Time's Up

In less than 12 hours it will be 2012. This year I ended up Sadder (work got tougher, lost a co-worker) in some ways and Happier (Honey is gainfully employed with virtually no commute, The children have all grown and progressed in various ways.) Thinner, even though I abandoned my diet in October and gained 10 lbs, and Richer, obviously, due to employment.

I don't feel like I did all that well with my resolutions, but let's take a look, shall we? Let's give them a rating system of between one and three ampersands to grade how I did.

Resolution #1: I want to grow a garden of edibles this year. This didn't happen. Three kids kind of whooped my butt and taking the pressure off of myself to garden was a big help. I bought a bunch of seeds, but they didn't start properly. I double dug some of our yard up, but once it rained, it just settled back into clay. Plus, the summer here is unbearably hot. We purchased a CSA farm share and that was a lot of fun. I feel like paying someone else to garden was kind of my gardening. Maybe? Maybe not.
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Resolution #2: I want to choose more whole foods to put into my grocery cart and body and family. I think we accomplished this one through my being on a diet and the CSA shares. We ate and preserved a lot of vegetables this past year. I also made it a point to keep the fruit bowl filled with relatively seasonal fruit. I did so well with this one, the children now complain if it starts to get empty.
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Resolution #3: I am going to buy a pair of Saucony Original Jazz shoes. I did do this one! I did it because I wanted to start running, but just a week into it, my knees were hurting so bad I could barely walk. I just don't think running is for me. Now I need to figure out a new way to exercise, because I think I am going to abandon my dance classes.
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Resolution #: I am going to abide by the golden rule more when it comes to my children. I did better with this this year. I am kind of embarrassed to say why though. Some of it was Jelly growing up and just being a better listener, but what really changed our family life to make it less agitated and more calm and loving was this: Brother started taking medication for ADD.

No more fights about homework. No more breathing down his neck about his grades. Now he has mostly A's with a smattering of B's and does his homework unprompted right when he comes home. We tried everything we could think of for years until we really felt like we were at the end of our rope. Now, I wished we hadn't waited so long. I still am not in love with the idea of the drugs, but all of our lives and relationships have improved because of them.
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Well, I think I did alright! How about you? How was your 2011? What are you goals for 2012?

Whew!

Is this thing on?

Where did I go? No where far, I assure you. I am just trying to adjust to the new normal of being far more busy at work than I have been in the past. And I have never been good at getting anything done at home.

We work a skeleton crew during the holidays at my office so I worked my two days last week. This week I am completely off to be home with the boys. Honey took off last week and we had a vacation of sorts, going to the zoo, going to the Christmas festival, etc. It was nice. It is still hard to work around a baby who naps twice daily still, though. We had a nice Christmas. Honey made a ham. My folks came over. There were far too many presents and the garbage men came a day late, so our outside trash was overflowing. My bedroom is still covered in boxes from Amazon. I am torn between just wanting to throw them out and breaking them down to use in the gardens I am planning.

It is a bit chilly here today, but it is supposed to warm back up to the 70s by the weekend. Needless to say, it didn't feel very holiday-ish. We've watched the Phineas & Ferb movie too many times to count. The baby has started to dance recently, but he does the strangest thing. He twirls. I've never seen that before. He has also hit a naughty stage. I was thinking he would be chill like Brother, but it seems he is going to take more after Jelly and be a gleefully naughty bear. Oo boy. He is prone to grabbing things he isn't supposed to have and running. Drives me bonkers. And climbing. He climbs just like Jelly did. There are some differences between the two, of course. Scooter is a better sleeper and is more interested in nursing still than Jelly was at this stage. Brother had already weaned himself by this age. I occasionally worry Scooter won't self wean by age 2, which is my arbitrary limit. I figure after growing a kid for 9 months and nursing for two years, I get to get my body back. (Some prize, right? Saggy, shriveled everything.)

We did go to Whole Foods to get some dairy-free dairy products for Scooter. I never realized how much yogurt and cheese I feed my kids until I couldn't give any to Scooter. He really loves the yogurt and I am going to try my hand at making soy yogurt at home, since we don't have a Whole Foods around here and none of our local stores sell it and it is horrifically expensive. I have made dairy yogurt before, so I figure the process can't be that different. I will use the soy yogurt I have now as a starter. Although I do have to locate my yogurt maker...

A little of this and that...

• Scooter is bona fide walking. He has been taking a step here and there for a month, maybe, but now! He is taking like 7-10 steps before he wobbles over like a drunk wino. It all started with the toy lawn mower over the weekend. He was walking and pushing it around the yard. Something clicked and later he walked right across the bathroom! (Riveting, I know.) Now he is toddling all over. He still crawls some when he wants to get there quickly. There. My last baby. Walking.
• Work is stressing me out (Surprise!) and children stress me out. I had two Screwdrivers last night and fell asleep at 7:30. Alcohol works better than Benedryl. Who knew? I did feel guilty abandoning Honey in my anxiety-laden haze. But there you go. I am a featherweight. Two shots does me in for the night. Sometimes we do things of which we are not proud.
• I wanted to have Thanksgiving at my house this year because LAST year, I went to my mother's and cooked and cooked all day. Then, I had to come home and make dinner. Because there were no leftovers. No leftovers. From Thanksgiving. I was obviously scarred. That and my mother has decided she is jaded and just wants pizza for Thanksgiving, but I have little kids, you know? I am not jaded. I want a real holiday. So, I have to make that happen.
• I am currently not so sure this was the best idea I have ever had. This means I have to clean and plan and clean up the yard and buy a bunch of food and cook all day and and and...you know, everything you are likely to have to do yourself.
• While I was passed out last night, Honey went to the store to buy a ham and picked me up some Peppermint Mocha coffee creamer. Ya'll. It is good.
• He also picked up some fancy cheese for Thanksgiving. His choices are interesting. Namely the Asiago which I am pretty sure is a hard, Parmesan-like cheese, meant to be grated, not enjoyed with crackers.
• Invited my MIL to Thanksgiving. She's not coming. We haven't seen her for a year. Heh.
• The auction is really picking up. Things are starting to fall into place. We still have a lot of work ahead of us, but things don't look nearly so bleak. Hurrah!

Man Cold

So Monday morning I started to feel a bit off and by that afternoon, I was getting close to misery. Tuesday was the day of severe exhastion on the tails of a sleepless night because I couldn't breathe. (Oh, functioning nostrils. You are so dear to me. Forget my eyes or nice smile. You might be my current favorite feature.) All day I was sooo tired and I wanted to sleep so bad, but I couldn't. I would randomly jump out of bed and wonder what I was doing there because I was so tired, standing up seemed like the worst idea in the universe. Stupid cold medicine. So now I am sans cold medicine because it obviously made me psycho.

I referred to my current illness as "my man cold" because I am such a freaking baby. I want chicken soup! In bed! With Orange Juice! And I want to be patted and asked what I need and offered Tylenol. I want fluffed pillows, dammit. And I do not want to have to tell anyone to do it.

So I called my husband while I was dying in bed around lunch time on Tuesday. I though he might bring me something. Stop in to see me since his office is in town. Check up on me. But. He was having lunch by himself at a local restaurant. He had no intentions of delivering sustenance to me in my time of need. He said he was planning on calling...hmph.

Well, what do you think about that? I am of the opinion: Minor Husband Fail. Not a huge deal fail, mostly an eye rolling, "What did you think was going to happen, Misty?"

I tend to be good at nursing and if the shoe was on the other foot, I would have rushed home and brought him lunch in bed and made sure he had a gallon of juice, ice water, assortment of symptom relieving medications at the ready. Some folks are nurturing. Some folks have to be told to nurture. Some folks are whiny brats when they are sick. *Ahem*

Oh well, at least I am on the mend.

Thank You

I am writing this on the DL. I should be doing 800 other million bazillion things. Really. And my anxiety levels are through the roof. But you know what makes it all better? (Ok, maybe not allll better the way a bottle of vodka and unfettered access to the entire Godiva inventory would make it all better. Ok, not even that. It being-post December. That is what will make it alllll better. Sorry. I'll start again.)

You know what makes it better? You. Emailing me and basically saying, "How can I help? Will this work?" I am reminded of that schmaltzy ebay commercial that goes on and on about how "We knew the world was full of basically good people."

YES! The world IS full of basically good people. And you are one of them. And I am so overwhelmingly thankful.

Thank you.

Cry Baby

My children are addicted to electronics. It is pretty sad. When we are driving home from the sitter, Jelly says, "When I get home, I'm going to play on the tablet!" Not go outside and see his friends. Not run and play in the yard with the gaggle of neighborhood children. No. Stare at a screen. Brother does much the same thing. He has a single friend who seems like a good enough reason to get off of the computer or Wii. Anyone else who comes knocking? Nah. I even had to chase him outside to carve Halloween pumpkins with his dad this past weekend.

I mostly blame Honey for this. We have so many electronic gizmos in our house; at last count we had 9+ ways to connect to the Internet/play Angry Birds. I hate video games (Goddamn smirking pigs!) and would wholeheartedly rather read. And while I have sacrificed and early bedtime for a good story, I wouldn't give up a friend visit for a book.

I am not blameless when it comes to allowing the children too much screen time (which consists of mostly gaming. We don't have cable and there is next to no TV watching in our house. I am not sure if this makes it better...) If they are playing Plants vs Zombies, they are occupied. They are safe. They are happy. I guess it is hard to intervene when there is no ensuing chaos, at least until the electronic devices are forcibly removed.

THEN all hell breaks loose. Jelly didn't go to bed last night well. Dawdling. Not listening. Getting out of bed repeatedly. So he lost the tablet today. (Oh, gee. One of the 9+ ways to play video games. Darn.) He was a weepy mess this morning.

Me: Good morning, sweetheart
Jelly: BWAHHHHHHHH!!!!!!!!!!!
Me: Would you like a snack?
Jelly: BWAHHHHHHHH!!!!!!!!!!!
Me: I love you more than the sun and the moons and the stars in the sky!
Jelly: BWAHHHHHHHH!!!!!!!!!!! BWAHHHHHHHH!!!!!!!!!!!BWAHHHHHHHH!!!!!!!!!!!

It was ugly. Anyway, I think we are back to square one which is this: "If you cannot effectively police yourself when it comes to video games, then we shall have to do it for you." And the timer comes out. And we will have to start actively shooing children away from screens or unplugging them and encouraging other stuff. Things will get better for a while and then Honey and I will relax a bit. In probably two months or so, I will be right back here complaining of my children's lack of non-screen time.

Parenting. Sheesh.

Hide Me! or How to (in)Effectively Raise Funds for Nonprofits

I think there are two kinds of people in the world. The kind that asks for things and the kind that doesn't. The kind that asks for things, the "All they can do is say no!" kind of people don't understand the kind of people who don't like to/won't ask for things. There are reasons we don't ask, you know.

• If they really wanted to do it, they would do it without prompting.
• They will think you are a total jerk for having the presumption to ask.
• They may say no, which makes everyone feel awkward.
• They may say yes, but under duress and no one wants this to happen so it is better to spare everyone's feelings and JUST NOT ASK.

Until, of course, it is your job to ask. And they write you paychecks with the assumption that you will put on your big girl panties, lay aside your pride and ask for free shit.

*Ahem* It feels so smarmy to ask people to give you stuff. Can you imagine? I feel like a pan handler or one of those fellows at the bottom of the interstate ramps asking for spare change. I am currently having a panic attack. Anyhoo.

This isn't my first rodeo. I do this every year. You'd think that by now I would be immune, after sending out 500+ letters a year to every business type I can think of, but no. I still get the willies. We send to those do-your-own-art shops, big box stores, restaurants (both local and chain), B&Bs, antique dealers, car wash places, casinos, theatres. I have now made it my personal mission to try to infiltrate where crafters gather (which would be exactly where? Flea markets? Etsy has eaten the world!) But everyone gets hit up all the time. We know this. Grantors that be all expect match. They expect you to fund raise in order to get their money to do the work/help people. From larger institutions, I often hear "we have met our donation quota for the year." Which means, no stuffs for us.

What I was telling my co-worker is that we need is stuff. One year an Avon lady unloaded her miscellaneous/discontinued items on us. It was great. We were able to work with that. (Lots of bubble bath baskets that year...) I have another lady who works with a funder of ours who gives us her "I Christmas shop all year. Here is all the stuff I didn't want to give to anyone" stuff. I am creative! I can do something with that. It is all about who you know. (Great job for an introvert, right?)

This year we are at a loss. Donations are the lowest I have ever seen. It feels like 2008-2009 all over again. Hey! Want to be me for the next month?

Picture

All around my computer screen, there are snapshot pictures taped or tacked. A shrine to my family.

There is a picture of Honey and me at our wedding reception. My, we look young. I am standing behind him with my mother's pearls resting on his shoulder. You can see the spinach and artichoke dip, the garlic mashed potatoes, onion rings, fillet. Glasses of water are beaded with moisture. I can almost feel the warm Gulf breeze.

There is a picture of us in my mother's backyard on a wicker love seat next to the greying privacy fence. Jelly is sitting like a frog, completely unimpressed by Grandma's Thanksgiving picture taking rituals. Honey and I are smiling. Brother isn't looking at the camera. Scooter is a bald little cue ball.

Jelly is doing the bear-your-teeth smile of all preschoolers from inside the glowing igloo that is Christmas decoration. The bright white lights match his hair.

Brother is smiling, rosy cheeked. Dark, sparkly eyes. Bits of chocolate around his mouth. Dark sweaty hair, swept to the side.

A black and white ink print out of Honey and me at Chuck E. Cheese. My hair is long and held back by side barrettes. I am kissing his cheek and my nose is squished up from the pressure. There are glints of light in his glasses and a bewildered look on his face. Somehow, he never seems to know what is coming...

My favorite picture of Brother. He is two and sitting in a Cozy Coup (one of those stereotypical yellow and red cars every kid seems to have.) It is Christmas morning and he just got it. He loved it so much, he refused to get out. I had to feed him eggs through the window. His mouth is wide and open. I can count his teeth and see his tongue. The joy is leaking everywhere.

Scooter is laying on a cushion in front of our fireplace and stockings. He has no hair at all and great ears. All my kids have great ears, that stick straight out. Just like mine.

A computer printout of my handsome husband. It is a picture taken from a monitor's camera. He is wearing a green shirt (as always) and his dark rimmed glasses. There are a number of lanyards around his neck, presumably holding flash drives or server room keys. Under his smile, he is holding a neon yellow sticky note on which is written, "I love you!"

The most wonderful time of the year

Today was the start of our Fall CSA. I feel lucky/smug at the bag of beautiful vegetables sitting behind my desk and the vase of zinnias to my left. The colors look like summertime, even though it is a breezy 60 degrees outside. (Although still very VERY sunny. Still, closest we get to fall hereabouts.) My french doors are spread wide to let in the wind and the sun and the sounds of the train across the street. I like the green so close to me. Makes me forget I am cooped up in an office.

The farm we get our CSA from doesn't deliver to my town anymore and you have to go pick up in the Next Town Over. I have a friend who works from home who has agreed to go pick up our share for the next 6 weeks. I am planning in my head for eggplant lasagna and googling the best way to use flowering tarragon, which smells like licorice. Even more than the fresh produce, I love the sleuth-like creativity required to use all these veggies before next week's haul.

The acorns are thunking down on my car under the live oak in the parking lot. When I leave for the day, I turn on the windshield wipers to scatter the seeds as I am driving. I wonder about those little seeds and if they will ever make a tree on the side of the interstate.

Soon, good apples will be rolling into the supermarkets. We have 4 pumpkins on our front porch waiting to be carved into jack-o-lanterns. Finalization of Halloween costumes are in the works.

Oh, I love Fall.

Things I Like

A list for Friday, what is more appropriate? I thought in the spirit cheer, I would make a list of things that I like for one reason or another.

• Cafe Au Lait and Beignets late at night after an event. We took the kids after a wedding last weekend, but I also have fond memories of going after the opera.
• Women who swear. I can't really say why. I think it is because all of the broad-shouldered feminists in my life drop the f-bomb quite frequently. And I also think that one doesn't swear around folks they are uncomfortable around or unsure of. It is something you do when you are sure of someone. So I feel like I am an easy person to be around when a friend says 'shit' without apologizing.
• Plastic-y jewelry. There is a new shop in town that is like Claire's for big girls. They have stuff in a rainbow of colors. Something to match every thing in your wardrobe and the store is quite large. I am usually not a big jewelry person and for a long time I wouldn't wear anything that wasn't 'real', but my standards are relaxing.
• There are a couple new frozen yogurt kind of places in town where the yogurt is soft-serve style with a bunch of flavors. Pick as many flavors as you like and then add whatever kind of toppings you like, weigh it and voila! Custom yumminess. You can choose really healthy smaller portions and only pay for what you buy. (Or you can get the Chocolate Silk with crushed Thin Mints and Hot Fudge. I won't tell.) We have been taking the kids there because they usually have a dairy-free option for Scooter, who usually misses out on the ice cream runs.
• A clean house makes me feel really happy. I don't get to feel this kind of happy very often, mostly because I am a lazy such-and-such.
• Ordering things from Harry & David to mail to folks. Everything they have looks so yummy, but is mostly nut filled or paired with nuts, so a no-no for us. So I buy them for other people. I do the same thing with girl stuff. I have no use for it, but someone does! And it makes me happy to be able to buy it AND give a present. Two-fer.
• The Yamaha Clavinova electric piano in Brother's room as we speak. He has been attending lessons for about 2 months and is progressing nicely. I had been looking for a keyboard secondhand on craigslist. Usually they are about $1000-$1500 but I lucked out and got one for $400. I am so excited he is interested. I told that he will never ever regret keeping up with it, but he will surely regret quitting. That isn't an issue right now, but I am so pleased to be able to do this for him and possibly for Jelly and Scooter as well. Both Honey and I grew up with working parents who had no college education. There wasn't a lot of money for any kind of enrichment, even though we both wanted to learn to play music or take dance classes or join clubs. I am so so thankful I am able to do this for my kids. *Happy Sigh*
• All of you! I never would have thought 10 years ago that I would have waves of affection for folks who live in my computer and discuss what you write with my husband and friends...like you are real people! Yet, there you have it. Happy Friday!

Gimmes

I am not a content sort of person.

I have ideas. I have lists of things I want to do. I am not happy with the status quo. I want things. Mostly things like home improvements and fun vacations, but still. Want. A friend of mine says she found a handyman who works for cheap. I am wrangling to get a phone number because I have ideas/needs but no skill or really time. Another friend says she knows someone who cleans houses. Boy, I could use a reasonably priced someone to do that as well. I sat on the kitchen floor nursing Scooter this morning (don't ask) and was none too pleased at their state.

And yet...all these things cost money. A finite resource. Just like everyone, we have to pick and choose what we are going to spend our money on. And Christmas is coming up in just a few short months.

I think I have a case of the gimmes. I need to chill myself out a bit and focus on buying just a little bit here and there. Like paint. I want basically the whole house painted. So I need to pick out colors and every paycheck, go and get a color. That way the task gets done and I don't drop $200 on paint in one sitting. I have taken this approach with vacations and Christmas. I decided how much money I thought I would want to spend on vacations/holiday gifts this year and then set up an autodebit into my savings account for each pay period. I guess it is kind of like my personal escrow.

What do you save for? How do you help yourself be patient?

Baby Pictures

My baby... *sniff*

Scooter says: WTF?

Melancholy Sweetness

Hellloooooo Down there!

My absolute favorite. Isn't it really special?

Doesn't he just look naughty? Because he is.

My boys.

Tickle fight! In the middle of a photoshoot!

Tootsie Toes

Deadline

Today is the Fall Equinox. Yesterday was the last day of summer. I wonder now how I let it pass so disregarded. Today is also my 31st birthday, wherein I pass from the summer of my life into the autumn, moving from the time of planting and sowing into the time of harvest.

What the heck am I talking about, right?

My mother had me when she was 16 years old. Being but children, my biological parents didn't stay together for even a year. When I was 6 months old, my mother met the man who has been my father for my whole life. They were young parents, and pretty great parents. Unfortunately, they were unable to have any more children. (This fact actually affected how many children I ended up having... to kind of make up for the fact that my mom couldn't have as many as she wanted.)

I have said in the past how close I am to my folks. I was always the kind of kid who listened to what they said and took it to heart (excepting a few teenage, religion-addled years where I thought they were stupid and going to hell.) My folks always said, "People should have children when they are young and poor! So they have the energy to deal with them and are less likely to spoil them." Now, my parents aren't particularly judgmental and that is a pretty judgmental statement. Even sitting here keying it out, I can see a lot of flaws in that line of thinking. However, there are some truths to it too. I can see that from watching a few grandparents in my family having to raise their children's children. It doesn't work out so well sometimes. The grandparents get sick and the children have to leave their homes to live elsewhere. Uprooted. Broken. Sad. Some of my parents accepting this line of thinking as a basically good idea might have been to simply justify the life path they had chosen, as well.

Anyway, growing up with this philosophy, I wanted to be done having kids by the time I was 30. This is a personal, and frankly arbitrary choice. I have known for a while that Honey doesn't want any more babies because he is ready to move on from the diapers-and-no-sleep stage of our lives. And I am ready for vacations and no scheduled naps wrecking weekend plans and 8 hours of solid sleep a night, too. But it is just this morning, sitting and drinking my coffee that I realize that if I am going to stick to my goal of being done before my 30th year ends, the deadline has come and my childbearing years have ended - by my choice, but still. Ended. Today.

And I am a bit sad because change makes me sad. In some ways I don't want to move on, and my heart is still a bit bruised knowing there will be no more floppy newborn moments or first smiles from my own sweet babies. But I can feel time marching forward, regardless of how I feel about it. I can see Brother going to his first school dance tonight and Jelly playing soccer like a big kid in the local league and Scooter starting to stand for 10-15 seconds at a time unaided. Time marches on. I think Devan once said that it was time to move from making a family to growing a family.

So, summer fades into fall in more ways than one. I feel like there should have been a celebration and a mourning. A note of the decisions made that leave other options opted out of. The fork in the road. One path chosen leaving the other path and all the possibilities associated with it behind. The only thing left for me to do is remember the past, embrace now, and plan for the future.

Weee-ner & Randomness

And the winner is, courtesy of the Random Number Generator......

Ms. Doing My Best of amdoingmybest.blogspot.com

*Insert Happy Dance*

I am very pleased to send back a bit of kindness her way, since she has done much for the mamas of the blogosphere.

~~~

Sometimes I wish I didn't have a desk job. I am getting so freaking stiff sitting here all day long.

~~~

Brother got a filling this morning. On his way to school, he kept poking his face and saying, "My face is fat." And then I would argue with him that his face is no fatter than it was this morning and then relaying my epidural experiences where it feels like your legs are someone else's legs. And how you touch them and wonder, is this what my legs feel like to other people who touch them? And then are less than pleased with that idea seeing as you haven't shaved for 6 months due to not being able to bend at the waist. Ok, I didn't tell him all of that.

~~~

This weekend is my birthday weekend. I don't have any great hopes for it. When I asked Honey if I should be expecting anything, I got your basic "deer in the headlights" crossed with "kicked puppy." Which I don't quite understand his distress because it is not like I do anything really huge for his birthday, other than buy him whatever expensive gizmo he is coveting at the time, make a special dessert of his choice, organize a sitter so we can go out to dinner at the restaurant of his choice, and basically cater to his every whim for a minimum of 2-3 days. That's not much, right? Right.

I am just kidding, really. I don't even want all that. Know what I have been trying to get him to get me for mortal years? I would love it if he would take the boys to one of those "build your own bead jewelry" places and let them pick out random pieces to make a hodgepodge bracelet for me. I can see Brother picking out black crystals and Honey picking out green jade and Jelly picking beads shaped like rubber ducks. My whole family on my wrist. Wouldn't that be so special? Alas... Maybe when Scooter is old enough to make a choice, then I will get one.

~~~

I am having a hard time sticking with my diet on the weekends. There is always something going on. A birthday. A wedding. Going out to eat. Hard, Hard, Hard. I have been hovering around the same weight for *most* of September not because I have hit a plateau, but because my determination is wavering. Yesterday, I put on the smallest jeans I own and felt GREAT about it. It is hard to imagine that I am supposed to be 30 lbs lighter than this. I don't even know how I will look. I haven't been that small for a decade...

Anyway, my dance class is fun, but I think sometime in the next month or so I need to get more serious about exercise. I keep thinking I want to be a runner because all the cool kids are doing it, but my knees are old maw-maw knees and can't hack it. Any knee protection secrets out there?

~~~

We were going to go camping around Thanksgiving and now can't because Honey is unlikely to get off of work. I want to go on a trip, but didn't want to pull Brother out of school. Maybe when it warms up in the spring. You know, like February.

Birthday Boy

5x7 Folded Card

View the entire collection of cards.

Pete & Pickles Giveaway

Late one night last week, while Honey was gone on his trip, I ventured into the library with the children after Brother's piano lessons. I picked out the D and E Sound Box books for Jelly to take to the sitter as they were doing those letters this week and we love the Sound Box books.

I am a huge fan of librarians. Big shocker, I know, seeing as I am one myself. I am a firm believer that librarians are just the nicest, most interesting people on the planet. They. Know. Everything. Which is why I became a librarian...to be as close as possible to knowing everything seeing as it is not really possible to know everything...but I digress. Having huge respect for the Children's Librarian at my local library branch, I always check out what she has selected to display on top of the bookshelves. These are the books she wants to be sure you see... the best, the newest, the most awesome. So I pick up two. One by Kathryn Otoshi (which is really wonderful) and Pete & Pickles by Berkley Breathed.

Do you know this? It was done in 2008 and I hadn't come across it before. But oh, it is lovely. I think I enjoyed it far more than Jelly Bean did. The illustrations are done so well. They tell a more in depth version of the texted story. I say "Dare to dream of a different life" a lot. That is partially what this book is about... along with love, doing the right thing, remembrance, fear, imagination. And it has dandelions. *Happy Sigh*

Anyway, I want to give one of these books away to you. So you can read it and love it, too. Leave a comment telling me about your all-time favorite illustrated book, whether it be children's lit or graphic novel and you will be entered into this Fabulous! Giveaway!

And tell your friends. It is more fun that way and we can all get good book recommendations from the comments.

Mom-a-thon

This past week, Honey has been on a business trip in the East with pretty trees and no 3 AM feedings and dinner out every night.

Not that I am bitter.

This means I have been working a nonstop Mom-a-thon for the past week and boy, am I tired. I have had the following experiences:

• Giving Scooter a bit of banana to come back and not only finding him mashing it into the flooring, but also rolling in it. And mashing. And rolling. I am not at a place where I can laugh about this yet. Where did he learn this?
• I have fantasized about sending Jelly to boarding school for Kindergarten.
• I have banned a feral neighbor child from my yard as 10 minutes before needing to leave for soccer practice and 2 nano seconds after I explicitly said, "Jelly do NOT get wet and, NeighborChild, do not encourage him to get wet when I specifically said not to!" Jelly walks in the house, dripping.
• I have tried to Skype with said absentee husband while children are running and screaming in the background and I am bellowing at them to Please! Be! Quiet! And then I laid my head down on the desk because I was losing the battle.
• Felt like I was doing fine. Fine! Honey didn't even need to come home. Everything was going swimmingly.
• Felt dried up and prune-ish. Like there was absolutely nothing left to give and I wasn't sure I was cut out for this "motherhood" thing.

I feel a lot of pressure to do a lot of things. And I feel like I am the only one with vision and goals. And I am also freaking tired of explaining how I feel and breaking down and asking for help and still not getting any.

And I also wonder if I am an ungrateful PITA.

I need a break, I think, but I don't even know what that would look like. Vacations are no vacation with the kids. I feel like going and sitting on a beach somewhere by myself, but then who would take care of the kids? They wouldn't understand. No one would, really. But I am starting to feel like, if I have to take care of everyone else, shouldn't someone be taking care of me? Or do I have to do that, too.

I am just ready for a pause in the Mom-a-thon.

So long

I have worked at my organization for 8 years alongside two other people (although many other have come and gone). My boss and Martha. I have written about Martha before and how she was kind of a caretaker of sorts. Whenever we would go to lunch, she would drive. She had mad backing-in skills. Once we were driving through an intersection and on the cross street, a car ran the red light and she slammed on the brakes. Saved our lives, practically.

Whenever I was pregnant, she would lend me a few of her loose tops and tell me to bring them back when I was done. They always smelled so good, like Gain. I worried that when I brought them back after wearing them weekly for 9+ months if they would be too worn or smell unGain-ish. We all went to her son's wedding last October. She looked like a fashion model in a floor length, champagne-colored satin gown. Her grandchildren called her Nana.

She and I didn't always get along. There were occasional tense moments and frankly, her communication style used to drive me bonkers. But she was steady, capable. She rarely had anything negative to say. She always found a solution or at least the bright side. She loved salads and always ordered extra dressing. Man, I wish I could go out to lunch with her one more time.

She called in sick last week, complaining of a headache and chills. She never calls in sick. I thought she had the flu. Her husband came home and found her. She had a heart attack and died in her sleep. She and I were conspiring to have a cheesecake dessert bar at our co-worker's bridal shower next week. I guess I will have to try my hand at her recipe.

So long, my friend. I will miss you.

Grab Bag

My laundry room was smelling seriously funky. Like moldy funky. Was the dryer vent thingy loose, letting in air from under the house? Was it the mountains of dirty boy laundry? Was it my worm composting system? So, we took the worms outside and sifted through the bedding. It didn't smell moldy or yucky, more like dirt. I washed mountains of laundry with lots and lots of fabric softener. I ran a empty cycle through my washer with practically a whole bottle of vinegar. No luck.

Then I wanted to bleach some white items that weren't so white anymore and I dumped far too much bleach into the machine and ran the cycle. This morning, the laundry room smells fresh and clean. Was my washer dirty? Weird.

~~~

I have been planning a beach vacation for literal months. Months! And it looks like it is going to freaking rain the entire time. My heart is broken. I was so set on seeing that beautiful green water. But it isn't green unless the sun is shining.

So I have spent some time seeing about indoor attractions. But it is just not the same, you know?

~~~

My wacky husband has been trying to cheer me with ridiculous jokes from the internet. Like:

He is so strange.

Sense

Ever notice that big choices are like crossroads? Sometimes there is a Choice. A fork in the road. And once that decision is made, going back and choosing the other path is difficult. Maybe impossible. As we get older, we understand that deciding to do one thing means we can't do something else.

If I am a postal delivery person, it is unlikely that I will ever be an astronaut. If I am a parent/partner, I cannot move to France by myself, take up smoking and black dresses, and write moody poetry. At some point a choice or series of choices has determined who and what we are. Going back isn't feasible. Every choice is choosing not to do something else. Every choice is closing a door, a leap of faith.

I am at a crossroads. I see benefit and struggle down each path. And I am just trying to make enough sense of it all to choose.

No!

Scooter is just getting yummier by the day. He has delicious chubby little arms and legs and tummy. And big fat cheeks when he smiles. He is so cute!

He is also very very good at saying "No." His little mouth makes a little 'o' that matches he emphatic little 'o' eyes. It isn't a rambling no-no-no. It is a direct answer to a question. "Scooter, do you want a bean?" "No." (Although frequently, he will take the bean afterwards.)

My mother thinks this is the saddest thing ever. A baby who goes around saying no! Because all he ever hears is no! Roadblocks and negativity litter his poor little life. No. No. No. But this is actually not true. Sure, he hears the word a lot, but it is not usually directed at him. He is at the sitter with two 3 year olds, one of whom is exceptionally naughty, and Jelly, who is no novice at naughtiness himself. And he lives with Jelly. Jelly, he hears the word "no" a lot. Mostly because he is tromping through the house hollering like he is being chased by a herd of baby elephants on a rampage. Or is, perhaps, pretending to be that same angry hoard. That gets a "no". Brother gets told "no" too, particularly when he is begging for me to buy him a Beyblade off ebay that is shipped from Hong Kong and is likely to be full of Chinese lead, kill my babies, and write run on sentences. "No."

Scooter, however, is still enjoying the cutie-baby-can-do-no-wrong stage. Literally, we caught him in the bathroom practically hidden in a mound of unrolled toilet paper. Did we fuss? No, we took a picture.

Yes.

Ok

This morning I got on the scale. It reads 20 lbs less than it did on May 31st when I started. I would be a liar if I said I wasn't pleased with myself. I am. But I haven't wanted to talk about it a whole lot because I don't want to spend my life focusing on food and exercise. Yes, I eat differently now. Yes, I exercise more than I used to, but still wish I did more. If I keep losing weight at this approximate rate, I should be at my goal by 2012. That would be really nice, but I am counting on slowing down during the holidays. These things just happen. Really, I am the same person. Just with a slightly smaller pant size and less heartburn and not so much cake. I still want french fries and fried chicken a lot. Sometimes I get them and sometimes I choose something else.

I guess what I am trying to say is, I was ok before. I am ok now. I will be ok in 4-6 months. I get tired of the idea of one beauty. It is oppressive. It sucks away my soul to think that there is only one way to look to be beautiful and that is a size 0 with DD boobs. Something I will never ever be. I would also be a liar if I said I didn't sometimes believe in the twiggy mythology. But I always think about that post and realize that I don't want to spend all my energy focusing on one thing that is going to turn to dust eventually. (Know what? That is not the exact right post. Can't find it...)

And you might disagree with me. You might feel differently. That is ok, too. There is room for all kinds of differences in the world, even belief differences. I think we would all be happier if we could just accept how we look today, in these jeans and those flip-flops and say, "Today, I am ok."

Toofers

Jelly Bean and Brother went to the dentist yesterday. Brother is old hat about the routine at the dentist, even though he did have a cavity. (He has really craggy teeth that are hard to brush properly, apparently.) But for the first time, Jelly Bean let them clean his teeth and the dentist do an examination! He has been brought to the dentist and flat out refused to cooperate at least 3 times before this. And I have been giving him pep talks and reading dentist-y books to him for about a year. It didn't make a difference at the last appointment. No matter what Elmo said, he wasn't sitting in that chair.

This time I tried a new approach. I didn't talk about being scared. I didn't leave room for discomfort. I told him he was a big boy, almost 5 years old, and it was time to get his teeth cleaned. The end. When he would dither, I would firmly, without emotion, tell him he was doing it. He was a big boy now. The end. And it worked! He was leery at the beginning, so I picked his butt up and put him in the chair. We pointed out the TV mounted on the ceiling and it was smooth sailing from there on out. Whew. I am so relieved.

The dentist also said, as he has been saying for years, that we needed to think about taking Brother to the orthodontist. I figured as much. I had braces and Brother's teeth when he was little are a lot like mine were. But due to complications due to moving, I started getting my teeth fixed and then in the middle, the braces came off to be put back on when I was 12 or 13. They really hurt, you know. I was a giant baby about it even when I was a teenager and I worry that 10 is too young to handle it. Brother says he wants to wait until he is in high school, but I can't help but think that he might actually want to have them over and done with by then. (Mine came off the day before 10th grade, which I thought was awesome.) But there is also an issue of cost. Jeez! I thought $3000-4000. But looks like the median price in my area is somewhere around $6000+. I had no idea it went up so much.

Do your kids need braces? What is your master plan?

Evening

This evening I had a massage scheduled. I had bought a Groupon for $30 that was for an hour-long massage in our town about two weeks ago. I had a massage once before at one of the local spas and wasn't overly impressed with the experience. When today rolled around, I couldn't remember why I felt like this was a good idea. I was pretty nervous.

I was even MORE nervous when I learned that the studio was in someone's home. Before I left, I showed Honey my certificate so he could find my body if I didn't make it home alive. (Hello, melodrama.) The house wasn't very far from mine at all, but our town is pretty small. It was 150 year old yellow house with a tiled fountain in the backyard and a beautiful deck. The masseuse led me into the studio and gave me some instructions on where to put my clothing and such. There was a nice table-top fountain in the room as well. The water sounds coupled with the music she had chosen made for a nice relaxing atmosphere. The sheets were warmed, pale blue and silky. I would say the only drawback was that throughout the process, there were some home-sounds. Opening and shutting of doors. A few snippets of conversation. The sounds of a dog walking down the hallway. Even so, it was a nice experience and I am really glad I went.

My actual favorite part was when she walked me out to my car. She had a couple of hens that had come onto her back deck and I said how I liked her chickens. Then she pointed up into the twisted and curved branches of the 150 year old live oak in her backyard and sure enough, there was a Bantam rooster looking down on us! She said something like at 6 o'clock every evening, there was the 'throwing of the chickens'. I couldn't fathom what she had meant by that...but as I walked to my car, I turned around and saw my masseuse picking up the hens and gently tossing them into the live oak. They ruffled their feathers in a chicken parody of flying and ended up next to the rooster, a good 20-25 feet off the ground.

I laughed softly to myself as I got in my car and thought, "Only here."

Unload

Tomorrow is the illustrious Birthday Party! I am so ready to get it over with. I keep fantasizing about Sunday and how It Will All Be Over and I won't have to figure out decorations (Gods, do we have enough tape?) or food (We still don't know where we are ordering pizza from!) or whether I should get the boys a present (Um, no. The freaking party is the present. But I did get them cards lest I be deemed a horrible mother by my own mother.) All we will have to do is...clean up. But cleaning is usually not big in my life and I am not stressed about it. I think.

I want to take pictures of all the stuff to show you guys. Balloons and banners and everything. Wait until you see the shirts I had made for the boys! Aw, so cute. :) We did the cake smash pictures last weekend! Ooooo, I am so anxious to see the proofs. I am slightly concerned they won't come out. Or the pictures of all three boys won't come out. But I just have to hope the photographer knew what she was doing. Or! If she didn't! I will just take the boys to Sears and be done with it.

After this weekend, I can focus on getting ready for our beach trip. I hope it will be relaxing. I want it to be restful, but I am not thinking that Jelly and Scooter are going to do well in strange surroundings. Scooter doesn't sleep through the night as it is and Jelly has been waking up at 5:30 AM lately. (OMG Kill me.) We all have nice swimsuits and expensive sunblock for sensitive babies. We need some sand toys, but I am hoping the party will provide. And maybe another floatie thing or two. Anyway, I will worry about it Later.

What do you guys have in the works for the weekend or beyond?

Surprise?

As you know, we have been planning a big birthday party for weeks. Because I decided to be lame and choose a neutral "Happy Birthday!" theme, I think I might have over compensated in a few ways. Like...

A bubble machine

A balloon artist

Face painting

Giant lollypops with custom stickers and ribbon for favors...

Combo bouncer/waterslide

Tons of carnival games

Helium tank for lots and lots of balloons

THREE cakes (Two small cakes: one for Scooter and one for Jelly. And a sheet cake for the guests. We will sing to each child individually.)

So, apparently all the party talk is not nearly enough for Jelly Bean. He tells me the other day that he wants me to get everyone to jump out and yell "SURPRISE!" for him at the party.

Ok, look. I think that might be going a bit far.

Special

Today, the middle of the week, a Wednesday, is our wedding anniversary.

We were married on a Wednesday on the beach at sunset. The mid-week location wedding made quite a few people goggle at us as if we had no idea what we were doing. We didn't, of course. The only people I really cared about being there was my parents and my son. Even so, my childhood best friend drove over right after getting off of a plane from Europe. My grandparents drove from Ohio. (My grandmother tried to talk us into going to the Golden Corral for our wedding dinner/reception. "Misty! They have steak and chicken. You can get whatever you want! It's Dee-licious!)

I did my own flowers and they were beautiful. A tightly packed bouquet of red and white rose buds that was bigger than my head. I also made corsages/boutonnieres for just about everyone who came. My grandfather wore shorts and sandals. Honey and I wore no shoes at all at his personal request. We had a violinist to play while I walked down to the beach. While I could see him, I don't remember anything of what it sounded like because of the crashing of the waves. It felt almost like we were alone on the sand. We wrote our own wedding ceremony. I forgot the cues and kissed him twice. It was a really special day that didn't actually change our relationship. I think that is a mark of a good marriage.

I love you. You are my best friend. Today I give myself to you in marriage. I promise to encourage and inspire you, to laugh with you, and to comfort you in times of sorrow and struggle. I promise to love you in good times and in bad, when life seems easy and when it seems hard, when our love is simple, and when it is an effort. I promise to cherish you, and to always hold you in highest regard. These things I give to you today, and all the days of our life.

Just as this ring I give you today is a circle without end, my love for you is eternal.
Just as it is made of incorruptible substance, my commitment to you will never fail.

Va-cay

I have a hand-wringing confession.

I want to take Jelly and Brother on a Disney vacation...but not Scooter. Oh, I just feel AWFUL even writing that. I do want to take Scooter! I do! He is cute and cuddly and my little baby and I love him so much. The thought of being away from him makes me feel weird and floaty and not-so-good. But he is too little and needs to nap and it is no fun going to Disney with little tiny kids. (I once took Brother on a cruise when he was 1. That was no picnic either.) I want to go and stay out late and be able to see the fireworks and parades and eat dinner like a normal person. We took Jelly when he was 6 months and when he was 3 (Fun Fact: I started this blog on a Disney trip.) And Jelly h.a.t.e.d. it with unbridled passion. He was the saddest little boy at Disney World, I swear. It was no fun. He was exhausted and yoinked out of his routine and animatronic stuff is scary....

There is a 10 year age gap between Brother and Scooter and I want to take Brother before he gets to be at the age where going to Disney with your mom and dad and kid brother is completely uncool and if he does deign to go, he will not want to stay with us and experience Disney Magic. And I want to take Jelly when he is just at the right age to love it and dispel the ghosts of Crappy-Disney-Trips Past. So I am considering leaving the baby with my mother while we go "do Disney" just for like 3-4 days. I...am not sure I have it in me.

I want to go. I don't want to wait 3+ years to do it... Hm. What would you do?

Let go

"We seldom think of what we have but always of what we lack."

— Arthur Schopenhauer

I read this quote this morning and immediately thought of my credit card bill. It is payday and I have been anxiously going down my list of bills to pay. Check! Check! Check-a-roonie! I love paying bills. I have no idea why. It is my drug. I pay bills with religious conviction. It supports a feeling of "Hey! Look at me! I am a good citizen living within my means (f0r the most part)! Gooooo Credit Score!" Which makes me a total asshole, I know. But we have been unemployed a good bit in the past couple years, so I know what it is like to have the shoe on the other foot. Still, since paying bills is mostly a private thing and this is my private feeling about it, I assume no harm done to the world at large.

Except. Except!

The bedamned birthday party is sucking away all my money wahhhhhh. I am eyeing the college fund because I need a few hundred more dollars to put on the credit card so that we won't have to pay any interest. (Won't! I Won't! Do! It! ...Ok. I might.) Then comes this quote. I am focusing on what I am lacking, not what I have. We have two good, relatively stable jobs. We are healthy and able to work. We are able to pay all of our bills, even if I wish I could pay more on the debt. I already put a ton of money on the card. If I have to pay interest this one month, it will be ok. Next payday, I will have it all taken care of, no problem. Sometimes you need a little help. Sometimes you just need to let go.

Will I ever learn my lesson when it comes to birthday parties? Methinks no...

Squeaky

I took the day off of work today because tomorrow is pictures and next week is the party, so there was some cleaning to be done. I know I have mentioned it and you may get tired of me reiterating, but truth sometimes tends towards redundancy: I am a terrible housekeeper.

I enlisted my mother to come spend the day with me...cleaning my house...as she has Fridays off. She cheerfully accepted. She had just been gone on a long trip to Ohio as her mother is dying and she wanted to spend some time with her. I missed her while she was gone. My mother is a very broad stroke kind of person. She can paint an entire room in an hour. It might be messy, but she can get it done. My father calls her a bull in a china shop. She doesn't have patience for lines at amusement parks or waiting for a table at a restaurant. She doesn't have patience for details. But that is ok! She cleans good enough for my taste, for the most part, and is good company.

We chatted about this and that while folding laundry. Even with her help after 6 hours, everything is still not done. When she left, I gave her a big hug and thanked her for her help. I am so glad she was able to give me a day for this. *Sigh* I don't know how people manage to keep everything in some semblance of order. I still have boxes of junk that need to be sorted through and most of it tossed. I still have at least 3 loads of laundry awaiting me. And I didn't get anything done in the yard. Honey bought me some flowers and a beautiful Crepe Myrtle to put on our front lawn. (Strangely enough, when looking for an image, there is an astounding number of scantily clad women in front of Crepe Myrtles on Google images. Why? It is not a sports car. Is the Crepe Myrtle a tree of ill repute?)

Sometimes I really love our house. Especially when it is clean.

Yum

Today, I am to compare myself to a single food. What am I most like? Crispy, crunchy, sour, sweet, tangy, soft and chewy? I had to think about it for a while.

Self, shall I compare thee to a....pickle?

A vegetable grown in the sun. Photosynthesis and green chlorophyll. Gaining nutrients from the earth, a food for more than just humans. A tiny part of an ecosystem that is a backyard garden. Doused in harsh acid, herbs, and spices and left to marinate until, while deliciously biting and snappy, unrecognizable from that original vegetable.

Or, perhaps, a cupcake?

A sweet fluffy confection mostly dolled up for special occasions. Not really part of a set food group and offering little to no substantive nutritional value. Delicate. Pretty. Fun. While technically is supposed to be a single serving, highly enjoyable to eat in vast quantities, although guilt will presumably follow, accompanied by a tummy ache.

Maybe a raisin?

Grown on a vine with a multitude of brethren. Plucked and dried until wrinkled and tough. All moisture removed. Sugars concentrated. Either loved or hated and served commonly with floury baked goods, apples, and spice.

Bread.

A conglomerate of ingredients, mixed and mixed, and pushed down to simply rise up again. Exact temperatures, moisture, and yeast needed to assure a good rise. Baked in a hot oven and transformed from gummy lump to something that is delicious with butter and jam.

I can't actually pick one that is all "me." I think I am a buffet. A little of this, a little of that. Nothing in extreme quantities. The yucky stuff is easily passed over until the more yummy portions have been all eaten up. But when you are hungry, you get what you get.

What kind of food are you?

Turn of Phrase

Do you have a catchphrase? There are things I say all the time that people who know me identify specifically with me. I am fond of "Correlation does not equal causation," which is totally stolen from Honey, but I use it way more often. Also, "Nothing exists in a vacuum," which I got from an old college professor. I also have a tendency to use the number 8 in hyperbole/complaining a lot. Don't ask me why. I am not particularly fond of the number 8, perhaps this is why I use it negatively so often. "I asked you to do that 18 times!" (More like 2-3.) "It took you 8 days to get home!" (Try 20 minutes.) "You were in the bathroom for 80 minutes!" (This one is actually true. We have a marathon pooper in our house. I won't say who.)

I have a good friend who I like to steal wisdom from. She says things like:

"There are as many ways to live as there are people in the world."

"Spend your money on experiences, not things."

"It would be great if (fill in the blank). But it's not. Oh well!"

"Children need love most when they deserve it the least."

I had a great-grandmother who used to say, "What you put in your head, no one can take away from you," and "If you use a pencil, it is going to leave a mark!" That last one was about unintended pregnancy, I think. Good Grief, Granny!

What snippets of wisdom do you have floating around in your head, slipping into your speech and coloring your thought processes?

Future

I have spent a bit of time today getting my financial house in order, making a few different decisions to give us a bit of breathing room. Planning better for the future. Starting to save in certain categories for holiday spending, vacations, once a year insurance payments, bills that are not monthly, etc. I want to pay off the loan we got for the addition to the house and the car within a year. Then, I want to start on the mortgage with the goal of having it paid off in less than 5 years. I want a better future for our family.

We talk about when the kids are in high school and what we would like for them. I started working when I was 15, but Honey didn't work until he was out of high school. I am unsure of whether I want my kids to work early. I think it does cultivate responsibility, but also, there are just a few short years in which to be a kid. I want them to play in the band or on the soccer team. I want them to be able to study during normal hours. I want them to be able to take honors classes and keep up with the coursework and focus on writing scholarship essays to earn money for college. I pulled more all-nighters in high school than I did in college due to my work-and-church schedule.

But I do wonder that if we provide things like cars and car insurance and help with college funding (my parents didn't do any of that - I paid for it all) that this will lead to them not taking their studies seriously or lead to them not developing a good work ethic. I want them to have the opportunities we didn't have, to not come out of college saddled with so much debt, to have a better start than we did.

It is hard to know what to do as a parent. I don't believe my parents were mistaken about how they handled these issues for me. I am incredibly independent and solution-focused. I have a good work ethic. But I do wish I had more time in high school to just be a kid. I never felt like a kid, leaving the house before 6:30 in the morning and getting home after 11 to a pile of homework. I had a lot on my plate and stepped up to the challenge responsibly. I honestly don't know how I did it all.

We are going to have to let the future play out as it will. The right decision is hard to make 6-7 years in advance. Brother right now WANTS to work when he is old enough and I don't think I have it in me to tell him he can't if that is what he wants. I guess I just want to leave room for him not to sling burgers or wait tables and really focus on enjoying the time when he is still in our care.

Organize

I have this nasty habit. It will be my downfall, for sure.

I like to volunteer for stuff. I tell other people I will do stuff. But almost even worse, I tell myself I will do stuff. And sometimes I get it done and sometimes I flake out on myself, which I hate with the utmost contempt. I see myself as a "goal-accomplisher." Unfortunately sometimes I get a bit ahead of myself and occasionally make goals that are in conflict with one another.

A small sliver of things I have said I was going to do:

• Have a kick-ass dual birthday party. This is going relatively well. However, as always, costing more than I had planned. I still have to do party favors and finish the banners. Oh, and clean my chronically nasty house.
• Go to the beach. We have a condo paid for, but I have to take the car to get serviced and buy beach toys and food and floaties and a hundred other things I am simply forgetting right about now.
• Pay off our debt in less than a year. And yet, I keep freaking spending money on parties and beach trips and school supplies.
• Exercise more often. I got a yoga DVD that I am liking, but it is hard to get to sleep at a normal hour and/or relax when small children are getting out of bed for the 40th time.
• Blog daily. I recently read the Happiness Project and Gretchen says it is easier to do something daily than every few days. I am finding this to be true. I found a blog that does writing prompts to help and am pleased with the result thus far.
• Make sure the sitter has adequate supplies to essentially homeschool Jelly Bean and the other two little boys. This has me finding and making worksheets and laminating and buying crayons and making plans for storytimes and crafts and learning videos....gah.

The last one is quite ambitious. I do have a regular JOB that I am supposed to be doing. Plus, I still haven't accomplished all my New Year's resolutions or even put much effort towards them. Bleh. With all of its various tasks and preparations. What I really need is some sort of organizational system where I can make a listing of tasks and subtasks. Check off what has been done and be able to clearly see what remains. I have never been much of a list maker, but I think it is time to organize. What do you do to keep everything in order?

Let's Talk About...

After the snafu with the daycare last winter, we moved the kids to home care with one of the ladies who had been Jelly's teacher since he was 2. I really love her and know she works really hard to deal with my persnickety ways. There is a slight issue in that her house is 17 minutes from mine and 15 minutes from my office. I guess in the grand scheme of life that is small potatoes, but it is double what the commute time from the daycare was.

This gives Jelly opportunities to grill me for information.

Every day, we get in the car and he says, "Let's talk about _______!" And what he means is, "Mother, tell me everything you can think of about a particular subject. I shall offer no input whatsoever."

When he was a bit younger, he wanted to talk about alligators a lot. They are reptiles. They are cold-blooded. The definition of cold-blooded. What other animals are cold-blooded. What is warm-blooded? Name the animals that fall into that category. Where do alligators live? What do they eat? Are the carnivorous or omnivorous. etc. etc. etc.

We also have Let's Talk About conversations about restaurants and street signs and soccer and Pokemon (oh, I hate the last one.) I wonder if this is the 4-year-old version of "Why?" And sometimes I really would just like to listen to the radio and concentrate on not getting us killed with all of the construction they are doing on the roads. Instead I should focus on this gift. For a small window of time, he wants to know what I have to say and what I think about the world. And he is hanging on my every word.

Once more...

The other night I decided to have a spat with my husband over something that really didn't even matter. Namely, whether or not we are done having babies. His answer is we are absolutely done having babies. Me, I am not so sure. Sometimes I am sure. And sometimes I am not. Mostly I just wanted to talk about it. For some reason, I want him to be ambivalent, like me...leaning towards the "we are done" camp, but not lounging in his already constructed tent, roasting marshmallows in his rock-lined established firepit, lazily gazing at the cord of firewood that will keep through the winter.

So, I basically pick a fight with him. I ask him questions I already know the answers to, and then get put-out when he says what I already know he is going to say. Why? I am clearly torturing myself. I want him to sympathize with me. Understand how I feel and why I feel that way. Also, I want him to feel that way a little, too. Really, most of the time, I am putting up firewood with him in the "we are done" camp. I am clearing out baby stuff, trying to sell the bassinet. Giving away the expensive custom made baby-wearing slings and wraps I had made when I was pregnant. Making plans to buy gifts for other people's new babies. Selecting the few precious outfits I will be buried with. The bear overalls all three boys came home from the hospital in. The outfits they all wore for their 1-month pictures. The receiving blanket I used for all three boys.

Sometimes I think I *might* have a niggling feeling deep down that someone is missing. A little blond girl with pigtails. Someone to practice my mad french braiding skills on. Someone to be my daughter. I keep the names we picked to name the boys if they were girls in my heart, turning them like smooth stones. Maia Michelle. Eleanor Caite. Lily Ava. But we all know that even if we did have another baby, no one is promising me a daughter. And I do feel like all my sons are here and I really do love them so much. It is all for the best, really.

When I get all conflicted inside, there are a few things I tell myself.

• Since I was a teenager, I wanted to be done having kids by the time I was 30. Goal accomplished, and I love accomplishing goals.
• The combination of my and Honey's genes are prone to making lovely little allergic children. I really think what we have to deal with is enough on that front.
• Three sets of college tuition is plenty. As is three sets of soccer lessons and first dates and driver's ed.
• Surely out of all these boys, someone will give me a granddaughter. Right?

So, we are probably not going to do this once more. But sometimes you need to feel sad for a bit before you can accept the closing of a door. I just need to focus on what makes the "camp" we have chosen wonderful and leave the "what ifs" behind.

Laugh

During my undergraduate degree, I had the opportunity to take a class on Shakespeare's Tragedies. Oh, man was I excited for that class. I emailed the professor a month before the semester started to ask which plays he was going to cover so that I could get a head start on my reading. Shakespeare! Shall I compare thee to a summer's day...

I never did get a reply to that email. The professor ended up being one of the most memorable of my college career (Graduate AND Undergrad) because he was a demon, When he would walk down the hall, we would turn and walk in the other direction, literally. No no no, he was not particularly difficult to please, he was just evil incarnate. My classmates and I used to call him Satan. He was prone to making vast generalizations about the world, and I quote: "All fat people are lazy." "You all are so stupid, I don't know why you bother being alive." etc. He was married to the department head, so no one bothered reporting him. Plus, he wasn't even an English professor, but a Communications professor. He spent inordinate amounts of time making us watch old Japanese movies of Macbeth where the characters were all in Samurai costumes. He insisted that you could not understand Shakespeare unless it was being performed. As a class full of English Lit majors, a good bit of us disagreed.

The class was so different from what I expected. But I did take away a lot...mostly because I couldn't believe it was being said. One particular thing has stuck in my mind. This professor said that laughter was a feeling of superiority. Whenever you laugh at someone, it is because their behavior is something you would never do or see yourself above doing. If you could identify with the behavior, you would empathize and not laugh.

Now, I am sure there are lots of exceptions to this rule. Like laughing from pure joy. I laughed when Brother was born. When I saw his little purple self for the first time. Or when you are just happy to be with someone. Or even laughing from having fun, like maybe on a roller coaster. I always get the giggles on roller coasters. It is interesting to think about and a lot of research has been done on laughter. It is a stress response and a coping mechanism. There is a Wikipedia entry and tons of quotes regarding laughter. While far smarter people than me have spent tons of time thinking about laughter, I would just be happy doing it more often.

And so! I will share with you my favorite joke:

Two muffins were in the oven.

First muffin says, "Whew! It's hot in here!"

Second muffin says, "OH MY GOD! A TALKING MUFFIN!"

(Insert Laugh)

Heavyweight

I wanted to post something airy and light today. A cute story. A funny joke. Like how Scooter was so lazy this morning, he laid his head on his tray this morning and tried to lick up his Cheerios.

It is easy to be heavy, hard to be light.

I want to be able to smirk at the future with an ironic grin that says, "Take your best shot. You can't best me." I want that confidence.

It is easy to be heavy, hard to be light.

I want to lower my "give-a-shit" factor so I don't have panic attacks by simply reading the news. I want to be full of happy memories and fun. I want to be the kind of person that not only everyone wants to be around, but that *I* want to be around.

It is easy to be heavy, hard to be light.

It is much easier for me to tell you that we had Scooter's 1 month check up and he couldn't get any of his scheduled vaccines due to the diagnosis of the egg allergy. And that he has slipped on the growth chart into the 3rd percentile from the 30th just a few months ago and the Allergist hasn't explained anything properly to anyone and we have to bulk up his diet with I-don't-know-what-just-yet and go back in two weeks. And how I just want to cry and cry and I wonder how you all do it. How you make sure everyone is well fed, well educated, well rounded with adequate social activities and exercise and everything else a little human being needs to grow.

Looking in from the outside, parenting never looks this damn hard.

It is easy to be heavy, hard to be light.

I need some new coping mechanisms. Maybe I can start with reason: I know this is just a phase of growth, that is why it seems so hard. We will figure it out. We will soon know what to do. People do this everyday. We can do it, too.

Rivalry

I had a hard time getting to sleep on Saturday night and had to get up at 6 AM with the baby on Sunday morning. (Honey gets up with him and Jelly on Saturday mornings.) Scooter is still nursing twice a night, so this isn't helping my rest. I can't remember when last I slept 8 hours solid. I was so exhausted on Sunday morning that I ached from head to toe and felt nauseated. Do you ever get that tired? When Honey got up, I went back to bed. For nearly 4 hours.

This made going to bed on Sunday night very difficult, right? So when an hour past bedtime rolled around, I took a Benedryl to help me sleep. I still got up with Scooter all night long, but in the in between times, I was able to rest. However when it was time to get up, I was still wrapped in luxurious drug-induced coma. Honey started wrestling children through the morning routine and I just laid there through the stomping and the running, mostly still asleep. (I realize this isn't a very positive portrait of me. Don't judge. I'm tired.) And then the yelling starts two feet from my open bedroom door....

Brother: Will you get out of the bathroom? I have to brush my teeth!

Jelly: ME FIRST!

Brother: FINE! Hurry up! Hurry UP! BRUSH YOUR TEETH!

Me: HOLYGODPEOPLE, WHAT ARE YOU DOING? STOP YELLING!

And then I crashed back into my pillow. Brother has a hard row to hoe. He is expected to look out for his little brothers, but then tends to be overly harsh with Jelly and veers into 'parenting' him. Only Brother's 'parenting' has basically no patience whatsoever and boy howdy does parenting Jelly require patience. Yes it does. It is not really unusual that Brother hasn't got this down. He's 10. And Jelly loves Brother the way a cat loves your black slacks. With an oozy, flowing let-me-rub-against-you-and-touch-you-even-though-you'd-rather-I-didn't feel to it. So there is much bickering, even though despite the 6 year age difference, they play together a lot, too.

And then you see Brother with Scooter. I love to look at his face when he is looking at the baby. It softens noticeably. He loves to hold the baby and play with the baby. (This is a relief to me because when I told him we were going to have another baby, he literally cried and said, "How could you do this to us?!? For reals.) Brother is very stern with Jelly (um, duh) when Jelly manhandles Scooter. Jelly wants to play! with the baby! too! Scooter mostly looks like a cat you are trying to bathe when Jelly plays with him. Like: "I don't know what is happening, but I know I don't like it and I can't figure out how to get away."

Is this what they mean by sibling rivalry? The constant yelling, hugging, bickering, and softness? Rough and tumble mixed with genuine affection, sometimes perhaps a bit too much? I don't actually know. I am an only child. My parents used to tell me they felt sorry for me. That I had missed so much. I think you can never miss what you haven't had, but I can imagine how things might have been if I had had siblings. The pleasant and not so pleasant; the mundane and the extraordinary, the having a witness to my childhood and having someone who might have looked like me in the world. I am glad we decided to have these brothers. These little boys with will fight and argue and hug and make up. Who will apologize and then run out and do it again. They won't have to imagine what it would be like to have a sibling. What a miracle, right?

Frame, Reframe

I remember learning about frames in my high school English class. A literary device used to contain a story. "A narrative structure that provides a setting and exposition for the main narrative in a novel." It is one of my favorite ways of controlling the perception of a story. Frames help us see things in certain ways. They can be our coping mechanisms.

When I was a kid, my mother, father, and myself moved to a state we had never even set foot. Literally, we got out an atlas when we heard of the job transfer because it was so far away and so far outside of where we planned to travel. It was a really difficult experience to go from being surrounded by family to having not even a single friend. My folks aren't the social types. They did not set out to build us a safety net or a community. They did not make friends or join a faith. It was just us.

In some ways, this ended up being a positive thing. When you are cast out into a foreign land (Believe me, the South IS foreign), you tend to cling to what you know. While we would venture out to plantation homes and try new seafood dishes, we would also celebrate holidays by making traditional family recipes and remembering when so-and-so made scalloped potatoes for the first time. Or how that cousin would only eat applesauce and corn. We became really close. Perhaps this move made me closer to my parents than I would have been otherwise. They were my source for just about everything for a long time. My relationship with them is still a mainstay for me.

Still, I miss having a family, even if not my particular family. (When you grow, you can see how crazypants people are. I think it is easier to recognize from a distance.) I found a close social network in a church when I was a teenager, but became disenchanted at a later point in time. Because of my time there, I will probably never be comfortable in any faith setting and would certainly not be looking for 'family' there. After I met Honey, I figured this would be my chance to have a family. For my son(s) to have a close family with grandparents, aunts, uncles, and cousins. But it just hasn't worked out that way. I am finally figuring out that, after 7 years, it is just not working out the way I thought it would. There are no family reunions. Or plans for Thanksgiving together. Or birthday cards from Granny with $2 in them. Or notification when someone is going to be in town. We are the black sheep.

While the frame to this story currently is me hoping to gain back a family to replace the one I had to leave behind, I need a re-frame. You know what I can do about other people's behavior? Exactly nothing. However, I can do something about my own behavior and thought processes. As a counselor friend is known to say: It would be wonderful if they were engaged and interested and called on your kids' birthdays! But they are not those sorts of folks. Oh well! I can still pay attention to my nieces, even if I rarely see them, through birthday gifts and Christmas cards. I want to be remembered as someone who showed them kindness, even if I didn't see them all that often. When I am blessed with grandchildren of my own, I will be sure to make an effort to be part of their lives. I want to be the grandma who they see multiple times a month but still sends a clipping from the Sunday comics and a stick of bubble gum through the mail as a reminder: I love you. I think of you. You are important to me. I want to be the granny who takes the grandkids on vacations to Disney. I will be involved as much as I am allowed without squashing parental toes.

Sometimes when things are going crappily, all I need is a reframe. The story was told in one way, but now I am going to change the language and the structure. Transform it from a tragic melodrama into a morality tale. A fable to help guide my steps...

Ready. Set. Go.

If I have to do any more Google searches on allergen free recipes and products, I am going to sit here and cry at my computer. I spent so much time wishing and hoping that it wasn't true, that I didn't mentally prepare for "after the allergy tests."

Milk. Eggs. Soy. Peanut.

When I started crying in the doctor's office over what the hell I was supposed to do for Scooter's first birthday cake, the nurse practitioner looked at me like I was crazy. She said, "His tongue isn't swelling up, his airways aren't closing, it's ok!" Honest? This did not make me feel better. Sure. There are worse cases, kids whose reactions even this young are more severe. But, hoo boy, just give it time. Allergies are tricky. They can intensify, they can change, then can disappear. But for now, for the next few years, things have to change. And I am not sure what this change is supposed to look like.

When I left the appointment, I felt even worse off than when I went in. Now I have no idea what to do. I feel paralyzed when it comes to making food choices for Scooter. How careful am I supposed to be? Is it like the peanut allergy, where I have to make sure my home, the sitter's home, and my parent's home is nut free? Are we allowed to have milk in the fridge? Is it enough for him not to touch it or consume it? What about cheese? Sour Cream? The eggs in the door? The nurse practitioner told me to go look at FAAN (which, don't you think I HAVE? I have a peanut allergic child. This isn't my first rodeo. Jesus.) and to food test the eggs and soy.

But I have no freaking clue how to do that. I am supposed to...give my kid the stuff he tested positive for? That sounds crazy. You don't food test nut allergies. I have no experience in this. What's more is that she wants ME to give up milk, eggs, soy, and peanuts because I am breastfeeding, even though we have seen him have ZERO reactions whatsoever to my diet. (Never, he was not a gassy, spit-up baby. No gastrointestinal distress, no hives. He has very very mild eczema, but that is it.) So, I am supposed to give my kid allergens straight up, but heaven forbid I put creamer in my coffee at work, lest it cause a reaction? Someone tell me I am not crazy.

I think it is ok for me to grieve. To be upset. And I will junk-punch anyone who tells me I am not allowed to feel the loss of milk and cereal and ranch dressing and baked goods and ice cream and restaurants. I don't do well when I feel out of control. When I feel ignorant. When I don't know the path forward. Trial and error is not the way I tend to function. I am a "research and pick the best path" kind of girl. But where to start? The internet is full of good and bad information and there is no one-size-fits-all.

Where to start.