We have most weekends together as a family now. Those weekends are generally filled with some activity or obligation, catching up on housework and laundry, and are overall busy.
I have not worked a job with weekends off, for approximately 11 years now. I still have not decided how I feel about it. As a nurse in a hospital, I could work several days in a row, and then have off several days in a row. The occasional weekend, if I needed it. As a bartender, or waitress, I only worked weekends, and then had most of the week off. It was great!
Now, there are these 2 days a week. And it's usually full. There is something to be said about weekdays off. It's just easier. Easier to get to Doctor appointments, see my fellow tea drinking buddy, Sue, get housework and laundry done without the entire family underfoot... this weekend off thing takes some getting used to!
After church last Sunday, we took the kids grocery shopping. In the desperate hopes that George would behave, because George was absolutely NOT in the mood to behave. At all. And the church had donuts after mass, and the kids were all feeling slightly nauseous.
At the checkout, George found a Monster Truck hanging on one of those displays designed for checkout line tantrums by sadistic evil people who then blame bad parenting for the subsequent meltdowns. There is a special place in hell for those people.
We have the 'store rules' which the kids recite before leaving the vehicle at every grocery store.
"KIDS! What are the rules?"
"NO BEGGING FOR STUFF!"
"AND?"
"NO WHINING!"
"AND?"
"NO CRYING!"
"AND?"
NO RUNNING OFF!"
"AND?"
"NO FIGHTING!"
"AND?"
"NO ARGUING WITH YOU!"
"GOOD! You may now exit the vehicle."
So, George wants a Monster Truck. And the meltdown begins. The resignation that this tantrum is going to last until he is in his car seat, sets in. We were pinned in the checkout, and unable to whisk George out, which, when both parents are present, is standard operating procedure. Misbehave? You are going to sit in the truck with a parent till the shopping is done. (Please note: My mind is already pounding out a list of parents whose children are model kids, that never do that, and always behave in stores. This post is mostly for the rest of us, whose children scream like abused half starved savages at every checkout, over candy bars and matchbox cars.) We were ignoring it, as we loaded groceries on the counter, and waiting for the opportunity to take him out, when the cashier exclaims; "Little Man! You want a sucker?"
"What?.... Yeeees....." George responds suspiciously.
"Okay, but ya gotta quit crying, okay? Can you help me? Can you put the wrapper over there in the garbage?"
"Yes." And, he was off, truck forgotten. To every one's relief, the situation was averted. And I felt like I probably should have tried something more diplomatic than "Knock it off, or you are going to the truck with your Dad, because you are absolutely not getting that monster truck today." as I loaded my groceries onto the counter, and noted Duchess Kate is pregnant, possibly with a girl, according to a magazine at eye level. Super Mom strikes again.
"Every moment I grow, I get closer to death." announces Lexi of factly.
The entire production stopped. The cashier, myself, Bearded Man, the kids, and people in line behind and ahead of us.
"WHAT?!" I gasp
"Every single moment I grow, I am only getting closer to being dead, Mom."
"O.M.G." I moan.
"Hey! You want a sucker, too? Maybe it will brighten your outlook, and you could, you know, maybe talk about something else!" the cashier says brightly.
"I will take a sucker" responds Lexi, "But, I am still getting closer to death."
"There is no tomorrow, Mom. Only today." Joe says wisely.
"That's true. Pretty much we are all working toward being dead." Lexi agrees.
"Moooooom!!!!! This is embarassing! Make her stop!" Kaila groans.
"You can ALL have suckers!" the cashier says desperately. "Just, don't forget to throw the wrappers out. You know, leave the earth a better place, before you all go. Which, I hope isn't for a very long time...."
"We never know when our time will come." Lexi says casually.
"ALEXANDRIA! STOPPIT! For heaven's sake, we just left church!!!" I beg.
"It's TRUE, Mom." Lexi argues, around her sucker.
"Aaaaaand, your total is...." interrupts the cashier.
"HA! I STILL beat you at most amount saved at Tops!" says Bearded Man smugly, looking over the receipt.
Family memories and bonding and all that.
Tuesday, February 25, 2014
Wednesday, February 19, 2014
The Once a Year Date
This past weekend, Bearded Man and I decided to hire a sitter, and go out for the day. We hadn't been out since we left the kids with some friends, to go Christmas shopping for a few hours last September. Before that, was last February, when we had a few hours out, before helping out at a friend's Benefit.
Anyhow, we don't get out much. Between crazy work schedules and Kid schedules - Every single time we think we have an opening, Kaila has some event or other that takes precedence. My 12 year old has a much more exciting life than I do, currently.
We had planned to go to Erie, PA for the day, for no other reason than, it was a distance from home, and away from the area. We thought we would hit the mall there, and some of the stores around it, and see what we could see while we were there.
Before we headed out of town, we ordered pizza to be delivered to the house for dinner that evening. We cleaned the house, left a list of a few chores for the kids, and reminded the sitter we would not be back until VERY late. To make it even easier, we even told her to use paper plates.
It was a nice day. A leisurly lunch with no children or pets hanging on us, followed by wandering in and out of various stores, a fun conversation with the owners of a wine store full of locally made wines - it was so nice. I cannot find the words to express my absolute delight in wandering through a store, and happening upon an entire display of Polish Pottery! I have been coveting that stuff forever!
We decided at some point, to go out to dinner, before heading home. The only thing I did not want was a sports bar or buger joint. We just wanted someplace nice that did not involve the menu displayed over the order counter, really.
We ended up at "The Fox and the Hound Pub". It brought forth visions of foggy England with Sherlock Holmes and Watson. Pipes and Brittish hats. Dark lighting and muted conversation.
We should have known, when we stumbled through the doorway, to find two impossibly young persons checking the ID of entrants. Not ours, of course. They just looked at us strangely and waved us in.
Into a loud sports bar/burger joint. With no less than 15 televisions displayed around the room, loud thumping music, and young people everywhere. Perfect, beautiful young people, dressed casually preppy, not unlike my youngest brother, who would have fallen in immediate love with the place, and been the life of the party before leaving for his next adventure. Malachi has reached a level of coolness I will never even bother to aspire to.
After finding an empty booth, we gazed around in resignation. And realized we were really some of the oldest people there. Here and there, were sprinkled a few others that were up there in age - you know - over 35, but, we were right near the top of the age ladder there that night.
"Jasin!" I tried to say, over the loud music "We are some of the oldest people here! When did WE become 'the old people'?!"
"No we are not! Look! Over there! If that guy moves, you will see over there, there is another couple that looks around our age, if not a little older."
"There aren't a whole lot of older people here, Jasin."
"We are NOT old!"
"Really? We just bought a quilt, mixing bowls for bread, and a teapot. And thought it was wonderful."
"We bought wine! Never mind. Wow. We are old."
"This is just sad."
We ordered an appetizer, that was delivered without silverware. It was one of those things that COULD be eaten with fingers, but, better with a fork. It was set on the table with "There ya go, hon!" as the waitress spun off again.
"Did that girl, who is almost young enough to be my daughter just refer to me as 'Hon'?" I said to Jasin. "Wow. I even SOUND old now. And LOOK! That girl over there? The one wiping the table? She is WIPING EVERYTHING RIGHT ON TO THE FLOOR? OH. MY. GOD!!!! Aaaaaannnddd; I now sound like a parent. I think I should have a drink."
Dinner was eventually served. We inquired about forks. And, a few minutes later, were presented with exactly one (1) fork. It was explained with a shrug, that it was the last fork in the establishment, currently, soooooooo......
After dinner, and the discovery of being physically as well as mentaly old now, we headed back home. A 15 minute stop at a casino netted us enough money to pay the sitter, which was actually pretty awesome.
Upon arriving home, we paid the sitter, took her and her brother home, and started to cart in our spoils. And found the table still had all the cups from dinner. And the puppy had not been let out. And the girls hadn't done their chores. And the toilet lid was now in 2 pieces.
A 12:30 AM call netted a sleepy "Oh. Yeah. I forgot. I think Lexi did it, and I think she got hurt."
First thing the next morning, I had the kids lined up on the couch. And demanded to know exactly WHAT THE HECK had gone on while we were away?!?!?!
PS, Lexi, the sitter said you got hurt, and the toilet lid broke. Are you okay, and HOW THE HECK DID YOU BREAK THE TOILET??!!!!!"
Which produced outrage from my kids, who blamed the sitter's brother. Which produced outraged texts to the sitter, who apologised.
And I came to the realization, that it had just cost me, on the low end, between a new toilet, having pizza delivered to the house, and paying the sitter, $350. to leave the house for ONE. DAY. I could have gone on a 4 day cruise by myself AND had a drink tab for that much.
I do have Polish Pottery teacups now. And wine. I have wine. So, there is that.
Do I think my kids were completely blameless? Not really. It sounds like it was an overall crazy day.
The biggest conclusion that was reached was? We need to get out more than once or twice a year without kids. It is worth replacing the plumbing in the end...
Anyhow, we don't get out much. Between crazy work schedules and Kid schedules - Every single time we think we have an opening, Kaila has some event or other that takes precedence. My 12 year old has a much more exciting life than I do, currently.
We had planned to go to Erie, PA for the day, for no other reason than, it was a distance from home, and away from the area. We thought we would hit the mall there, and some of the stores around it, and see what we could see while we were there.
Before we headed out of town, we ordered pizza to be delivered to the house for dinner that evening. We cleaned the house, left a list of a few chores for the kids, and reminded the sitter we would not be back until VERY late. To make it even easier, we even told her to use paper plates.
It was a nice day. A leisurly lunch with no children or pets hanging on us, followed by wandering in and out of various stores, a fun conversation with the owners of a wine store full of locally made wines - it was so nice. I cannot find the words to express my absolute delight in wandering through a store, and happening upon an entire display of Polish Pottery! I have been coveting that stuff forever!
We decided at some point, to go out to dinner, before heading home. The only thing I did not want was a sports bar or buger joint. We just wanted someplace nice that did not involve the menu displayed over the order counter, really.
We ended up at "The Fox and the Hound Pub". It brought forth visions of foggy England with Sherlock Holmes and Watson. Pipes and Brittish hats. Dark lighting and muted conversation.
We should have known, when we stumbled through the doorway, to find two impossibly young persons checking the ID of entrants. Not ours, of course. They just looked at us strangely and waved us in.
Into a loud sports bar/burger joint. With no less than 15 televisions displayed around the room, loud thumping music, and young people everywhere. Perfect, beautiful young people, dressed casually preppy, not unlike my youngest brother, who would have fallen in immediate love with the place, and been the life of the party before leaving for his next adventure. Malachi has reached a level of coolness I will never even bother to aspire to.
After finding an empty booth, we gazed around in resignation. And realized we were really some of the oldest people there. Here and there, were sprinkled a few others that were up there in age - you know - over 35, but, we were right near the top of the age ladder there that night.
"Jasin!" I tried to say, over the loud music "We are some of the oldest people here! When did WE become 'the old people'?!"
"No we are not! Look! Over there! If that guy moves, you will see over there, there is another couple that looks around our age, if not a little older."
"There aren't a whole lot of older people here, Jasin."
"We are NOT old!"
"Really? We just bought a quilt, mixing bowls for bread, and a teapot. And thought it was wonderful."
"We bought wine! Never mind. Wow. We are old."
"This is just sad."
We ordered an appetizer, that was delivered without silverware. It was one of those things that COULD be eaten with fingers, but, better with a fork. It was set on the table with "There ya go, hon!" as the waitress spun off again.
"Did that girl, who is almost young enough to be my daughter just refer to me as 'Hon'?" I said to Jasin. "Wow. I even SOUND old now. And LOOK! That girl over there? The one wiping the table? She is WIPING EVERYTHING RIGHT ON TO THE FLOOR? OH. MY. GOD!!!! Aaaaaannnddd; I now sound like a parent. I think I should have a drink."
Dinner was eventually served. We inquired about forks. And, a few minutes later, were presented with exactly one (1) fork. It was explained with a shrug, that it was the last fork in the establishment, currently, soooooooo......
After dinner, and the discovery of being physically as well as mentaly old now, we headed back home. A 15 minute stop at a casino netted us enough money to pay the sitter, which was actually pretty awesome.
Upon arriving home, we paid the sitter, took her and her brother home, and started to cart in our spoils. And found the table still had all the cups from dinner. And the puppy had not been let out. And the girls hadn't done their chores. And the toilet lid was now in 2 pieces.
A 12:30 AM call netted a sleepy "Oh. Yeah. I forgot. I think Lexi did it, and I think she got hurt."
First thing the next morning, I had the kids lined up on the couch. And demanded to know exactly WHAT THE HECK had gone on while we were away?!?!?!
PS, Lexi, the sitter said you got hurt, and the toilet lid broke. Are you okay, and HOW THE HECK DID YOU BREAK THE TOILET??!!!!!"
Which produced outrage from my kids, who blamed the sitter's brother. Which produced outraged texts to the sitter, who apologised.
And I came to the realization, that it had just cost me, on the low end, between a new toilet, having pizza delivered to the house, and paying the sitter, $350. to leave the house for ONE. DAY. I could have gone on a 4 day cruise by myself AND had a drink tab for that much.
I do have Polish Pottery teacups now. And wine. I have wine. So, there is that.
Do I think my kids were completely blameless? Not really. It sounds like it was an overall crazy day.
The biggest conclusion that was reached was? We need to get out more than once or twice a year without kids. It is worth replacing the plumbing in the end...
Wednesday, February 12, 2014
When Mama Gets Stressed
Today, on the way to work, we discovered it was a balmy -20 outside. -31 at work. And that, is pretty much how this entire miserable winter has been. I am so done.
I think this winter has gone into the record books as one of the worst in awhile. And, of course, we decided it was a splendid time to get a puppy. You know, the one that was too little to be really potty trained? The Husky one, that thrives in freezing temperatures and snow? THAT one.
Between the snowed in kids, the teething, potty training puppy, and the the bug that hit our house hard for almost 2 months - this Mama is stressed.
And there is the constant wet feet, due to slopping through snow, slush and misery, that gets slopped through the house, or collects in puddles near anyplace footwear is kicked off. The only time wet feet are not a miserable inconvenience, is when they are standing on a nice sandy beach with waves rolling over them. Or dangling in a pool.
Yesterday was a rough day. It was one of THOSE days at work. On the way home, Colleen (the lady I car pool with) and I were discussing how much more stressful our jobs are in the rural clinic, then they ever were in a busy hospital full of acute patients. We never vented as much after work at the hospital, than we do after work in a clinic.
I just KNEW I was going to end up snapping at my kids, because I was frazzled over the day in general. And half a night of hauling the puppy outside in freezing temps. I would just love ONE day by myself, to give my poor house a good scrub down. And sleep uninterrupted.
It happened. I walked in the front door, found all four of my kids crowded around the ipad, and the house just a miserable mess, dinner burning on the stove, and the puppy in dire need of outside time.
The fuse was officially blown. And this parent freaked out. Technology was officially banned for the rest of the week. They were told I need to be seriously impressed, of they want any access to it next week during Winter Break. (You know, after all the time off they just had with Christmas, sickness, and snow cancellations? We get MORE time cooped up in the messy germ infested house with which to get on each others very last nerve.)
Dinner was somewhat salvaged, I was too tired to clean, or over see cleaning. The boys were allowed to pretend the bathtub was a hot tub for an hour - not sure if soap was involved or not, but, it passed for a bath in my book last night.
I called Bearded Man, and vented some more, yelled at him too, for good measure, and hung up, still stressed.
"Mom?" Kaila says casually, "Do you want me to get you some Pepsi, from Dad's hidden stash? you can have a drink!"
Wonderful. I rarely drink as much as I talk about. I don't think I have had any alcohol since the week of Thanksgiving, truthfully. And the one drink I had was immediately followed by several glasses of water. My kids must totally think I am an alcoholic.
"Okay." I sniffed
"Here you go.... just go ahead and make a nice drink, Mom!"
"And I will get you a straw!" pipes up Joe.
"Thanks, guys."
I poured a drink figuring I would deal with the thought that my kids obviously think liquor is the way to fix bad moods, which is probably not ever a good thing, and sank into my recliner. I had decided that maybe a good workout would be a perfect stress reliever, but, once I hit that chair it wasn't happening.
Which really just started the train of stress on a whole new railroad. Because it reminded me of my sister's wedding. And the four zillion pounds I need to lose in 3.5 months.
For awhile, I had her convinced it would be so much better if they just took off and had a nice elopement/destination wedding someplace tropical. I even gave her the name of a resort in the Dominican Republic that would suffice nicely.
There was a change of heart. The wedding was back on. It began as a casual affair, in the Groom's back yard, wear what you like, pig roast.
Then she bought a dress. A beautiful formal dress.
And decided we needed definite colors. Maybe turquoise and silver. Perfect for the end of May!
And then there was the "Kyle says you need to wear red" text.
Red. Okay. I can look like an apple for the day. "Long or short dress?"
"Whatever you like."
Several days later: "Hope you don't mind... I gave so and so your phone number. She wants to go dress shopping with you. You will really like each other a lot."
Several days later: "Please don't kill me, but I also gave your number to Kyle's sister. I know you two didn't hit it off at the bridal show, but, she wants to go dress shopping with you and so and so. Also, I know that your girls are going to be flower girls, and I said they could wear whatever, but now they need to wear white and red. Also, we added another flower girl, and they all need to match...."
I now have less than 4 months to lose a zillion pounds, or be forever immortalized in my size 2 sister's wedding album as the Matron of Honor who looked like a big red apple. In a dress that will undoubtedly make me look pregnant. Awesome. Ah well.
The only thing getting me through this week completely, is that we are headed to Erie PA kid free on Saturday. The first time we have been out kid free since last September. Probably we won't do anything in Erie that we couldn't have done in Buffalo, but, the change of scenery will be nice. My big plans are to buy new scrubs and a teapot. Because, I am just soooo exciting these days. I was thinking about re-stocking the liquor collection, but, maybe it isn't such a wonderful idea, what with my kids thinking that is the best way to calm Mom the heck down and all....
When I mentioned needing a sitter to my friend Jen, and inquired if her daughter was available, the message was "And you tell her, that, I will pay VERY WELL, but the first, and every subsequent 'When will you be home?' 'do you think it will be soon?' message will dock $10. from her pay...." (which would have applied to any sitter, by the way.)
Here's to weekends! May they be long and plentiful!
And to bleach! What bleach is to messy houses and germs, is what antibiotics are to humans, I suspect.
I think this winter has gone into the record books as one of the worst in awhile. And, of course, we decided it was a splendid time to get a puppy. You know, the one that was too little to be really potty trained? The Husky one, that thrives in freezing temperatures and snow? THAT one.
Between the snowed in kids, the teething, potty training puppy, and the the bug that hit our house hard for almost 2 months - this Mama is stressed.
And there is the constant wet feet, due to slopping through snow, slush and misery, that gets slopped through the house, or collects in puddles near anyplace footwear is kicked off. The only time wet feet are not a miserable inconvenience, is when they are standing on a nice sandy beach with waves rolling over them. Or dangling in a pool.
Yesterday was a rough day. It was one of THOSE days at work. On the way home, Colleen (the lady I car pool with) and I were discussing how much more stressful our jobs are in the rural clinic, then they ever were in a busy hospital full of acute patients. We never vented as much after work at the hospital, than we do after work in a clinic.
I just KNEW I was going to end up snapping at my kids, because I was frazzled over the day in general. And half a night of hauling the puppy outside in freezing temps. I would just love ONE day by myself, to give my poor house a good scrub down. And sleep uninterrupted.
It happened. I walked in the front door, found all four of my kids crowded around the ipad, and the house just a miserable mess, dinner burning on the stove, and the puppy in dire need of outside time.
The fuse was officially blown. And this parent freaked out. Technology was officially banned for the rest of the week. They were told I need to be seriously impressed, of they want any access to it next week during Winter Break. (You know, after all the time off they just had with Christmas, sickness, and snow cancellations? We get MORE time cooped up in the messy germ infested house with which to get on each others very last nerve.)
Dinner was somewhat salvaged, I was too tired to clean, or over see cleaning. The boys were allowed to pretend the bathtub was a hot tub for an hour - not sure if soap was involved or not, but, it passed for a bath in my book last night.
I called Bearded Man, and vented some more, yelled at him too, for good measure, and hung up, still stressed.
"Mom?" Kaila says casually, "Do you want me to get you some Pepsi, from Dad's hidden stash? you can have a drink!"
Wonderful. I rarely drink as much as I talk about. I don't think I have had any alcohol since the week of Thanksgiving, truthfully. And the one drink I had was immediately followed by several glasses of water. My kids must totally think I am an alcoholic.
"Okay." I sniffed
"Here you go.... just go ahead and make a nice drink, Mom!"
"And I will get you a straw!" pipes up Joe.
"Thanks, guys."
I poured a drink figuring I would deal with the thought that my kids obviously think liquor is the way to fix bad moods, which is probably not ever a good thing, and sank into my recliner. I had decided that maybe a good workout would be a perfect stress reliever, but, once I hit that chair it wasn't happening.
Which really just started the train of stress on a whole new railroad. Because it reminded me of my sister's wedding. And the four zillion pounds I need to lose in 3.5 months.
For awhile, I had her convinced it would be so much better if they just took off and had a nice elopement/destination wedding someplace tropical. I even gave her the name of a resort in the Dominican Republic that would suffice nicely.
There was a change of heart. The wedding was back on. It began as a casual affair, in the Groom's back yard, wear what you like, pig roast.
Then she bought a dress. A beautiful formal dress.
And decided we needed definite colors. Maybe turquoise and silver. Perfect for the end of May!
And then there was the "Kyle says you need to wear red" text.
Red. Okay. I can look like an apple for the day. "Long or short dress?"
"Whatever you like."
Several days later: "Hope you don't mind... I gave so and so your phone number. She wants to go dress shopping with you. You will really like each other a lot."
Several days later: "Please don't kill me, but I also gave your number to Kyle's sister. I know you two didn't hit it off at the bridal show, but, she wants to go dress shopping with you and so and so. Also, I know that your girls are going to be flower girls, and I said they could wear whatever, but now they need to wear white and red. Also, we added another flower girl, and they all need to match...."
I now have less than 4 months to lose a zillion pounds, or be forever immortalized in my size 2 sister's wedding album as the Matron of Honor who looked like a big red apple. In a dress that will undoubtedly make me look pregnant. Awesome. Ah well.
The only thing getting me through this week completely, is that we are headed to Erie PA kid free on Saturday. The first time we have been out kid free since last September. Probably we won't do anything in Erie that we couldn't have done in Buffalo, but, the change of scenery will be nice. My big plans are to buy new scrubs and a teapot. Because, I am just soooo exciting these days. I was thinking about re-stocking the liquor collection, but, maybe it isn't such a wonderful idea, what with my kids thinking that is the best way to calm Mom the heck down and all....
When I mentioned needing a sitter to my friend Jen, and inquired if her daughter was available, the message was "And you tell her, that, I will pay VERY WELL, but the first, and every subsequent 'When will you be home?' 'do you think it will be soon?' message will dock $10. from her pay...." (which would have applied to any sitter, by the way.)
Here's to weekends! May they be long and plentiful!
And to bleach! What bleach is to messy houses and germs, is what antibiotics are to humans, I suspect.
Tuesday, February 4, 2014
Tolerance
Oh, where to start? I have so many ideas rolling around in my head, along with a headache. This should make for an interesting ramble today. Or not.
Lately I have been thinking about tolerance. What am I supposed tell my kids about tolerance? There doesn't seem to be a whole lot of it anymore. But, everyone is expected to tolerate everything. Whether it's something objectionable or not.
Trolling Facebook, I have noticed that, when news sites, or very public sites post anything, be it something nice, tragic, illegal, political, religious, weather.... the commentary that follows is generally unkind, rude, mean, sarcastic, full of spelling and grammar errors, intolerant and offensive. While preaching tolerance.
It was interesting to see the outrage over the Superbowl Coca Cola commercial. The one that featured several different languages and nationalities singing 'America the Beautiful'. I raised my eyebrows, and knew on the spot, that Facebook and every social media outlet everywhere, was going to have a heck of a debate going on.
Reading Facebook was more interesting than the Superbowl. I had friends on both sides of the debate. Name calling began, taunting, sarcasm, superiority, condensation, and ugliness on both sides happened.
On Coca Cola's website, an American soldier chimed in his thoughts on the matter, and was immediately attacked in the most horrific way, slandered, hatred spewing, vicious nastiness, and all around filth was shot back at him.
All by tolerant people.
Would people be this horrible, if there was no social media? It's a lot harder to say these things in person, than it is to type away with relative anonymity online. It's made me dislike society as a whole, lately.
We preach against bullies. But it obviously isn't practiced much. If it's acceptable for adults to say such horrid things, why should our kids think it's wrong? Every other pre teen I know, has a Facebook account. They aren't idiots. They see how people respond to everything. Sometimes there are nice things, but, the greater percentage anymore seems to be negative.
I thought about maybe taking a break from social media. That's just putting one's head in the sand though. It's still there. People of all politics and religions, beliefs, orientations, are still going to be out there, posting offensive things regarding anything in opposition of their opinions and orientations, and ranting about tolerance because anyone who thinks differently is obviously UN tolerant and just WRONG. "Haters, bigots, racist, phobic, unaccepting" words I see regularly........ what sort of message is this sending to the next generation?? WHAT am I supposed to tell my kids? I could write at this point, about how I HAVE been answering. But, that would send who knows how many into a tizzy, and seriously, that isn't the point.
We go to church. We used to go more regularly, but, our parish employed a new priest a few years ago. He doesn't seem to be very tolerant of anyone. His contempt of his parish is evident in every scathing homily. Several families have re-located to different parishes. My own children hate church, and it is a fight to get anyone ready Sunday mornings.
In this world of so much bad; I want my kids to have a foundation of good. Everyone practices their faith their own way. I don't particularly care what religion anyone is; I figure my kids all love me in their own way - the Lord probably feels the same about his kids. So, do what you gotta do. I think actions outside the church matter almost more than actions inside it. That being said; We are Catholic. I grew up as such, and have always loved it, found peace in in, and wanted my kids to have that same love for it. I don't bash other religions, and don't like when people bash mine. I want my kids to have some sort of moral foundation for their struggles with this crazy world we live in.
At this time, we are researching other local parishes. Because, I NEED for my kids to have a place they can go to get re centered and have some sort of convictions, growing up. In this world of increasing meanness that is acceptable by society, I need them to have some good. And see some good.
Maybe to some, church or faith isn't an answer that works for them. I see lots of people who post (Usually those that are preaching the most tolerance...) objectionable things about my faith on Facebook. Do what works for you. My offense at their opinions would probably spark sarcastic commentary, and "If you don't like it, delete me - it's my wall!" posts. And, that's just not what I want my kids to learn. I don't want them to learn that it is okay to say, write, post, things that could hurt people. Things that poke fun of other's beliefs. Things that are deliberately sarcastic, rude, cruel, and posted or said with the certainty that someone will be offended, hurt, angry, and unable to respond without immediate attack from several people. All in the name of tolerance.
The old adage "If you can't say something nice, you shouldn't say anything at all" seems anymore, the most appropriate response I could possibly teach my children, for anything they may encounter, in person, or online.
Lately I have been thinking about tolerance. What am I supposed tell my kids about tolerance? There doesn't seem to be a whole lot of it anymore. But, everyone is expected to tolerate everything. Whether it's something objectionable or not.
Trolling Facebook, I have noticed that, when news sites, or very public sites post anything, be it something nice, tragic, illegal, political, religious, weather.... the commentary that follows is generally unkind, rude, mean, sarcastic, full of spelling and grammar errors, intolerant and offensive. While preaching tolerance.
It was interesting to see the outrage over the Superbowl Coca Cola commercial. The one that featured several different languages and nationalities singing 'America the Beautiful'. I raised my eyebrows, and knew on the spot, that Facebook and every social media outlet everywhere, was going to have a heck of a debate going on.
Reading Facebook was more interesting than the Superbowl. I had friends on both sides of the debate. Name calling began, taunting, sarcasm, superiority, condensation, and ugliness on both sides happened.
On Coca Cola's website, an American soldier chimed in his thoughts on the matter, and was immediately attacked in the most horrific way, slandered, hatred spewing, vicious nastiness, and all around filth was shot back at him.
All by tolerant people.
Would people be this horrible, if there was no social media? It's a lot harder to say these things in person, than it is to type away with relative anonymity online. It's made me dislike society as a whole, lately.
We preach against bullies. But it obviously isn't practiced much. If it's acceptable for adults to say such horrid things, why should our kids think it's wrong? Every other pre teen I know, has a Facebook account. They aren't idiots. They see how people respond to everything. Sometimes there are nice things, but, the greater percentage anymore seems to be negative.
I thought about maybe taking a break from social media. That's just putting one's head in the sand though. It's still there. People of all politics and religions, beliefs, orientations, are still going to be out there, posting offensive things regarding anything in opposition of their opinions and orientations, and ranting about tolerance because anyone who thinks differently is obviously UN tolerant and just WRONG. "Haters, bigots, racist, phobic, unaccepting" words I see regularly........ what sort of message is this sending to the next generation?? WHAT am I supposed to tell my kids? I could write at this point, about how I HAVE been answering. But, that would send who knows how many into a tizzy, and seriously, that isn't the point.
We go to church. We used to go more regularly, but, our parish employed a new priest a few years ago. He doesn't seem to be very tolerant of anyone. His contempt of his parish is evident in every scathing homily. Several families have re-located to different parishes. My own children hate church, and it is a fight to get anyone ready Sunday mornings.
In this world of so much bad; I want my kids to have a foundation of good. Everyone practices their faith their own way. I don't particularly care what religion anyone is; I figure my kids all love me in their own way - the Lord probably feels the same about his kids. So, do what you gotta do. I think actions outside the church matter almost more than actions inside it. That being said; We are Catholic. I grew up as such, and have always loved it, found peace in in, and wanted my kids to have that same love for it. I don't bash other religions, and don't like when people bash mine. I want my kids to have some sort of moral foundation for their struggles with this crazy world we live in.
At this time, we are researching other local parishes. Because, I NEED for my kids to have a place they can go to get re centered and have some sort of convictions, growing up. In this world of increasing meanness that is acceptable by society, I need them to have some good. And see some good.
Maybe to some, church or faith isn't an answer that works for them. I see lots of people who post (Usually those that are preaching the most tolerance...) objectionable things about my faith on Facebook. Do what works for you. My offense at their opinions would probably spark sarcastic commentary, and "If you don't like it, delete me - it's my wall!" posts. And, that's just not what I want my kids to learn. I don't want them to learn that it is okay to say, write, post, things that could hurt people. Things that poke fun of other's beliefs. Things that are deliberately sarcastic, rude, cruel, and posted or said with the certainty that someone will be offended, hurt, angry, and unable to respond without immediate attack from several people. All in the name of tolerance.
The old adage "If you can't say something nice, you shouldn't say anything at all" seems anymore, the most appropriate response I could possibly teach my children, for anything they may encounter, in person, or online.
Friday, January 24, 2014
Birthday Fail
Last night I was informed by my eldest child that I was slacking, and really needed to get a new Blog post up. No pressure or anything.
This past weekend was George's Birthday. We have managed to keep him in one piece for 4 years now. Which is nothing short of amazing, when it comes to George.
I was so excited about George's birthday present, hidden away for several months now. I could hardly wait to give it to him. Last summer, when we were at the Buffalo Museum of Science, George had gotten engrossed in the museum's wooden train set. He was so into it, that I started looking for one for him. And, this past fall, stumbled upon one mostly by accident. And this train set was the Cadillac of train sets. It included an enormous table, every wooden track piece imaginable, trees, houses, wooden people, cranes, bridges, signs, trains, a limited edition "Silver Thomas" train Polar Express, a conductor's hat, and a wooden train whistle. It. Was. Amazing.
We decided to not give it for Christmas, and instead, hang onto it until George's Birthday. I could hardly wait.
Birthday morning dawned, and George came tearing down the stairs, and set upon this huge train set, taking up a large portion of the living room, and was so happy! We had set up a basic track, and I had put trees and signs all over, so he could see how amazing this train set was. State of the art, and all that.
He unwrapped the trains we had bought as an addition to the existing set. And then looked at me in confusion.
"Mom! Where are the other presents?"
"What? What other presents? This one takes up half the living room, and has about 2 million pieces! This IS your birthday present!"
"Ohhhh!!!!! Haha! You hid them in the Family Room!" He announces, and runs out of the living room. And then back. "Mom. Where are the monster trucks?"
"What Monster Trucks? You got a train set!"
"Oh."
"George, do you LIKE the train set?"
"Well, yes. I do. Thank you so much! I can make a whole town for my monster trucks, and drive them on it!"
"What?! It's a TRAIN set, George! I mean, you can play Monster trucks on it if you want, but...."
"Oh good! I will just put all this stuff away..." he breathed in relief, and began dismantling the entire set, and putting all the trains, all the tracks, the trees, the signs, away. In their many many bins, that fit under the set. He trotted off, found his basket of Monster Trucks, and used the train table for a monster truck track and town.
I feel as if this was a complete failure. Joe seems to like it. And they play with it after I tuck them in at night. So there is that.
The new puppy continues to thrive. Having a Siberian Husky in Siberian weather is rather inconvenient. He LOVES the cold and the snow. Every morning between 5:30 and 6:00 am, I am standing out in my back yard with this dog that thinks this is the perfect time to play. I have noted that, after living in my house for 11 years, more of my neighbors are outside at the same time during the pre-dawn hours, than they are during daylight. Every morning, as I stand outside in my bathrobe, nightgown, winter coat, gloves, occasionally sweatpants thrown on when it gets below -5, Bearded Man's knee high rubber boots, and my insane hair, I see my neighbors. Almost all of them. And no one talks. Once, I heard the guy who lives behind me, whom I think I have spoken to exactly 3 times ever, I think his name is Kurt, or someone from his household, gasp in shock, as I stood out back under flood lights, in my crazy cat lady outfit, with this psychotic puppy. Otherwise, no one talks. Not sure if it's because it is too early, or if it's because I am terrifying.
I feel like I should apologise every single day, for possibly scaring the neighbors.
Kaila went and saw "Wicked" in Buffalo with the school last weekend. She has sung "Popular" every minute of every day since. Memories of my voice lesson days, and practicing opera, opera in Italian, and show songs on top of my lungs daily for five years, came back to haunt me. Kaila has decided show business is for her, so, sing on, kiddo! In your room.
I could write an entire Blog, on Joe's one liners. Joe continues to be a little too big for his britches. He informed me the other day that he couldn't wait to live on his private island, in a tent surrounded by guards. (After we did our evening "I hate dinner!" "SIT DOWN AND EAT!!!!!" Routine) I asked if I could visit his island sometime. "What part of 'PRIVATE' did you not understand?" he retorted. Yeah, well. The title of this Blog indicates that I am not a perfect parent.....
Honestly, there isn't a whole lot in the way of excitement going on. Bearded Man continues to bake bread. Honestly. It is so amazingly wonderful. Recently, I was crazy busy at work, and I get this text: "Call me. I was in an accident" Which produced strong language from me. The type ladies and non-sailors are not supposed to utter. This being the second accident in less than a year....
The next day, someone at work came into my office and inquired as to the status of the accident, and all involved. I was in the middle of an on-line meeting, and wasn't sure if it was the kind with microphones. But, I said "UGH! I am SO aggravated! He is allergic to apricots. I am THIS CLOSE to hiding apricots in every single one of his meals this weekend! Oh, never mind. I CAN'T. Because he makes BREAD. And it is the best stupid bread ever, and I love it, and it is amazing, and and his baking is what is going to restrain me from buying apricots today."
And then realized I had just pretty much admitted to premeditated homicide in front of almost 300 Federal Employees. And then, with relief, realized that the microphone wasn't on for this meeting. I am not REALLY going to hide apricots in his meals. I am not all the way convinced he is really allergic to them anyway. His mother said he had a reaction to them when he was a toddler. And, there is the bread. I have been craving it all day, at work. It is so good.
In other news, the weather continues to be freezing, and, other than the puppy, who loves it, the rest of us are in the house. All the time. I have been flooding my Pinterest boards with Garden ideas. And trying not to think about the puppy potentially destroying them. I cannot wait until I can throw my kids out the door, and order them to play until dinner time. This weekend, they will be occupying their time cleaning bedrooms. Because it needs to be done, and because it will keep them quiet, as they spend their days in their rooms quietly, hoping that I don't notice they aren't cleaning, while I enjoy the new book I have on my phone's Kindle in peace. Win win!!!
Till next time! Stay warm!
This past weekend was George's Birthday. We have managed to keep him in one piece for 4 years now. Which is nothing short of amazing, when it comes to George.
I was so excited about George's birthday present, hidden away for several months now. I could hardly wait to give it to him. Last summer, when we were at the Buffalo Museum of Science, George had gotten engrossed in the museum's wooden train set. He was so into it, that I started looking for one for him. And, this past fall, stumbled upon one mostly by accident. And this train set was the Cadillac of train sets. It included an enormous table, every wooden track piece imaginable, trees, houses, wooden people, cranes, bridges, signs, trains, a limited edition "Silver Thomas" train Polar Express, a conductor's hat, and a wooden train whistle. It. Was. Amazing.
We decided to not give it for Christmas, and instead, hang onto it until George's Birthday. I could hardly wait.
Birthday morning dawned, and George came tearing down the stairs, and set upon this huge train set, taking up a large portion of the living room, and was so happy! We had set up a basic track, and I had put trees and signs all over, so he could see how amazing this train set was. State of the art, and all that.
He unwrapped the trains we had bought as an addition to the existing set. And then looked at me in confusion.
"Mom! Where are the other presents?"
"What? What other presents? This one takes up half the living room, and has about 2 million pieces! This IS your birthday present!"
"Ohhhh!!!!! Haha! You hid them in the Family Room!" He announces, and runs out of the living room. And then back. "Mom. Where are the monster trucks?"
"What Monster Trucks? You got a train set!"
"Oh."
"George, do you LIKE the train set?"
"Well, yes. I do. Thank you so much! I can make a whole town for my monster trucks, and drive them on it!"
"What?! It's a TRAIN set, George! I mean, you can play Monster trucks on it if you want, but...."
"Oh good! I will just put all this stuff away..." he breathed in relief, and began dismantling the entire set, and putting all the trains, all the tracks, the trees, the signs, away. In their many many bins, that fit under the set. He trotted off, found his basket of Monster Trucks, and used the train table for a monster truck track and town.
I feel as if this was a complete failure. Joe seems to like it. And they play with it after I tuck them in at night. So there is that.
The new puppy continues to thrive. Having a Siberian Husky in Siberian weather is rather inconvenient. He LOVES the cold and the snow. Every morning between 5:30 and 6:00 am, I am standing out in my back yard with this dog that thinks this is the perfect time to play. I have noted that, after living in my house for 11 years, more of my neighbors are outside at the same time during the pre-dawn hours, than they are during daylight. Every morning, as I stand outside in my bathrobe, nightgown, winter coat, gloves, occasionally sweatpants thrown on when it gets below -5, Bearded Man's knee high rubber boots, and my insane hair, I see my neighbors. Almost all of them. And no one talks. Once, I heard the guy who lives behind me, whom I think I have spoken to exactly 3 times ever, I think his name is Kurt, or someone from his household, gasp in shock, as I stood out back under flood lights, in my crazy cat lady outfit, with this psychotic puppy. Otherwise, no one talks. Not sure if it's because it is too early, or if it's because I am terrifying.
I feel like I should apologise every single day, for possibly scaring the neighbors.
Kaila went and saw "Wicked" in Buffalo with the school last weekend. She has sung "Popular" every minute of every day since. Memories of my voice lesson days, and practicing opera, opera in Italian, and show songs on top of my lungs daily for five years, came back to haunt me. Kaila has decided show business is for her, so, sing on, kiddo! In your room.
I could write an entire Blog, on Joe's one liners. Joe continues to be a little too big for his britches. He informed me the other day that he couldn't wait to live on his private island, in a tent surrounded by guards. (After we did our evening "I hate dinner!" "SIT DOWN AND EAT!!!!!" Routine) I asked if I could visit his island sometime. "What part of 'PRIVATE' did you not understand?" he retorted. Yeah, well. The title of this Blog indicates that I am not a perfect parent.....
Honestly, there isn't a whole lot in the way of excitement going on. Bearded Man continues to bake bread. Honestly. It is so amazingly wonderful. Recently, I was crazy busy at work, and I get this text: "Call me. I was in an accident" Which produced strong language from me. The type ladies and non-sailors are not supposed to utter. This being the second accident in less than a year....
The next day, someone at work came into my office and inquired as to the status of the accident, and all involved. I was in the middle of an on-line meeting, and wasn't sure if it was the kind with microphones. But, I said "UGH! I am SO aggravated! He is allergic to apricots. I am THIS CLOSE to hiding apricots in every single one of his meals this weekend! Oh, never mind. I CAN'T. Because he makes BREAD. And it is the best stupid bread ever, and I love it, and it is amazing, and and his baking is what is going to restrain me from buying apricots today."
And then realized I had just pretty much admitted to premeditated homicide in front of almost 300 Federal Employees. And then, with relief, realized that the microphone wasn't on for this meeting. I am not REALLY going to hide apricots in his meals. I am not all the way convinced he is really allergic to them anyway. His mother said he had a reaction to them when he was a toddler. And, there is the bread. I have been craving it all day, at work. It is so good.
In other news, the weather continues to be freezing, and, other than the puppy, who loves it, the rest of us are in the house. All the time. I have been flooding my Pinterest boards with Garden ideas. And trying not to think about the puppy potentially destroying them. I cannot wait until I can throw my kids out the door, and order them to play until dinner time. This weekend, they will be occupying their time cleaning bedrooms. Because it needs to be done, and because it will keep them quiet, as they spend their days in their rooms quietly, hoping that I don't notice they aren't cleaning, while I enjoy the new book I have on my phone's Kindle in peace. Win win!!!
Till next time! Stay warm!
Tuesday, January 14, 2014
Over Tired Mama
Not sure about the rest of you out there, but, when I am over tired, nothing makes sense. With that thought, I am going to attempt to put something here that is somewhat clear and unconfusing.
The other day, I told bearded Man that I think I need to go away for just a night, to get some uninterrupted sleep. You know that point you can get to, where, you are cold from the inside out, with chills, and slightly nauseous, due to lack of sleep? And EVERYTHING is the FUNNIEST thing ever, and you laugh till you cry at the most inappropriate things? I am so there.
Part of this is due to the psychotic puppy, and part of it is due to a sick Ninja. AKA, George. It isn't much more than a mild cold, but, it's enough for him to be whiny, and in my lap at all times when I am at home, and up and down all night fussing off and on. If it isn't the puppy, it's the George. If it's the weekend, and the opportunity to chuck breakfast at the kids and go back to bed presents itself, it only means that one child or other will be hanging in the bedroom doorway or hovering over my bed with some urgent need or other approximately every 2 minutes. So tired. Please tell me I will look back on these days with a smile and be all misty eyed and miss it. Tell me in person, so I can accidentally kick your feet out from under you, and sic the puppy that likes to chew on people with razor like teeth, onto you.
The other day, my little sister dropped off a bag of Christmas gifts from assorted family members. It included a package for Joe, from my youngest brother Malachi, who is also Joe's Godfather. Joe unwrapped it, and thought it was the coolest most perfect gift EVER. I was so tired, that I laughed so hard I cried. It was a 10 hour documentary called "War Machines" in a handy 3 DVD set. My weapons and explosions fanatic thought it was wonderful. "Submarines. The Silent Killer" he read out loud. "Mom! I think we need to start with this one." What my brother was thinking, when he bought that for my 8 year old, I will never ever know. I honestly wondered if maybe he meant it for my Dad, who had accidentally received a Disney movie. Who knows? Joe thinks it's wonderful. He is hoping for a 10 hour marathon to watch it all at once.
I have also found that this special brand of tired has completely removed that brain to mouth filter. The other night, Lexi came downstairs with a Barbie Doll that she had received for Christmas. One of the legs had broken off at about mid calf. Eyes full of tears, she handed the parts to me and I was all "She isn't BROKEN! She's now Amputee Barbie! Lots of people have amputations, and manage to have full and wonderful lives."
Didn't matter. My kid ran back upstairs crying, Kaila was howling with laughter, and Lexi is probably scarred for life. So so tired. When I inevitably go to hell, I don't think it's hot. It's probably full of guilt and no sleep for eternity.
Anyone who does not live in a cozy little cave someplace, is probably aware of the Blizzard that hit Buffalo last week, and the weather that seemed to shut down half the country. We did not get the snow, but, all of Western New York was hit with freezing temperatures and wind chills. (If you live someplace that does not include the words 'Wind Chill' in your regular forecast, I kind of don't like you. I will probably like you again around Springtime. When weather like this, not unlike labor pain, is forgotten.) Anyhow, it was cold last week. The Niagara Falls, and the inside of my kitchen window both froze. Bearded Man baked lots of bread, including a trial run at cinnamon bread, but, it didn't unfreeze the kitchen window. In all seriousness, we were lucky overall. The cold caused a lot of damage everywhere. The quick warm up caused even more damage in the form of flooding.
The crazy weather, on the heels of the holidays, and Christmas Vacation from school, meant that the kids didn't know if they were going to school or not. For almost 3 weeks, there was no routine in the household, which caused cabin fevered kids, and a slightly crazy mom. I don't yell much, so, when I do, it's usually a doozy. Shortly after yelling one morning, (And we all have those times, don't we?) It was of course one of those days when lots of people post things on Facebook about how wonderful their lives were, and how much better their parenting is, and their relationships with their kids are, now that they don't ever yell. Then there was the post from one mother, about how her neighbor called the police and CPS, because they thought something was terribly wrong at her house. Turns out she had been yelling at her kids.
When the inevitable October baby boom happens, post blizzard, it will likely be couples that didn't currently have children.
Honestly, As far as fun chatty stuff - I have nothing. Once again going to point out that I am tired. And, these breaks at work are not nearly long enough to be terribly coherent. Esp when a person is tired. And I kinda really am. Tired. Not coherent. At all. Anyhow, next time will probably be better.
The other day, I told bearded Man that I think I need to go away for just a night, to get some uninterrupted sleep. You know that point you can get to, where, you are cold from the inside out, with chills, and slightly nauseous, due to lack of sleep? And EVERYTHING is the FUNNIEST thing ever, and you laugh till you cry at the most inappropriate things? I am so there.
Part of this is due to the psychotic puppy, and part of it is due to a sick Ninja. AKA, George. It isn't much more than a mild cold, but, it's enough for him to be whiny, and in my lap at all times when I am at home, and up and down all night fussing off and on. If it isn't the puppy, it's the George. If it's the weekend, and the opportunity to chuck breakfast at the kids and go back to bed presents itself, it only means that one child or other will be hanging in the bedroom doorway or hovering over my bed with some urgent need or other approximately every 2 minutes. So tired. Please tell me I will look back on these days with a smile and be all misty eyed and miss it. Tell me in person, so I can accidentally kick your feet out from under you, and sic the puppy that likes to chew on people with razor like teeth, onto you.
The other day, my little sister dropped off a bag of Christmas gifts from assorted family members. It included a package for Joe, from my youngest brother Malachi, who is also Joe's Godfather. Joe unwrapped it, and thought it was the coolest most perfect gift EVER. I was so tired, that I laughed so hard I cried. It was a 10 hour documentary called "War Machines" in a handy 3 DVD set. My weapons and explosions fanatic thought it was wonderful. "Submarines. The Silent Killer" he read out loud. "Mom! I think we need to start with this one." What my brother was thinking, when he bought that for my 8 year old, I will never ever know. I honestly wondered if maybe he meant it for my Dad, who had accidentally received a Disney movie. Who knows? Joe thinks it's wonderful. He is hoping for a 10 hour marathon to watch it all at once.
I have also found that this special brand of tired has completely removed that brain to mouth filter. The other night, Lexi came downstairs with a Barbie Doll that she had received for Christmas. One of the legs had broken off at about mid calf. Eyes full of tears, she handed the parts to me and I was all "She isn't BROKEN! She's now Amputee Barbie! Lots of people have amputations, and manage to have full and wonderful lives."
Didn't matter. My kid ran back upstairs crying, Kaila was howling with laughter, and Lexi is probably scarred for life. So so tired. When I inevitably go to hell, I don't think it's hot. It's probably full of guilt and no sleep for eternity.
Anyone who does not live in a cozy little cave someplace, is probably aware of the Blizzard that hit Buffalo last week, and the weather that seemed to shut down half the country. We did not get the snow, but, all of Western New York was hit with freezing temperatures and wind chills. (If you live someplace that does not include the words 'Wind Chill' in your regular forecast, I kind of don't like you. I will probably like you again around Springtime. When weather like this, not unlike labor pain, is forgotten.) Anyhow, it was cold last week. The Niagara Falls, and the inside of my kitchen window both froze. Bearded Man baked lots of bread, including a trial run at cinnamon bread, but, it didn't unfreeze the kitchen window. In all seriousness, we were lucky overall. The cold caused a lot of damage everywhere. The quick warm up caused even more damage in the form of flooding.
The crazy weather, on the heels of the holidays, and Christmas Vacation from school, meant that the kids didn't know if they were going to school or not. For almost 3 weeks, there was no routine in the household, which caused cabin fevered kids, and a slightly crazy mom. I don't yell much, so, when I do, it's usually a doozy. Shortly after yelling one morning, (And we all have those times, don't we?) It was of course one of those days when lots of people post things on Facebook about how wonderful their lives were, and how much better their parenting is, and their relationships with their kids are, now that they don't ever yell. Then there was the post from one mother, about how her neighbor called the police and CPS, because they thought something was terribly wrong at her house. Turns out she had been yelling at her kids.
When the inevitable October baby boom happens, post blizzard, it will likely be couples that didn't currently have children.
Honestly, As far as fun chatty stuff - I have nothing. Once again going to point out that I am tired. And, these breaks at work are not nearly long enough to be terribly coherent. Esp when a person is tired. And I kinda really am. Tired. Not coherent. At all. Anyhow, next time will probably be better.
Friday, January 3, 2014
Snowed in with 4 Kids and a Puppy
If I am remembered for anything after I die, I want it to be for giving the advice to never ever acquire a dog during winter. Especially a dog that needs to be house trained. Because, chances are, doggie is going to need to be taken outside into the frozen tundra approximately every 4 minutes round the clock. Further more, half of that frozen tundra will be tracked through your house.
After my vacation at the beginning of December, I managed to keep the house looking amazing right up until Christmas morning. Even then, that was okay, because, EVERY ONE'S house looked like mine did on Christmas morning. And, if you have kids and your house looked amazing Christmas morning, seriously, there is something wrong with you. Relax, for Heaven's sake!
The Saturday after Christmas, I spent the day taking all the Christmas trimmings and trappings down. The tree was completely dead, and it all needed to be done, anyway. The house was starting to look great again, and I figured I would do all those fun little odds and ends, such as laundry, on Sunday. Sunday, however, I woke up to the the message that we could go get Turbo.
Now, it's sort of like having a newborn vampire in the house, because I am up constantly with the doggie, and he pretty much just wants to chew on people. I am hoping this is a phase we grow out of relatively soon. Sadly, I would almost rather see him chew on the kids who heal fairly quickly, than my furniture, which will not....
Flashlight, the cat, is still completely enraged over this puppy. She sits and glares at him, clearly conveying that eventually his novelty will wear off, and he will be alone. And that she will probably cast evil spells on him, and eat him for dinner. We've pointed out to her repeatedly that, according to most web sites, Huskies like to eat kitties, but, she seems pretty sure she can take him. It's kinda creepy, how she lurks in dark places, just sitting there glaring at him.
Yesterday, the weather, which seems to have gotten progressively worse all week, really was awful. The entire State was under a State of Emergency, and pretty much everything was closed. If it wasn't closed, it was at a standstill due to accidents everywhere. I left work early, so I could pick my kids up from their respective schools and the babysitter.
After 45 minutes of picking everyone up and getting them into the house, I was begged to let them go outside and play. I am going to go all bad Mom here, and confess. I told them "No." Because it was too cold and windy, and I had just taken 3 hours of personal leave at work, to haul them all home so they weren't in the bad weather, and, just, No. Also, because I had a pounding headache, and seriously was not up to the half an hour required to assist with getting them all dressed to go out, only to have them trudge back in and through the house with snow covered wet clothes 3 minutes and 42 seconds later. I just wasn't up to it.
AND, I told them they could play on all their gadgets, if they would let me and my headache lie on the family room couch for an hour. This on the heels of New Years Day, in which all TV, ipads and Kindles were forbidden for the day. We can't be awesome all the time. Now, after having confessed that, my mind is drawn immediately to all the perfect Moms I know who would never do any such things.
Want to know a secret? I privately hope that all those moms out there that seem so very very perfect ALL. THE. TIME have SOMETHING wrong. Not something terrible, just something that would make me feel better. Like, Vodka for breakfast, or bodies in the basement or something. Nothing big. It would just make us not so perfect Mama's feel a little better about our slip ups. Ah well.
Also, since I am here, I may as well mention that I am off the hook for training for the Mudderella. Unfortunately it is being held elsewhere now. Which was great, because I was all mentally committed to it, and not physically ready for it.
I was slightly relieved about this, because, I really am not ready. However, my friend and carpool buddy - you know, the ex drill Sergent? - has convinced me we need to train for a run in April. Sort of a precursor to a mud run in Buffalo in September. I suppose it's a good thing the school gym opens back up next week. And, that I have a puppy that will be needing a good run every day... what better training buddy than a former Army drill Sergent?? If I survive, I will keep you updated to that project.
That's about it. Headed into the weekend. I received a call today that my children need to be present at church tomorrow to practice a play for Sunday. I am sure they will be delighted with the news, when I break it to them later. Heathens.
Till next time!!
After my vacation at the beginning of December, I managed to keep the house looking amazing right up until Christmas morning. Even then, that was okay, because, EVERY ONE'S house looked like mine did on Christmas morning. And, if you have kids and your house looked amazing Christmas morning, seriously, there is something wrong with you. Relax, for Heaven's sake!
The Saturday after Christmas, I spent the day taking all the Christmas trimmings and trappings down. The tree was completely dead, and it all needed to be done, anyway. The house was starting to look great again, and I figured I would do all those fun little odds and ends, such as laundry, on Sunday. Sunday, however, I woke up to the the message that we could go get Turbo.
Now, it's sort of like having a newborn vampire in the house, because I am up constantly with the doggie, and he pretty much just wants to chew on people. I am hoping this is a phase we grow out of relatively soon. Sadly, I would almost rather see him chew on the kids who heal fairly quickly, than my furniture, which will not....
Flashlight, the cat, is still completely enraged over this puppy. She sits and glares at him, clearly conveying that eventually his novelty will wear off, and he will be alone. And that she will probably cast evil spells on him, and eat him for dinner. We've pointed out to her repeatedly that, according to most web sites, Huskies like to eat kitties, but, she seems pretty sure she can take him. It's kinda creepy, how she lurks in dark places, just sitting there glaring at him.
Yesterday, the weather, which seems to have gotten progressively worse all week, really was awful. The entire State was under a State of Emergency, and pretty much everything was closed. If it wasn't closed, it was at a standstill due to accidents everywhere. I left work early, so I could pick my kids up from their respective schools and the babysitter.
After 45 minutes of picking everyone up and getting them into the house, I was begged to let them go outside and play. I am going to go all bad Mom here, and confess. I told them "No." Because it was too cold and windy, and I had just taken 3 hours of personal leave at work, to haul them all home so they weren't in the bad weather, and, just, No. Also, because I had a pounding headache, and seriously was not up to the half an hour required to assist with getting them all dressed to go out, only to have them trudge back in and through the house with snow covered wet clothes 3 minutes and 42 seconds later. I just wasn't up to it.
AND, I told them they could play on all their gadgets, if they would let me and my headache lie on the family room couch for an hour. This on the heels of New Years Day, in which all TV, ipads and Kindles were forbidden for the day. We can't be awesome all the time. Now, after having confessed that, my mind is drawn immediately to all the perfect Moms I know who would never do any such things.
Want to know a secret? I privately hope that all those moms out there that seem so very very perfect ALL. THE. TIME have SOMETHING wrong. Not something terrible, just something that would make me feel better. Like, Vodka for breakfast, or bodies in the basement or something. Nothing big. It would just make us not so perfect Mama's feel a little better about our slip ups. Ah well.
Also, since I am here, I may as well mention that I am off the hook for training for the Mudderella. Unfortunately it is being held elsewhere now. Which was great, because I was all mentally committed to it, and not physically ready for it.
I was slightly relieved about this, because, I really am not ready. However, my friend and carpool buddy - you know, the ex drill Sergent? - has convinced me we need to train for a run in April. Sort of a precursor to a mud run in Buffalo in September. I suppose it's a good thing the school gym opens back up next week. And, that I have a puppy that will be needing a good run every day... what better training buddy than a former Army drill Sergent?? If I survive, I will keep you updated to that project.
That's about it. Headed into the weekend. I received a call today that my children need to be present at church tomorrow to practice a play for Sunday. I am sure they will be delighted with the news, when I break it to them later. Heathens.
Till next time!!
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