Some hate their birthdays. I love mine. I love it so much, I stretch it out as long as I can. It's my birthday week. No wait, it's my birthday month. It's a month of using my birthday as an excuse to do anything I want and not feel guilt. "It's my birthday, I'm gonna sit at home and read all day." "It's my birthday, I'm not cooking and we're going out to eat." Jeremy says we go out to eat a lot during my "birthday." Hmm.
December is not my birthday month, but it is Joshua's, and since I've set the example, we've started the celebrations early. Last night we took him out to eat, where ever he wanted. He wanted to go to Friendlies. The kids always want to go to Friendlies. It's not a bad place, just gets a little old after awhile.
After we ate, we walked to the front register to pay our bill. There was a huge "Crane" game in the front filled with medium sized stuffed crap. Ok, some of the animals were kinda, sorta cute, but mostly it was crap. Joshua begged, "Please, can I play the crane. Please, Please?"
Normally I say no. "Well, ok, it's you're birthday and it's only 50 cents. You only get one shot though."
"YESSSSSSS!!!!!" Josh shouted. He studiously planned his strategy, talking it through with Ruthie. That one is too buried. This one is sticking out, but nothing good to grab onto. That one might be easy, but I don't really like it. Finally they settled on the monkey with the santa hat, after Jeremy said, "Just put the coins in already, and play." It was snowing outside, and he was feeling twitchy about driving home. It had just started collecting on the roads and he wanted to avoid the idiots who continue to drive at normal speeds despite the fact that the roads are not quite plowed and salted.
Joshua inserted the coins. He carefully and meticulously directed the Claw towards Santa Monkey. He hit the button and the Claw grabbed onto the monkey and picked it up. Holding our collective breaths, we watched the monkey drag across the other stuffed crap. The Claw dropped the monkey into the bin, and the kids cheered.
"I was sure that it would drop it when I saw it dragging over the other toys," Jeremy said.
"Yeah, me too," I replied.
The excitement in the car was almost uncontainable. The kids chattered about what Joshua would name the monkey. Jeremy leaned over to me and said, "Spank."
Joshua said, "Yeah, Spank would be a good name for the monkey."
"Uh, no. You cannot name the monkey Spank." I glared at Jeremy who was silently laughing so hard he was shaking.
"Why?" asked Ruthie.
"Because. I. said. so." I glared even harder at Jeremy who was now wiping tears from his eyes.
"Yeah," he added trying to sound like he wasn't still laughing at his own wit. "Spank wouldn't be a good name for the monkey."
Subject matter dropped, the kids settled on the name "Zub." We returned home. The Boy opened his birthday present, Mario Kart for the Wii, and proceeded to talk about his good fortune over Zub the Monkey, declaring this to be "The Best Birthday Ever."
This morning, the kids were still feverishly chatting over The Crane.
"I still can't believe I won," Joshua said.
"I know!" Ruthie added.
Hannah in her six-year-old wisdom said, "That's because, Josh, you were One With The Crane. You became The Crane."
Showing posts with label family. Show all posts
Showing posts with label family. Show all posts
Sunday, December 07, 2008
Thursday, July 24, 2008
Cape May Adventure
When our Tennessee trip canceled last minute we decided to camp in Cape May, NJ for a few nights. It was quite the adventure. I'm a terrible photographer. I have a few campsite pictures (four to be exact) and a bunch from our second day at the beach. I missed taking shots of mini-golf when The Boy beat Dad by one point. I also didn't get any pictures of the kids charming the Quebec family that camped next to us. However, I did make a slide-show of day two at the beach, which promptly both Josh and Ruth pointed out that Hannah is more prevalent throughout the slide show. I, in turn, pointed out, that A) Ruth dominates the first third of the movie, B) The Boy dominates the middle, and C) Hannah is at the end D) Hannah happened to play near my chair and E) I'm lazy and it was easy to pick up the camera and just shoot pictures. (Really, E is not the reason, but hopefully I was as fair as I could be in taking equal amounts of shots). The video did not capture the wildness of the riptides that caused the beach to close early that day...nor the two accidents that sent ambulances screaming onto the scene. It also doesn't show the shark alert, nor the dolphins that followed the tour boats, as if on cue. But it does show a lot of pictures of my kids playing in the waves, or in the sand. Hannah lost in thought, Ruthie after she wiped out and really hurt her nose (it still hurts, if you're wondering). She really didn't want me to take a picture of her crying, hence the towel over her face pic. So, if you have 6 minutes and 50 seconds to fritter away, here's our vacation pictures:
Monday, July 07, 2008
The Fort
Power tools. Yes, power tools and a hatchet make a mean fort. This is what I learned from my vacation this week. I guess when I was growing up, the boys in my neighborhood weren't allowed access to power tools, so I really had no idea how three guys on the precipice of manhood could create such a monsterpiece with a circular saw and three small hatchets. The circular saw being an indulgence on the part of their, ahem, grandfather, a.k.a. "Pop."
"Are you sure they should be using that?" I asked over the distinct whine of the saw.
"Yeah, they'll be fine," my father said without looking up from his magazine.
"Shouldn't they wear safety goggles or something?"
He looked up over the deck railing, "Hey guys, put on some safety goggles."
Gee thanks Dad.
That's the problem with grandparents. You can override them, but not always easily. And since no one had lost any fingers, and since the older "boys" were living vicariously through their sons, my husband and brother-in-law were agreeable to the power tools as well. I was easily outnumbered. Six to one, as a matter of fact. So with all the grace and dignity one fretting mother can have, I removed myself and pretended the saw whine was coming from the neighbor's house.
Ignoring the hatchets was another problem. Really the whole mosterpiece started with the hatchets my father bought The Boy and his cousins, S3 and Ty. They've been using them for a few months now, whenever we went to the "mountains." And they're becoming more efficient and brazen with these hatchets too. Who knew three boys could fell a twenty foot tree with a twenty inch diameter with three rather small hatchets? Apparently, with enough dogged-determination, they could. And not just one tree, but at least two, I saw, went down for the count. I had wild visions of small squirming bodies stuck under large fallen trees.
"I promise you they were dead," Joshua pronounced after seeing my horror stricken face. "Pop says we can only chop down the dead trees."
"Well, that's a mighty big dead tree." said I, master of the obvious.
"I swear. It was dead. Really it was. It only had like, two branches on it, and no leaves. I swear," he said.
Josh never got that it wasn't the alive/dead factor as much as it was I wanted to shriek, "THAT FREAKIN' TREE IS FIVE HUNDRED TIMES TALLER THAN YOU!??? ARE YOU OUT OF YOUR EVER LOVIN' MIND?" Thankfully, I was the epitome of control and self-restraint. I merely sighed and walked back into the house. I figured my mother and sister had the right of things, and promptly buried my nose in a book, transporting myself away into other worlds. What I didn't know, I couldn't worry about right?
They hammered, and they sawed, and they chopped. We saw them for meals, when we demanded they stop and eat. We begged them to bathe. They passed out in their tent after a long, productive, day in the woods. They grunted to us when they passed through the house, most likely en route to find Pop for another power tool.
"You want something to eat?"
"Ungh"
"How's the fort?"
"Mmm"
"Good, great talking to you. See ya around."
"Huh?"
A couple of years ago, the boys built a platform between three trees, slats of wood hammered into a tree to act as a ladder. The main beam/tree began at the platform and angled down to the ground, the whole humongous length of the tree. I'm still marveling how they managed to drag the tree, and prop it up. Angled on either side of the beam, the boys placed smaller logs and boards to form the walls, almost tent shape. Add a make-shift door, and some leaves for camouflage and, viola, a fort to rival the forts of their predecessors.
So, now we're home, and the fort stands lonely, slightly incomplete (but really, is a fort ever finished? This is at least its fifth incarnation), and waiting for the return of the boys. I actually saw my son today, the first in about a week. He looks good. He's actually clean. And, despite the circular saw, he still has all of his fingers. What more could a mom want?
"Are you sure they should be using that?" I asked over the distinct whine of the saw.
"Yeah, they'll be fine," my father said without looking up from his magazine.
"Shouldn't they wear safety goggles or something?"
He looked up over the deck railing, "Hey guys, put on some safety goggles."
Gee thanks Dad.
That's the problem with grandparents. You can override them, but not always easily. And since no one had lost any fingers, and since the older "boys" were living vicariously through their sons, my husband and brother-in-law were agreeable to the power tools as well. I was easily outnumbered. Six to one, as a matter of fact. So with all the grace and dignity one fretting mother can have, I removed myself and pretended the saw whine was coming from the neighbor's house.
Ignoring the hatchets was another problem. Really the whole mosterpiece started with the hatchets my father bought The Boy and his cousins, S3 and Ty. They've been using them for a few months now, whenever we went to the "mountains." And they're becoming more efficient and brazen with these hatchets too. Who knew three boys could fell a twenty foot tree with a twenty inch diameter with three rather small hatchets? Apparently, with enough dogged-determination, they could. And not just one tree, but at least two, I saw, went down for the count. I had wild visions of small squirming bodies stuck under large fallen trees.
"I promise you they were dead," Joshua pronounced after seeing my horror stricken face. "Pop says we can only chop down the dead trees."
"Well, that's a mighty big dead tree." said I, master of the obvious.
"I swear. It was dead. Really it was. It only had like, two branches on it, and no leaves. I swear," he said.
Josh never got that it wasn't the alive/dead factor as much as it was I wanted to shriek, "THAT FREAKIN' TREE IS FIVE HUNDRED TIMES TALLER THAN YOU!??? ARE YOU OUT OF YOUR EVER LOVIN' MIND?" Thankfully, I was the epitome of control and self-restraint. I merely sighed and walked back into the house. I figured my mother and sister had the right of things, and promptly buried my nose in a book, transporting myself away into other worlds. What I didn't know, I couldn't worry about right?
They hammered, and they sawed, and they chopped. We saw them for meals, when we demanded they stop and eat. We begged them to bathe. They passed out in their tent after a long, productive, day in the woods. They grunted to us when they passed through the house, most likely en route to find Pop for another power tool.
"You want something to eat?"
"Ungh"
"How's the fort?"
"Mmm"
"Good, great talking to you. See ya around."
"Huh?"
A couple of years ago, the boys built a platform between three trees, slats of wood hammered into a tree to act as a ladder. The main beam/tree began at the platform and angled down to the ground, the whole humongous length of the tree. I'm still marveling how they managed to drag the tree, and prop it up. Angled on either side of the beam, the boys placed smaller logs and boards to form the walls, almost tent shape. Add a make-shift door, and some leaves for camouflage and, viola, a fort to rival the forts of their predecessors.
So, now we're home, and the fort stands lonely, slightly incomplete (but really, is a fort ever finished? This is at least its fifth incarnation), and waiting for the return of the boys. I actually saw my son today, the first in about a week. He looks good. He's actually clean. And, despite the circular saw, he still has all of his fingers. What more could a mom want?
Thursday, October 04, 2007
Morning Insanity
We started giving ourselves about an hour to get ready...but then it became an hour and a half, and now it is up to two hours. The alarm goes off between 5:00 and 5:30...5:30, if we need to "sleep in." Jeremy gets the kids up around 6:00. I climb out of bed after he's done in the bathroom, and start my routine. I put my make-up on then, or else it won't happen...because as soon they get up, the insanity begins.
"Hannah, why aren't you dressed still?" She is sitting in the middle of her floor in her underpants, with socks on.
"I dont know."
"Ruth! I thought you picked your outfit out last night!"
"I did."
"You look like a hooker. No, you cannot wear that skirt anymore, it's too short. And take those long boots off. It's going to be 90 degrees outside!"
"Can I wear eye shadow?"
"No."
"Can I keep this shirt on?" She asks pointing to her sequenced and be-jeweled t-shirt.
"Yes, find different bottoms."
Now Ruth is wandering around half-naked. Joshua, grouchy and half awake, pounds on the bathroom door.
"Haaaannaaaahh! Com'mon! What are you doing!?!? I gotta PEE!"
"Use the downstairs bathroom in the basement," I tell him.
"No. I hate that bathroom." The toilet flushes.
"AAAAAARGH! I yell.
"Sorry Mama, I forgot you were in the shower." Hannah says. I poke my head out of the curtain to see she's still only in her underpants.
"GET DRESSED!" I command. Hannah scurries off. Jer comes in and turns the water on. There goes the rest of my shower. He starts to comb his hair while running the water to brush his teeth.
"HAAAAAAAAANNNNNAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAHHHHHH!!!!!!!!!!!!" Ruthie screeches. She pulls open the sliding door, runs into the bathroom with her shirt on, one boot, wild bed hair. "Hannah won't put my other boot dooooooooowwwwwwwwwwwnnn!" She whines. So much for privacy. I have a towel wrapped around my body, one wrapped around my hair, and I am standing there in front of the toilet dripping, waiting for Jeremy to get out of the way so I can make my way to the bedroom to get dressed. Our bathroom is so small, one person has to exit the bathroom to let someone in or out of the bathroom.
"I'm gonna put your boot down on your butt if you dont get a move on," Jeremy says while shaving.
In the meantime, Joshua is dancing in the hallway holding himself. "I've gotta PEE!"
"Use the downstairs bathroom," Jer says calmly.
"But I..."
"Then come in here while I'm shaving."
Joshua doesn't like this option either, but apparently it's better than the downstairs bathroom .
Pushing Hannah, who is still wandering aimless in her panties in the narrow hallway to one side, he shoves Ruth to the other, who has now found pants, leaping over his father who is brushing his hair at the sink. Jeremy calmly shuts the bathroom sliding door as if nothing out of the ordinary. Feeling relieved, Joshua exits the bathroom, stumbles groggily across the hall and pulls his shirt and shorts on. He finds his shoes, and socks, and makes his way downstairs for breakfast. I wander back down the third floor steps from our bedroom to have my turn at the bathroom.
I start doing my hair and putting my make-up on. From downstairs I can hear the calm before the storm.
"Joshua!!! JOSH!!! JOSH!!! JOOOOOOOSSSHHHH!!!! DAAAAADDDDDDY! Joshua won't get me a bowl!!!!" Hannah whines.
"BUT Hannah's NOT even DRESSED!" Josh protests.
"Are you the father?" Jeremy asks.
"No."
"Then get your sister a bowl." Jeremy calls up to me, "Hey, I'm leaving."
"Wait!" I holler back. I come down the stairs with half my make-up on and give him a kiss good-bye.
In the background, I hear the girls fighting. "I was going to eat that! Ruthie, you can't eat the last of the cereal!" "I had it first!" "No I did" "NO I DID!"
I give the Jeremy. a look that says "Please, please don't leave me." He kisses my forehead and walks out the door. Settling the argument between the girls by giving them a lesser favorite cereal and taking away the prized one, I notice Hannah is still undressed.
"HANNAH! Where are your clothes!???"
"I dont know." She says shoving a spoonful of cereal into her mouth.
I run to the basement where I was doing laundry the day before to look for an outfit. The spoiled brat won. She manipulated me into dressing her, I think to myself. I run back upstairs, look at the clock, realize it is almost 8. The kids have to leave at 8:25. Quickly, I throw Hannah's clothes on while she eats her cereal. "MOVE IT!" I tell the kids. Hannah and Joshua finish their bowls of cereal. Ruthie is still piddling around with her spoon. "You're done," I command as I take her nearly full bowl from her. She is still sulking from my all-powerful, yet unfair, verdict in the Hannah V. Ruthie Cereal decision. Ruth begins to cry.
"But I'm hungry," she pouts.
"Then you should have thought about that and eaten your breakfast when it you had the time. Now there is no time. Brush your hair, brush your teeth. Com'mon now. We're going to be late." Fighting ensues upstairs in the bathroom.
Hannah whines like a bad broken record, "But I need to brush my teeth tooooooo. I need space toooooo. I need to brush my teeth. I need to brush my teeth. I need to brush my teeth. Joshua, I need to brush my teeth!"
"I know!" Josh replies with a mouth full of foam. "I'm getting there."
"But I need to brush my teeth."
"I KNOW!"
"But I need to brush my teeth."
"HANNAH! I KNOOOOOOOW! Stop SAYING that!"
"But I need..."
"Ok Hannah that's IS enough. You'll get your turn. Come here, let me do your hair." I look in the mirror and realize my make-up is only half-done. Crap. I almost went out the door looking that way! Bounding down the stairs like an elephant, Joshua heads for the living room. I call after him, "Pack up your book bag, get your lunch out, shoes and socks"
"I know. I know." He retorts. "I HAVE my shoes and socks on."
"Don't you dare get smart with me." After that remark, Josh nearly saw death, had it not been for the fact I was combing a rat's nest out of Hannah's hair.
"I'm sorry," he quickly repents hearing my displeasure in my voice.
"OW! OW! OW! OW!" Hannah cries over the din. Ruth begins to brush her teeth carefully polishing one tooth at a time.
"A little faster there, please Ruthie," I dictate. I hear Kung-Fu going on in my living room. "WOOOOOOSH! PKSHHHHHHHH! HAAaaaaaaaa-WA!!!"
"JOOOOSH?" I ask in a sing-song voice.
"Yes?" comes the meek and feeble voice.
"Are you all done?"
"No," he confesses.
"What time is it?" I call down the stairs. Now I'm brushing Ruth's hair and Hannah is brushing her teeth. Gotta remember to finish my make-up.
"Now I'm done! OH! And it's 8:15!" Joshua calls up. Hannah finishes brushing her teeth and I send her down the stairs.
"Then help Hannah find her shoes and socks."
"Shoes and Socks. Shoooooes and Socks," Joshua chants to himself as he wanders, running, literally, aimlessly looking into space, pretending to look for them. "Hannah, where'd you take them off?"
"I don't know." She says and then calls up to me, "Mama? Why can't I wear sandals?"
"Because of recess. You can't run and play well in sandals. And I never know when you're going to have Gym." I call downstairs as I finish Ruth's hair. "Now what time is it, Josh?"
"8:20" He hollars. Now we're all running around. I quickly slap on the rest of my make-up. And race down the stairs. Ruth looks lost, and she is also shoeless. I find the girls shoes. Joshua puts Hannah's shoes on. "Get your lunches in your backpacks, now." I command to Ruth and Hannah. Hannah produces her lunch.
"I forgot to make mine last night," Ruthie says all forlorn.
"Oh for goodness sake," I say, because it is the Rated-G version of what I want to say. "Grab your lunch box." From the cabinet I snag two pieces of bread, and faster than the eye can see, and slap some Jiffy Hannah butter on it. Ruth frantically shoves corn chips into a baggy and grabs an apple and a bottle of water. Suddenly I take notice of the table. "OH FOR CRYIN' OUT LOUD!" I whine in my disgust. Three bowls of left-over cereal millk and their left over cereal flotsam and jetsam are still sitting on the table, along with the gallon of milk, and all the boxes of cereal. Crumbs are everywhere. Soggy cereal is already beginning to do its magical ahere-to-the-table-like-super-glue trick. "Josh, quick. Put the bowls in the sink. I'll get it when I get home from work. Milk away. Cereal away. Quickly! Quickly! Ok...now, everyone have everything? Bookbags? Lunches? Homework?" Three heads nod at me. "Great, get in the car." They tumble out the door tripping over each other, shoving and fighting the whole way onto the porch. I shut the door behind me, and command again, "What does get in the car mean? GET IN THE CAR!" Hustling down the cement steps, Hannah trips and scrapes her leg.
"It's BLEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEDDDINGGG!" she wails
"Joshua, Ruth, Get. in. the. car. Take her backpack. Hannah. Quick. Come with me." I open the door, run inside, she is still wailing about the blood and slap a bandaid on her knee. "Better?"
"No." She whines. Dang, not sufficient enough time to give her the royal Mommy-Boo-Boo treatment. Instead I opt for drill sargeant Mom, "Well, tough it out, we don't have time. You'll be fine." I feel like a heel. Picking Hannah up, I kiss her forehead to make up for my insensitivity to her obvious trauma and pain. I carry her down to the car which Josh and Ruth are STILL not in. They are looking at ants on the sidewalk. No words can express the stress I am now feeling, as the time is now well past 8:25 and the threat of missing the late bell is looming. The kids pile into the van. I tear off while they start buckling their belts. Having dropped off the older kids at the Elementary center, I make my way through the insane traffic to the Primary Center, a mere two blocks away. People and cars are everywhere because there is a very loose system for kid-drop off. And what exists, is often not followed by the many crazy parents out there. Finding a spot to pull in, I walk Hannah across the street, feeling a bit like Frogger, to her school. I kiss her good-bye, and risk my life to cross the street again to get back to my car. Putting my radio on, I head off to work. About half way there, I hear my phone and let it go to voice mail. Sigh. Someone forgot their lunch or homework. I think to myself.
And that is pretty much what every morning in our home looks like.
Friday, July 06, 2007
Sibling Rivalry
As I said in a previous post, the small un-submissive heathens in this house have been trying to stage a mutiny. However, there is major dissent amongst the ranks. The arguing has got to stop. Who knew kissing could be such a horrific punishment?
I didn't intend for it to be a punishment, really, though I always figure the punishment should fit the crime. I just thought I'd force some affection between the sibling trio as a response to their continuous quarrelling. I warned them, "If I hear anyone arguing with each other, I will make you kiss each other on the cheek, because I know deep down in your hearts, you really and truly LOVE each other." Joshua made a face of disgust.
Yesterday, during quarrel number 4,793 at The Crazy Bunny Lady's (CBL) House I stopped them mid-sentence and said, "Kiss each other."
"Right now?"
"Yes. I don't want to hear another word. Kiss each other on the cheek."
Ruth looked at me and started to well up with tears. Joshua made a face of disgust as if he were involved in a haggis eating contest.
"I...I...I...don't wanna..." Ruth began.
Joshua, sensing my rising ire, quickly leaned over and pecked her on the cheek. I gave Ruth the look which said, "Now it's your turn." With great big tears and a large amount of reluctance, she pecked her brother quickly on his cheek while he cringed, eyes closed tightly. Then, as if a dog had just licked him up and down his face, Joshua started to groan and wipe his hands all over his cheeks and mouth, "UGH. That's awful. Ugh! Oh man! UGH!" Ruth wiped her cheek and mouth and pouted. CBL tried hard not to laugh, which made me have to fight back laughter too. It did put the argument to a screaming halt making both CBL and I realize it was quite an effective argument remmedy, at least that once.
So this afternoon, I sent the kids upstairs to tidy up their rooms before heading out to the pool when I heard the rumblings of yet another disagreement. "Do you two need to give each other another kiss?" I hollered up the stairs. Almost in unison, they replied emphatically, "NO!" I think it was the first and only thing they've agreed upon all summer.
I didn't intend for it to be a punishment, really, though I always figure the punishment should fit the crime. I just thought I'd force some affection between the sibling trio as a response to their continuous quarrelling. I warned them, "If I hear anyone arguing with each other, I will make you kiss each other on the cheek, because I know deep down in your hearts, you really and truly LOVE each other." Joshua made a face of disgust.
Yesterday, during quarrel number 4,793 at The Crazy Bunny Lady's (CBL) House I stopped them mid-sentence and said, "Kiss each other."
"Right now?"
"Yes. I don't want to hear another word. Kiss each other on the cheek."
Ruth looked at me and started to well up with tears. Joshua made a face of disgust as if he were involved in a haggis eating contest.
"I...I...I...don't wanna..." Ruth began.
Joshua, sensing my rising ire, quickly leaned over and pecked her on the cheek. I gave Ruth the look which said, "Now it's your turn." With great big tears and a large amount of reluctance, she pecked her brother quickly on his cheek while he cringed, eyes closed tightly. Then, as if a dog had just licked him up and down his face, Joshua started to groan and wipe his hands all over his cheeks and mouth, "UGH. That's awful. Ugh! Oh man! UGH!" Ruth wiped her cheek and mouth and pouted. CBL tried hard not to laugh, which made me have to fight back laughter too. It did put the argument to a screaming halt making both CBL and I realize it was quite an effective argument remmedy, at least that once.
So this afternoon, I sent the kids upstairs to tidy up their rooms before heading out to the pool when I heard the rumblings of yet another disagreement. "Do you two need to give each other another kiss?" I hollered up the stairs. Almost in unison, they replied emphatically, "NO!" I think it was the first and only thing they've agreed upon all summer.
Tuesday, June 26, 2007
Lazy summer
I took the summer off to recover, and I think I'm getting a little overboard. It is 11:26 in the morning. I still havent showered, nor put in my contact (I'm typing this blind) nor combed my hair, and I'm still in my Pajamas. Yeah, this is living.
The kids normally do swim team. I put my foot down on that. It was a hard decision, but it has been good to sleep in. Actually, it's been great to have kids that can get up, feed themselves, and behave while I catch a few extra million Z's that I seemed to have been missing since the birth of my first born ten years ago. No one ever tells you that your sleep habits will never ever ever be the same. Any little noise, I'm awake. I always was a light sleeper, but after having kids, it's almost rediculous how alert I am, even in my sleep. That being said, going back to college was just a double whammy. So, I started out this month, when the kids got out of school, just sleeping it away. Now I'm finally up and about more, but I'm still just laying low, going to the pool, that sort of stuff...keeping the house clean. Which reminds me...I have some major dishes to do.
The kids normally do swim team. I put my foot down on that. It was a hard decision, but it has been good to sleep in. Actually, it's been great to have kids that can get up, feed themselves, and behave while I catch a few extra million Z's that I seemed to have been missing since the birth of my first born ten years ago. No one ever tells you that your sleep habits will never ever ever be the same. Any little noise, I'm awake. I always was a light sleeper, but after having kids, it's almost rediculous how alert I am, even in my sleep. That being said, going back to college was just a double whammy. So, I started out this month, when the kids got out of school, just sleeping it away. Now I'm finally up and about more, but I'm still just laying low, going to the pool, that sort of stuff...keeping the house clean. Which reminds me...I have some major dishes to do.
Thursday, March 22, 2007
They're coming to take me away ha ha!
Day 13 of quarentine.
It's been a long time since I've seen daylight or had a good night of sound sleeping. Child number two returned to school today. It was the first day in many that I didnt have all of them home with me coughing, sneezing, crying because the fever made their heads hurt. I've decided to change my name. I will no longer be "Mama" but I am unsure of what would suit as a replacement. "Fred" came to mind, but being monosyllabic, I realize that this too can be repeated over and over rather easily to the point of annoyance. Something more like "floccinaucinihilipilification" might be harder to say, and therefore difficult to repeat over and over and over and over again. Child number one remained at home with a low grade fever, which was just enough to make him feel restless and antsy. At the moment I continue to plot my getaway, however between nodding off and fits of delirium and hallucination produced by sleeplessness, I'm unsure if I'm coming or going. This makes escape much more difficult. Until tomorrow.
It's been a long time since I've seen daylight or had a good night of sound sleeping. Child number two returned to school today. It was the first day in many that I didnt have all of them home with me coughing, sneezing, crying because the fever made their heads hurt. I've decided to change my name. I will no longer be "Mama" but I am unsure of what would suit as a replacement. "Fred" came to mind, but being monosyllabic, I realize that this too can be repeated over and over rather easily to the point of annoyance. Something more like "floccinaucinihilipilification" might be harder to say, and therefore difficult to repeat over and over and over and over again. Child number one remained at home with a low grade fever, which was just enough to make him feel restless and antsy. At the moment I continue to plot my getaway, however between nodding off and fits of delirium and hallucination produced by sleeplessness, I'm unsure if I'm coming or going. This makes escape much more difficult. Until tomorrow.
Wednesday, March 21, 2007
Random mumblings
Well, I can take a big, deep breath now. I finished dying all 30 something of my skeins of yarn for the big project at school. Jeremy video taped me while I was dying, without my consent. But then, I saw how funny he was, so I allowed him to upload it. Just silly, very silly. I had just come home from teaching swimming lessons, my hair was wet, and I was wearing my very attractive dye clothes. I'm trying hard to not let that bother me.
And for anyone worried about the tri-beam scale being on my kitchen counters while I was doing my dying, don't. I was just measuring salt, common house-hold table salt. Hardly a toxic chemical. I mix and measure the really powdery stuff outside (brrrrr!). All my containers and measuring equipment is kept separate from my cooking/kitchen stuff. I'm very anal. Normally I do my dying outside, but since there is still snow on the ground, I was forced to do part of the process in my kitchen. Nothing goes in my kitchen unless it's already in liquid form, except the salt.
I use mostly fiber reactive dyes. They're cold-water, and relatively safe, chemical-wise. Just the power from the dyes is very light and airborne. I always wear a dust mask when I use them. I never would measure those in my kitchen.
I'm really pleased with the results. I will post a picture of the skeins once they are dry.
On the family side of things, Ruthie has to go to the doctor today. Her fever is better, but now that we're past the 72 hour mark, the dr wants to see her, the school wants a doctor's excuse. Joshua still feels pretty lousy too. It was a shame. The Mr had gotten free tickets to a jazz concert last night, but he and the kids couldnt go due to the illness. We just wanted Joshua to see a live jazz concert. Hopefully we can do something before Jazz Fest is over.
So, now I need a vacation...a long one. Between being up with sick kids, being up late dying fiber, trying to keep going, I'm ready to keel over. I'm just going to sleep the summer away. I can just feel it. May 12th can't get here fast enough!
And for anyone worried about the tri-beam scale being on my kitchen counters while I was doing my dying, don't. I was just measuring salt, common house-hold table salt. Hardly a toxic chemical. I mix and measure the really powdery stuff outside (brrrrr!). All my containers and measuring equipment is kept separate from my cooking/kitchen stuff. I'm very anal. Normally I do my dying outside, but since there is still snow on the ground, I was forced to do part of the process in my kitchen. Nothing goes in my kitchen unless it's already in liquid form, except the salt.
I use mostly fiber reactive dyes. They're cold-water, and relatively safe, chemical-wise. Just the power from the dyes is very light and airborne. I always wear a dust mask when I use them. I never would measure those in my kitchen.
I'm really pleased with the results. I will post a picture of the skeins once they are dry.
On the family side of things, Ruthie has to go to the doctor today. Her fever is better, but now that we're past the 72 hour mark, the dr wants to see her, the school wants a doctor's excuse. Joshua still feels pretty lousy too. It was a shame. The Mr had gotten free tickets to a jazz concert last night, but he and the kids couldnt go due to the illness. We just wanted Joshua to see a live jazz concert. Hopefully we can do something before Jazz Fest is over.
So, now I need a vacation...a long one. Between being up with sick kids, being up late dying fiber, trying to keep going, I'm ready to keel over. I'm just going to sleep the summer away. I can just feel it. May 12th can't get here fast enough!
Tuesday, March 20, 2007
These are the days...
...when I wonder where I'm going to find the strength to carry on as a mom.
First Hannah had the fever with a horrendous stuffy nose. It started in the 101's and by day three spiked to 103. Then Ruth got it (still has it). Her fever spiked yesterday. And when I thought it might be over, because Joshua never gets sick, and I mean never. Never say "never," though, because the school nurse called and told me his fever is 101.2. Gonna strap myself in for another rough four days. So much for making it to school tomorrow.
At least I'm getting the hang of this virus. Two days of 101-102 temps, third day of 103 temp, and then back down into the 101's until it breaks. Horrible stuffy nose, cough and nasty headache. The cold side of the virus lasts about week after the fever ends. Now, I am just praying Jeremy. and I don't get this. And if you live near by, I highly recommend staying away, unless you've already had it.
First Hannah had the fever with a horrendous stuffy nose. It started in the 101's and by day three spiked to 103. Then Ruth got it (still has it). Her fever spiked yesterday. And when I thought it might be over, because Joshua never gets sick, and I mean never. Never say "never," though, because the school nurse called and told me his fever is 101.2. Gonna strap myself in for another rough four days. So much for making it to school tomorrow.
At least I'm getting the hang of this virus. Two days of 101-102 temps, third day of 103 temp, and then back down into the 101's until it breaks. Horrible stuffy nose, cough and nasty headache. The cold side of the virus lasts about week after the fever ends. Now, I am just praying Jeremy. and I don't get this. And if you live near by, I highly recommend staying away, unless you've already had it.
Monday, March 12, 2007
A Ruthie tale
"I can't find my other Dora slipper!" Hannah whined.
"Go see if your brother can help you. I can't at the moment." I replied in my half-awake stupor.
Hannah bounded up the steps in her bright and cheerful morning manner. About five minutes later all three of my children reappeared before me giggling hysterically. I looked at my youngest's feet to see these ridiculously large soccer cleats on her feet. Delighting in the noise, she danced around the kitchen in them clacking while waving her arms about wildly.
"We couldn't find her other slipper, or her sneakers, so I put my old soccer cleats on her," Josh managed to say between snickers.
"Hmmmm," said Jeremy. dryly, "I think I know what Hannah is going to be when she grows up."
"A soccer player?" Josh asked.
"Nope," answered my man of little words, "A clown."
"Or a Canadian!" exclaimed Ruth.
"Go see if your brother can help you. I can't at the moment." I replied in my half-awake stupor.
Hannah bounded up the steps in her bright and cheerful morning manner. About five minutes later all three of my children reappeared before me giggling hysterically. I looked at my youngest's feet to see these ridiculously large soccer cleats on her feet. Delighting in the noise, she danced around the kitchen in them clacking while waving her arms about wildly.
"We couldn't find her other slipper, or her sneakers, so I put my old soccer cleats on her," Josh managed to say between snickers.
"Hmmmm," said Jeremy. dryly, "I think I know what Hannah is going to be when she grows up."
"A soccer player?" Josh asked.
"Nope," answered my man of little words, "A clown."
"Or a Canadian!" exclaimed Ruth.
Thursday, March 08, 2007
It's official!
The Hannah is registered for Kindergarten. She successfully charmed all of the staff at the school who did her evaluations. They now all want to take her home with her. I wouldn't be surprised to find out the teachers are fighting over which one of them gets to have her in their class.
While I sat out in the hallway filling out paperwork, Hannah went from classroom to classroom doing various activities such as writing her name, and cutting out a circle. When they returned her to me, at least three different teachers and assistants said to me "She's so much fun." "She's adorable." "She's really cute." Overhearing them, she decided to be even more funny and charming as we walked out the door by walking like a monster.
Kindergarten should be interesting with this one.
While I sat out in the hallway filling out paperwork, Hannah went from classroom to classroom doing various activities such as writing her name, and cutting out a circle. When they returned her to me, at least three different teachers and assistants said to me "She's so much fun." "She's adorable." "She's really cute." Overhearing them, she decided to be even more funny and charming as we walked out the door by walking like a monster.
Kindergarten should be interesting with this one.
Monday, March 05, 2007
The Boy pt 7? (Oh I dont know anymore...)
I hung out with a lot of guys when I was little. My first best friend was a boy who lived next door to me. I remember filling the back of his metal Tonka dump truck with cement with him as we played under the pine tree in his yard. I'm sure his mother was thrilled with us. After that, we moved to a neighborhood where my sister and I were really the only girls of our age. So, of course, we played games little boys would like to play: cops and robbers, space ship, etc. Somehow we always ended up the robbers, or the aliens, the bad guys.
When I was a teenager, all of my friends, with the exception of my sister, were guys. I'd watch them wrestle each other, try to jump off their parents' porch roofs, and have "manliness contests." My sister and I labeled them "manliness contests" because one guy would do some stupid stunt, and then the next guy had to one-up him, and then the next would one-up him as well. It could be anything from, who had more chest hair, to who could do more chin-ups, push-ups and sit-ups. Next thing we knew, they had a adopted the name for themselves. My now-husband was one of the gang. Before we were dating, when he had returned from the Army for a visit, one of the guys said, "Ooh, he's been through basic. Lets see what he can do now! Manliness Contest!" Then they all proceeded to see who could do more push-ups.
I never understood until I had my own son why my father would say, "We men are such bone heads."
All of Josh's young life thus far has been filled with impulsive actions. He never thinks. He does. At four, he found the matches and nearly torched the entire neighborhood. At five, he cut the cord to the phone line with scissors and then proceeded to wail, "Why do I do the things I do?". At six, he decided to pop-a-wheelie on his scooter while going down our very steep hill. He was covered for about two weeks with head to toe scrapes and scratches. I have found our basement foam ceiling tiles completely disintegrated. He has broken and destroyed many of my nice things and his toys. He has nearly taken his own life on many an occasion attempting to do dangerous stunts that, I suppose, he determined would be fun. Once, he and his friend convinced his best friend's little brother to stand on the swing. Then they pushed the swing and continued to keep it in motion by hitting the swing with wiffle ball bats. The little brother has me to thank for saving his life.
I looked back at the stupid things my guy friends would do, then look at my son, and notice his grand ideas aren't that much different from some of the things my friends did. Then I polled my female friends and ask them if they would have done any of the stunts I have been privy too, and they give me this shocked and horrified look like I'm some alien. That's when I decided my kid must be normal, and this must be a "boy thing."
We go through periods where he lacks more impulse control than other times. Currently, we are in one of those times. The latest phrase in the house is, "Is that a GOOD idea? Or a BAD idea." Usually this question alone will stop the activity that had been currently set in motion.
This morning I heard a funny noise as I combed my hair. I figured it was Josh who was supposed to be making lunch. It sounded like something was sawing through something else. I hollered down, "I don't know what you are doing, Son, but I want you to tell me...Is what you're doing a GOOD idea? or a BAD idea?" I still haven't found out what he was doing, but he immediately stopped. There are some things I don't want to know.
Then later I was doing my business in the bathroom. I heard a very loud knocking so I asked, "What do you want?"
"Oh I wasn't knocking," Josh replied.
"Then what were you doing?"
Sheepishly he answered, "Something that was a bad idea..."
When I was a teenager, all of my friends, with the exception of my sister, were guys. I'd watch them wrestle each other, try to jump off their parents' porch roofs, and have "manliness contests." My sister and I labeled them "manliness contests" because one guy would do some stupid stunt, and then the next guy had to one-up him, and then the next would one-up him as well. It could be anything from, who had more chest hair, to who could do more chin-ups, push-ups and sit-ups. Next thing we knew, they had a adopted the name for themselves. My now-husband was one of the gang. Before we were dating, when he had returned from the Army for a visit, one of the guys said, "Ooh, he's been through basic. Lets see what he can do now! Manliness Contest!" Then they all proceeded to see who could do more push-ups.
I never understood until I had my own son why my father would say, "We men are such bone heads."
All of Josh's young life thus far has been filled with impulsive actions. He never thinks. He does. At four, he found the matches and nearly torched the entire neighborhood. At five, he cut the cord to the phone line with scissors and then proceeded to wail, "Why do I do the things I do?". At six, he decided to pop-a-wheelie on his scooter while going down our very steep hill. He was covered for about two weeks with head to toe scrapes and scratches. I have found our basement foam ceiling tiles completely disintegrated. He has broken and destroyed many of my nice things and his toys. He has nearly taken his own life on many an occasion attempting to do dangerous stunts that, I suppose, he determined would be fun. Once, he and his friend convinced his best friend's little brother to stand on the swing. Then they pushed the swing and continued to keep it in motion by hitting the swing with wiffle ball bats. The little brother has me to thank for saving his life.
I looked back at the stupid things my guy friends would do, then look at my son, and notice his grand ideas aren't that much different from some of the things my friends did. Then I polled my female friends and ask them if they would have done any of the stunts I have been privy too, and they give me this shocked and horrified look like I'm some alien. That's when I decided my kid must be normal, and this must be a "boy thing."
We go through periods where he lacks more impulse control than other times. Currently, we are in one of those times. The latest phrase in the house is, "Is that a GOOD idea? Or a BAD idea." Usually this question alone will stop the activity that had been currently set in motion.
This morning I heard a funny noise as I combed my hair. I figured it was Josh who was supposed to be making lunch. It sounded like something was sawing through something else. I hollered down, "I don't know what you are doing, Son, but I want you to tell me...Is what you're doing a GOOD idea? or a BAD idea?" I still haven't found out what he was doing, but he immediately stopped. There are some things I don't want to know.
Then later I was doing my business in the bathroom. I heard a very loud knocking so I asked, "What do you want?"
"Oh I wasn't knocking," Josh replied.
"Then what were you doing?"
Sheepishly he answered, "Something that was a bad idea..."
Saturday, February 10, 2007
Meet Ho-ha, our invisible family member
I've mentioned Ho-ha in previous posts. I thought I'd introduce him to the world.
Ho-ha came to live with us when Hannah was about two years old, a rather young age to invent an imaginary friend. It was also the same year she named her purple plush bunny rabbit, "Goat." Ho-ha quickly became a friend for reasons of security. He had to go everywhere with us. Hannah would insist upon it, and cry if we "forgot Ho-ha."
Ho-ha fits into the average sized pants pocket. It's his preferred form of travel. He's mischievous, but has never done anything seriously wrong. He likes to make jokes and play pranks on people. He says very silly things from time to time. Hannah, worried about Ho-ha's ability to stay home alone, carried Ho-ha in her pocket for at least a year until Ho-ha and I could convince her he was big enough and brave enough to be home. He's a bit of a home-body and would rather not go out when he doesn't feel like it. Sometimes he comes with us, but because he can be rather shy, will decide to stay in the car.
Ho-ha doesn't eat a whole lot and doesn't take up a whole lot of space. We just have to be careful not to sit on Ho-ha. Since he's invisible, and rather small, he's easy to miss. Thankfully, he's rather resilient. Even when squashed, he seems to bounce back.
"You sat on Ho-ha."
"No I didn't, he's sitting right there," I insisted in one conversation.
"No he's not. You sat on him. You have to get up Mama," Hannah replied more adamant.
"Look, see. I can see Ho-ha right here. He's sitting next to me eating a granola bar."
"OH!" Hannah answered. " I didn't see that. He's so small. Silly Ho-ha."
Silly Ho-ha. Hannah calls him silly a lot. I wouldn't really know. I don't converse with Ho-ha like she does.
Ho-ha enjoys playing lots of games, tag, hide and seek, games like that. He loves to swing on the swings. Chick-fil-A is Ho-ha's favorite restaurant. Sometimes Ho-ha sneaks downstairs in the middle of the night for a snack. Sometimes Ho-ha is afraid of the dark.
At times Ho-ha goes away and we think he most likely won't come back this time. But somehow he always does. Lately, he's been a little more subdued. Someday, when Ho-ha and Hannah go their separate ways, I think I'm going to miss him. ;-)
Ho-ha came to live with us when Hannah was about two years old, a rather young age to invent an imaginary friend. It was also the same year she named her purple plush bunny rabbit, "Goat." Ho-ha quickly became a friend for reasons of security. He had to go everywhere with us. Hannah would insist upon it, and cry if we "forgot Ho-ha."
Ho-ha fits into the average sized pants pocket. It's his preferred form of travel. He's mischievous, but has never done anything seriously wrong. He likes to make jokes and play pranks on people. He says very silly things from time to time. Hannah, worried about Ho-ha's ability to stay home alone, carried Ho-ha in her pocket for at least a year until Ho-ha and I could convince her he was big enough and brave enough to be home. He's a bit of a home-body and would rather not go out when he doesn't feel like it. Sometimes he comes with us, but because he can be rather shy, will decide to stay in the car.
Ho-ha doesn't eat a whole lot and doesn't take up a whole lot of space. We just have to be careful not to sit on Ho-ha. Since he's invisible, and rather small, he's easy to miss. Thankfully, he's rather resilient. Even when squashed, he seems to bounce back.
"You sat on Ho-ha."
"No I didn't, he's sitting right there," I insisted in one conversation.
"No he's not. You sat on him. You have to get up Mama," Hannah replied more adamant.
"Look, see. I can see Ho-ha right here. He's sitting next to me eating a granola bar."
"OH!" Hannah answered. " I didn't see that. He's so small. Silly Ho-ha."
Silly Ho-ha. Hannah calls him silly a lot. I wouldn't really know. I don't converse with Ho-ha like she does.
Ho-ha enjoys playing lots of games, tag, hide and seek, games like that. He loves to swing on the swings. Chick-fil-A is Ho-ha's favorite restaurant. Sometimes Ho-ha sneaks downstairs in the middle of the night for a snack. Sometimes Ho-ha is afraid of the dark.
At times Ho-ha goes away and we think he most likely won't come back this time. But somehow he always does. Lately, he's been a little more subdued. Someday, when Ho-ha and Hannah go their separate ways, I think I'm going to miss him. ;-)
Friday, February 09, 2007
You give me fever!
It's that time of year again...sniffling, sneezing, coughing, wheezing...and fevers.
On Wednesday I received "mom of the year" award. I insisted Ruthie was fine enough to go to school. At around 10:30 they called the mr. and he came and picked her up. Her temp was well over 100 degrees. On Thursday, there was no sign of the temperature going down, so I kept her home again. I forgot to call the school to let them know she would be out, so they called me...talk about a new experience. I guess I'm glad to know that if your child plays hookie in the second grade, they're on top of it. What's even more sad, is that there are enough parents out there that don't care if their child goes to school or not, that they have to make the phone calls in the first place. I can only figure there were enough people just letting their elementary school aged children cut that they had to employ this system.
But I digress. So, yesterday, Ruthie ended up spending half the day with my sister. I was planning on canceling Hannah's swimming lesson, but I knew I couldn't cancel our Allergy Shot (not without serious repercussions) and I was hoping to not cancel Joshua's drum lesson. I have a wonderful sister. She offered to keep Ruthie for that long so that Hannah could go to her lesson as well. That made Hannah's day considering this is the highlight of her week. A few weeks ago she told me, "Swimming is MY sport." Hannah owes her aunt a HUGE thank you.
Unfortunately, today Hannah is feverish, so we're both home from school today. I guess I'll get some dying done, as well as some much needed laundry.
On Wednesday I received "mom of the year" award. I insisted Ruthie was fine enough to go to school. At around 10:30 they called the mr. and he came and picked her up. Her temp was well over 100 degrees. On Thursday, there was no sign of the temperature going down, so I kept her home again. I forgot to call the school to let them know she would be out, so they called me...talk about a new experience. I guess I'm glad to know that if your child plays hookie in the second grade, they're on top of it. What's even more sad, is that there are enough parents out there that don't care if their child goes to school or not, that they have to make the phone calls in the first place. I can only figure there were enough people just letting their elementary school aged children cut that they had to employ this system.
But I digress. So, yesterday, Ruthie ended up spending half the day with my sister. I was planning on canceling Hannah's swimming lesson, but I knew I couldn't cancel our Allergy Shot (not without serious repercussions) and I was hoping to not cancel Joshua's drum lesson. I have a wonderful sister. She offered to keep Ruthie for that long so that Hannah could go to her lesson as well. That made Hannah's day considering this is the highlight of her week. A few weeks ago she told me, "Swimming is MY sport." Hannah owes her aunt a HUGE thank you.
Unfortunately, today Hannah is feverish, so we're both home from school today. I guess I'll get some dying done, as well as some much needed laundry.
Sunday, February 04, 2007
Green Faced Monsters?
Ruhtie has been dying to use a mud mask. I have no idea where she learned about them, but she has begged and begged to try one. So, for Christmas, I stuck a tube of St. Ives Mud Mask in her stocking. Instantly, this became her most favorite gift. Go figure. I spent hours trying to figure out what to give her for Christmas, and she would have been plenty happy with just the mud mask.
Unfortunately, we haven't had time to apply the mask until tonight. Hannah joined in the fun. I captured the event with my older camera since my newer camera is still broken. If you look closely, you can get a general idea of what our living room now looks like, though the paint looks more yellow in the picture. It's actually a cream color with yellowish undertones. It's not finished yet, pictures still need to be hung, as does the surround sound. Knick-knacks need to find homes, that sort of finishing touches have to be made. Most of this stuff is still sitting on top of the entertainment center. However, we did unload a ton of stuff at Goodwill yesterday. Ahhhhh that feels good.
Enjoy:
(I'm not sure I can tell who is the bigger ham...Ruthie or Hannah...)
Friday, December 22, 2006
I have such a weird family...
This morning Hannah woke up with unruly hair.
"You look like a mad scientist," Joshua informed her.
"Let me go see," she responded.
Hannah ran over to the mirror on the living room closet door and laughed maniacally. "Muhahahahahahahahaaaaa!" Then as she began to walk away from the mirror, said, "I gotta see that again!" Running back over to the mirror, laughed maniacally again and then returned to the table to finish her breakfast.
Meanwhile, Jeremy was upstairs shaving, humming to his electric razor.
"You look like a mad scientist," Joshua informed her.
"Let me go see," she responded.
Hannah ran over to the mirror on the living room closet door and laughed maniacally. "Muhahahahahahahahaaaaa!" Then as she began to walk away from the mirror, said, "I gotta see that again!" Running back over to the mirror, laughed maniacally again and then returned to the table to finish her breakfast.
Meanwhile, Jeremy was upstairs shaving, humming to his electric razor.
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