Time to come clean:
I have now seen all the Twilight movies. Oh there's more....the most recent one....I saw the day it opened.
Okay now it's out there.
I went with my friend J, and evidently every other mom whose kids were in school or day care also went to that matinee, and as luck would have it another PTO mom saw me there and then "outed" me on Facebook later that day. Oddly I actually was a little embarrassed that day. I don't always like to be one of the "masses" especially of popular culture. But based Twilight reading/watching and that I am Michael Buble, and Hugh Jackman fan you could say that I am very much a typical thirty-something mom/woman....and there is nothing so wrong with that.
Chief is going to love this: He watched the first three movies with me (borrowed from the same friend I went to the movie with), and he says now he's "invested"
And yes, J and I have plans to see the final one next year.
17 December 2011
15 December 2011
New-Comer
It's no secret that I've been feeling the urge to move. I'll keep my family, but a different house and a different town....I could go for that. I like exploring new places. I like the feeling of being a new-comer...in most places. The one place that I prefer NOT to be a new-comer is the grocery. You spend a lot of time when you are new to a grocery finding out where stuff is...like the Velveeta (it's not with the cheese...but again why would it be? and I admit I'm always a little embarrassed to ask) ...or Shake-n-Bake (you would think that bread crumbs or the like would be in the bread isle, right...but they never are?!) So I must say that I enjoy knowing my way around our commissary, but they are redoing it. CRISIS!!!!! They've just opened part of the new section (they added on) and now all the cold and frozen stuff is in the new part which is the opposite end from where it used to be. It's all backwards and in new places, behind doors and in the wrong order. When I walked in this morning, a nice young woman handed me a flyer about the changes, I almost felt like crying.
It's ridiculous isn't it? Me...I mean. Why would I possible get so upset about a rearranged grocery? For goodness sake, I am writing about it even. It's the feeling of loosing a skill, almost. I've been going to this commissary for almost 3 years, and that may be the longest I've ever used one grocery exclusively. I was like the commissary expert, I didn't need to ask for help. Now I have to start the learning process all over again.... Eventually EVERYTHING will be in a new place....
"excuse me...can you tell me where I can find bread crumbs?" ... "Oh, with the canned vegetables...that makes perfect sense, thank you."
It's ridiculous isn't it? Me...I mean. Why would I possible get so upset about a rearranged grocery? For goodness sake, I am writing about it even. It's the feeling of loosing a skill, almost. I've been going to this commissary for almost 3 years, and that may be the longest I've ever used one grocery exclusively. I was like the commissary expert, I didn't need to ask for help. Now I have to start the learning process all over again.... Eventually EVERYTHING will be in a new place....
"excuse me...can you tell me where I can find bread crumbs?" ... "Oh, with the canned vegetables...that makes perfect sense, thank you."
14 December 2011
Birthdays
Yesterday was my oldest's birthday. He is eight.
When he was first born, I really struggled (you can read about it here) and a good friend of mine said for the first time to me what would become my mantra for getting through this time. "This too shall pass." Though the original author was a Persian poet, I bet he was a parent too.
Those tough times did pass, and while I will never wish to be there again, I do wish my boy would not grow up quite so fast. Each time I look at him I am surprised at how tall he is. His hands and feet have long since lost that chubby baby look.
I keep expecting him to look like this:
Not this tall, toothless boy I see:
When he was first born, I really struggled (you can read about it here) and a good friend of mine said for the first time to me what would become my mantra for getting through this time. "This too shall pass." Though the original author was a Persian poet, I bet he was a parent too.
Those tough times did pass, and while I will never wish to be there again, I do wish my boy would not grow up quite so fast. Each time I look at him I am surprised at how tall he is. His hands and feet have long since lost that chubby baby look.
I keep expecting him to look like this:
09 December 2011
A Meal to Remember
Yesterday was a big day. After all these months of going to the stitching group meetings (or as I like to call them “Grandma Vetting”) I finally got invited to go out with some of them to lunch….at the IHOP. This is a big deal…they don’t just ask anyone to IHOP. I nearly got kicked out because of my dislike of mayonnaise and peanut butter (gasp!) but saved myself with some quick humor on the merits of bacon. Because really who doesn’t like bacon?
Anyway… I was sitting next to one of the oldest members of the group Maxine, born in 1928 and across from my surrogate of choice Erna (MUCH younger…you know like my parents age!). Both of these women were born in Germany and came to live in the United States in the 60’s. Quite suddenly, over the remains of our breakfasts, Maxine and Erna begin to talk of the war, WWII. Sleeping in barns in the country each night, and only going home in the day, or if they did stay sleeping in the basements using shutters and clothing to cover the windows so no light would get out. Watching their town and the towns around them leveled. Erna recalled to me what she and other children used to call the “Christmas Trees”. White phosphorus spreading out as it neared the earth like a shinning tree, only to burn what it touched... Erna said, “we were children…we didn’t know…”
“They were hard times…but there were nice times too.” Erna said, “After the Americans came.” Maxine recalled seeing German soldiers walking down the hill outside town, followed by American soldiers, and the relief of surrender. Hershey bars…Erna’s friend was given one, and to this day, this friend swears that no Hershey bar ever tasted as good as that one. Maxine talked about the package of flour given to them from the Americans; they used it to make a cake…the first they’d had in 6 years. They were happy when their towns and bridges began to be rebuilt.
Then later coming to the US and speaking no English, fearing every time the door bell rang. Maxine said it was dangerous for her to speak German in the early 60’s in the US, I can well believe the anti-German sentiment at the time.
I feel that yesterday’s meal was a once in a lifetime experience for me. “No more war-talk” Maxine said through tears. I couldn't agree more.
Anyway… I was sitting next to one of the oldest members of the group Maxine, born in 1928 and across from my surrogate of choice Erna (MUCH younger…you know like my parents age!). Both of these women were born in Germany and came to live in the United States in the 60’s. Quite suddenly, over the remains of our breakfasts, Maxine and Erna begin to talk of the war, WWII. Sleeping in barns in the country each night, and only going home in the day, or if they did stay sleeping in the basements using shutters and clothing to cover the windows so no light would get out. Watching their town and the towns around them leveled. Erna recalled to me what she and other children used to call the “Christmas Trees”. White phosphorus spreading out as it neared the earth like a shinning tree, only to burn what it touched... Erna said, “we were children…we didn’t know…”
“They were hard times…but there were nice times too.” Erna said, “After the Americans came.” Maxine recalled seeing German soldiers walking down the hill outside town, followed by American soldiers, and the relief of surrender. Hershey bars…Erna’s friend was given one, and to this day, this friend swears that no Hershey bar ever tasted as good as that one. Maxine talked about the package of flour given to them from the Americans; they used it to make a cake…the first they’d had in 6 years. They were happy when their towns and bridges began to be rebuilt.
Then later coming to the US and speaking no English, fearing every time the door bell rang. Maxine said it was dangerous for her to speak German in the early 60’s in the US, I can well believe the anti-German sentiment at the time.
I feel that yesterday’s meal was a once in a lifetime experience for me. “No more war-talk” Maxine said through tears. I couldn't agree more.
29 November 2011
Something that has been bugging me
Recently, sseveral of my FB friends have posted messages like this:
Dear Santa: This year for Christmas I'd like; no wait... Forget that. Get in your sleigh, go to Afghanistan, get our soldiers and bring them home. They deserve to be with their families on Christmas. Post this as your status to show respect, and a special prayer for those soldiers who won't be coming home for Christmas. ♥
First I want to say, that yes! wouldn't it be great if everyone got to spend Christmas with their loved ones? Of course it would. And yes! those men and women that have been away from their families for so long do deserve it, and much more.
Here is where I get annoyed with these posts. It says "show respect" and, to me, showing respect is having respect for them. Respect that they feel a sense of duty and commitment to their country and value their personal sacrifice. Most of these men an women feel that what they are doing is important, important enough to miss Christmas, birthdays, anniversaries, etc.... And to just wish them all home because we miss them, makes all the deaths and sacrifices loose value.
Instead, I suggest that if you must post something like this, say this:
This year for Christmas, bring to the men and women serving our country, our sincere gratitude. I want for them to know that their sacrifices and the sacrifices of their brothers and sisters who have left this world, are not meaningless or forgotten.
I don't know, maybe I get a little too "spun-up" as Chief says. Or maybe you think it's just semantics, maybe it is....
Dear Santa: This year for Christmas I'd like; no wait... Forget that. Get in your sleigh, go to Afghanistan, get our soldiers and bring them home. They deserve to be with their families on Christmas. Post this as your status to show respect, and a special prayer for those soldiers who won't be coming home for Christmas. ♥
First I want to say, that yes! wouldn't it be great if everyone got to spend Christmas with their loved ones? Of course it would. And yes! those men and women that have been away from their families for so long do deserve it, and much more.
Here is where I get annoyed with these posts. It says "show respect" and, to me, showing respect is having respect for them. Respect that they feel a sense of duty and commitment to their country and value their personal sacrifice. Most of these men an women feel that what they are doing is important, important enough to miss Christmas, birthdays, anniversaries, etc.... And to just wish them all home because we miss them, makes all the deaths and sacrifices loose value.
Instead, I suggest that if you must post something like this, say this:
This year for Christmas, bring to the men and women serving our country, our sincere gratitude. I want for them to know that their sacrifices and the sacrifices of their brothers and sisters who have left this world, are not meaningless or forgotten.
I don't know, maybe I get a little too "spun-up" as Chief says. Or maybe you think it's just semantics, maybe it is....
28 November 2011
First Semester
I'm almost done with my first semester of graduate school. 2 weeks left, and two big projects. One that we just received the assignment for yesterday, is due in 6 days and has to be about 15 pages long. Thanks for the research time, Doc! Unlike my undergraduate years (I'd be lying if I didn't admit that saying that makes me feel pretty proud!) I am not a procrastinator. I don't have the time to procrastinate, it's like a messy kitchen. Why leave work undone when you could just do it? I like to work hard and turn my assignments in early, not to be a kiss-up or anything, just so I don't have to think about it anymore. Does that make sense?
So let me tell you, one of my professors this semester is driving me crazy! He is so disorganized and sloppy! He says he'll post something on this day, but he never does....never...it is always two days later before it is available....and for me that is two days after I want to have it done! So 6 days for a research paper? It's like he made us all procrastinate.....Really?!
Are you thinking, "what is she doing writing this when she should be working on her paper?" I am too, but I needed a break from writing so I decided to.......write?
So let me tell you, one of my professors this semester is driving me crazy! He is so disorganized and sloppy! He says he'll post something on this day, but he never does....never...it is always two days later before it is available....and for me that is two days after I want to have it done! So 6 days for a research paper? It's like he made us all procrastinate.....Really?!
Are you thinking, "what is she doing writing this when she should be working on her paper?" I am too, but I needed a break from writing so I decided to.......write?
16 November 2011
Wanted:
Wanted:
Surrogate grandparents for two adorable boys, ages 5 and 7. Need no experience, just genuine affection and care.
We don’t live near my parents or near Chief’s parents and for the last few years I have really felt their absence in the lives of my boys. For the record, my boys LOVE their grandparents, but we don’t get to see them as often as we would if we lived closer. We all miss them.
When I was born both of my grandfathers had already passed away, but I spent time with my Grandmothers, shopping trips on a city bus (that was a first), and sleep-overs, cooking…you know all that normal wonderful Grandma stuff. What I would have done with my grandfathers, took walks, fixed stuff…smoked a pipe? I don’t’ know but that sounds nice…even the pipe part in a weird sentimental kind of way.
If we lived near my parents the boys would get to do that normal wonderful grandma stuff, and with grandpa they would get to take walks, fix-stuff, and nap…you know all the normal grandpa stuff. Sure Chief and I can do all that normal stuff with them, but it is different with a grandparent. They are familiar enough that you are comfortable, but at the same time they are a little mysterious too. Who are these people, are they happy, and is this how they imagined their lives 40 years ago? When I was young I was always curious about my grandmothers as wives. I only knew them as widows, and I wondered what kind of relationships they would have had with their husbands as they aged….is that weird? How would they have been different?
About 2 months ago, I started going to a stitching/knitting group that meets at the library once a week, and I went purely for the purposed of finding surrogate grandparents for my boys…well that and I DO like to cross-stitch and I miss cross-stitching with my mom. There is something comforting about sitting around a big table and listening to stories, sharing stories, and talking. Of course, we are still early in the process (there is no rushing these things), but I have the candidates narrowed down to two. I think it will be another few months, maybe more before we can start the official “hiring” process. There are also some good candidates in the neighborhood.
The problem is that the boys aren’t babies anymore, they don’t have that chubby innocence anymore….. They have definite personality. My paternal grandmother, once told me that the reason she was closer with my cousins is that she got to change their diapers and cuddle them. I think there is absolute truth in that. She got to “care” for them when they were helpless…maybe that is part of bond. I wonder then if it is too late for surrogate grandparents?
Surrogate grandparents for two adorable boys, ages 5 and 7. Need no experience, just genuine affection and care.
We don’t live near my parents or near Chief’s parents and for the last few years I have really felt their absence in the lives of my boys. For the record, my boys LOVE their grandparents, but we don’t get to see them as often as we would if we lived closer. We all miss them.
When I was born both of my grandfathers had already passed away, but I spent time with my Grandmothers, shopping trips on a city bus (that was a first), and sleep-overs, cooking…you know all that normal wonderful Grandma stuff. What I would have done with my grandfathers, took walks, fixed stuff…smoked a pipe? I don’t’ know but that sounds nice…even the pipe part in a weird sentimental kind of way.
If we lived near my parents the boys would get to do that normal wonderful grandma stuff, and with grandpa they would get to take walks, fix-stuff, and nap…you know all the normal grandpa stuff. Sure Chief and I can do all that normal stuff with them, but it is different with a grandparent. They are familiar enough that you are comfortable, but at the same time they are a little mysterious too. Who are these people, are they happy, and is this how they imagined their lives 40 years ago? When I was young I was always curious about my grandmothers as wives. I only knew them as widows, and I wondered what kind of relationships they would have had with their husbands as they aged….is that weird? How would they have been different?
About 2 months ago, I started going to a stitching/knitting group that meets at the library once a week, and I went purely for the purposed of finding surrogate grandparents for my boys…well that and I DO like to cross-stitch and I miss cross-stitching with my mom. There is something comforting about sitting around a big table and listening to stories, sharing stories, and talking. Of course, we are still early in the process (there is no rushing these things), but I have the candidates narrowed down to two. I think it will be another few months, maybe more before we can start the official “hiring” process. There are also some good candidates in the neighborhood.
The problem is that the boys aren’t babies anymore, they don’t have that chubby innocence anymore….. They have definite personality. My paternal grandmother, once told me that the reason she was closer with my cousins is that she got to change their diapers and cuddle them. I think there is absolute truth in that. She got to “care” for them when they were helpless…maybe that is part of bond. I wonder then if it is too late for surrogate grandparents?
10 November 2011
Veterans Day
Tomorrow is Veterans Day, and today at the boy's school they had an assembly to honor the many many parents who are veterans and who are currently serving in the military.
Chief has taken part in this assembly since L was in kindergarten. Any parent who is a veteran or serving in the military is invited to participate and for the men and women that are currently deployed their children represent them when their names are read. I love this program. Since L was in kindergarten I now come to the assembly prepared.....I bring tissues. I didn't have them the first time, but I wasn't the only one who was wiping tears.
As my friend pointed out to me on Facebook any time children sing a song "earnestly" it is bound to make you feel a little weepy. So hearing all the elementary kids singing the military songs affects me even more. One we are a proud Army family and the boys are VERY proud of their father. (We've been singing the Army song for the last two weeks around the house...it gets stuck in my head!)
It also makes me weepy because they are children singing songs that have connected to them so many emotions. They are songs about sacrifices and battles, and one day some of these children will serve their country too. Even though I am an Army wife, the thought of my sons serving is....I can't really put a word on it....half pride and half terror. Is there a word for that?
It warms my heart that the boy's school takes such pride in their military service members. Remember tomorrow is Veterans Day...remember to thank them for their service!
and so it gets stuck in your head too:
Chief has taken part in this assembly since L was in kindergarten. Any parent who is a veteran or serving in the military is invited to participate and for the men and women that are currently deployed their children represent them when their names are read. I love this program. Since L was in kindergarten I now come to the assembly prepared.....I bring tissues. I didn't have them the first time, but I wasn't the only one who was wiping tears.
As my friend pointed out to me on Facebook any time children sing a song "earnestly" it is bound to make you feel a little weepy. So hearing all the elementary kids singing the military songs affects me even more. One we are a proud Army family and the boys are VERY proud of their father. (We've been singing the Army song for the last two weeks around the house...it gets stuck in my head!)
It also makes me weepy because they are children singing songs that have connected to them so many emotions. They are songs about sacrifices and battles, and one day some of these children will serve their country too. Even though I am an Army wife, the thought of my sons serving is....I can't really put a word on it....half pride and half terror. Is there a word for that?
It warms my heart that the boy's school takes such pride in their military service members. Remember tomorrow is Veterans Day...remember to thank them for their service!
and so it gets stuck in your head too:
04 November 2011
Medical Advice
I thought I would share with you the "standard" medical advice I've been given over the years.
Lets start with my mom..... her response was always "just rub it" when I complained of a headache or a sore knee, etc....
My dad's advice was ALWAYS "put some bag-balm on it" for any kind of skin related issues. For those of you unfamiliar with animals that you milk bag balm is basically a Vaseline-like cream for udders. My dad had a tin of it, that I swear he carried around with him in his overalls.
Now, Chief, his advice is "take a knee and drink water."
I think how typical this advise is, based on their relationship to me and their professions. Moms, hug and cuddle and rub your back while you puke. My dad, an outdoor animal kind of guy so of course his advice is farm related. And my husband, soldier. "You're fine....just drink some water and wait a few minutes."
I also think it is pretty practical too....I mean aside from massive head wounds or a sucking chest wound...a combination of the above will at least let you get a hospital....
Lets start with my mom..... her response was always "just rub it" when I complained of a headache or a sore knee, etc....
My dad's advice was ALWAYS "put some bag-balm on it" for any kind of skin related issues. For those of you unfamiliar with animals that you milk bag balm is basically a Vaseline-like cream for udders. My dad had a tin of it, that I swear he carried around with him in his overalls.
Now, Chief, his advice is "take a knee and drink water."
I think how typical this advise is, based on their relationship to me and their professions. Moms, hug and cuddle and rub your back while you puke. My dad, an outdoor animal kind of guy so of course his advice is farm related. And my husband, soldier. "You're fine....just drink some water and wait a few minutes."
I also think it is pretty practical too....I mean aside from massive head wounds or a sucking chest wound...a combination of the above will at least let you get a hospital....
02 November 2011
The Plight?
So one of the classes I am taking for my degree, is about the "plight" of the student athlete...I'm not joking they actually use the word "plight" often in this book.
"ARE YOU KIDDING ME?.....PLIGHT?" was my first reaction. Because, I am not a student athlete and I've never really known anyone who was determined to "go pro." (Except for T-ball moms who were sure that their 5 year old was going to.....) And to be entirely honest, I've never cared much for athletes, well maybe that is not strictly true, but what is true is that I've never cared for the programs and institutions that put them on a pedestal as representing all that's good for student success. Student athletes in high schools are the popular kids, the beautiful kids, the talented kids. Student athletes in college are stars, celebrities, and role models. That social status based on athletic skill alone is not doing anyone any favors...particularly the student athlete......
All the really valuable things you can learn from football, you can also learn from being a member of a choir, a cast, or an academic club, like team work, determination, and dealing with adversity. And conversely all the really damaging things about football, can also happen if you over-invest your time and energy in a choir, a cast, or an academic club. (Well....except for concussions...but then again musical theatre can be pretty dangerous!)
A student athlete is more than just a a football player, or a tennis player....and they need to know "who they are". AND because the odds of "going pro" are so impossibly slim, student athletes (and their parents and coaches) need to be realistic about expectations for the future.
I am learning that student athletes do have a difficult time in college, but not any more difficult than a serious music major, or theatre student. Expectations, time, and relationships are all things that need to be managed, and athletic involvement adds a different layer of complexity the the college experience.
Okay....I think I am done. This class has ruined college football for me.....I don't care the guy's height and weight....I want to know their GPA and their major!
"ARE YOU KIDDING ME?.....PLIGHT?" was my first reaction. Because, I am not a student athlete and I've never really known anyone who was determined to "go pro." (Except for T-ball moms who were sure that their 5 year old was going to.....) And to be entirely honest, I've never cared much for athletes, well maybe that is not strictly true, but what is true is that I've never cared for the programs and institutions that put them on a pedestal as representing all that's good for student success. Student athletes in high schools are the popular kids, the beautiful kids, the talented kids. Student athletes in college are stars, celebrities, and role models. That social status based on athletic skill alone is not doing anyone any favors...particularly the student athlete......
All the really valuable things you can learn from football, you can also learn from being a member of a choir, a cast, or an academic club, like team work, determination, and dealing with adversity. And conversely all the really damaging things about football, can also happen if you over-invest your time and energy in a choir, a cast, or an academic club. (Well....except for concussions...but then again musical theatre can be pretty dangerous!)
A student athlete is more than just a a football player, or a tennis player....and they need to know "who they are". AND because the odds of "going pro" are so impossibly slim, student athletes (and their parents and coaches) need to be realistic about expectations for the future.
I am learning that student athletes do have a difficult time in college, but not any more difficult than a serious music major, or theatre student. Expectations, time, and relationships are all things that need to be managed, and athletic involvement adds a different layer of complexity the the college experience.
Okay....I think I am done. This class has ruined college football for me.....I don't care the guy's height and weight....I want to know their GPA and their major!
01 November 2011
Remember Me?
Wow, it has been a while since I've posted anything here. Life has certainly been busy the last few months, but not out of the ordinary way. The boys are really doing well in school, and so am I actually. Not that grades really matter.....but they do of course. I am managing to get an A in both of my classes.
I haven't written for two reasons:
1. Nothing terribly interesting has happened.
2. I write so much for school, I lack the motivation to spend even more time in front of this dang computer!
However, I am determined to post more frequently even if they are short and meaningless....you know just like I used to!
I haven't written for two reasons:
1. Nothing terribly interesting has happened.
2. I write so much for school, I lack the motivation to spend even more time in front of this dang computer!
However, I am determined to post more frequently even if they are short and meaningless....you know just like I used to!
07 September 2011
First Day
Over the past 5 years, I have thought a lot about what Tuesday would feel like. Tuesday was my baby's first day of kindergarten. I have shed a lot of tears thinking about that day, dreading that day, dreading that feeling of uselessness and loss. Even last week, I was feeling panicked that I'd not done all that I could as a mom to prepare him for school. Sad that I would loose my afternoon companion...what excuse would I have to nap after school started?
Tuesday came. It came with excitement, thrill, and joy. I guess when you worry about something for so long, when it finally gets here it doesn't have so much fear around it? I woke early on Tuesday, too excited to sleep, the boys too were up early for the same reason. I watched them walk into school, hand in hand. H was not scared, he had his brother with him. L was excited to show H "the ropes". It really was a great day. There were no tears that day.
Later that morning, I decided to run some errands. All I had to do was pick up my purse and leave. It was a strange feeling. There were no last minute bathroom runs, no shoes on wrong feet to correct,no goodbyes to say, and no fights to determine who got to open the door. Weird....and kind of exciting.
I still feel a bit helpless and I miss them. But that, as near as I can tell, is part and parcel of being a parent.
Tuesday came. It came with excitement, thrill, and joy. I guess when you worry about something for so long, when it finally gets here it doesn't have so much fear around it? I woke early on Tuesday, too excited to sleep, the boys too were up early for the same reason. I watched them walk into school, hand in hand. H was not scared, he had his brother with him. L was excited to show H "the ropes". It really was a great day. There were no tears that day.
Later that morning, I decided to run some errands. All I had to do was pick up my purse and leave. It was a strange feeling. There were no last minute bathroom runs, no shoes on wrong feet to correct,no goodbyes to say, and no fights to determine who got to open the door. Weird....and kind of exciting.
I still feel a bit helpless and I miss them. But that, as near as I can tell, is part and parcel of being a parent.
02 September 2011
Open House
Okay...enough with the "woe is me" crap.....
Yesterday we went to the boys' open house, and met their teachers.
H is going to have the same kindergarten teacher that L had, hurray! She is amazing. On top of being an incredible teacher and partial to my kids, she is also a cancer survivor. In fact, she was getting regular chemo treatments while she taught L and still taught EVERY DAY. This is a woman who loves those children as her own.
L is so very excited about 2nd grade. For the first time, he has "a desk that is in a row!" He is thrilled, that the room decorations are animals, it "makes the room look like a jungle!" He also had a flip through his social studies book, and realized that "it's not going to be too hard after all."
I don't think they could be any more excited about Tuesday.
Chief came home early yesterday to come along, after he had been making fun of me all morning at work. You know, that I am going to be a weeping puddle on Tuesday, and that I was nervous about the open houses. But guess who had a "funny feeling in his stomach" when we dropped H off for the school tour? Not me........
After meeting the teachers, and seeing how excited the boys are, I am feeling a lot better. ALMOST looking forward to Tuesday, myself. We will see how Chief does.......
Yesterday we went to the boys' open house, and met their teachers.
H is going to have the same kindergarten teacher that L had, hurray! She is amazing. On top of being an incredible teacher and partial to my kids, she is also a cancer survivor. In fact, she was getting regular chemo treatments while she taught L and still taught EVERY DAY. This is a woman who loves those children as her own.
L is so very excited about 2nd grade. For the first time, he has "a desk that is in a row!" He is thrilled, that the room decorations are animals, it "makes the room look like a jungle!" He also had a flip through his social studies book, and realized that "it's not going to be too hard after all."
I don't think they could be any more excited about Tuesday.
Chief came home early yesterday to come along, after he had been making fun of me all morning at work. You know, that I am going to be a weeping puddle on Tuesday, and that I was nervous about the open houses. But guess who had a "funny feeling in his stomach" when we dropped H off for the school tour? Not me........
After meeting the teachers, and seeing how excited the boys are, I am feeling a lot better. ALMOST looking forward to Tuesday, myself. We will see how Chief does.......
31 August 2011
The Good....and Bad...
The past few days have been exciting to be sure. We stocked up on bottled water, canned food. We had candles, flashlights, and a battery-powered radio. But out lights didnt' even flicker. That's good.
We did lose a huge tree limb, early on in the storm, and fearing the rest would come down and damage the house, fence or the neighbors'.... Chief went out in the rain and wind and cut some of the weaker ones down. Sunday morning we had a mess on our hands. The branches were piled on the driveway, we couldn't have gotten out if we wanted to. That's bad.
All day, Chief and I worked in the yard. The boys helped too, stacking wood that we could save for winter. Not once in all the day did a neighbor come over to help or even talk. Not once. We watched them, coming and going all day, driving by slowly, staring at our mess. That was worse.
Finally toward dinner time, a neighbor came over and offered to haul it all away....for a charge of course....
I am disheartened.
We did lose a huge tree limb, early on in the storm, and fearing the rest would come down and damage the house, fence or the neighbors'.... Chief went out in the rain and wind and cut some of the weaker ones down. Sunday morning we had a mess on our hands. The branches were piled on the driveway, we couldn't have gotten out if we wanted to. That's bad.
Finally toward dinner time, a neighbor came over and offered to haul it all away....for a charge of course....
I am disheartened.
26 August 2011
Funny Stories
Remember when you were little, and if you were from a land-locked state, going to a state that was on the ocean like Florida or California sounded so exciting? I used to think that people in Florida were just dying to see Indiana. Turns out....they aren't.
I confess, that I get a kick out of telling people I grew up on a farm in Indiana. I feel like it is my duty. Here in this particular part of Virginia, no one is actually "from" Virginia. I've not met anyone else from Indiana. Occasionally I'll meet someone who used to "live" there, but no one is "from" there. I am "from" Indiana, so it is my duty to share my rural experiences. I get a kick out of telling my farm stories, usually centered on "loose" (interpret that however you like) animals, waking up early, and chores. Some of my favorite farm stories are: "Milking goats: warm hands, fun to tease the barn cats.", "Careful where you walk." , "MOM! The cows are out!!!!", and "Just put bag-balm on it."
However, my boys favorite stories are the ones about Silly Uncle J. Like the story called "Why you shouldn't let your friend teach you karate." , "What you should and should not do, if a moth gets in your ear." , "How not to dry a pizza-cutter" or "How to break your own collar bone while playing football.....alone." Then their personal favorite and mine, "Why you shouldn't ride on top of the van, while your sister drives." These aren't necessarily "farm" stories and come to think of it, none of them have anything to do with manure.....except maybe the last one.....
I confess, that I get a kick out of telling people I grew up on a farm in Indiana. I feel like it is my duty. Here in this particular part of Virginia, no one is actually "from" Virginia. I've not met anyone else from Indiana. Occasionally I'll meet someone who used to "live" there, but no one is "from" there. I am "from" Indiana, so it is my duty to share my rural experiences. I get a kick out of telling my farm stories, usually centered on "loose" (interpret that however you like) animals, waking up early, and chores. Some of my favorite farm stories are: "Milking goats: warm hands, fun to tease the barn cats.", "Careful where you walk." , "MOM! The cows are out!!!!", and "Just put bag-balm on it."
However, my boys favorite stories are the ones about Silly Uncle J. Like the story called "Why you shouldn't let your friend teach you karate." , "What you should and should not do, if a moth gets in your ear." , "How not to dry a pizza-cutter" or "How to break your own collar bone while playing football.....alone." Then their personal favorite and mine, "Why you shouldn't ride on top of the van, while your sister drives." These aren't necessarily "farm" stories and come to think of it, none of them have anything to do with manure.....except maybe the last one.....
25 August 2011
Maze
Okay....back to Luray. After we explored the cave, we went to the Garden Maze. Like a corn maze but made of really tall hedges:
We split up. Chief with H, and L and me. It was my suggestion to split up, and my suggestion that we see who gets done first...but it was L's suggestion to run. And run we did. In the maze you had to find 4 stations, and stamp your card with a word. These 4 words then were the theme of the maze. We did finish first, well ahead of Chief and H, but we were sweaty and exhausted. L led the way, for the most part. Tricky because his center of gravity is much lower ,so he took the turns much faster. I was afraid we would get separated if I didn't stay right on his heels. Fortunately I didn't damage any hedges by falling over.
After Chief and H made it out, we enjoyed a nice ice cream together. The maze was easily the best part of the day....even if L and I had to pretend that "it wasn't really a race....."
24 August 2011
I feel the earth move under my feet.....
In case you haven't heard? That's unlikely unless you live in the west and don't own a TV. We had an earthquake yesterday. 5.9 baby! We live just 56 miles from the epicenter (yes I looked it up on the GPS).
All joking aside, perhaps one of the most frightening things I've been through. I have felt earthquakes before, small ones of course. Nothing like this. There was no doubt in my mind it was an earthquake. Then I thought, "maybe I am crazy?" but sure enough everyone in the eastern United States felt it.
I won't regale you with the whole story, of being on the phone with my mom, then yelling for my kids....oh wait...sorry. After about a dozen phone calls from friends, neighbors, my mother-in-law, Chief, and a return call to my mom....we are back to our afternoon activities....that don't include huddling in a doorway.
Anyway, we are fine. No damage.
All joking aside, perhaps one of the most frightening things I've been through. I have felt earthquakes before, small ones of course. Nothing like this. There was no doubt in my mind it was an earthquake. Then I thought, "maybe I am crazy?" but sure enough everyone in the eastern United States felt it.
I won't regale you with the whole story, of being on the phone with my mom, then yelling for my kids....oh wait...sorry. After about a dozen phone calls from friends, neighbors, my mother-in-law, Chief, and a return call to my mom....we are back to our afternoon activities....that don't include huddling in a doorway.
Anyway, we are fine. No damage.
23 August 2011
Caves
Last week, we took the boys to some nearby caves, here in Virginia. A bit of a drive, so we didn't tell them where we were going, instead we said "we are going to see a guy about a thing". This worked for a while until L asked "what thing?" Chief replied "oh....a house thing." Then I realize that it may not remain a secret for very long, because L can read, and we were often passing advertisements for the caves. Meanwhile H is complaining about going to see the "guy" and asks if when we get there if he can stay in the car. Trying not to laugh I said "sure, once we get there if you decide you want to stay in the car I will stay with you." Finally we arrive at the caves and they were thrilled. L had no idea, he had seen the signs but figured the "guy" lived near the caves, but H, of course, said he knew all along and that he had tricked us by pretending he didn't want to go. HA!
The Luray caverns were discovered in 1878, by a group of men curious of the cool air issuing from a small hole in the ground, in the middle of August. The largest series of caverns in the east, the immense number of stalactites and stalagmites still empress cave experts today. The guide had a clever way to tell the difference between stalactites and stalagmites. Stalactites hold "tight" to the ceiling, and stalagmites "might" reach there one day. This is not the way I tell the difference, but I won't insult you with my junior-high humor.
We had a great time, it was nice to escape the VA heat if only for an hour.
Here is a vidoe I found of the organ being played. Rubber tiped mallets gently tap the stalactites to make this music:
The Luray caverns were discovered in 1878, by a group of men curious of the cool air issuing from a small hole in the ground, in the middle of August. The largest series of caverns in the east, the immense number of stalactites and stalagmites still empress cave experts today. The guide had a clever way to tell the difference between stalactites and stalagmites. Stalactites hold "tight" to the ceiling, and stalagmites "might" reach there one day. This is not the way I tell the difference, but I won't insult you with my junior-high humor.
We had a great time, it was nice to escape the VA heat if only for an hour.
 |
| This formation is 120 feet around. |
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| The largest body of water in the cave. The water is only a foot deep but is so still that it reflects perfectly the ceiling above. |
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| This the largest musical instrument in the world, covering 3 acres. |
22 August 2011
School!
Well, if I wasn't feeling nauseous already about starting my master's degree.... I am now:
I just read the syllabus' for my classes that start today. Oh. Dear. Lord. (and I mean that most sincerely as a prayer.)
I now have the most serious of doubts that I can actually do this. I have 8 modules to complete in each class. Each module is pages and pages of what to read and where to find it, plus a paper, a quiz and a message board response. Oh and I have to have access to an college or universities academic advising practices....um......
Most of my classmates (ack! I have classmates again....I wonder if they'll think I am a nerd?) are currently working in an institution of higher learning in an advising capacity. And I would hardly call teaching the art of shoelace tying "higher learning"......so I am in a bit of a loss here. Thank goodness for FB, I still have some connections.....
Also, why is it that three lettered acronyms are so scary: WMD, IED, RPG....... APA?
I'd be lying if I didn't say, "I want to quit." I do, but I won't. Who am I to be afraid of a little (or a lot) of hard work....I have kids. What I need is a mantra....I have one on the treadmill, but it's just a string of cuss words usually. Any suggestions for a mantra to keep me from running away from school?
I just read the syllabus' for my classes that start today. Oh. Dear. Lord. (and I mean that most sincerely as a prayer.)
I now have the most serious of doubts that I can actually do this. I have 8 modules to complete in each class. Each module is pages and pages of what to read and where to find it, plus a paper, a quiz and a message board response. Oh and I have to have access to an college or universities academic advising practices....um......
Most of my classmates (ack! I have classmates again....I wonder if they'll think I am a nerd?) are currently working in an institution of higher learning in an advising capacity. And I would hardly call teaching the art of shoelace tying "higher learning"......so I am in a bit of a loss here. Thank goodness for FB, I still have some connections.....
Also, why is it that three lettered acronyms are so scary: WMD, IED, RPG....... APA?
I'd be lying if I didn't say, "I want to quit." I do, but I won't. Who am I to be afraid of a little (or a lot) of hard work....I have kids. What I need is a mantra....I have one on the treadmill, but it's just a string of cuss words usually. Any suggestions for a mantra to keep me from running away from school?
18 August 2011
Slacker Mom
While waiting for an oil change, with kids in tow, I read a recent Time Magazine article about the division of "unpaid" work (house work and childcare) between men and women/mothers and fathers. If you are interested it was in the August 8 edition, title story: Chore Wars
This article confirmed what I've been suspecting for years: I am the slacker.
The gist of the article was this: working men and women, more or less work the same. (of course, I was settling arguments over waiting-room toys, so my comprehension may be lacking) On average men work more slightly more "paid" time and women work slightly more "unpaid" time. Basically men are more involved in family life then ever before, and more "moms" are working. So the division of work, combining it all, is even. The article goes on to say that the only clear "winners" are stay-at-home moms. Stay-at-homes work less now than they did in 1965, because socially, men are expected to be more involved at home....bonus!
Stay-at-home moms have more "leisure" time, but did admit that an hour of reading by yourself, is different than an hour of reading while you are breaking up fights or finding missing Lego's every 15 minutes. Also going out to lunch with your kids and your friends kids, is not the same as going out to lunch with just your friends. The article also suggested that keeping the kids/family on schedule and planning meals, knowing the location of ingredients in the refrigerator adds a level of stress, that cleaning a toilet doesn't add. And I would also like to add, that the first hour of childcare is much easier than the 12th. Does that make sense?
Chief works a lot. He leaves at what we call "oh-dark-thirty" and isn't home till the boys' bedtime most days. On the weekends, he does odd-jobs around the house, spends time with the boys, and often takes a well-deserved nap.
I think he most-certainly works more than I do.....even without the vacuuming. But he also didn't spend the last 20 minutes cleaning play-doh out from under fingernails.....or explaining a "light-year".
This article confirmed what I've been suspecting for years: I am the slacker.
The gist of the article was this: working men and women, more or less work the same. (of course, I was settling arguments over waiting-room toys, so my comprehension may be lacking) On average men work more slightly more "paid" time and women work slightly more "unpaid" time. Basically men are more involved in family life then ever before, and more "moms" are working. So the division of work, combining it all, is even. The article goes on to say that the only clear "winners" are stay-at-home moms. Stay-at-homes work less now than they did in 1965, because socially, men are expected to be more involved at home....bonus!
Stay-at-home moms have more "leisure" time, but did admit that an hour of reading by yourself, is different than an hour of reading while you are breaking up fights or finding missing Lego's every 15 minutes. Also going out to lunch with your kids and your friends kids, is not the same as going out to lunch with just your friends. The article also suggested that keeping the kids/family on schedule and planning meals, knowing the location of ingredients in the refrigerator adds a level of stress, that cleaning a toilet doesn't add. And I would also like to add, that the first hour of childcare is much easier than the 12th. Does that make sense?
Chief works a lot. He leaves at what we call "oh-dark-thirty" and isn't home till the boys' bedtime most days. On the weekends, he does odd-jobs around the house, spends time with the boys, and often takes a well-deserved nap.
I think he most-certainly works more than I do.....even without the vacuuming. But he also didn't spend the last 20 minutes cleaning play-doh out from under fingernails.....or explaining a "light-year".
17 August 2011
Our Summer Continues
For all of my Indiana family and friends, school has started already. FB is full of back-to-school pictures and frowney emoticons about kids going off to kindergarten.
School doesn't start for us until after Labor Day. I've heard it referred to as the Kings Dominion Law (Kings Dominion is an amusement park)....because the park would lose it's school-age employees and Labor Day weekend is a money maker. Whatever it is...I like it. Sure it means that the kids go to the middle of June. But the heat of mid-June has nothing on the heat of August....I'd rather be a the pool (kind of).
This year is a little more complicated. My graduate classes start next week, a full two weeks before elementary school. That will be interesting. I want to enjoy my classes, but I'm more interested in continuing this fabulous summer with my boys. We are planning a trip to some nearby caves, trips to the pool, and hikes.....We are trying to squeeze even more fun into the summer for the boys and, in a way, delaying the inevitable because my H will go off to kindergarten this year too:
How did these last 5 years go so fast? He's my baby, my BABY! Okay.....I'll save it for the September 6th.
School doesn't start for us until after Labor Day. I've heard it referred to as the Kings Dominion Law (Kings Dominion is an amusement park)....because the park would lose it's school-age employees and Labor Day weekend is a money maker. Whatever it is...I like it. Sure it means that the kids go to the middle of June. But the heat of mid-June has nothing on the heat of August....I'd rather be a the pool (kind of).
This year is a little more complicated. My graduate classes start next week, a full two weeks before elementary school. That will be interesting. I want to enjoy my classes, but I'm more interested in continuing this fabulous summer with my boys. We are planning a trip to some nearby caves, trips to the pool, and hikes.....We are trying to squeeze even more fun into the summer for the boys and, in a way, delaying the inevitable because my H will go off to kindergarten this year too:
16 August 2011
Pictures
I love old-timey pictures. They leave so much to the imagination. These are pictures of my paternal great-grandparents:
I particularly like the top photograph, look at her hand. It looks like she is "worrying" her thumb nail. This is something I do often, when nervous or anxious. This pictures don't say much about a life, do they? I'm not even certain I see any family resemblances....
These are my paternal grandparents (the children of the couples above):
Here of course I see family resemblances....I was fortunate to have known my grandmother. She even lived with us for a while. She passed away the summer before Chief and I married. I never met my grandfather.
These are my maternal grandparents:
Like my other grandfather, he too passed away before I was born. I was again fortunate to have known my grandmother. She passed away when I was in high school. Here too I see many family resemblances. This is where I got my nose after all!
Finally here are my parents ( I wouldn't qualify this as an old-timey photo, though)
Aren't they a good-looking pair? When L first saw this picture he was confused because he thought it was a picture of Uncle J.....
I love wedding pictures in particular, because there is so much that happens in a life AFTER that moment. Are they doing now, what they thought they would be doing? Or do they think "how did I get here?"
Finally, for your viewing pleasure, a picture from my wedding day. I should have known what was in store for me from this "joke" picture. And I wonder why they find bathroom jokes so funny?
I particularly like the top photograph, look at her hand. It looks like she is "worrying" her thumb nail. This is something I do often, when nervous or anxious. This pictures don't say much about a life, do they? I'm not even certain I see any family resemblances....
These are my paternal grandparents (the children of the couples above):
These are my maternal grandparents:
Finally here are my parents ( I wouldn't qualify this as an old-timey photo, though)
I love wedding pictures in particular, because there is so much that happens in a life AFTER that moment. Are they doing now, what they thought they would be doing? Or do they think "how did I get here?"
Finally, for your viewing pleasure, a picture from my wedding day. I should have known what was in store for me from this "joke" picture. And I wonder why they find bathroom jokes so funny?
15 August 2011
Motherhood
I know for a fact, I didn't fall off the turnip truck yesterday...
But, sometimes I feel like I must have.
For instance, I have a whole host of FB friends (all of whom I actually know) who LOVE EVERYTHING about motherhood. Really?! It must be some kind of mistake, right? They are not talking about the same kind of motherhood I am, right? RIGHT?
It seems as though there is a new attitude among new moms: NEVER ADMIT IT'S HARD
These are the same moms who chastise others for complaining. Which is why I get so many dirty looks when I joke about running away or selling my children to gypsies.
Motherhood is hard from the get go. For some lucky ones, it takes over our bodies and make us sick. For others, it feels like a betrayal (why won't my body do what it's supposed to?) Then later you have this tiny screaming thing, that doesn't speak, projects fluids from every orifice, and like noisy neighbors doesn't understand that people like to sleep at night. On top of all that, you can't reason with it, bribe it, or ignore it.
Fortunately the only time I am up in the wee hours of the morning are by choice, these days. But believe me, I still have those moments of I can't do this, it's too hard.
I written before about my experience My Post-Partum experience. I worry that these mom's are doing a disservice to themselves and to other new moms. It's okay to talk about how hard it is. Because I know these LOVE EVERYTHING moms are struggling too. Why do some women feel the need to be and do everything perfectly?
Motherhood is hard. Period. Anyone who says otherwise is selling you something. Is it that these moms think they should feel that everything is perfect and exactly as they expected? Or is it that these moms are really struggling and don't know that it's okay?
You can't prepare anyone for motherhood, not really. All you can do is listen and have compassion. Talk to new moms, tell them it's okay. It's okay to feel like you made a mistake, it's okay to wonder if you'll ever feel like yourself again. Encourage new moms to talk to their spouse or significant other, to talk to their doctor, their mother, their pastor, and other new moms. Remind them they are not alone. Remind them there is a difference between loving your child and loving your new responsibilities.
because no one likes being pooped on at 3 a.m....I don't care who you are.....
But, sometimes I feel like I must have.
For instance, I have a whole host of FB friends (all of whom I actually know) who LOVE EVERYTHING about motherhood. Really?! It must be some kind of mistake, right? They are not talking about the same kind of motherhood I am, right? RIGHT?
It seems as though there is a new attitude among new moms: NEVER ADMIT IT'S HARD
These are the same moms who chastise others for complaining. Which is why I get so many dirty looks when I joke about running away or selling my children to gypsies.
Motherhood is hard from the get go. For some lucky ones, it takes over our bodies and make us sick. For others, it feels like a betrayal (why won't my body do what it's supposed to?) Then later you have this tiny screaming thing, that doesn't speak, projects fluids from every orifice, and like noisy neighbors doesn't understand that people like to sleep at night. On top of all that, you can't reason with it, bribe it, or ignore it.
Fortunately the only time I am up in the wee hours of the morning are by choice, these days. But believe me, I still have those moments of I can't do this, it's too hard.
I written before about my experience My Post-Partum experience. I worry that these mom's are doing a disservice to themselves and to other new moms. It's okay to talk about how hard it is. Because I know these LOVE EVERYTHING moms are struggling too. Why do some women feel the need to be and do everything perfectly?
Motherhood is hard. Period. Anyone who says otherwise is selling you something. Is it that these moms think they should feel that everything is perfect and exactly as they expected? Or is it that these moms are really struggling and don't know that it's okay?
You can't prepare anyone for motherhood, not really. All you can do is listen and have compassion. Talk to new moms, tell them it's okay. It's okay to feel like you made a mistake, it's okay to wonder if you'll ever feel like yourself again. Encourage new moms to talk to their spouse or significant other, to talk to their doctor, their mother, their pastor, and other new moms. Remind them they are not alone. Remind them there is a difference between loving your child and loving your new responsibilities.
because no one likes being pooped on at 3 a.m....I don't care who you are.....
11 August 2011
HOA Woes
We live in a neighborhood with an HOA (Home Owners Association), and in an effort to get to know people in my neighborhood, I go to the meetings. I have even volunteered to be on a committee to plan our 1st Annual Neighborhood party.
The biggest problem, is that despite our neighborhood having 290 homes, only about 7 people regularly show up, and in that 7 there are two couples. So we have about 4 homes represented. 4....that 's it.
Recently, a resident started an online petition for a "traffic study" to determine if we could do something about people speeding and ignoring traffic signs. I signed the petition immediately because those are my chief complaints about this neighborhood. It's why I drive my boys to school, walking them to the bus stop (at the end of the block) is dangerous. Anyway this petition started a fire-storm on the FB page for our neighborhood.
Everyone agrees that it IS a problem. But instead of signing the petition, they complain about the neighborhood, the HOA, about the lack of involvement, speed bumps. I should note...that having been a regular at the meetings for more than a year, I 've not seen one of the complainers at a meeting. Also I did not know there was a difference between speed bumps and speed humps (sometimes called speed tables)....I am now informed. I am now leaning toward the speed table (I can't use the word "hump"....it just seems wrong) rather than the speed bump. Then today the swearing started..... All of this for a petition? Really?! Good grief people. Grow up, be responsible for your own neighborhood....Haven't they heard "It takes a village?"
For many years my husband has been dreaming of, and imagining a place away from all stupid people...he calls it Chiefland.....It is a lovely place that requires you to pass an exam, driving test, and a series of intense interviews to be admitted. It would also be the compound in the event of a zombie apocalypse.....
Sometimes despite my desire for community and "a village", I am sorely temped by the utopian idea of Chiefland....I hope he lets me in!
The biggest problem, is that despite our neighborhood having 290 homes, only about 7 people regularly show up, and in that 7 there are two couples. So we have about 4 homes represented. 4....that 's it.
Recently, a resident started an online petition for a "traffic study" to determine if we could do something about people speeding and ignoring traffic signs. I signed the petition immediately because those are my chief complaints about this neighborhood. It's why I drive my boys to school, walking them to the bus stop (at the end of the block) is dangerous. Anyway this petition started a fire-storm on the FB page for our neighborhood.
Everyone agrees that it IS a problem. But instead of signing the petition, they complain about the neighborhood, the HOA, about the lack of involvement, speed bumps. I should note...that having been a regular at the meetings for more than a year, I 've not seen one of the complainers at a meeting. Also I did not know there was a difference between speed bumps and speed humps (sometimes called speed tables)....I am now informed. I am now leaning toward the speed table (I can't use the word "hump"....it just seems wrong) rather than the speed bump. Then today the swearing started..... All of this for a petition? Really?! Good grief people. Grow up, be responsible for your own neighborhood....Haven't they heard "It takes a village?"
For many years my husband has been dreaming of, and imagining a place away from all stupid people...he calls it Chiefland.....It is a lovely place that requires you to pass an exam, driving test, and a series of intense interviews to be admitted. It would also be the compound in the event of a zombie apocalypse.....
Sometimes despite my desire for community and "a village", I am sorely temped by the utopian idea of Chiefland....I hope he lets me in!
09 August 2011
Family Traits
There are some family traits that are easy to see. Take my parents and my siblings:
We all have dark hair.
We each have one of two noses. I have the "witch" nose, although some would say it was "Roman" insert "yeah...rome'n all over your face" some of us have the "other" nose. Both are pretty unmistakable.
Then there are family traits that you can't see:
Sarcasm. One of my nieces likens it to a language that her dad and aunts and uncles speak fluently. Guilty. I've also heard it described as the lowest form of humor. I don't know about that (of course I would say that), I think we primarily use it to tease each other. Teasing, whether you like it or not, is a part of life and sometimes hits rather close to the truth. Fortunately because we are often the butt of our siblings' sarcasm comes the ability to "take" the teasing (some of us better than others....you know who you are!) I tease people I care about. That may sound backwards, but I assure you it is the truth. I've learned, however, that sarcasm is not for the general public. Something that I probably should have learned sooner than I did.
Competitiveness. My brother-in-law, we'll call him Crazy-T, once suggested that we are a competitive family. But not in the traditional way, we don't compete over money or houses, jobs or even our parents attention. He said we compete to be the funniest. Since Crazy-T said that, I've observed at family get-togethers that he is absolutely right. Most of my memorable family moments have more than one of us doubled over in laughter or gasping for breath, begging that they "stop the story...I have...to...breath" Personally I can't think of a downside to this trait......
Another trait that my siblings and I share is respect for our parents, for the life they gave us on that small Indiana farm. I am thankful now for the pre-dawn goat milking, and the heat-of-the-sun rock picking. You would be hard-pressed to find better work-ethics than those of my 5 siblings. Were my parents perfect? No, of course not. Do we each have some hang-ups from our youth....naturally, everyone does.
You see, it's not just biology that makes a family. It's love, and all the unseen family traits that we pass down to our children...the good and the not-so-good.
We all have dark hair.
We each have one of two noses. I have the "witch" nose, although some would say it was "Roman" insert "yeah...rome'n all over your face" some of us have the "other" nose. Both are pretty unmistakable.
Then there are family traits that you can't see:
Sarcasm. One of my nieces likens it to a language that her dad and aunts and uncles speak fluently. Guilty. I've also heard it described as the lowest form of humor. I don't know about that (of course I would say that), I think we primarily use it to tease each other. Teasing, whether you like it or not, is a part of life and sometimes hits rather close to the truth. Fortunately because we are often the butt of our siblings' sarcasm comes the ability to "take" the teasing (some of us better than others....you know who you are!) I tease people I care about. That may sound backwards, but I assure you it is the truth. I've learned, however, that sarcasm is not for the general public. Something that I probably should have learned sooner than I did.
Competitiveness. My brother-in-law, we'll call him Crazy-T, once suggested that we are a competitive family. But not in the traditional way, we don't compete over money or houses, jobs or even our parents attention. He said we compete to be the funniest. Since Crazy-T said that, I've observed at family get-togethers that he is absolutely right. Most of my memorable family moments have more than one of us doubled over in laughter or gasping for breath, begging that they "stop the story...I have...to...breath" Personally I can't think of a downside to this trait......
Another trait that my siblings and I share is respect for our parents, for the life they gave us on that small Indiana farm. I am thankful now for the pre-dawn goat milking, and the heat-of-the-sun rock picking. You would be hard-pressed to find better work-ethics than those of my 5 siblings. Were my parents perfect? No, of course not. Do we each have some hang-ups from our youth....naturally, everyone does.
You see, it's not just biology that makes a family. It's love, and all the unseen family traits that we pass down to our children...the good and the not-so-good.
08 August 2011
Have some extra time?
I am kind of obsessed with names.
I could spend hours on this site:
http://www.babynamewizard.com/
This is where I learned that there was a number of men in the early part of the last century who were named "Mary". Seriously.....
It was used much like my grandmother's, whose first name was also Mary but never went by it out of respect. I wonder if I am being disrespectful? Ponders using middle name instead...... I don't think I could be an Elizabeth, Liz, Beth, etc.....
I could spend hours on this site:
http://www.babynamewizard.com/
This is where I learned that there was a number of men in the early part of the last century who were named "Mary". Seriously.....
It was used much like my grandmother's, whose first name was also Mary but never went by it out of respect. I wonder if I am being disrespectful? Ponders using middle name instead...... I don't think I could be an Elizabeth, Liz, Beth, etc.....
04 August 2011
Breaking News
This is serious...I crafted today. I am so far out of my comfort zone, I'm not even sure that "crafted" is what I am supposed to say.
When Chief was deployed we kept a clock in the kitchen set to his local time. We called it "Daddy Time" the boys asked me 10 times a day (at least) "what time is it where daddy is?" It was a a way to keep us thinking about daddy (like we needed any help!), a way to be connected to him, and also a teaching tool. That's how L learned to read the time...
We decided to always keep that clock set to whatever time it is where he is. "Daddy Time" has been the same as ours for several months now! But more trips will come, and more time zones...so I expect the clock will get a lot of use.
I wanted to designate the clock in some way, so I made a plaque-like thing.
A very crafty friend of mine had talked about this project. But being too lazy to actually go and look at the instructions again, I just did what I remembered. This was quick and easy, and most importantly...not messy.
I can't wait to get this hung above the clock.
When Chief was deployed we kept a clock in the kitchen set to his local time. We called it "Daddy Time" the boys asked me 10 times a day (at least) "what time is it where daddy is?" It was a a way to keep us thinking about daddy (like we needed any help!), a way to be connected to him, and also a teaching tool. That's how L learned to read the time...
We decided to always keep that clock set to whatever time it is where he is. "Daddy Time" has been the same as ours for several months now! But more trips will come, and more time zones...so I expect the clock will get a lot of use.
I wanted to designate the clock in some way, so I made a plaque-like thing.
I can't wait to get this hung above the clock.
03 August 2011
Social butterflies, we are not.
Chief and I don’t argue, well not of the yelling and slamming doors variety. Truthfully we don’t argue often but when we do it is more of the get silent and pout for a day then decide to actually tell each other why we are upset. And usually by then much of the passion behind the argument is dissipated. Pretty effective, if you ask me.
We had one such argument yesterday (which had actually started Monday night). We were talking about the National Night Out event happening in our neighborhood. He didn’t want to go, but he actually said something like “I wouldn’t be caught dead there”. This upset me, because I wanted to go. I thought it would be a good first step in finding a community.
Anyway, I could tell he was grumpy. So I stayed silent and responded “I’m fine” when he asked me what was wrong. All men know that this is crazy woman-talk for “I’m not fine and you should know why…read my mind, idiot!” Oh? You didn’t know that we add the word "idiot" to our thoughts? We do.
Finally last evening we apologized; I for speaking in crazy woman-talk and he for being grumpy. As it turns out, he had a pretty good reason for not wanted to go to the event. He is always meeting new people, and forming relationships in his job. This is, in a way, part of his job. It makes getting things done smoother and easier. So sometimes the last thing he want to do is come home and meet more new people. I get that.
I don’t meet new people often. Not for lack of trying though, see I take after my dad to a degree. My dad will talk to anyone and everyone. Language barriers don’t bother him. Once when visiting us in Germany, he walked over to some laborers who were working on post and though he doesn’t speak German and they spoke little English he stayed there for over an hour “talking” with them. They even gave him a metric measuring stick. My siblings and I have a lot of these stories. Anyway, I am that annoying person who tries to strike up conversations everywhere. However, as I don’t get out much….you get the idea.
But because my husband is a great guy, we did go to the event last night. And as it turns out, he did socialize, and it didn’t kill him.
We had one such argument yesterday (which had actually started Monday night). We were talking about the National Night Out event happening in our neighborhood. He didn’t want to go, but he actually said something like “I wouldn’t be caught dead there”. This upset me, because I wanted to go. I thought it would be a good first step in finding a community.
Anyway, I could tell he was grumpy. So I stayed silent and responded “I’m fine” when he asked me what was wrong. All men know that this is crazy woman-talk for “I’m not fine and you should know why…read my mind, idiot!” Oh? You didn’t know that we add the word "idiot" to our thoughts? We do.
Finally last evening we apologized; I for speaking in crazy woman-talk and he for being grumpy. As it turns out, he had a pretty good reason for not wanted to go to the event. He is always meeting new people, and forming relationships in his job. This is, in a way, part of his job. It makes getting things done smoother and easier. So sometimes the last thing he want to do is come home and meet more new people. I get that.
I don’t meet new people often. Not for lack of trying though, see I take after my dad to a degree. My dad will talk to anyone and everyone. Language barriers don’t bother him. Once when visiting us in Germany, he walked over to some laborers who were working on post and though he doesn’t speak German and they spoke little English he stayed there for over an hour “talking” with them. They even gave him a metric measuring stick. My siblings and I have a lot of these stories. Anyway, I am that annoying person who tries to strike up conversations everywhere. However, as I don’t get out much….you get the idea.
But because my husband is a great guy, we did go to the event last night. And as it turns out, he did socialize, and it didn’t kill him.
02 August 2011
Sunday With Mr. Darcy
Sunday afternoon, I asked my husband what his plans were for the day. He had none, and asked me what I wanted to do. So I told him:
I would like to spend the day cross-stitching and watching Jane Austen movies. It was a joke (kind of) and I thought for sure he would roll his eyes or say something about needing a good nap anyway.
His answer: OKAY
So for the next 8 hours that is what I did. It was a great day. I am sure it was a once in a lifetime occurrence.....
This is my favorite part:
I also watched:
and if I'd had time I would have watched:
I would like to spend the day cross-stitching and watching Jane Austen movies. It was a joke (kind of) and I thought for sure he would roll his eyes or say something about needing a good nap anyway.
His answer: OKAY
So for the next 8 hours that is what I did. It was a great day. I am sure it was a once in a lifetime occurrence.....
This is my favorite part:
I also watched:
and if I'd had time I would have watched:
01 August 2011
FB Friend Rant!
I have a few FB friends that I would like to "unfriend", but won't for some reason or another...doesn't everyone?
Like the person that just posts a string of songs everyday. I think there should be a one-a-day limit.
Or the person with the "cause", who posts the same kind of articles 8 times a day. These, incidentally, make checking FB on my phone really annoying..... I'm glad you have a cause...but start a fan page or something!
Or the quiz taker and game player....that starts a new game or quiz slightly faster than I can block them from my news feed.....
Or the "Pat me me on the back for acting like a grown-up" friend. I know you have one of these. He/She wants everyone to know how they didn't hit someone (even though they wanted to) or didn't say something nasty (even though they wanted to) and how difficult it was for them. I never comment, but sometimes I am tempted to write something snarky like "congratulations! you're getting the hang of this adult thing!"
Or the "Why does everything go wrong for me?" friend. Who only posts negative things so their friends will stay stuff like, " you are a beautiful person, don't forget that.", "he sucks" or "I'm here if you need to talk...." Listen, it is okay to feel sorry for yourself and to need kind words...twice a year. If you are really that down on yourself, FB is probably the worst alternative to a therapist.
And my least favorite type of FB friend is the "Look how cool I am when I'm drunk" friend. Drinking to excess is stupid at any age, and doing it anytime after your 30's birthday is stupid and pathetic. I know this because you posted the pictures on FB! Really? Grow up.....watch Jeopardy like the rest of us!
Do you have types that you'd like to unfriend? Like the stay-at-home mom who only posts funny (usually to her alone) stuff that her kids do? Hey....wait a second........
Like the person that just posts a string of songs everyday. I think there should be a one-a-day limit.
Or the person with the "cause", who posts the same kind of articles 8 times a day. These, incidentally, make checking FB on my phone really annoying..... I'm glad you have a cause...but start a fan page or something!
Or the quiz taker and game player....that starts a new game or quiz slightly faster than I can block them from my news feed.....
Or the "Pat me me on the back for acting like a grown-up" friend. I know you have one of these. He/She wants everyone to know how they didn't hit someone (even though they wanted to) or didn't say something nasty (even though they wanted to) and how difficult it was for them. I never comment, but sometimes I am tempted to write something snarky like "congratulations! you're getting the hang of this adult thing!"
Or the "Why does everything go wrong for me?" friend. Who only posts negative things so their friends will stay stuff like, " you are a beautiful person, don't forget that.", "he sucks" or "I'm here if you need to talk...." Listen, it is okay to feel sorry for yourself and to need kind words...twice a year. If you are really that down on yourself, FB is probably the worst alternative to a therapist.
And my least favorite type of FB friend is the "Look how cool I am when I'm drunk" friend. Drinking to excess is stupid at any age, and doing it anytime after your 30's birthday is stupid and pathetic. I know this because you posted the pictures on FB! Really? Grow up.....watch Jeopardy like the rest of us!
Do you have types that you'd like to unfriend? Like the stay-at-home mom who only posts funny (usually to her alone) stuff that her kids do? Hey....wait a second........
29 July 2011
Cross-Stitching
So as not to offend any chimp lovers or cross-stitchers, with the statement I made yesterday. I thought I might post a few pictures of some of the work that I've done:
When I first started cross-stitching I was 26ish and a new mother. I made a pillow for L, with his initials. This is, of course, only part of the pillow. He still keeps it in his bed every night, which account for some of the discoloration and missing whiskers:
Then I started my first BIG project. With complicated charts and hard to manage floss:
Here is a close-up of the same piece:
When H was born, I felt that I had to go back to a Beatrix Potter image for his pillow:
In what would turn into a 3-year project, because of international moves and life, I completed my most complicated project to date. This even has beading....
I may have overstated the simplicity of cross-stitching...
When I first started cross-stitching I was 26ish and a new mother. I made a pillow for L, with his initials. This is, of course, only part of the pillow. He still keeps it in his bed every night, which account for some of the discoloration and missing whiskers:
I was still on a little bit of a Beatrix Potter kick when I made this pillow as well:
Then I started my first BIG project. With complicated charts and hard to manage floss:
When H was born, I felt that I had to go back to a Beatrix Potter image for his pillow:
In what would turn into a 3-year project, because of international moves and life, I completed my most complicated project to date. This even has beading....
Many of my projects since then, I've given away as gifts. This is the latest piece that I've kept:
I may have overstated the simplicity of cross-stitching...
28 July 2011
Granola
I secretly wish I were a Granola Mom.
You know the kind…she grows and mills her own wheat to make her own bread. She can make an entire 5 course meal just from beans. She owns a loom. Her kids will try any kind of food. She is a great mother, who doesn’t mind messes.
Sadly, I am not this mom. I don’t have a creative bone in my body. I say this a lot and usually I hear one of two responses:
“You dance!” I USED to dance…and it was choreographed. I didn’t make it up.
“You cross-stitch!” Really people? A chimp could cross-stitch; the only skill it takes is patience.
I don’t want to imply that I doubt myself as an individual or as a mother…I don’t…usually. Rather I see the traits of a Granola Mom desirable to me. I wish I had the knack for whipping up delicious healthy meals with an odd collection of leftovers. I wish that I knew how to create something beautiful and useful from random scraps of paper or fabric.
Mostly, I wish I had a greater tolerance for messes. Usually I like this about myself, everything has a place and everything in its place, but sometimes it’s disruptive. There are nights when I can’t sleep because I know there is a mess waiting for me in the morning. My husband’s “little piles” of pocket contents….make me crazy. Dumped toy boxes and unmade beds actually make me feel stressed. Permanent stains….I don’t even want to think about it.
So I need a book, or something, to guide me into being a Granola Mom. One that lays out simple steps and changes you can make. A book that includes a map and instructions to my local farmer’s market would be ideal….one that has a 10-Step Rehabilitation program for Neat-Nicks.
You know the kind…she grows and mills her own wheat to make her own bread. She can make an entire 5 course meal just from beans. She owns a loom. Her kids will try any kind of food. She is a great mother, who doesn’t mind messes.
Sadly, I am not this mom. I don’t have a creative bone in my body. I say this a lot and usually I hear one of two responses:
“You dance!” I USED to dance…and it was choreographed. I didn’t make it up.
“You cross-stitch!” Really people? A chimp could cross-stitch; the only skill it takes is patience.
I don’t want to imply that I doubt myself as an individual or as a mother…I don’t…usually. Rather I see the traits of a Granola Mom desirable to me. I wish I had the knack for whipping up delicious healthy meals with an odd collection of leftovers. I wish that I knew how to create something beautiful and useful from random scraps of paper or fabric.
Mostly, I wish I had a greater tolerance for messes. Usually I like this about myself, everything has a place and everything in its place, but sometimes it’s disruptive. There are nights when I can’t sleep because I know there is a mess waiting for me in the morning. My husband’s “little piles” of pocket contents….make me crazy. Dumped toy boxes and unmade beds actually make me feel stressed. Permanent stains….I don’t even want to think about it.
So I need a book, or something, to guide me into being a Granola Mom. One that lays out simple steps and changes you can make. A book that includes a map and instructions to my local farmer’s market would be ideal….one that has a 10-Step Rehabilitation program for Neat-Nicks.
27 July 2011
Nursery Songs
When each of my boys were babies, I had one certain song that I would sing to them. They became "our song".
Baby L, was a colicky baby, so I spent a lot of time singing this song:
When H was a baby, I sang this:
Not nearly as well, of course. It probably comes as no surprise that both of the songs are from musicals, or that one of them has Gene Kelly in it. I am pretty predictable.
Do you and your "baby" have a song?
Baby L, was a colicky baby, so I spent a lot of time singing this song:
When H was a baby, I sang this:
Not nearly as well, of course. It probably comes as no surprise that both of the songs are from musicals, or that one of them has Gene Kelly in it. I am pretty predictable.
Do you and your "baby" have a song?
26 July 2011
A Shift
Yesterday, I registered for my first college classes since receiving my bachelors degree. And yes, I am still feeling a little nauseous today. Since first deciding to start my Masters degree I have felt a tremendous anxiety about it. Now that I have books on the way I am down right sick to my stomach.
Some say, "You'll do fine, you're smart." I am confident that I can handle the actual course load. I am also fairly certain that not only can I handle it, but that I will do well. I like school. I love reading, and I enjoy writing. However, I also know that it is supposed to be challenging, that's what learning is, right? Succeeding or mastering something that yesterday you couldn't do or didn't know?
Others say that it is because it is something "new". I think I can handle change as well as anyone. I am not a person "set in my ways". Sure I like the TP to roll from the top, the couch cushions to be strait, and the dishwasher loaded the "right way"....but I'm flexible. I've handled major moves, I've handled language barriers, I've handled solo-parenting. I'm good with "new."
I think that it is more than being worried about the course work and it's not just adding something new to my life, it is a shift. A shift in my thinking. I am going to be doing something BIG, and for right now it's just for me. I have never made any commitment that requires this much of my time, since becoming a mother. All the decisions that Chief and I have made in the last 10 years...have been for him and for the boys. I am not in anyway suggesting that the outcomes didn't involve me, they certainly have. But they have not been primarily for me. Except this one. I am going to school. I am going to have to fit this into our lives. No one else has to do anything new.
Except of course, there will be change for them. They are bright boys. I will not have as much time as I do now to play with them. My hope is that one day, I will feel that this has all been worth it, that I am worth it. That this was in the best interest of my family. That this shift, was a positive decision for all of us. I suppose the only way to make sure that it will be a positive decision is work hard, work smart, and sleep very little.
A shift is coming...I hope I'm ready.
Some say, "You'll do fine, you're smart." I am confident that I can handle the actual course load. I am also fairly certain that not only can I handle it, but that I will do well. I like school. I love reading, and I enjoy writing. However, I also know that it is supposed to be challenging, that's what learning is, right? Succeeding or mastering something that yesterday you couldn't do or didn't know?
Others say that it is because it is something "new". I think I can handle change as well as anyone. I am not a person "set in my ways". Sure I like the TP to roll from the top, the couch cushions to be strait, and the dishwasher loaded the "right way"....but I'm flexible. I've handled major moves, I've handled language barriers, I've handled solo-parenting. I'm good with "new."
I think that it is more than being worried about the course work and it's not just adding something new to my life, it is a shift. A shift in my thinking. I am going to be doing something BIG, and for right now it's just for me. I have never made any commitment that requires this much of my time, since becoming a mother. All the decisions that Chief and I have made in the last 10 years...have been for him and for the boys. I am not in anyway suggesting that the outcomes didn't involve me, they certainly have. But they have not been primarily for me. Except this one. I am going to school. I am going to have to fit this into our lives. No one else has to do anything new.
Except of course, there will be change for them. They are bright boys. I will not have as much time as I do now to play with them. My hope is that one day, I will feel that this has all been worth it, that I am worth it. That this was in the best interest of my family. That this shift, was a positive decision for all of us. I suppose the only way to make sure that it will be a positive decision is work hard, work smart, and sleep very little.
A shift is coming...I hope I'm ready.
25 July 2011
Water
We were at the beach last week. Sounds rather cavalier, doesn’t it? It wasn’t. It was a big deal. I’ve only been to the ocean a couple of times, and never since Chief and I married. So this was a first for our boys too. We were there with my brother and his family and our parents. We all stayed in a great house, close to the beach with a big pool. It was, truthfully, one of the nicest vacations I’ve ever had.
My world-traveler sister, N, said that Chief and I ought to go swimming one night in the ocean. “Yeah, that does sound nice.” I said. When really I’m thinking no way, never going to happen. Here is the truth; I CAN swim, but not very well. I can also tread water…briefly. The thought of being in an enormous body of water with powerful currents and not being able to touch bottom….terrifies me. Fortunately the water was too cold for anything besides running from the waves as they came on shore. Pools are better, but only the shallow end. Diving boards? Forget it…..I’ve never stepped foot on one, let alone chickened out of a jump. I am afraid of water.
The boys were a little intimidated by the sound and power of the waves. L would go and fill his bucket…but H wouldn’t even step where the sand was wet on the first day. We built a sand castle for the purpose of watching the tide destroy it. Finally I was able to coax H into sitting on my lap as the tide swept over us and the castle. Sadly one particularly strong wave spun us in a little circle (and filled my suit with 12 lbs. of sand) and that was enough for H. He was back to digging in the dry sand and asking his cousins to fill his buckets. The girls must have made a dozen or more trips!
But they are not afraid of water, in general. L is turning into a good swimmer, but always cautious. That would be one of the three words I would always use to describe my oldest…a trait that I appreciate. H on the other hand….sometimes we call him “Tank”. He will go and do nearly anything, so I was actually very surprised at his reaction to the waves. H’s newest thrill is being “thrown” into the water….and not just clearing the surface of the water either….
I hope that they turn into great swimmers...that like jumping from the diving boards. I will enjoy watching them...from the shallow end.
The boys were a little intimidated by the sound and power of the waves. L would go and fill his bucket…but H wouldn’t even step where the sand was wet on the first day. We built a sand castle for the purpose of watching the tide destroy it. Finally I was able to coax H into sitting on my lap as the tide swept over us and the castle. Sadly one particularly strong wave spun us in a little circle (and filled my suit with 12 lbs. of sand) and that was enough for H. He was back to digging in the dry sand and asking his cousins to fill his buckets. The girls must have made a dozen or more trips!
But they are not afraid of water, in general. L is turning into a good swimmer, but always cautious. That would be one of the three words I would always use to describe my oldest…a trait that I appreciate. H on the other hand….sometimes we call him “Tank”. He will go and do nearly anything, so I was actually very surprised at his reaction to the waves. H’s newest thrill is being “thrown” into the water….and not just clearing the surface of the water either….
Note: the water where he was “landing” is actually much deeper than where Chief is standing.
I hope that they turn into great swimmers...that like jumping from the diving boards. I will enjoy watching them...from the shallow end.
22 July 2011
A Return to Regularly Scheduled Activities
With a planned trip to Indiana at the beginning of the month, Chief’s promotion, and a somewhat impromptu vacation to the Outer Banks (now that I’ve been, am I allowed to write “OBX”, without sounding like a tool?) seems like it’s been go-go-go all month. So now we return to our regularly scheduled summer activities. Which are not all that exciting.
I know I’ve mentioned it before, but for the most part my social interaction is in the form of telling the cashier “I have coupons.” Grocery shopping is about the only reason the boys and I leave the house. We have a pool pass, of course. But I will only subject myself to so much sun, and other parents. I’ve already done the math, we only need to use our season pass for the pool 13 times (actually 12.5) to make it a better deal than paying per day.
L has Cub-Scout stuff we could be going to…but these people are crazy. I do not want to spend an entire day, in the scorching heat, to watch boys race boats that “they made themselves” (knowing full-well that Dad made the boat) and exhibit very unsportsman-like behavior. Or meet on a Wednesday night to learn the sport of dodge ball, taught by the parent of the second grader (who failed to teach their child that hurting others is not the point of the game), while being eaten up by every species of mosquito. I am pretty sure L wouldn’t even have a good time.
So we have been going to the pool, several times a week. We’ve been pretending to be spies and squirrels (sometimes at the same time), and playing a lot of hide and seek. The boys are having a great summer.
I have been doing a lot of reading. Lately I’ve been reading a lot of Agatha Christie. I just can’t get enough of the “who done it” mysteries. The thing is, I am terrible at it. I always tell myself “pay attention and see if you can figure it out”. I never can…never. I’m always surprised. Or maybe I just get so wrapped up in the story that I forget that I’m trying to solve something….I mean Jane or Hercule will end up solving it anyway (I fancy myself on a first name basis with them). I’ve also been watching television. Masterpiece Mystery, of course, or Masterpiece Classic…or Contemporary. I put together puzzles, and cross-stitch. I just realized, I also spend the better part of last weekend… (gulp) weeding. My siblings are already laughing….I really AM my mother. (Except she gets out more that I do!)
This has been a great summer so far, it’s been so good that I can’t believe I still get another 5+ weeks with my kids!
Sorry I can’t write more…..I’m on a stakeout, gathering intelligence before I infiltrate the dangerous nut-stealing squirrel gang. I don’t want to blow my cover.
I know I’ve mentioned it before, but for the most part my social interaction is in the form of telling the cashier “I have coupons.” Grocery shopping is about the only reason the boys and I leave the house. We have a pool pass, of course. But I will only subject myself to so much sun, and other parents. I’ve already done the math, we only need to use our season pass for the pool 13 times (actually 12.5) to make it a better deal than paying per day.
L has Cub-Scout stuff we could be going to…but these people are crazy. I do not want to spend an entire day, in the scorching heat, to watch boys race boats that “they made themselves” (knowing full-well that Dad made the boat) and exhibit very unsportsman-like behavior. Or meet on a Wednesday night to learn the sport of dodge ball, taught by the parent of the second grader (who failed to teach their child that hurting others is not the point of the game), while being eaten up by every species of mosquito. I am pretty sure L wouldn’t even have a good time.
So we have been going to the pool, several times a week. We’ve been pretending to be spies and squirrels (sometimes at the same time), and playing a lot of hide and seek. The boys are having a great summer.
I have been doing a lot of reading. Lately I’ve been reading a lot of Agatha Christie. I just can’t get enough of the “who done it” mysteries. The thing is, I am terrible at it. I always tell myself “pay attention and see if you can figure it out”. I never can…never. I’m always surprised. Or maybe I just get so wrapped up in the story that I forget that I’m trying to solve something….I mean Jane or Hercule will end up solving it anyway (I fancy myself on a first name basis with them). I’ve also been watching television. Masterpiece Mystery, of course, or Masterpiece Classic…or Contemporary. I put together puzzles, and cross-stitch. I just realized, I also spend the better part of last weekend… (gulp) weeding. My siblings are already laughing….I really AM my mother. (Except she gets out more that I do!)
This has been a great summer so far, it’s been so good that I can’t believe I still get another 5+ weeks with my kids!
Sorry I can’t write more…..I’m on a stakeout, gathering intelligence before I infiltrate the dangerous nut-stealing squirrel gang. I don’t want to blow my cover.
19 July 2011
Tooth Fairy
L is very close to losing his two front teeth. How much fun would this be if this were December? Seriously, I would sing that song all the time. They are so loose, he has been eating with his side teeth for months now, and he is very excited to lose these teeth. I hope that they are still missing for school pictures in the fall, how cute would that be?
Enter Tooth Fairy.
Enter Tooth Fairy.
When L first lost a tooth, he was excited about the Tooth Fairy, but also scared. He really didn’t like the idea of a stranger coming into his room while he slept…can’t blame him. It is creepy. So we told him he could leave the tooth in our room so she would leave the money there too. This was perfect. It wouldn’t get lost under his pillow, we wouldn’t risk waking him during the exchange, and we wouldn’t forget. But then we did. We forgot. There was the tooth, still there in the morning where he had left it the night before. It’s a good thing he is seven because they will believe almost anything if you are convincing enough. I said she probably got busy and was running behind. Turns out I was right, she got caught up that morning yet, and L was 50¢ richer (I have a hard time believe that parents give their children $5 per tooth!).
But now he is talking about wanting to leave the teeth under his pillow. I guess he is more comfortable now that they’ve done business. So I think I am going to have him put them in a little box? I’ve got to figure something out.
Do your children believe in the Tooth Fairy? How much does she leave?
The only thing creepier than a stranger coming into your room at night is the little plastic bag that I keep in my top drawer that has all his lost teeth. What have you done with your children’s lost teeth?
18 July 2011
Shake It Like you Mean It
I was recently in a position to do a lot of handshaking. Remember I am a stay-at-home mom so aside from church I very rarely shake hands in a more formal way. Chief’s promotion was an exception so I stood shaking a lot of hands.
Fortunately I didn’t have to shake any “fish” but I shook more than enough “lady fingers” and it wasn’t just women either. Come on people…you are not royalty…don’t just place your fingers in my hand. I am not going to bow. Furthermore, don’t grab my fingers it hinders my ability to handshake properly. To me, nothing is more memorable (in a negative way) when meeting someone new is a crappy handshake. It makes me think you lack confidence.
Fortunately I didn’t have to shake any “fish” but I shook more than enough “lady fingers” and it wasn’t just women either. Come on people…you are not royalty…don’t just place your fingers in my hand. I am not going to bow. Furthermore, don’t grab my fingers it hinders my ability to handshake properly. To me, nothing is more memorable (in a negative way) when meeting someone new is a crappy handshake. It makes me think you lack confidence.
I’ve looked online and there are as many as 21 steps to a good handshake. Really?! 21? Why are they making it so complicated? Here are my 4 simple steps:
1. Keep your fingers together and your thumb up.
2. Reach forward and put your palm on mine so the web between your thumb and forefinger is touching mine.
3. Squeeze. Not too hard, of course, but I’d rather have a bone crusher than no squeeze at all.
4. Pump from the elbow, but not more than twice.
Or it could even be simplified even more: SHAKE LIKE YOU MEAN IT!
Certainly there is more to a handshake, than just the handshake. Posture, eye contact, and speaking are all very important too. One thing at a time….
15 July 2011
Chief D
Today’s the day!!! D gets a nickname. Well a nickname that he wants anyway. He had one in high school but never really cared for it. D and his friend Jimmy P.P. call each other “Bung” but that is less of a nickname and more of a term of endearment….for them anyway.
Today is his promotion and his nickname? “Chief” I hope it sticks. In an effort to encourage others to call him “Chief” I will be referring to D as Chief in all my future posts….I hope I can remember.
I’ve never had a nickname. That may not be entirely true….who knows how people referred to me when I wasn’t around. You can’t really do a lot with Mary. Really all you can do is add to it. I was called Marybeth when I was little, Mary-Pie to my dad things like that.
Even our kids’ names don’t lend themselves well to nicknames. Chief (hey I remembered!) had hopes of calling our youngest by a nickname…but H doesn’t like it and won’t answer to it. So we’ve just made up things to call them. I call them Chicken Pot-Pie and Turkey Tetrazzini, Skeisics and Snicklefritz, Click and Clack, or Thing 1 and Thing 2. I could go on….
Anyway…..I am so excited for my husband, but not because of getting called “Chief”, because this promotion is a big deal. It is recognition for his work and experience. It is at once a fruition and mid-point of a long held goal.
And if his only goal had been to make our lives better…he did that a long time ago.
We love you Chief!
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Today is his promotion and his nickname? “Chief” I hope it sticks. In an effort to encourage others to call him “Chief” I will be referring to D as Chief in all my future posts….I hope I can remember.
I’ve never had a nickname. That may not be entirely true….who knows how people referred to me when I wasn’t around. You can’t really do a lot with Mary. Really all you can do is add to it. I was called Marybeth when I was little, Mary-Pie to my dad things like that.
Even our kids’ names don’t lend themselves well to nicknames. Chief (hey I remembered!) had hopes of calling our youngest by a nickname…but H doesn’t like it and won’t answer to it. So we’ve just made up things to call them. I call them Chicken Pot-Pie and Turkey Tetrazzini, Skeisics and Snicklefritz, Click and Clack, or Thing 1 and Thing 2. I could go on….
Anyway…..I am so excited for my husband, but not because of getting called “Chief”, because this promotion is a big deal. It is recognition for his work and experience. It is at once a fruition and mid-point of a long held goal.
And if his only goal had been to make our lives better…he did that a long time ago.
We love you Chief!
14 July 2011
Cookie Rules
Everyone knows there are specific etiquette expectations when it comes to cookies:
First, when baking cookies, dough must be checked periodically to ensure quality. Also the bowl must be scraped clean with a spatula and eaten…just cleaning up.
Second, when transferring cookies from cooling rack or packaging to a cookie jar broken cookies must be eaten immediately.
Third, when getting a cookie from the cookie jar, you may only grab one. However if that one cookie is then stuck to another, you are duty bound to eat both.
Last and most important, you must share. If there is not enough for everyone….you’ll have to sneak yours and pretend you don’t know what happened to the last cookie.
I don’t make the rules people!
First, when baking cookies, dough must be checked periodically to ensure quality. Also the bowl must be scraped clean with a spatula and eaten…just cleaning up.
Second, when transferring cookies from cooling rack or packaging to a cookie jar broken cookies must be eaten immediately.
Third, when getting a cookie from the cookie jar, you may only grab one. However if that one cookie is then stuck to another, you are duty bound to eat both.
Last and most important, you must share. If there is not enough for everyone….you’ll have to sneak yours and pretend you don’t know what happened to the last cookie.
13 July 2011
That April Day
What are the scariest things you’ve done in your life?
Probably the scariest thing that I’ve ever done was quit my job. I had been back to work for only 5 weeks after my maternity leave when I quit my job. I didn’t wake up that morning knowing I was going to quit, and it took several months before I stopped looking for a job and realized that staying at home was even possible.
Here we are more than 7 years later and I am still able to be home with my boys….we even lived in a foreign country for crying out loud. It’s amazing this life I am in now. There are only a handful of individual days that you know will change your life, a wedding day, the birth of children, and the days that you make difficult decisions. Those days are always scary….and beautiful.
Probably the scariest thing that I’ve ever done was quit my job. I had been back to work for only 5 weeks after my maternity leave when I quit my job. I didn’t wake up that morning knowing I was going to quit, and it took several months before I stopped looking for a job and realized that staying at home was even possible.
That morning in April turned out to be the first blind leap into this life. After dropping my baby off at day care I went to my office and on my chair was a letter (the same letter was on all my colleagues’ chairs) informing us of our new hours. On top of our regular appointments during the day we now were required to work till 9 pm each evening and if we didn’t like it we could quit. I closed my office door and called D. “Can I quit?” I asked him after a brief explanation. He was scared too and didn’t see how we could survive so his first instinct was to say no, but when I read him the letter he said “we’ll make it work.” On my way to my regular morning meeting with my boss I asked for a box….. My boss greeted me at his office door and knowing that I would be upset asked if I had a pack-n-play so I could bring L with me to work in the evenings. I told him that it wasn’t necessary because I was quitting. Within minutes I was packing my box and saying my goodbyes when the Vice President was standing at the door. I was feeling forced out, and that this was the intended outcome of those letters as I was the only mom with young children, and I told her as much. I don’t remember what she said, but it wasn’t satisfactory, but nothing she said would have been at that moment. Who knows what I was thinking that day? I was post-partum, I was missing my baby, and I wasn’t sleeping very much. Maybe not the ideal decision making scenario…..
We learned a lot in the months that followed. We learned that we could survive without cable TV that we could stick to a very strict budget, and that ramen noodles aren’t just for college students. It was that April day that made this life I live now possible. It was that beautiful morning that we stepped onto a new road and had no idea where it would lead. Prior to this day D had often talked of re-enlisting in the Army, but I resisted. It was scary enough being married to a police officer I imagined that being married to a soldier would be worse. But after I quit it seemed that the Army was our “open window”. Here we are more than 7 years later and I am still able to be home with my boys….we even lived in a foreign country for crying out loud. It’s amazing this life I am in now. There are only a handful of individual days that you know will change your life, a wedding day, the birth of children, and the days that you make difficult decisions. Those days are always scary….and beautiful.
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