Okay, I imagine myself as a fairly intelligent person. I can spell words over five letters, though I always wondered why vomiting has only one 't.' I can balance a checkbook. I can even manage new recipes with overly curious and too-zealous-to-cook toddlers tagging along. So do I blame the recent 'Oh Shit!' moments of 'Duh?' on lack of sleep or poor sleep or some mental erosion of the thought process? I'd like to think I could still act in an emergency, at least adequately enough to avoid harm to myself or those around me... I'd like to think...
So last week I brought the kids to Spring Brooks Park in Bedford. We're in the wading pool area and there's a mom with a bunch of kids around 3-5 and one 15 month-old. Yeah... Don't worry; everyone was okay. She parenting the 3-year-old when a woman yells from across (across!) the water, "Oh my God! Is he okay?!"
I'm 3 feet from the little one who's face down in the water with his little feet scrambling to grab the bottom. It's only about 18 inches deep at this point. I stared; in my mind I stuttered with what action to take.
Pick him up you idiot!
His mother crossed twice the distance (yes, she was that distant) and grabbed him. He was panicked but perfectly fine. She was astounded it even happened. I didn't know who to slap first. Thank God for the infant instinct to hold one's breath when water hits one's face. It's how those diehard swim instructors train 6 month-olds to swim.
Okay, I'm not too hard on myself for that non-reaction, but I'd have thought I'd have done better. I think what held me back was, "Oh, he'll freak if a stranger picks him up." Any thought besides Pick him up! is stupid really but I was over it soon enough. After all, it was one event. Well, then today happened.
I was cooking breakfast, scrambled eggs (might've had a few brain cells in the pan), when I noticed a little smoke. Looked like something was burning off the element. Lifted to check because what if it was something bigger, right? Nope, nothing. Eggs halfway there: tons of smoke.
Crap! Pull the pan off the- Holy F$@%!
A little campfire erupted on our stove. I can only say little since Jesse campfires are, well... So I brain-stutter and then turn off the element and try to formulate a thought while realizing the fire extinguisher is packed up downstairs.
Put... something... over... find... metal...
"JESSE!!"
Thank God he hadn't put his earplugs in for the day to sleep.
He came out groggily, "Wha...?"
"Fire on the stove!"
"Oh Shit!" He whipped out our big metal mixing bowl and smothered it in a second. Then the smoke detector went off.
"Thanks," I muttered to it.
He yanked it down, pulling out the batteries and opened all the windows and turned on the fan. I explained that I hadn't seen anything on the element or the frying pan to catch fire. He then lifted the bowl with oven mitts to find a pool of oil or grease in the base. Neither of us expected that. Needless to say the stove got pulled apart and cleaned tonight.
So next week we'll be away at Creation Northeast. May God help whoever has to save me or those around me then! Who knows? Maybe I'll have found my instincts by then. Best of luck to all in my presence!
Kitty Litter
Well, some of you might have heard we've 'rescued' a kitten. Really Jesse just got one and hid it in the backyard until I came home. Okay... supposedly she appeared on the back steps and really she's too cute to pass up. My daughter says she was a gift from Samuel (our sponsor child in Brazil) or that maybe she's Samuel's kitty and got lost. Yeah... cute honey but not so much. Long story short: did some research, figured she's about 8 weeks old, fed her some tuna (had nothing else and it was nighttime), made her a shoebox bed, and... drum roll... she has a name. It's over folks.
I was, however, the voice of reason and I did demand signs be made and posted about a 'Found Kitten.' I posted them this morning and we have a vet appointment Thursday afternoon. If we don't hear from anyone by then, we'll go ahead and call her our own. I kind of think she's already doing that. I know Bekah and Jesse are anyway. We have Kitten Chow and a disposable litter box now. I told the kids she was visiting until her mommy and daddy find her. If they didn't find her then we'd keep her but we couldn't buy her things until then. I am taken, but I'm also thinking ahead.
Trouble is, we wanted to have a dog and cat at the same time to let them equally become part of the family. We also wanted to wait for the kids to be old enough to help take care of them. Did I lose out here? Yeah kind of since I now want a puppy, but I don't imagine that's going to appear on the back steps anytime soon. Oh well, one pet at a time I guess. Really I wanted a dog and Jesse wanted a cat... I suppose the boy was overdue for a break.
I was, however, the voice of reason and I did demand signs be made and posted about a 'Found Kitten.' I posted them this morning and we have a vet appointment Thursday afternoon. If we don't hear from anyone by then, we'll go ahead and call her our own. I kind of think she's already doing that. I know Bekah and Jesse are anyway. We have Kitten Chow and a disposable litter box now. I told the kids she was visiting until her mommy and daddy find her. If they didn't find her then we'd keep her but we couldn't buy her things until then. I am taken, but I'm also thinking ahead.
Trouble is, we wanted to have a dog and cat at the same time to let them equally become part of the family. We also wanted to wait for the kids to be old enough to help take care of them. Did I lose out here? Yeah kind of since I now want a puppy, but I don't imagine that's going to appear on the back steps anytime soon. Oh well, one pet at a time I guess. Really I wanted a dog and Jesse wanted a cat... I suppose the boy was overdue for a break.
Ingredients for the Perfect Smile
Today we had more Adventures in Baking with Bekah and VJ. I turned my head for a second (you just uhoh'ed, right?) and Bekah had unraveled the sugar bag and stuffed a fistful in her mouth. Yeaaahhhh.... like she needs it. After a great day at the park with our moms' group, the day went downhill in the way of tantrums and the like. On the flip side the cookies were a huge hit at work. What's more is that I'm planning on doing some more baking on a regular basis, which means getting a better handle on the lit'uns' attitudes.
Well that's one challenge; another is finding more weekend in the weekend. This past weekend was, well, less than thrilling. Bills weren't tight; they were screwed. We didn't have enough. Period. Jesse, in desperation, picked up a last minute overtime shift. That was Saturday evening/night. To no surprise he was crap on Sunday. I wanted to be mad at him (I was sort of), but I couldn't really be. I made him choose whether or not to take the shift and I knew we needed it. I had to do a lot of sighing and think, This isn't forever. Next weekend maybe we'll get to see that movie that came out last Friday that we've been dying to see. All it's going to take is a babysitter, but it's hard to ask sometimes.
Another challenge: Deciding when to ask, what to ask, how often to ask, because we really do need to ask sometimes. Whether it's a few hours of babysitting, some time to hang out, or even money, it's hard to ask all the time. Don't get me wrong: we don't ask for money. Sometimes I feel like we might as well sometimes though. My parents are paying for the rooms when we go to my cousin's wedding in Annapolis this summer with the notion that we'll pay what we can towards it. Really, if they were a business and we were clients, we'd be beyond collection. I can only hope we'll be able to help our kids out like this someday, or at least pay back my parents somehow... with the hopes that our children won't need the help.
So I guess it's all in mindset and attitude. When she shoved that fistful of sugar in her mouth, two things needed to happen: I needed to not freak on her and she needed repercussions to enforce that it was not okay. We skipped her turn and she freaked, but I ignored her cries and settled them when her next turn came along. I chose to not physically drag the BFF from bed to watch the movie we'd Red-boxed Sunday night and fought to not be too disappointed in our lack of weekend. The week goes by pretty quickly. I know if we miss seeing this movie in the theaters we can Red-box it later (although if opportunity arises we will find a sitter). We are blessed with a house, beautiful and healthy children, supportive parents, and a truly great friendship. Jesse and I may tease the crap out of each, but he's the first one I go to when I'm uncertain of anything. We vent to one another, lean on each other, and really couldn't imagine anyone else putting up with our personalities. When we have time, we can still laugh, still sigh, still talk about our kids' latest bizarre moments, and we're still in love in a world where that's a shady subject.
So I got a little corny at the end... What'd you expect with a title like that? Okay so what am I going to bake next...?
Well that's one challenge; another is finding more weekend in the weekend. This past weekend was, well, less than thrilling. Bills weren't tight; they were screwed. We didn't have enough. Period. Jesse, in desperation, picked up a last minute overtime shift. That was Saturday evening/night. To no surprise he was crap on Sunday. I wanted to be mad at him (I was sort of), but I couldn't really be. I made him choose whether or not to take the shift and I knew we needed it. I had to do a lot of sighing and think, This isn't forever. Next weekend maybe we'll get to see that movie that came out last Friday that we've been dying to see. All it's going to take is a babysitter, but it's hard to ask sometimes.
Another challenge: Deciding when to ask, what to ask, how often to ask, because we really do need to ask sometimes. Whether it's a few hours of babysitting, some time to hang out, or even money, it's hard to ask all the time. Don't get me wrong: we don't ask for money. Sometimes I feel like we might as well sometimes though. My parents are paying for the rooms when we go to my cousin's wedding in Annapolis this summer with the notion that we'll pay what we can towards it. Really, if they were a business and we were clients, we'd be beyond collection. I can only hope we'll be able to help our kids out like this someday, or at least pay back my parents somehow... with the hopes that our children won't need the help.
So I guess it's all in mindset and attitude. When she shoved that fistful of sugar in her mouth, two things needed to happen: I needed to not freak on her and she needed repercussions to enforce that it was not okay. We skipped her turn and she freaked, but I ignored her cries and settled them when her next turn came along. I chose to not physically drag the BFF from bed to watch the movie we'd Red-boxed Sunday night and fought to not be too disappointed in our lack of weekend. The week goes by pretty quickly. I know if we miss seeing this movie in the theaters we can Red-box it later (although if opportunity arises we will find a sitter). We are blessed with a house, beautiful and healthy children, supportive parents, and a truly great friendship. Jesse and I may tease the crap out of each, but he's the first one I go to when I'm uncertain of anything. We vent to one another, lean on each other, and really couldn't imagine anyone else putting up with our personalities. When we have time, we can still laugh, still sigh, still talk about our kids' latest bizarre moments, and we're still in love in a world where that's a shady subject.
So I got a little corny at the end... What'd you expect with a title like that? Okay so what am I going to bake next...?
In Dreams...
Do you remember your dreams? Do you have dreams? Okay, everyone dreams, we need to in order to process our lives, but not everyone remembers them. Lately my dreams have lingered on the surface of my sleep night after night. I can even (sometimes) go back to them after waking to take Bekah potty and convince her it's still nighttime. Here's the thing: How valid are dreams anyway?
Some say dreams are a gateway to our subconscious, with which I agree. Some also say they're a gateway to an alternate consciousness which may allow us to travel beyond what our physical bodies can experience in this life. Food for thought. I've tried to go to sleep hoping, even expecting certain kinds of dreams; dreams with answers to difficult questions, dreams with clarity, dreams of escape. Sometimes I get sort of what I had asked for, though I'm disappointed with the result. A while ago, I prayed for an answer to a lingering hope which I've nurtured (perhaps beyond what's right) since my infancy. That night, I dreamed of my son playing on the living room floor happily. I knew what this dream was telling me: For now, focus on him. I was kind of bummed but I got the message and stop asking about said 'thing.'
The other night I dreamed of an elephant which I was going to consume with the help of a few guys. They were my guides and were showing me how to handle this creature piece at a time. While the pressing matter within the dream seemed something else entirely, I recalled mostly the elephant upon waking and knew this: I had a lot to take in now (or soon) and I would have help 'digesting' it all. Of course in the dream it wasn't weird that I was going to eat an elephant... while moving about in ankle to knee deep water. Yeah... I'm good at remembering dreams.
So that's interpretation, which by the way happens best through the dreamer more than by any book or expert. You know what things mean to you. You know how you felt in the dream, regardless how bizarre the description of the dream seems in waking hours. So what about the other consciousness part? I do believe in that as well. I believe we can be reached, when it's time and when we're ready, by things beyond our physical and waking ability. I've dreamed of those who have moved on from this world. I've made peace, been reassured. I know others who have experienced this as well. Today, I may have sort of promised a coworker that when she was ready... Well, it felt right to say and I'd said it before I knew it. I'm sure this will be; He's never let me down before.
My children dream now, quite vividly sometimes. With Bekah, the descriptions usually include dinosaurs but then again she's awake by then and quite the story-teller. She has intense dreams sometimes and I'm sure it's just that she's finding her way through that world now, a toddler realizing she can gain footing and move about this strange place of her own volition. As a toddler learning to walk may slip and falls at times, so she becomes frustrated and tosses and cries out in her sleep. I try to talk to her about her dreams when I come to her, unless she can calm herself. I wonder if she'll remember these dreams later in life as I remember a few from my childhood. I hope she does; they have more to teach upon looking back than they could at the time. I had a better understanding of what my dreams were saying and now can better interpret the more complicated dreams of my adulthood.
I don't always dream what I want to dream, and too often it's interrupted by crying children, but sometimes I so look forward to dreaming that I don't fall asleep easily. Speaking of which, sleep sounds good about now even though it's only 10:20pm. Hmmm... might be an early night tonight.
Dream well my friends.
Some say dreams are a gateway to our subconscious, with which I agree. Some also say they're a gateway to an alternate consciousness which may allow us to travel beyond what our physical bodies can experience in this life. Food for thought. I've tried to go to sleep hoping, even expecting certain kinds of dreams; dreams with answers to difficult questions, dreams with clarity, dreams of escape. Sometimes I get sort of what I had asked for, though I'm disappointed with the result. A while ago, I prayed for an answer to a lingering hope which I've nurtured (perhaps beyond what's right) since my infancy. That night, I dreamed of my son playing on the living room floor happily. I knew what this dream was telling me: For now, focus on him. I was kind of bummed but I got the message and stop asking about said 'thing.'
The other night I dreamed of an elephant which I was going to consume with the help of a few guys. They were my guides and were showing me how to handle this creature piece at a time. While the pressing matter within the dream seemed something else entirely, I recalled mostly the elephant upon waking and knew this: I had a lot to take in now (or soon) and I would have help 'digesting' it all. Of course in the dream it wasn't weird that I was going to eat an elephant... while moving about in ankle to knee deep water. Yeah... I'm good at remembering dreams.
So that's interpretation, which by the way happens best through the dreamer more than by any book or expert. You know what things mean to you. You know how you felt in the dream, regardless how bizarre the description of the dream seems in waking hours. So what about the other consciousness part? I do believe in that as well. I believe we can be reached, when it's time and when we're ready, by things beyond our physical and waking ability. I've dreamed of those who have moved on from this world. I've made peace, been reassured. I know others who have experienced this as well. Today, I may have sort of promised a coworker that when she was ready... Well, it felt right to say and I'd said it before I knew it. I'm sure this will be; He's never let me down before.
My children dream now, quite vividly sometimes. With Bekah, the descriptions usually include dinosaurs but then again she's awake by then and quite the story-teller. She has intense dreams sometimes and I'm sure it's just that she's finding her way through that world now, a toddler realizing she can gain footing and move about this strange place of her own volition. As a toddler learning to walk may slip and falls at times, so she becomes frustrated and tosses and cries out in her sleep. I try to talk to her about her dreams when I come to her, unless she can calm herself. I wonder if she'll remember these dreams later in life as I remember a few from my childhood. I hope she does; they have more to teach upon looking back than they could at the time. I had a better understanding of what my dreams were saying and now can better interpret the more complicated dreams of my adulthood.
I don't always dream what I want to dream, and too often it's interrupted by crying children, but sometimes I so look forward to dreaming that I don't fall asleep easily. Speaking of which, sleep sounds good about now even though it's only 10:20pm. Hmmm... might be an early night tonight.
Dream well my friends.
A Change of Character is a Change of Heart
{This is long overdue, both the topic and the idea of blogging on ideals and concepts instead of the mundane day-to-day rantings (though I'm thinking of doing an Andy Rooney segment).}
Those who know me know my truer nature: the more, er, zealous and, at times, over-committed child who goes from hiding her face to beaming it awkwardly after having shouted some unnecessary comment at the top of her lungs. It's most awesome when I'm gently corrected, suddenly embarrassed, or even completely ignored regardless how ridiculous I may have sounded. I certainly have never wanted to seem as such; who would? I simply wanted, in such moments, to be heard. Being the little sister, the over-achiever, the under-achiever (yes I've been both), the wall-flower to some or the fire-cracker to others leaves one feeling boxed. You're around these people; you're this to them. Be that. Kinda cramped in those boxes after a while. How could I grow? So when I try to switch voices from the goofy child to the young woman of reason it isn't always met with sincerity. Go figure. Enter now the scene of ridiculous to make a point, which isn't always made, and I feel dumb.
Let's address the other issue plaguing mine and 90% of other people's lives (wait, what percentage of humans are children under ten...) and that's stress. Usually it's money. Okay, almost always it's money and when there's little of that, there's LOTS of stress. We had a great time getting married, but couldn't find a house or the proverbial pot, ahem, later. We got pregnant, got more stressed, snowball of stress. Thought we'd be cramped in a room with one child? Guess what? Thing Two's a-coming! I was SOOO depressed! I love my children; have long before they were ever born, but I couldn't shake the droopiness, the loneliness, the helplessness, the uselessness, the stress, the stress, the stress... It got pretty scary at times. I tried escapism through writing but that's another topic for which no blog is worthy. I tried sleep aides. Melatonin and Valerian in combination helped which, in turn, helped with some cognitive reasoning. Work was affected but I'm not sure anyone noticed much. Jesse noticed, God love him, but felt helpless. It seemed that nothing was getting me out the funk I was in and the only occasional relief was prayer and crying. It was pathetic. Okay, maybe some would empathize and say it wasn't pathetic but I felt that way at the time (and looking back) but I just couldn't shake the whole drowning feeling.
So did the house cure us? Was the Love Shack the answer to our problems? Are you kidding?! We've never been in more debt, but I'm able to shrug a shoulder and brush it off like never before. Not saying we don't freak sometimes when the oil bill comes in (ahem, 'scuse me, just got a chill) but I feel far more in control of myself than I did before. My other half might be saying, 'Great, it was worse?' I may still be emotional, still at times apathetic of things, but I'm able to accomplish simple tasks once more... grocery shopping is still in the distant to never future. (Love you!)
Here's the bottom line. I faked my way out of it. Sounds lame doesn't it. It SO is. One inspiration was my OB, Dr. Morin. She had the sweetest and most calming voice so that I didn't care what she said. She could've said, "So we're going to have to stick this five gauge needle in your face and then cut you open before the anesthesia kicks in." I'd just stare back calmly with saucer-like hypnotic eyes and mutter, "Okay." Truth be told she made every visit and first childbirth itself go smoothly. So wish she didn't leave BI. She was truthful but calming, straight-forward but compassionate. I started putting myself in her character (speech and demeanor-wise) while working with patients myself. For most patients there was little difference, but for the strung-out, psycho-stressed moms and dads who looked like they wanted to blame me for their child's daycare-plagued illness or their teen's emotional and social problems... Well, I suddenly started cooling people down and getting nicer 'thank-yous' in the end. Diplomacy can be a powerful tool especially when paired with sincerity.
Was I cured? Course not! It was the beginning of a long road. I started taking pages from a few people on how to act positive. Now I might start to sound self-help-book-ie but I'll try not to. Bottom line is that I kept putting myself in a positive character and eventually I started believing it. It worked the best when I was helping someone else out of an emotional drought. I became the voice of concern, the voice of reason, the voice of compassion. I was once told I had hospitality; the ability to come to the person in need instead of trying to get him/her to come to my level for conversation. I held on to that concept and I began to understand a bit more about people and where they're coming from and where I wanted to be myself. God gave me some great examples to follow both at work and at home. I love them each dearly and don't yet know how to thank them. They may never know either, but I can at least repay them with kindness for now.
I need to divert for just a moment. In sixth grade I remember reading a book in which the main character's mother was described as being calm in the face of a tiger but jumping at the sound of a kitten. I loved the manner in which this mother was portrayed and have since always wanted to be regarded as such. Not that I want to jump at the sound of a kitten, but if my short-comings must be then let them be less significant than my accomplishments in the eyes of my children. I want to be that strong mother, able to face the dangers of life, holding her family together in trying times (Lord, not too many trying times if possible!) and able to talk things out during the difficult teenage years when parents are thought to be enemies. For the record, mine were not and my mother is that mother. Somewhere along the line I began convincing myself that I too can be that mother and, somehow, I'm going to be. Let's face it, I already do jump at the sound of a kitten but if I don't run scared from a tiger right now it's pure stupidity.
So I guess the status of this whole concept now is that I'm starting to believe I am becoming a more calm, in-control person. I'm trying to only speak when someone who cares will be listening, or when among friends because they're used to my voice anyway and I'll get over them ignoring me. Playing the part of the calm, not-about-to-scream-because-you're-screaming-but-I-can-be-louder mama is working far better than I thought it would. It's still trying, oh my is it trying, but I've learned to tune out the screaming/ranting/crying tantrums and be patient while they realize it's getting them nowhere. I have got a pair of *intense* children! It's hairy at times and I really fail my whole 'composed' persona sometimes, but slowly I am improving. The best part? I'm looking forward to things, planning things, enjoying the day, tiring them out, and actually getting a handle on things. I see a roadblock in life, bill or health issue, and I can look at it logically and reasonably figure out a solution. My thought process is that God isn't going to leave us homeless on the streets, or even hungry in our home. My aunt has a saying, "This too shall pass." My mother's family has another saying, "God is good."
Those who know me know my truer nature: the more, er, zealous and, at times, over-committed child who goes from hiding her face to beaming it awkwardly after having shouted some unnecessary comment at the top of her lungs. It's most awesome when I'm gently corrected, suddenly embarrassed, or even completely ignored regardless how ridiculous I may have sounded. I certainly have never wanted to seem as such; who would? I simply wanted, in such moments, to be heard. Being the little sister, the over-achiever, the under-achiever (yes I've been both), the wall-flower to some or the fire-cracker to others leaves one feeling boxed. You're around these people; you're this to them. Be that. Kinda cramped in those boxes after a while. How could I grow? So when I try to switch voices from the goofy child to the young woman of reason it isn't always met with sincerity. Go figure. Enter now the scene of ridiculous to make a point, which isn't always made, and I feel dumb.
Let's address the other issue plaguing mine and 90% of other people's lives (wait, what percentage of humans are children under ten...) and that's stress. Usually it's money. Okay, almost always it's money and when there's little of that, there's LOTS of stress. We had a great time getting married, but couldn't find a house or the proverbial pot, ahem, later. We got pregnant, got more stressed, snowball of stress. Thought we'd be cramped in a room with one child? Guess what? Thing Two's a-coming! I was SOOO depressed! I love my children; have long before they were ever born, but I couldn't shake the droopiness, the loneliness, the helplessness, the uselessness, the stress, the stress, the stress... It got pretty scary at times. I tried escapism through writing but that's another topic for which no blog is worthy. I tried sleep aides. Melatonin and Valerian in combination helped which, in turn, helped with some cognitive reasoning. Work was affected but I'm not sure anyone noticed much. Jesse noticed, God love him, but felt helpless. It seemed that nothing was getting me out the funk I was in and the only occasional relief was prayer and crying. It was pathetic. Okay, maybe some would empathize and say it wasn't pathetic but I felt that way at the time (and looking back) but I just couldn't shake the whole drowning feeling.
So did the house cure us? Was the Love Shack the answer to our problems? Are you kidding?! We've never been in more debt, but I'm able to shrug a shoulder and brush it off like never before. Not saying we don't freak sometimes when the oil bill comes in (ahem, 'scuse me, just got a chill) but I feel far more in control of myself than I did before. My other half might be saying, 'Great, it was worse?' I may still be emotional, still at times apathetic of things, but I'm able to accomplish simple tasks once more... grocery shopping is still in the distant to never future. (Love you!)
Here's the bottom line. I faked my way out of it. Sounds lame doesn't it. It SO is. One inspiration was my OB, Dr. Morin. She had the sweetest and most calming voice so that I didn't care what she said. She could've said, "So we're going to have to stick this five gauge needle in your face and then cut you open before the anesthesia kicks in." I'd just stare back calmly with saucer-like hypnotic eyes and mutter, "Okay." Truth be told she made every visit and first childbirth itself go smoothly. So wish she didn't leave BI. She was truthful but calming, straight-forward but compassionate. I started putting myself in her character (speech and demeanor-wise) while working with patients myself. For most patients there was little difference, but for the strung-out, psycho-stressed moms and dads who looked like they wanted to blame me for their child's daycare-plagued illness or their teen's emotional and social problems... Well, I suddenly started cooling people down and getting nicer 'thank-yous' in the end. Diplomacy can be a powerful tool especially when paired with sincerity.
Was I cured? Course not! It was the beginning of a long road. I started taking pages from a few people on how to act positive. Now I might start to sound self-help-book-ie but I'll try not to. Bottom line is that I kept putting myself in a positive character and eventually I started believing it. It worked the best when I was helping someone else out of an emotional drought. I became the voice of concern, the voice of reason, the voice of compassion. I was once told I had hospitality; the ability to come to the person in need instead of trying to get him/her to come to my level for conversation. I held on to that concept and I began to understand a bit more about people and where they're coming from and where I wanted to be myself. God gave me some great examples to follow both at work and at home. I love them each dearly and don't yet know how to thank them. They may never know either, but I can at least repay them with kindness for now.
I need to divert for just a moment. In sixth grade I remember reading a book in which the main character's mother was described as being calm in the face of a tiger but jumping at the sound of a kitten. I loved the manner in which this mother was portrayed and have since always wanted to be regarded as such. Not that I want to jump at the sound of a kitten, but if my short-comings must be then let them be less significant than my accomplishments in the eyes of my children. I want to be that strong mother, able to face the dangers of life, holding her family together in trying times (Lord, not too many trying times if possible!) and able to talk things out during the difficult teenage years when parents are thought to be enemies. For the record, mine were not and my mother is that mother. Somewhere along the line I began convincing myself that I too can be that mother and, somehow, I'm going to be. Let's face it, I already do jump at the sound of a kitten but if I don't run scared from a tiger right now it's pure stupidity.
So I guess the status of this whole concept now is that I'm starting to believe I am becoming a more calm, in-control person. I'm trying to only speak when someone who cares will be listening, or when among friends because they're used to my voice anyway and I'll get over them ignoring me. Playing the part of the calm, not-about-to-scream-because-you're-screaming-but-I-can-be-louder mama is working far better than I thought it would. It's still trying, oh my is it trying, but I've learned to tune out the screaming/ranting/crying tantrums and be patient while they realize it's getting them nowhere. I have got a pair of *intense* children! It's hairy at times and I really fail my whole 'composed' persona sometimes, but slowly I am improving. The best part? I'm looking forward to things, planning things, enjoying the day, tiring them out, and actually getting a handle on things. I see a roadblock in life, bill or health issue, and I can look at it logically and reasonably figure out a solution. My thought process is that God isn't going to leave us homeless on the streets, or even hungry in our home. My aunt has a saying, "This too shall pass." My mother's family has another saying, "God is good."
Overdue Accomplishments
So many things have been overdue... Spring Cleaning, moving out (the rest of the way), cleaning out my wardrobe (ahem, maternity clothes), and the Bs winning game 7 against the Habs!!! Woooh! Only took 8 tries!
Okay, so I've blogged or at least posted (I forget which) about spring cleaning a bit. The kids' clothes have been cleaned up and old stuff bagged, some even given out already. The art bin has expanded to four containers and there's now a 'dry tray' which was the base of a water pack. Well, today I spent some time at my parents' and in the last few moments I packed up tons of random things in the car from a ball glove to helmets to some towels. But the biggest thing was clearing out some of my clothes. I hadn't brought my summer things (or my karate gis) home yet so I took all I could minus a couple pairs of pants and two jackets, and some gis. Here's the most depressing thing: 60% of my wardrobe that I've *been wearing* is maternity. Sweaters, shirts, tank-tops... I couldn't stand it when I realized it. Well I did some trying on, tossing, and bagging all during an intense game 7 between Boston and Montreal. Two bags later I'm maternity clothing free and let's just say my wardrobe is uh... I have lots of closet space now. :)
There's much more moving out to go, sadly, and there's more organizing and cleaning and, well, everything to do at our house. Still, I feel I crested a pretty big hill in the project department. And as for the Bruins, Woooooh!! Ahem, well, that was round one.
Go Bs!!!
Okay, so I've blogged or at least posted (I forget which) about spring cleaning a bit. The kids' clothes have been cleaned up and old stuff bagged, some even given out already. The art bin has expanded to four containers and there's now a 'dry tray' which was the base of a water pack. Well, today I spent some time at my parents' and in the last few moments I packed up tons of random things in the car from a ball glove to helmets to some towels. But the biggest thing was clearing out some of my clothes. I hadn't brought my summer things (or my karate gis) home yet so I took all I could minus a couple pairs of pants and two jackets, and some gis. Here's the most depressing thing: 60% of my wardrobe that I've *been wearing* is maternity. Sweaters, shirts, tank-tops... I couldn't stand it when I realized it. Well I did some trying on, tossing, and bagging all during an intense game 7 between Boston and Montreal. Two bags later I'm maternity clothing free and let's just say my wardrobe is uh... I have lots of closet space now. :)
There's much more moving out to go, sadly, and there's more organizing and cleaning and, well, everything to do at our house. Still, I feel I crested a pretty big hill in the project department. And as for the Bruins, Woooooh!! Ahem, well, that was round one.
Go Bs!!!
Spring Cleaning and Planning
{I come up with about a million ideas to blog about throughout the day... then they're gone come blogging time.}
So the good weather is finally here, or at least it's much warmer and we can *Finally* put the boots and snow gear away! Maybe now we'll have room for jackets and shoes in the foyer. My other Spring Cleaning project that's actually within reason is to purge all the baby clothes and toys that are cluttering various parts of the closet/trailer/basement/attic/etc. A friend of mine will do well for her daughter and I might find a little boy who could use some of VJ's things. I can't do anything without Bekah noticing so she knows what I'm doing and will say, "Mama, are we giving our clothes to little boys and girls who don't have enough?"
Sometimes I can't stand how cute they are and the things they say. While Bekah was reading to herself (ahem, yes!) VJ was playing with my hair and I was apparently falling asleep. I opened my eyes in realizing this and he put out a hand, "Shh! Mama, close eyes!" and continued to stroke my hair!
I am still exhausted daily but pushing through with this P90X crap. Yeah I said it like that! I'm half-assing the jumping things because I can't jump in the house after 9pm and I can't do the spatially demanding exercises. I also skip the chin-ups as I can usually only do 1-1.5 and I have to set-up and take down each time and can't see the TV while I do this. So I've almost mastered the situps, weights (although I only have up to 5lbs), and lunges. I'll be mostly okay for Creation Northeast but I'd love to get some jogging in to get the cardio happening again. And man I am soooo stiff! I've lost all flexibility! Hopefully I don't need to do much climbing... Did I just type that?!
Speaking/Typing of which... Bekah now has her own climbing harness (though she's 6lbs below minimum weight requirement, peanut). I've also purchased some new work boots for them which I love! Yup, my daughter has my accursed love for foot gear. "Mama! These are so cute! And Vincent wants the blue ones!" We hope to get some ride-time in with my dear friend Trish and her horse, Calico Silver. Bek does so well riding, a horse anyway. She's still trying to get the whole circle thing with riding a bike, but she's young. Sometimes when you have a kid that can do almost anything it's weird to see a normal developmental setting appear. Then there's VJ. He gets nothing and gets SO mad and frustrated. Poor kid. He does get hockey though. Poor wallet.
Well, Easter baskets are set to be packed together. Couple new DVDs included (thankfully, as the others were getting stale). Bureau has been mostly cleaned off, aside the hair which still needs to be put in an envelope and mailed to Wigs for Kids. Most of the kids' clothes are in bags, ready for pick-up, but I need to unload a bin or two from the trailer. Anyone feel like popping over to play with the lit'uns whilst the BFF and I rummage through said (and unsaid) items of need-to-do? We pay in meals and good friendship! All we can afford and it's priceless!
So the good weather is finally here, or at least it's much warmer and we can *Finally* put the boots and snow gear away! Maybe now we'll have room for jackets and shoes in the foyer. My other Spring Cleaning project that's actually within reason is to purge all the baby clothes and toys that are cluttering various parts of the closet/trailer/basement/attic/etc. A friend of mine will do well for her daughter and I might find a little boy who could use some of VJ's things. I can't do anything without Bekah noticing so she knows what I'm doing and will say, "Mama, are we giving our clothes to little boys and girls who don't have enough?"
Sometimes I can't stand how cute they are and the things they say. While Bekah was reading to herself (ahem, yes!) VJ was playing with my hair and I was apparently falling asleep. I opened my eyes in realizing this and he put out a hand, "Shh! Mama, close eyes!" and continued to stroke my hair!
I am still exhausted daily but pushing through with this P90X crap. Yeah I said it like that! I'm half-assing the jumping things because I can't jump in the house after 9pm and I can't do the spatially demanding exercises. I also skip the chin-ups as I can usually only do 1-1.5 and I have to set-up and take down each time and can't see the TV while I do this. So I've almost mastered the situps, weights (although I only have up to 5lbs), and lunges. I'll be mostly okay for Creation Northeast but I'd love to get some jogging in to get the cardio happening again. And man I am soooo stiff! I've lost all flexibility! Hopefully I don't need to do much climbing... Did I just type that?!
Speaking/Typing of which... Bekah now has her own climbing harness (though she's 6lbs below minimum weight requirement, peanut). I've also purchased some new work boots for them which I love! Yup, my daughter has my accursed love for foot gear. "Mama! These are so cute! And Vincent wants the blue ones!" We hope to get some ride-time in with my dear friend Trish and her horse, Calico Silver. Bek does so well riding, a horse anyway. She's still trying to get the whole circle thing with riding a bike, but she's young. Sometimes when you have a kid that can do almost anything it's weird to see a normal developmental setting appear. Then there's VJ. He gets nothing and gets SO mad and frustrated. Poor kid. He does get hockey though. Poor wallet.
Well, Easter baskets are set to be packed together. Couple new DVDs included (thankfully, as the others were getting stale). Bureau has been mostly cleaned off, aside the hair which still needs to be put in an envelope and mailed to Wigs for Kids. Most of the kids' clothes are in bags, ready for pick-up, but I need to unload a bin or two from the trailer. Anyone feel like popping over to play with the lit'uns whilst the BFF and I rummage through said (and unsaid) items of need-to-do? We pay in meals and good friendship! All we can afford and it's priceless!
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