbits. Tell your doctor if you or your child have any heart problems, heart defects, high blood pressure, or a family history of these problems. Well, I DID tell the doctor that I do have high blood pressure and a family history of significant heart problems and he still prescribed it, so I GUESS I'm trusting him...
Tell your doctor if you or your child have tics or Tourette's syndrome, or a family history of Tourette's syndrome or anxiety problems. Yep, told him that too. One of the reasons that we see him is because Lane was diagnosed with Tourette's and has severe anxiety. So, trusting him on that one too...
Especially tell your doctor if you or your child takes: anti-depression medication including MAOI's, seizure medicines, blood thinner medicines, blood pressure medicines, antacids, cold or allergy medicines that contain decongestants Umm... he knows that Lane is on an anti-depressant. He doesn't take cold / allergy meds on a regular basis but it is December and I've been known to give my kid cold meds when the snot strikes, so... okay, I guess.
Use this medicine with caution if you have a family history of emotional problems, or alcohol or substance abuse. Abuse may lead to addiction and severe mental changes. Do not stop taking this medicine suddenly. You may experience withdrawal symptoms. Since every time we go in to the doctor I'm forced to discuss my lengthy family history of drug & alcohol abuse & the fact that the majority of my relatives are self-medicating and/ or either in jail or rehab (why can't they just check the file anyway? Don't they know that i don't love answering those questions?), I'm pretty sure he knows that we do in fact have a genetic predisposition to drug abuse. So, I'm trusting him on that too...
I guess what I'm trying to say is that it's so hard as a parent to know what the right thing to do for your child is. This medicine has really helped improve his grades a lot. Which I'm sure will help his self-esteem a lot too. I guess you could call that it's redeeming quality. The risks that took the pharmacy 8 pages worth of paper & ink to describe are a major con and the fact that I'm filling my house with diet temptations in hopes that his biceps will one day stick out more than his elbows is also a pretty big downfall. I'm so thankful that science has brought us so many advancements and that the majority of our health woes can be lessened if not fixed all together nowadays. Oh my goodness some of these new pharmaceutical goodies can open up a whole new world of stress though! And I have no idea how I'm expected to lose weight while fattening Lane up. Too bad it wasn't as easy as just giving my fat to him.
So, he gave me a handout with a list of suggested foods: whole milk, ice cream, mac 'n cheese, peanut butter, trail mix, protein shakes, bagels with cream cheese, fruit juices... all the good stuff. I'm supposed to make sure he eats LOTS and LOTS of yummy, high calorie foods whenever he feels like it. It felt like dejavu... why does this seem familiar? Oh yeah! That's what I did to get fat too! Well, at least he's in good hands. I've got this gaining weight thing down like a pro. I'm just a little nervous about how I'm supposed to be good & eat my broccoli and celery sticks while I'm loading my grocery cart with artery busters.
Which brings me to my next concern: I went to the pharmacy to fill his prescription and forgot to skip reading the paperwork that goes along with it. Every time that I do certain words jump out at me and make my heart race like a rabbits. Tell your doctor if you or your child have any heart problems, heart defects, high blood pressure, or a family history of these problems. Well, I DID tell the doctor that I do have high blood pressure and a family history of significant heart problems and he still prescribed it, so I GUESS I'm trusting him...
Tell your doctor if you or your child have tics or Tourette's syndrome, or a family history of Tourette's syndrome or anxiety problems. Yep, told him that too. One of the reasons that we see him is because Lane was diagnosed with Tourette's and has severe anxiety. So, trusting him on that one too...
Especially tell your doctor if you or your child takes: anti-depression medication including MAOI's, seizure medicines, blood thinner medicines, blood pressure medicines, antacids, cold or allergy medicines that contain decongestants Umm... he knows that Lane is on an anti-depressant. He doesn't take cold / allergy meds on a regular basis but it is December and I've been known to give my kid cold meds when the snot strikes, so... okay, I guess.
Use this medicine with caution if you have a family history of emotional problems, or alcohol or substance abuse. Abuse may lead to addiction and severe mental changes. Do not stop taking this medicine suddenly. You may experience withdrawal symptoms. Since every time we go in to the doctor I'm forced to discuss my lengthy family history of drug & alcohol abuse & the fact that the majority of my relatives are self-medicating and/ or either in jail or rehab (why can't they just check the file anyway? Don't they know that i don't love answering those questions?), I'm pretty sure he knows that we do in fact have a genetic predisposition to drug abuse. So, I'm trusting him on that too...
I guess what I'm trying to say is that it's so hard as a parent to know what the right thing to do for your child is. This medicine has really helped improve his grades a lot. Which I'm sure will help his self-esteem a lot too. I guess you could call that it's redeeming quality. The risks that took the pharmacy 8 pages worth of paper & ink to describe are a major con and the fact that I'm filling my house with diet temptations in hopes that his biceps will one day stick out more than his elbows is also a pretty big downfall. I'm so thankful that science has brought us so many advancements and that the majority of our health woes can be lessened if not fixed all together nowadays. Oh my goodness some of these new pharmaceutical goodies can open up a whole new world of stress though! And I have no idea how I'm expected to lose weight while fattening Lane up. Too bad it wasn't as easy as just giving my fat to him.
Friday, December 26, 2008
Twas The Day After Christmas
Twas the day after Christmas and all through my house, there was clutter, more clutter, and an off skiing spouse. The children were jamming in Guitar Hero bliss, I was wishing that Santa had seen earplugs on my list... to my mind came an idea "let's go out to eat!" We attempted to groom and threw boots on our feet. I sat there with my kiddos, in a terrific mood, we were out of the house having wonderful food... when what to my wondering eyes did appear? I'll give you a clue... it was not reindeer. On Dasher, On Dancer, On Blitzen, On Comet... my eight year old son was covered in vomit. With apologies flying, I left a GOOD tip and face flaming beet red, we gave that mess the slip...
Moral of the story: even if feeling blue... just stay home with noise & clutter if exposed to the flu...
Moral of the story: even if feeling blue... just stay home with noise & clutter if exposed to the flu...
Monday, October 27, 2008
Truly Madly Deeply
I took them to the pumpkin farm this weekend too. I didn't want to. What I wanted was for their dad to be ready, willing, and able to step up & say, "Don't worry, Hon. I know you haven't been feeling well. You stay home and rest while I take them." (A girl can dream can't she?) He wasn't around though and they wanted to go SO badly. So, I sucked it up and we went.
Once again, they made me laugh. Their cuteness won me over and I forgot I didn't feel well somewhere along the way. I don't know what I'm gonna do when they're not little anymore. Then what will distract me, make me laugh, cheer me up? It's already happening so fast. My rational mind tells me that I can hopefully still have fun with them and that it could possibly be even more fun to hang out with them as adults than it is now. Grown-up kids that I don't have to nag & worry about (as much) and cute little grand kids sounds wonderful. My mom mind panics and worries that they might decide to move far, far away because they don't like me anymore. What if they like their in-laws more than us? I'll miss them so much.
I just want to savor every little moment that I have with them. I want to remember not to yell at them when they play pranks (rubber band on the handheld sprayer at the kitchen sink comes to mind) and just soak up the spirit that they bring into our home. I found out today that my heart isn't doing as well as I thought it was. I knew it hurt, but I thought that was just from all of the love that I feel for these guys. I didn't realize that if I'm not careful it could cut my time with them short. I so desperately want to get healthy fast so that I don't miss a moment. The thought of not being there for them and not having the privilege of being there to witness all of their story as it's being made almost paralyzes me with fear. Being a parent is just such an amazing gift and I am so truly, madly, deeply in love with my family. Plus, I even like them.
Just a reminder: go hug your loved ones.
Thursday, October 23, 2008
Elders & Adoption
A couple of years ago our cat had kittens (a whopping 8.) They were the cutest little things. One evening, the missionaries stopped in for a visit and we entertained them with kitten watching. About an hour after they left to go knock on all of our neighbor's doors, they came back with a little black kitten that looked to be the same age as ours. As they handed it to us saying, "We found this escapee down the block" we were pretty confused since it looked like it could be ours but none of our kittens were missing (or able to get that far yet) and the mama cat hadn't even gone outside since she'd had them.
We joined the Elders in walking around the neighborhood (their second time- if you think people are unhappy to have missionaries knocking on their door the first time you should really see the replay...) and asked all of our neighbors if they knew this kitten. Of course, no one did. So, we took the poor baby who couldn't be more than a week old and wouldn't be able to survive for long back to our mama cat hoping that she would accept it (although the missionaries were all excited about the prospect of her freaking out on it- 19 year old boys, you know.) Thankfully, as she lay there on her side with 8 kittens already fighting over a spot to nurse, she seemed to understand and made room for this little guy.
Tonight I was making breakfast for dinner & enlisted the kids to help out. I usually don't love making breakfast for dinner since the multi-tasking of stirring scrambled eggs, and flipping pancakes, and turning sausage, etc. isn't really my thing. I'm more the throw everything in the crock-pot or in a 13x9 baking dish so that I can do other things while it cooks & only have one pan to wash when it's over sort of girl. The kids are all getting old enough to hold their own in the kitchen though, so we threw caution to the wind and scrambled some eggs. As we cooked, someone said, "Remember that little kitten named Elder that Alley Cat adopted?" and the memory came back to me. It made me feel so sentimental thinking of how we named it Elder after the two guys in white shirts & ties that found it.
Then, I started thinking... why can't we humans be so ready & willing to take in kids that are lost / abandoned / orphaned? I've been trying to talk my hubby into foster care for the last few years. I suddenly felt inspired to go guilt trip him with a reminder of the willingness of our cat to serve the less fortunate. If she could love that kitten as her own just because we handed it to her, why couldn't we do the same? Sure, she only had to nurse it for 6 weeks and then we found all the kittens new homes and the mama cat got her freedom back, but...
We joined the Elders in walking around the neighborhood (their second time- if you think people are unhappy to have missionaries knocking on their door the first time you should really see the replay...) and asked all of our neighbors if they knew this kitten. Of course, no one did. So, we took the poor baby who couldn't be more than a week old and wouldn't be able to survive for long back to our mama cat hoping that she would accept it (although the missionaries were all excited about the prospect of her freaking out on it- 19 year old boys, you know.) Thankfully, as she lay there on her side with 8 kittens already fighting over a spot to nurse, she seemed to understand and made room for this little guy.
Tonight I was making breakfast for dinner & enlisted the kids to help out. I usually don't love making breakfast for dinner since the multi-tasking of stirring scrambled eggs, and flipping pancakes, and turning sausage, etc. isn't really my thing. I'm more the throw everything in the crock-pot or in a 13x9 baking dish so that I can do other things while it cooks & only have one pan to wash when it's over sort of girl. The kids are all getting old enough to hold their own in the kitchen though, so we threw caution to the wind and scrambled some eggs. As we cooked, someone said, "Remember that little kitten named Elder that Alley Cat adopted?" and the memory came back to me. It made me feel so sentimental thinking of how we named it Elder after the two guys in white shirts & ties that found it.
Then, I started thinking... why can't we humans be so ready & willing to take in kids that are lost / abandoned / orphaned? I've been trying to talk my hubby into foster care for the last few years. I suddenly felt inspired to go guilt trip him with a reminder of the willingness of our cat to serve the less fortunate. If she could love that kitten as her own just because we handed it to her, why couldn't we do the same? Sure, she only had to nurse it for 6 weeks and then we found all the kittens new homes and the mama cat got her freedom back, but...
Beyond My Control
So, yesterday I did not one but TWO cheerful, Pollyanna style posts. I guess that means that today it's okay to vent a little. You see, while yesterday was in fact a good day with home improvements that didn't cost me anything and a weight being lifted off of my shoulders after a fabulous parent-teacher conference, there was some major stress inducing stuff too. So stress inducing in fact, that I had a really hard time going to sleep and am sporting a killer migraine and an upset stomach.
In the AM, what had me feeling spastic (besides the diet pills) was that Lane had told me the night before that he was really concerned about one of his friends at school. Lane was upset because his friend has been talking about suicide a lot & had apparently cut himself with a rusty nail at recess on purpose. He asked me if it was okay to be a tattle-tale if you were protecting someone (which from previous conversations he knows is my rule, but I think he needed permission to ease his mind.) I was so proud of my little man, because he was so insightful and mature about the whole situation. I'm not sure I would have been as capable of handling a friend telling me something like this when I was in the 5th grade. He said, "Mom, I don't really believe he's going to do it. I think he just likes to talk about it for the shock factor, but I think I need to tell the teacher just in case." Then, he asked me if I would be okay with emailing or calling the teacher instead so he wasn't officially the nark. So, I did & hopefully this little boy will be able to get the help that he needs. It's so hard to think that my kids are getting old enough to be involved with this type of thing.
In the PM, my stress was more associated with my parental units & the fall-out from their rather nasty divorce. Without divulging TOO MANY details, I'll say that I've been trying super hard to not get in the middle of it. I'm a grown-up. They're grown-ups. It should technically be fairly simple. It's hard though, because I see & hear things that just make me want to run in & fix everything (as if that were possible.) Not fix their marriage / get them back together because I don't actually think that's for the best, but fix the pain. I want to fix the hurt feelings & stubbornness that have escalated the situation so severally. I want to erase the financial problems, the worry, and the guilt.
I'm the oldest child in my family & I have siblings that still live at home with my mom. My little sister is about the same age as my second child. Her world & my kid's world are entirely different though. She knows all too well about the adult world of what happens when you don't have enough money and how you can get attached to people and then have them ripped out of your life. So, when I came home from Cub Scouts & my mom was in front of my house and told me that her car is breaking down, and she lost her food stamp money because my dad said he was paying her child support even though she hasn't gotten any, and now she's getting evicted... It broke my heart. Honestly, there's only so much that I can do though. And when I dropped my kids off at school and I saw my little sister's body language as she bossed a classmate around & I knew that she was feeling like everything was out of control and trying to grasp for some sense of power, it made me feel like I had rocks in my stomach. Not to mention, knowing that someone you love is in pain right on the heels of thinking of a little 11 y/o boy who is hurting isn't really the perspective you want to see it in. While I know that the two situations are different there are enough similiarities to be bothersome.
The reality is, I have always taken on everyone else's problems and feel like I need to slap a band-aid on everything around me. I know that I can only own myself and be responsible for my own actions though. There's really not a lot of point in worrying myself sick about my kid's friends or even my own extended family further than I can do something about it. That's easier said than done, but really- what else is there to do? If I could, I would... I just wish there was a little less heartbreak in the world. Don't we all?
In the AM, what had me feeling spastic (besides the diet pills) was that Lane had told me the night before that he was really concerned about one of his friends at school. Lane was upset because his friend has been talking about suicide a lot & had apparently cut himself with a rusty nail at recess on purpose. He asked me if it was okay to be a tattle-tale if you were protecting someone (which from previous conversations he knows is my rule, but I think he needed permission to ease his mind.) I was so proud of my little man, because he was so insightful and mature about the whole situation. I'm not sure I would have been as capable of handling a friend telling me something like this when I was in the 5th grade. He said, "Mom, I don't really believe he's going to do it. I think he just likes to talk about it for the shock factor, but I think I need to tell the teacher just in case." Then, he asked me if I would be okay with emailing or calling the teacher instead so he wasn't officially the nark. So, I did & hopefully this little boy will be able to get the help that he needs. It's so hard to think that my kids are getting old enough to be involved with this type of thing.
In the PM, my stress was more associated with my parental units & the fall-out from their rather nasty divorce. Without divulging TOO MANY details, I'll say that I've been trying super hard to not get in the middle of it. I'm a grown-up. They're grown-ups. It should technically be fairly simple. It's hard though, because I see & hear things that just make me want to run in & fix everything (as if that were possible.) Not fix their marriage / get them back together because I don't actually think that's for the best, but fix the pain. I want to fix the hurt feelings & stubbornness that have escalated the situation so severally. I want to erase the financial problems, the worry, and the guilt.
I'm the oldest child in my family & I have siblings that still live at home with my mom. My little sister is about the same age as my second child. Her world & my kid's world are entirely different though. She knows all too well about the adult world of what happens when you don't have enough money and how you can get attached to people and then have them ripped out of your life. So, when I came home from Cub Scouts & my mom was in front of my house and told me that her car is breaking down, and she lost her food stamp money because my dad said he was paying her child support even though she hasn't gotten any, and now she's getting evicted... It broke my heart. Honestly, there's only so much that I can do though. And when I dropped my kids off at school and I saw my little sister's body language as she bossed a classmate around & I knew that she was feeling like everything was out of control and trying to grasp for some sense of power, it made me feel like I had rocks in my stomach. Not to mention, knowing that someone you love is in pain right on the heels of thinking of a little 11 y/o boy who is hurting isn't really the perspective you want to see it in. While I know that the two situations are different there are enough similiarities to be bothersome.
The reality is, I have always taken on everyone else's problems and feel like I need to slap a band-aid on everything around me. I know that I can only own myself and be responsible for my own actions though. There's really not a lot of point in worrying myself sick about my kid's friends or even my own extended family further than I can do something about it. That's easier said than done, but really- what else is there to do? If I could, I would... I just wish there was a little less heartbreak in the world. Don't we all?
Wednesday, October 22, 2008
I'm Lovin' It
Today I love my life. Why? You ask... Simple really. I feel like a rich person who can afford to hire people for home improvement projects but I don't have to pay for it. That's why. It's flipping sweet. For those of you who don't know, we're live-in caretakers at a county park. I debated on whether to actually say that considering the whole creepy people in Internet land thing, but I decided to roll the dice. Anyway... our roof started leaking this week. We had a pretty good down pour and what do you know? It was raining inside too! If we were homeowners this would have kicked our trash. However, we just called the county and they came out to measure for a new roof pronto. Now, they're up there putting it on & I'm sitting here typing away hoping they don't come crashing through my ceiling. This morning, the lawnmower man showed up to mow. So, between the visit from our "landscaper" and the new roof it's looking pretty decent around here. Our stinking counter tops in the kitchen are falling apart (literally, it's ceramic tile and they keep coming off and shattering when they hit the floor.) So, the county said I could choose the new counter tops. I feel spoiled. Sure, we aren't building up any equity here like we would be if say, we owned the place & these upgrades were going towards raising our property value or something... but it makes me feel so blessed to have all these people slamming out the work on my home. If I owned the place, sadly... it would probably not look as nice 'cause I wouldn't have the time or the money. So, yay for the opportunity to scrub public toilets in exchange for rent!
Hope & Relief
- I had such a nice conference with Lane's teachers the other day. I really like them. It was way better than I had expected, in fact. I think one of the worst parts of having a child who struggles in school is having the feelings as a parent of helplessness and wounded pride and ultimately guilt that goes along with it (at least for me.) Sure, I'm worried about him & his future and all of that. I somehow suspect though, that he's going to be okay. I know that there is so much more to life than a letter grade on paper & that a lot of people who were poor students end up being successful later. In the mean time, I don't like feeling like I'm SUPPOSED to enforce raising his grades and feeling incompetent to do so.
Going in to conferences I always kind of wish I had a rock to hide under because I'm sure that the teacher is wondering what type of messed up family life and poor parenting this child has had to get him to this particular level. I feel the need to explain defensively that we have tried SO MANY things to no avail, that while we're imperfect parents we're making an effort, and that we do have other kids who are doing fairly well in school. Yes, I realize that proving that we have 3 out of 4 kids who are getting decent grades isn't really what the teacher needs to know and that pride cometh before the fall... but I've gotta hold on to a morsel of validation that we're not all together failing our children's educational needs.
Anyway... the teachers were terrific. The didn't look at me like a white trash parent at all (or at least if they were thinking it they hid it well.) They told me how great of a kid they thought he was and I got the impression that they really meant it. They acknowledged that we had tried all sorts of stuff and that he was just one of those kids that traditional school didn't work for & that it wasn't his fault. They asked about his interests and talents and said that kids like him always find their niche. They understood that he is very artsy and always off in his own little world and that while that's problematic when you need him to be in the present during math that being a dreamer wasn't necessarily a bad thing. I felt like we were actually a team working together to brainstorm ways to help him and that everything was really going to be all right for him this school year. The things that were said that meant the most to me were:
"He's so well-behaved. He's nice to absolutely everybody, even the kids that no one else is nice to and the kids that aren't nice to him. If I had to choose between a kid getting good grades but being a jerk and a kid getting poor grades but being a good person, I'd take the kids with poor grades. So, he has some really redeeming qualities."
"Have you heard that students of band continue to outperform their non-band peers on the SAT? Plus, being musical can open up a lot of doors for him too. There are a ton of careers that he can pursue in the Arts and make a fortune. Just think, if he does end up writing a science fiction novel or something how much money he could get. There's nothing wrong with being an extremely creative person."
"It's these kind of kids that always find their niche. He might be 35 before he finds it, but he'll find something that he can excel in. Our job right now is to quit setting him up for failure & start making it possible for him to experience success. Whether that be assigning less work and helping him with task completion so he isn't always behind or changing his schedule so that he can do better in the classes that he has, our main priority needs to be to accommodate him & raise his self-esteem."
So, I walked out of that conference just feeling such hope & relief. When I got home, I told him how awesome his teachers thought he was & that I was so proud of him for standing out as one of the nice kids. Now, I feel like I have permission to get off his back about schoolwork and to just celebrate his achievements instead. I've always known that he was a great kid and felt like we just needed to "get through" this school thing and that he had enough other good qualities and skills to hopefully compensate. I've heard lots of stories of people who suddenly "got it" as an adult and I've hoped that he would be one of those guys that finally understood what his teachers had been trying to teach him once he got out in to the real world and needed those skills. I've just never felt like his teachers saw that & I felt a certain pressure to prove that there was an effort being made and that he had potential. It's so refreshing to know that his teachers are on the same page & that they're willing to put out the effort to help him realize his potential too.
Sunday, October 12, 2008
Nostalgic
I'm feeling very nostalgic this afternoon. I'm not sure why. I decided to make a digital scrapbook of some of my favorite Halloween memories. The kids are SO MUCH bigger now than even just last Halloween. Scary stuff. Brooke has already started making plans for when she moves out of our house. :-( We were riding in the car the other day and she told me (again) that she won't be living with me when she's a grown up. Her main motivator? "Girls that live with their parents are fat." Where does she get this stuff? I'm kinda concerned that she worries about the whole fat thing too much for a 6 year old.
Of course, the other day she was self-concious about her teeth too. She told me, "Mom, I really do have horse teeth. They're too thick like horse teeth are, but they're only midget horse teeth 'cause they're shorties. They're short & chubby baby horse teeth." Who knew you could use the words "horse teeth" so many times in only 3 sentences?
Oh, and you should have heard her trying to explain why I shouldn't be upset with her for being awake WAY past her bed time. It sounded like this: "I'm the kind of person who's body just does whatever it wants to. I can't control it, so you can't be mad at me. Just be mad at my body, but not my head. My head is mad at my body too, but I'm not the kinda person who can just make myself go to sleep even if I want to. If my body doesn't want to sleep only God can force it to. I can't force myself to sleep, you know, 'cause I'm not that kinda person." She really does just babble on and on repeating variations of the same phrases all the time. It cracks me up. I swear she didn't even know how to talk like... yesterday. Now she never stops. Where did the last 6 years go and are the next 6 going to fly by as quickly? I hope not!
Then, the other day my friend Jenny and I were talking about what our kids prefer to sleep in (because her adorable son Niall was here for a sleepover with Russell) and it reminded me of what Tatton used to sleep in. You see, Tatton decided that he wasn't getting a good nights sleep due to always waking up cold after he kicked the blankets off. He decided it would be best to start getting dressed for school the night before and wearing a coat to bed. To him, this was an ingeniusly effecient plan since he was saving time in the AM and staying consistently warm. I let him do his thing and just chuckled at the way his cute little mind worked & never gave it a second thought. That is, until I went to foster parent certification classes and there was a chunk of class devoted to "what to expect when you're expecting foster kids" as in what problem behaviours were common. They made a big deal out of how a lot of foster kids "prefer to sleep in their clothes instead of pajamas". The reasons that they listed off (being homeless, being sexually abused, having become accustomed to unpredictability/ the need to pick up & run at a moments notice all made sense) but I still felt a little defensive about the sleeping in a coat thing. I didn't want people to just assume that there was something "wrong" if they found out that Tatton slept fully clothed including a coat. LOL Now, he's a sleeping in boxers man and it seems kind of sad that this is just a memory to be pulled out of the archives for a good chuckle.
Of course, the other day she was self-concious about her teeth too. She told me, "Mom, I really do have horse teeth. They're too thick like horse teeth are, but they're only midget horse teeth 'cause they're shorties. They're short & chubby baby horse teeth." Who knew you could use the words "horse teeth" so many times in only 3 sentences?
Oh, and you should have heard her trying to explain why I shouldn't be upset with her for being awake WAY past her bed time. It sounded like this: "I'm the kind of person who's body just does whatever it wants to. I can't control it, so you can't be mad at me. Just be mad at my body, but not my head. My head is mad at my body too, but I'm not the kinda person who can just make myself go to sleep even if I want to. If my body doesn't want to sleep only God can force it to. I can't force myself to sleep, you know, 'cause I'm not that kinda person." She really does just babble on and on repeating variations of the same phrases all the time. It cracks me up. I swear she didn't even know how to talk like... yesterday. Now she never stops. Where did the last 6 years go and are the next 6 going to fly by as quickly? I hope not!
Then, the other day my friend Jenny and I were talking about what our kids prefer to sleep in (because her adorable son Niall was here for a sleepover with Russell) and it reminded me of what Tatton used to sleep in. You see, Tatton decided that he wasn't getting a good nights sleep due to always waking up cold after he kicked the blankets off. He decided it would be best to start getting dressed for school the night before and wearing a coat to bed. To him, this was an ingeniusly effecient plan since he was saving time in the AM and staying consistently warm. I let him do his thing and just chuckled at the way his cute little mind worked & never gave it a second thought. That is, until I went to foster parent certification classes and there was a chunk of class devoted to "what to expect when you're expecting foster kids" as in what problem behaviours were common. They made a big deal out of how a lot of foster kids "prefer to sleep in their clothes instead of pajamas". The reasons that they listed off (being homeless, being sexually abused, having become accustomed to unpredictability/ the need to pick up & run at a moments notice all made sense) but I still felt a little defensive about the sleeping in a coat thing. I didn't want people to just assume that there was something "wrong" if they found out that Tatton slept fully clothed including a coat. LOL Now, he's a sleeping in boxers man and it seems kind of sad that this is just a memory to be pulled out of the archives for a good chuckle.
Anyway... just thinking. Wow, they're growing up fast. Lane keeps talking to me about how concerned he is about the economy and his views on Obama's health plan and of course, whether or not shaving will help his peach fuzz grow in thicker. *sigh*
Monday, October 6, 2008
Super Cool Contest!!! (Because It's Cheaper Than Therapy)
I've had blog block this week. I've never understood how anyone could get writer's block. My problem has always been trying to hold the flood of words in my head from spilling out in excess. This week, I finally experienced the feeling of wanting to write something and drawing a blank. Craziness. It's not that there weren't things that I wanted to talk about. There were LOTS of things I wanted to blab about, in fact. The only way that I could even fathom sharing those things was if I changed the names to protect the "innocent" and I'm pretty sure all of my readers are too smart for that. What's the point of changing names when all of your friends & family are such smart cookies that they'll figure it out anyway? It stinks 'cause I love blogging (it's cheaper than therapy) but unlike real therapy (where you are protected by confidentiality laws) this sort of blabbing involves the WORLD WIDE web.
Now, I personally don't have a whole lot to work with in the boundaries department. Supposedly, it's not very psychologically healthy to be ready, willing, & able to tell your whole life story to perfect strangers in the grocery store line. That's just the way I roll though. So, if the only thing I blogged about was me, myself, and I there would be no blog block. Unfortunately, most of the really juicy, great for retelling sort of stuff in my life involves other people who are slightly more private than I am. I thought about getting them all to sign coyly worded consent forms allowing me the freedom to disclose their life stories, but you know, they're smart cookies too and I don't think they would fall for it. Anyway, I'm pretty sure using the dirt you have on other people for blog fodder is breaking the less than well known 11th commandment.
So... what DO I write about when the only things I've had on my mind would be way too incriminating for certain individuals? I don't want to fall back on to the safe subjects like my daughter's stubbornness or my trying to lose weight or even how badly I want a baby even though I have self-imposed infertility. I CAN'T write about any one's love lives, brushes with the law, or hilariously embarrassing mishaps that we snicker about behind their backs and cross our fingers that karma doesn't come back to bite us in the rear for laughing about it. Furthermore, I don't really care to touch politics or religion. Not because they're taboo so much as the fact that I'm so on the fence about what I think that you would think that I was the politician talking in circles. When I know what I think you'll be the first to know. So, here's the deal... you throw some ideas my way and I'll reward the creative genius who comes up with the best blog subject with a mystery prize. Believe me, if I can get "Hannah Montana" to send a surprise gift to my daughter, I can send a little sumpin sumpin your way! The contest is open until midnight Pacific Mountain time on Friday. On your marks, get set, GO!!!
Thursday, October 2, 2008
I'm A Big Freaking Liar
This is the post where I publicly out myself as a liar. It seemed perfectly innocent. Just a little white lie. I was at Walmart yesterday and I saw an ADORABLE little shirt that would look cute on Brookie. Then, out of the corner of my eye I spotted an even cuter headband. I could just picture her in them... AND they were on clearance! Problem: as most of you know Brooke is a very selective clothes wearer. I knew these were exactly the type of clothes that I loved and she hated, so accepting defeat, I put them back so that some other mother could come along and snatch them up for her little girl to look darling in.
I went about my business, gathering up the usual boring necessities: shampoo, toilet paper, toothpaste... Then, it occurred to me! "Brilliant!", I thought, amazed at my own creativity. It was so simple. The head band was a Hannah Montana brand and Brooke is a HUGE Hannah Montana fan. I decided then and there that I would buy them and wrap them up in a shipping box. I addressed the box to Brooke and made up a fake address for Miley Cyrus as the sender. I ran out and stuck it in the mail box knowing that Brooke loves to check the mail when she gets off the school bus. I couldn't wait for her to get home & discover it!
All of a sudden, it occurred to me that this plan of mine wasn't quite as flawless as I had originally believed. For starters, I was getting a twinge of guilt for lying to her. That was easy enough to ignore though. I told myself I lie to her about the tooth fairy & Santa in the same spirit of fun & anticipation. The stinker was that I didn't want her to go to school wearing said items and brag that she had gotten them as a gift from Hannah Montana and have everyone call her a liar. My child couldn't get called a liar for her mother's lie, after all! So, I typed up a letter from "Miley" about how she had this new product line and she chose some of her coolest girl fans to send free product trials to. "She" said that she thought Brooke had great taste and was hoping she could wear the shirt & headband to school so that other girls would want to go out and buy some. It was all a great, big marketing gimmick. Somehow, this sounded like a feasible explanation to me. Bonus: every time that I wanted to buy Brooke something & have her actually be excited to wear it instead of fighting me on it I could just send her another "shipment" to "product test". In my lying mind I foresaw all of our wardrobe battles being a thing of the past.
Unfortunately, my daughter is officially smarter than I am. She was skeptical from the minute she checked the mail.
"Uh, Mom... why does she have the same handwriting as you?", she asked.
"Hmmm... that's interesting. It does look a little like mine. That's cool that Miley and I write the same way."
She casually opened the package as if it were a box of canned peas or something equally boring. And you know what she said? "Oh." That's it! "Oh."
So, I played it up. "Wow! That is SOOOO cool! I can't believe that came from MILEY CYRUS!!!"
"I can't wear that to school."
"Why?"
"It's too cute."
"Of course it's cute, it came from Miley Cyrus! She always looks cute!"
"Ya... I'm not wearing that."
So, I guess I'll just return them to the store. My "brilliant" plan was an abysmal failure. The worst part? This morning I tried to convince her to just "be brave & wear it one time for Miley." She said, "Good try, Mom." I guess I may be a liar, but I'm not a very good one.
I went about my business, gathering up the usual boring necessities: shampoo, toilet paper, toothpaste... Then, it occurred to me! "Brilliant!", I thought, amazed at my own creativity. It was so simple. The head band was a Hannah Montana brand and Brooke is a HUGE Hannah Montana fan. I decided then and there that I would buy them and wrap them up in a shipping box. I addressed the box to Brooke and made up a fake address for Miley Cyrus as the sender. I ran out and stuck it in the mail box knowing that Brooke loves to check the mail when she gets off the school bus. I couldn't wait for her to get home & discover it!
All of a sudden, it occurred to me that this plan of mine wasn't quite as flawless as I had originally believed. For starters, I was getting a twinge of guilt for lying to her. That was easy enough to ignore though. I told myself I lie to her about the tooth fairy & Santa in the same spirit of fun & anticipation. The stinker was that I didn't want her to go to school wearing said items and brag that she had gotten them as a gift from Hannah Montana and have everyone call her a liar. My child couldn't get called a liar for her mother's lie, after all! So, I typed up a letter from "Miley" about how she had this new product line and she chose some of her coolest girl fans to send free product trials to. "She" said that she thought Brooke had great taste and was hoping she could wear the shirt & headband to school so that other girls would want to go out and buy some. It was all a great, big marketing gimmick. Somehow, this sounded like a feasible explanation to me. Bonus: every time that I wanted to buy Brooke something & have her actually be excited to wear it instead of fighting me on it I could just send her another "shipment" to "product test". In my lying mind I foresaw all of our wardrobe battles being a thing of the past.
Unfortunately, my daughter is officially smarter than I am. She was skeptical from the minute she checked the mail.
"Uh, Mom... why does she have the same handwriting as you?", she asked.
"Hmmm... that's interesting. It does look a little like mine. That's cool that Miley and I write the same way."
She casually opened the package as if it were a box of canned peas or something equally boring. And you know what she said? "Oh." That's it! "Oh."
So, I played it up. "Wow! That is SOOOO cool! I can't believe that came from MILEY CYRUS!!!"
"I can't wear that to school."
"Why?"
"It's too cute."
"Of course it's cute, it came from Miley Cyrus! She always looks cute!"
"Ya... I'm not wearing that."
So, I guess I'll just return them to the store. My "brilliant" plan was an abysmal failure. The worst part? This morning I tried to convince her to just "be brave & wear it one time for Miley." She said, "Good try, Mom." I guess I may be a liar, but I'm not a very good one.
Monday, September 22, 2008
To Buy Or Not To Buy... That Is The Question
To buy or not to buy... that is the question. I don't even want to know how much money I've actually spent over these 12 years of parenting on educational supplies. I'm a compulsive book buyer. We have flash cards, we have CD-Roms, we have workbooks and board games... not a whole lot of it has proven to raise my kids' grades signifigantly. So, when a telemarketer called me this morning to guilt me into try to sell me a CD-ROM system that supposedly raises your child's IQ by at least 30 points and brings them up 2 letter grades, I was both intrigued and skeptical. I had already spent an insane amount of money on something similiar just this summer. I had been planning on going to Sylvan, but this program was less expensive and we could use it in the comfort of our own home (Sylvan is a 40 minute drive away a few times a week after all.) I figured if it didn't work out we could always resort to Sylvan after we tried this other program. Well, school is now in session and we never did go to Sylvan. That isn't to say that the other program was so amazing that we didn't need to. I just didn't feel like it would work motivated to try yet another thing after so many other things hadn't gotten results.
Each Friday all the kids bring home progress reports and a certain someone continues to decorate his progress reports with a certain letter that starts the words Flaky and Fragile and Fail. I have NO idea what to do about this. I've tried SO hard. I read to him diligently from birth on. He grew up watching Sesame Street and Between The Lions and Magic School Bus. Like I said, we've invested in just about every educational product that we came across, especially the ones that are supposed to "trick" you into learning by making it into something fun (like a computer game.) Even my shower curtain is a giant world map (you never know what you might subconciously learn while in the bathroom after all.) I have FOUR kids and I've parented them all the same. They all have access to the same books & products & discipline. Yet, they all have different strengths and weaknesses. I have one kid pulling in straight A+'s and complaining he's bored and another that has such poor grades that we celebrate when he gets C's. Speaking of celebrating, we've also tried a variety of reward & incentive programs. None of them seemed to be rewarding enough / effective.
So... when the phone rang and this gentleman (who was a fabulous salesman, BTW) worked to convince me that I would be a horrible mother if I didn't give him a debit card number so that my kids could become genius rocket scientists that win the Nobel Prize,I didn't know what to think or feel. What do you think, educated reader? Haven't I spent enough moolah over the years in this department? If the school can't get him to learn and all these other products can't get through to him either... why should this one be any different? Or... maybe, just maybe I SHOULD get it. Maybe I should sell a kidney or something so that I can afford to hire the world's best tutors and buy every educational CD-ROM in the english language and a couple of french & spanish ones for good measure? What would you do?
Each Friday all the kids bring home progress reports and a certain someone continues to decorate his progress reports with a certain letter that starts the words Flaky and Fragile and Fail. I have NO idea what to do about this. I've tried SO hard. I read to him diligently from birth on. He grew up watching Sesame Street and Between The Lions and Magic School Bus. Like I said, we've invested in just about every educational product that we came across, especially the ones that are supposed to "trick" you into learning by making it into something fun (like a computer game.) Even my shower curtain is a giant world map (you never know what you might subconciously learn while in the bathroom after all.) I have FOUR kids and I've parented them all the same. They all have access to the same books & products & discipline. Yet, they all have different strengths and weaknesses. I have one kid pulling in straight A+'s and complaining he's bored and another that has such poor grades that we celebrate when he gets C's. Speaking of celebrating, we've also tried a variety of reward & incentive programs. None of them seemed to be rewarding enough / effective.
So... when the phone rang and this gentleman (who was a fabulous salesman, BTW) worked to convince me that I would be a horrible mother if I didn't give him a debit card number so that my kids could become genius rocket scientists that win the Nobel Prize,I didn't know what to think or feel. What do you think, educated reader? Haven't I spent enough moolah over the years in this department? If the school can't get him to learn and all these other products can't get through to him either... why should this one be any different? Or... maybe, just maybe I SHOULD get it. Maybe I should sell a kidney or something so that I can afford to hire the world's best tutors and buy every educational CD-ROM in the english language and a couple of french & spanish ones for good measure? What would you do?
Sunday, September 21, 2008
So that's What Brooke Thinks Of Me...
I found this idea on Kelly's blog & thought it was cute. Here's what Brooke answered:
1) What is something mom always says to you? I love you
2) What makes mom happy? when I'm nice to her
3) What makes mom sad? when the kids don't do what she says
4) What does you mom do to make you laugh? tell jokes
5) How old is your mom? 29
6) What was your mom like as a child? a good little girl
7) How tall is your mom? I don't know
8) What is your mom's favorite thing to do? go on the computer
9) What does your mom do when your not around? stay at home bored
10) If your mom becomes famous, what will it be for? because she's a rockstar
11) What is your mom really good at? cleaning
12) What is your mom not so good at? running
13) What does your mom do for her job? lock up the gates at night
14) What is your mom's favorite food? spicy???
15) What makes you proud of your mom? nothing
16) If your mom were a cartoon character, who would she be? Dora's Mom
17) What do you and your mom do together? walk up Strawberry Hill
18) How are you and your mom the same? we're both girls
19) How are you and your mom different? I play and she doesn't
20) How do you know your mom loves you? because she says it
Saturday, September 20, 2008
What Goes Up Must Come Down
What goes up must come down. This applies to children's moods as well. You can bet that when my kids have had an exceptionally good day they're going to melt down at bedtime. You would think that having a good day would equal going to bed happy but this is simply not the way it works. In our family we refer to this phenomenon as "having too much fun." Yesterday was a VERY fun day. It started off with a hyped up PTA assembly at school. Then, I brought birthday cupcakes into Russell's 2nd grade class. As soon as Russell got off the bus his dad took him to play golf while we set up for his "surprise" party (that he had basically planned himself.) His friends & family came, wolfed down 9 pizzas, a carrot cake, cheesecake ripple brownies, vanilla ice cream, and root beer. He opened a ton of really cool presents and found out that his dad had actually found a way to get him the quad (actually two) that he hasn't stopped talking about for a month. He and his friends took turns riding the quads for an hour or so and when it was finally too dark to ride anymore we calmed down by watching Speed Racer. Seriously fun day. I think Tatton's face says it best:
Today... well, today was busy and fun as well. There were new birthday toys to play with and a special birthday breakfast to consume before we rushed off to multiple soccer games. Once the soccer games were out of the way there were quads to ride again, of course. Then, Russ decided to pull a klondike and take a swim in the lake even though it's a tad bit chilly out today. Back to back fun times. Until... too much fun. Taking turns on the quads (or the lack thereof) spurred a fist fight. I jumped in and seperated the brutes within moments, but blood was shed regardless. So, everyone was sent to their own corners for a little quiet time. It has been a LONG time since my kids have been young enough to have manditory nap time, but we broke manditory nap time out of retirement. As I sit here typing, all 4 children are in tears in their respective corners (again.) Which brings me to my point: slow & steady is the name of the game. Kids are WAY better off having fun in small doses, which is the best way to fully enjoy it. Fun & candy are very similiar in the sense that a little goes a long way and when you've overdosed you just don't feel so well because what goes up must come down.
Today... well, today was busy and fun as well. There were new birthday toys to play with and a special birthday breakfast to consume before we rushed off to multiple soccer games. Once the soccer games were out of the way there were quads to ride again, of course. Then, Russ decided to pull a klondike and take a swim in the lake even though it's a tad bit chilly out today. Back to back fun times. Until... too much fun. Taking turns on the quads (or the lack thereof) spurred a fist fight. I jumped in and seperated the brutes within moments, but blood was shed regardless. So, everyone was sent to their own corners for a little quiet time. It has been a LONG time since my kids have been young enough to have manditory nap time, but we broke manditory nap time out of retirement. As I sit here typing, all 4 children are in tears in their respective corners (again.) Which brings me to my point: slow & steady is the name of the game. Kids are WAY better off having fun in small doses, which is the best way to fully enjoy it. Fun & candy are very similiar in the sense that a little goes a long way and when you've overdosed you just don't feel so well because what goes up must come down.
Friday, September 19, 2008
Ode To Russell
Eight years ago tomorrow we welcomed Russell into the world. I can't believe it's been that long! He has been such an amazing addition to our family and (as with all of our children) I can't imagine our world without him.
Russell enjoys all the stereotypical "guy" stuff. He loves anything with wheels, but especially quads and muscle cars. He loves playing "army guys", fishing, and building things (forts, bike jumps, taking apart things he's not supposed to take apart to try & turn it into something else...) He has an amazing talent for music and can sing really well and plays songs on the keyboard by ear (even though he's way too shy to let anyone see him do that.) His favorite foods are corn dogs and cheese quesadillas. He throws a mean spiral and is pretty good at golf for his age. He's such an interesting kid. He's one of the only kids I know that loves hard work and cleaning. He's very OCD-ish (actually he probably DOES have it since his big bro Lane really does and it is genetic.) He gets really particular about his room being organized & gets nervous about germs (he uses more neosporin and band-aids than anyone else I know.) Russell doesn't love to watch TV or movies and complains when his brothers are "too busy sitting around being lazy butts & couch potatoes" to play with him. He is incredibly protective of his little sister and even though he rolls his eyes and declares her "so spoiled" he is amazingly patient with her. All she has to say is "my legs are tired" and he scoops her up and carries her. (She really IS spoiled!) He's not a big fan of school work, but he likes recess and school lunches. I'm so proud of what an amazing man he's growing into and just want to take today to say how blessed I feel to have Russell for my son.
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