Well boys and girls, summer is officially off to a (soggy) fast start!
This past weekend, I brought both G and K to an audition for a kid centered infomercial. Ages ago I signed them up on this local modeling agency's list, and from time to time they send me kid friendly commercial opportunities. Sometimes I send in the kids photos, or bring them to a casting if we have the day free. I don't push it, and I don't really expect anything out of it. But, since K has rock star/actress aspirations already, I figured I'd support her and encourage her to explore it, even if she is a little young for it. I always make sure to stress that it's all for fun, and not to worry about getting chosen or not.
Well, this audition was definitely the most intense one we've experienced yet. There were tons of kids there, and nervous parents preening them, and running lines. Some clutched head shots, and sprayed down their kid's heads with various product. My kids ran around and took advantage of the dry erase board that dominated the room. The audition its self was short and sweet. K sang "Twinkle, Twinkle, Little Star" and G sang a few verses of "Frosty The Snowman" (Hey, it's what he felt comfortable singing). K was duly impressed by another little girl who sang a Hannah Montana tune. The director seemed suitable impressed with the kids' adorableness, and we were released to enjoy the rest of the day.
Yesterday began the first day of summer camp. I clutched my cell phone nervously all day. wondering if I would get a call, but it remained silent. When I went to pick them up, G was reluctant to leave his game of basketball. K marched towards the door, grumbling that she had a headache, and was tired, and needed to get home immediately. When I got the full rundown, they both agreed that they had a great day, complete with swimming lessons and plenty of sports and outdoor time. However, they both complained that my lovingly packed lunches were lacking. Let's hope I got it right today...
Tuesday, June 24, 2008
Friday, June 20, 2008
Haiku Friday- Saying Good-Bye
Hard to bid farewell
Good-bye to teachers we love
Adieu to school lunch
Hi to summer camp
Welcome to the new camp bill
See-ya to my cash
Hard to bid farewell
Good-bye to the job I love
Back to the office
Hi to disconnect
Bye to the contact, the stress
And bye to the joy
So many transitions taking place this week, it's hard to keep my head from spinning clear off. First and foremost, the kids ended school this week, and will begin day camp on Monday.
I'm horribly nervous- we've never put the kids in this summer program before. Also, it's a new, steep child care bill that we're not used to, and GH is still not working. Good God please save me from daily panic attacks.....
Also beginning Monday, I will be back working my office job, having completed my tour of duty as the fill-in House Manager for one of our residences. I've been in this position for the past three months, and even though at times it's been hell, it's also been incredibly rewarding. I'm really sad to be leaving the house, and to watch all of my hard work be passed on to someone else. Yesterday I had one of the worst anxiety attacks I've ever had, and I worry about how it will feel to leave today. Of course, one client has already called this morning to tell me she hates me, all because I reminded her about her Podiatry appointment. Perhaps there are some things that aren't so hard to say good-bye to after all...
Thursday, June 19, 2008
Snippet
* Earlier in the day, the kids had watched a Sylvan Learning Center commercial that said kids loose two months worth of their education over summer vacation*
G:Mom, why do you loose so much learning over the summer?
K: I know, I know!
Me: Oh yeah?
K: Yup. It's because in the summer time you go swimming, and when the water gets in your ears, it washes away all of the information in your brain.
Me: Close enough.
G:Mom, why do you loose so much learning over the summer?
K: I know, I know!
Me: Oh yeah?
K: Yup. It's because in the summer time you go swimming, and when the water gets in your ears, it washes away all of the information in your brain.
Me: Close enough.
Friday, June 13, 2008
This Week......
This week I:
- Took my kids to the local fun fair and spent way too much money. However, it helped our family with some much needed reconnection, which made it worth every penny.
- Used my totally rockin camera for the first time and got some beautiful shoits of the kids. Pictures coming soon.
- Finally made risotto after seeing it every week on "Hell's Kitchen"
- Almost made it through the season finale of "Top Chef" GH was kind enough to wake me when it was over to let me know who won.
- Tried to nurse my sad little veggie garden back to health after a freak hail storm. No Joke. If we get one veggie out of that damn garden I'll be shocked....
- Continued my search for an umbrella style clothesline. Or any self-standing clothesline. You know, anything that isn't a rope tied to two trees.
- Had a great art show and was asked to be a store's official jeweler. Who knows, someday I may be able to make a living at this.
- Worked on my new website all by myself since my sister decided to abandon me for paying jobs. It's slow going, but it will get there.
- Managed to get 3 of my 6 clients to the beach, including one woman who never leaves her apartment. We had an amazing day. Small miracles....
- Did not blog. See above.
- Took my kids to the local fun fair and spent way too much money. However, it helped our family with some much needed reconnection, which made it worth every penny.
- Used my totally rockin camera for the first time and got some beautiful shoits of the kids. Pictures coming soon.
- Finally made risotto after seeing it every week on "Hell's Kitchen"
- Almost made it through the season finale of "Top Chef" GH was kind enough to wake me when it was over to let me know who won.
- Tried to nurse my sad little veggie garden back to health after a freak hail storm. No Joke. If we get one veggie out of that damn garden I'll be shocked....
- Continued my search for an umbrella style clothesline. Or any self-standing clothesline. You know, anything that isn't a rope tied to two trees.
- Had a great art show and was asked to be a store's official jeweler. Who knows, someday I may be able to make a living at this.
- Worked on my new website all by myself since my sister decided to abandon me for paying jobs. It's slow going, but it will get there.
- Managed to get 3 of my 6 clients to the beach, including one woman who never leaves her apartment. We had an amazing day. Small miracles....
- Did not blog. See above.
Wednesday, June 04, 2008
Hump Day Hmmm- Comfort Zones
As always, I popped over this week to check out the upcoming Hump Day Hmmm..., which I always vow to do, but somehow keep missing. However, after reading about this week's topic, I MADE myself remember that it was Wednesday and therefore, time to participate.
This week's topic is comfort zones, and is incredibly relevant to my as of late. As an incredibly open minded individual, I've always considered my boundaries wide and my hesitations few and far between. In my life I have been fortunate to know people of all colors, all orientations, and all walks of life. I've dabbled in men of every shade and size. My brother was a homeless drug addict for many years. In college, I helped one of my closest friends struggle with her sexuality and mental illness. I have a son with Aspergers.
For the past year, I've been working for a company that does assisted living for adults with MR (mental retardation). I work in the main office, primarily handling paperwork. One would assume that would keep you on the outs of most client interaction- but not in our company. I've bandaged self-inflicted wounds, given dietary advice, and listed to people talk about horrific abuse that they've endured. I've grown close to people who most would avoid on the street out of pure ignorance.
With all of that in my life and in my past, I didn't think I even had a box anymore. My comfort zone is so huge it's Australia. However, I've discovered that even Australia eventually becomes the ocean.
In mid April, I was asked to fill in at one of our residences while they worked to replace the House Manager who had quit. I was eager to be more hands on, and met the challenge with gusto. This was a residence where I was close to almost all of the clients, and also one of our more "low-key" developments.
And now it's June. I've been there longer than expected, and seen more than I ever expected. I've had to be mother and enforcer. I've been cook and caregiver. I've been the bad guy and the emotional punching bags. There have been days when I've barely held it together long enough to get into my car and start crying.
And just when I think I've reached the edge of my comfort zone, it gets pushed further. These past two weeks however, I've hit my limit.
*** WARNING - IT MAY TAKE YOU OUT OF YOUR COMFORT ZONE TO CONTINUE READING ***
Last week, one of my clients was prescribed a suppository for an anal fissure (Hey, I warned you didn't I?) and internal hemorrhoids. I knew this would not go over well.
This woman was abused in some of the most horrifying ways possible at the hands of her own family. She was raped by various male family members. She was put on a dog regularly when she was taken outside. All of her teeth were removed when she bit someone as a child.
I knew this medication would be traumatic, but I also knew there was no alternative. Without it, she could develop an infection, which would cause complications with her severe renal disease. Several of my staff told me outright that they weren't comfortable administering the medication. I wasn't either.
And so I pushed. Inside I tried to curl into my box and remain in my comfort zone. On the outside, I've been forced to push a woman who's experienced severe trauma to suffer through further violation. I've been forced to push my staff to do the same thing all in the name of her health.
And what have I gotten for my efforts? A client who now alternately weeps and screams at me. Staff who is uncomfortable every moment. A stack of paperwork that goes straight to the state with each dose of the suppository she refuses.
Life never stops surprising you. Just when you think you've reached your limits, your pushed harder, kicking and screaming. Your eyes are just a bit wider, your heart a bit fuller.
** UPDATE**
This morning, my client proudly told me that she had allowed someone to help her with her suppository last night, and then she took it again this morning.
A weight is off my chest, and today is a good day. It just goes to show that sometimes persistence pays off. And sometimes, when you push your own boundaries, others will push theirs in return.
This week's topic is comfort zones, and is incredibly relevant to my as of late. As an incredibly open minded individual, I've always considered my boundaries wide and my hesitations few and far between. In my life I have been fortunate to know people of all colors, all orientations, and all walks of life. I've dabbled in men of every shade and size. My brother was a homeless drug addict for many years. In college, I helped one of my closest friends struggle with her sexuality and mental illness. I have a son with Aspergers.
For the past year, I've been working for a company that does assisted living for adults with MR (mental retardation). I work in the main office, primarily handling paperwork. One would assume that would keep you on the outs of most client interaction- but not in our company. I've bandaged self-inflicted wounds, given dietary advice, and listed to people talk about horrific abuse that they've endured. I've grown close to people who most would avoid on the street out of pure ignorance.
With all of that in my life and in my past, I didn't think I even had a box anymore. My comfort zone is so huge it's Australia. However, I've discovered that even Australia eventually becomes the ocean.
In mid April, I was asked to fill in at one of our residences while they worked to replace the House Manager who had quit. I was eager to be more hands on, and met the challenge with gusto. This was a residence where I was close to almost all of the clients, and also one of our more "low-key" developments.
And now it's June. I've been there longer than expected, and seen more than I ever expected. I've had to be mother and enforcer. I've been cook and caregiver. I've been the bad guy and the emotional punching bags. There have been days when I've barely held it together long enough to get into my car and start crying.
And just when I think I've reached the edge of my comfort zone, it gets pushed further. These past two weeks however, I've hit my limit.
*** WARNING - IT MAY TAKE YOU OUT OF YOUR COMFORT ZONE TO CONTINUE READING ***
Last week, one of my clients was prescribed a suppository for an anal fissure (Hey, I warned you didn't I?) and internal hemorrhoids. I knew this would not go over well.
This woman was abused in some of the most horrifying ways possible at the hands of her own family. She was raped by various male family members. She was put on a dog regularly when she was taken outside. All of her teeth were removed when she bit someone as a child.
I knew this medication would be traumatic, but I also knew there was no alternative. Without it, she could develop an infection, which would cause complications with her severe renal disease. Several of my staff told me outright that they weren't comfortable administering the medication. I wasn't either.
And so I pushed. Inside I tried to curl into my box and remain in my comfort zone. On the outside, I've been forced to push a woman who's experienced severe trauma to suffer through further violation. I've been forced to push my staff to do the same thing all in the name of her health.
And what have I gotten for my efforts? A client who now alternately weeps and screams at me. Staff who is uncomfortable every moment. A stack of paperwork that goes straight to the state with each dose of the suppository she refuses.
Life never stops surprising you. Just when you think you've reached your limits, your pushed harder, kicking and screaming. Your eyes are just a bit wider, your heart a bit fuller.
** UPDATE**
This morning, my client proudly told me that she had allowed someone to help her with her suppository last night, and then she took it again this morning.
A weight is off my chest, and today is a good day. It just goes to show that sometimes persistence pays off. And sometimes, when you push your own boundaries, others will push theirs in return.
Monday, June 02, 2008
Catching Up
Once again, life has gotten away from me. Things like blogging, and, I don't know, sleep, have fallen by the wayside.
The past week has been a blur of crafty madness. I had a big show yesterday, and I took Friday off just to make jewelry. I made jewelry on Saturday while my parents were visiting. I made jewelry in my sleep. I made jewelry instead of eating. I prepped displays and eagerly priced my items. I was consumed.
Yesterday was the show. The venue was packed and my jewelry partner and I were excited and optimistic. As the day wore on, more and more people fondled our jewelry. The compliments and admiration poured in. The sales... were non-existent.
We polled the other crafters and found that it wasn't just us. Apparently after buying food and beer, people weren't keen to purchase lovely handcrafted items. The economy blows, and this was living proof. In the end, I cleared $5 above my booth fee- and the booth fee was pretty cheap.
I had so hoped to make money at this thing. I poured myself into it, thinking this would be a big chance to get ahead. Big. Fat. Crap.
So now I prep for this Friday, and my display at the local art walk. Hopefully it will work out better than yesterday. In the meantime, I won't let myself get consumed my it. I will play with the kids and enjoy my time with them. I will fiddle with my new camera. I will blog about the good moments, and remember money isn't everything. I will cook and eat and do the things I love. I will enjoy my veggie garden, my new rose bushes and stop worrying about what comes next.
The past week has been a blur of crafty madness. I had a big show yesterday, and I took Friday off just to make jewelry. I made jewelry on Saturday while my parents were visiting. I made jewelry in my sleep. I made jewelry instead of eating. I prepped displays and eagerly priced my items. I was consumed.
Yesterday was the show. The venue was packed and my jewelry partner and I were excited and optimistic. As the day wore on, more and more people fondled our jewelry. The compliments and admiration poured in. The sales... were non-existent.
We polled the other crafters and found that it wasn't just us. Apparently after buying food and beer, people weren't keen to purchase lovely handcrafted items. The economy blows, and this was living proof. In the end, I cleared $5 above my booth fee- and the booth fee was pretty cheap.
I had so hoped to make money at this thing. I poured myself into it, thinking this would be a big chance to get ahead. Big. Fat. Crap.
So now I prep for this Friday, and my display at the local art walk. Hopefully it will work out better than yesterday. In the meantime, I won't let myself get consumed my it. I will play with the kids and enjoy my time with them. I will fiddle with my new camera. I will blog about the good moments, and remember money isn't everything. I will cook and eat and do the things I love. I will enjoy my veggie garden, my new rose bushes and stop worrying about what comes next.
Friday, May 23, 2008
Gift To Myself- Haiku Friday
I have dreamed of it
Far to long a fantasy
Photo envy pain
Now surprise money
Some extra in my account
It will now be mine
Oh Canon Rebel
Soon we will be together
Making great photos
For years now I have dreamed of owning an SLR camera. I have drooled, I have dreamed and I have longed. Now, thanks to a small, unexpected windfall, my dream camera will be mine. A Canon Rebel XTi is on it's way to me as we speak.
After sacrificing college, and suffering financially for months, I don't feel guilty about spending the money on myself. It's my birthday present to myself, the mom who's gone without birthday gifts for years.
Of course when it gets here, I'll probably be overwhelmed. I'll feel the guilt over buying something so huge for myself. I'll be suffocated by the anxiety of spending so much money. But for now, I'm going to enjoy imagining all of the wonderful pictures I'm going to take......
Tuesday, May 20, 2008
Happy Birthday To Me
Today is my birthday. Funny just how little that seems to mean the older you get. This morning, neither my husband or my kids remembered to say Happy Birthday. The morning was salvaged by breakfast out with a co-worker, and a client of ours who had a birthday today as well. I tried not to be to depressed about the fact that that breakfast at Denny's would probably be the highlight of my birthday.
Today I wrote to the college I was accepted to and told them that I had to withdraw my acceptance into their graduate program. GH still does not have a stable job, and I just can't afford to go back to school this year. I'm doing my best to choke down my sorrow and disappointment. I keep reminding myself that sacrifice is part of being an adult and a parent. Some things just have to come first.
On the plus side some things, big things, look to be happening with my jewelry making. I have my first big show of the season in two weeks, and it has the potential to be a big money maker. Also, through a series of random events, I've stumbled into a very promising relationship with a local rock and gem shop. I've agreed to produce a line of new-age, healing stone jewelry for the shop, and I'm taking custom jewelry jobs from random customers. If all things there come to full fruition, it may mean steady work designing jewelry. I like to think that maybe the universe is making up for me having to give up college- or perhaps even pushing me in another direction.
So Happy Birthday to me. Another year survived and under my belt. Another year to look ahead and to hope for more, whatever that may be.
Today I wrote to the college I was accepted to and told them that I had to withdraw my acceptance into their graduate program. GH still does not have a stable job, and I just can't afford to go back to school this year. I'm doing my best to choke down my sorrow and disappointment. I keep reminding myself that sacrifice is part of being an adult and a parent. Some things just have to come first.
On the plus side some things, big things, look to be happening with my jewelry making. I have my first big show of the season in two weeks, and it has the potential to be a big money maker. Also, through a series of random events, I've stumbled into a very promising relationship with a local rock and gem shop. I've agreed to produce a line of new-age, healing stone jewelry for the shop, and I'm taking custom jewelry jobs from random customers. If all things there come to full fruition, it may mean steady work designing jewelry. I like to think that maybe the universe is making up for me having to give up college- or perhaps even pushing me in another direction.
So Happy Birthday to me. Another year survived and under my belt. Another year to look ahead and to hope for more, whatever that may be.
Wednesday, May 07, 2008
I Married The King Of The Dorks
Me: Honey, you need to get up
GH: *mumbling from under the covers*
Me: Seriously, you need to get your ass out of bed!
GH: I'm gathering energy from the earth. I'll be up in a minute.
* * * * * * * * * * * * * * *
Me: Sweetie, can you please come help me with dinner?
GH: There is no dinner. There is only Zorg.
Me: Fine, then can you please come help me make some Zorg?
* * * * * * * * * * * * * * *
GH: (Wraping up some really long boring story about some argument he was having in his online Lord Of The Rings game) ... and so then I just said "You Win!" because that's the only way to really win an argument. It makes the other person look like a total jerk.
Me: Hmmmmm (thoughtfully) Did you consider just saying "I know you are, but what am I?"
GH: You obviously didn't get the point. That would have been totally immature.
Me: How about "I am rubber you are glue."?
GH: No, that's still immature. You just don't get it.
Me: Honey, have you ever stopped to consider that you're a grown man playing an online fantasy game? I think you may have missed my point.
* * * * * * * * * * * * * *
I love him to death, but did you catch that he plays Lord Of The Rings Online? Can I just point that out again for the record? Just call me Mrs. Dork.
GH: *mumbling from under the covers*
Me: Seriously, you need to get your ass out of bed!
GH: I'm gathering energy from the earth. I'll be up in a minute.
* * * * * * * * * * * * * * *
Me: Sweetie, can you please come help me with dinner?
GH: There is no dinner. There is only Zorg.
Me: Fine, then can you please come help me make some Zorg?
* * * * * * * * * * * * * * *
GH: (Wraping up some really long boring story about some argument he was having in his online Lord Of The Rings game) ... and so then I just said "You Win!" because that's the only way to really win an argument. It makes the other person look like a total jerk.
Me: Hmmmmm (thoughtfully) Did you consider just saying "I know you are, but what am I?"
GH: You obviously didn't get the point. That would have been totally immature.
Me: How about "I am rubber you are glue."?
GH: No, that's still immature. You just don't get it.
Me: Honey, have you ever stopped to consider that you're a grown man playing an online fantasy game? I think you may have missed my point.
* * * * * * * * * * * * * *
I love him to death, but did you catch that he plays Lord Of The Rings Online? Can I just point that out again for the record? Just call me Mrs. Dork.
Sunday, May 04, 2008
Seriously, Is It Me?
On Friday, I had one of my client's steal a $200 check out of my office. I work with adults with MR, and have learned infinite patience and understanding, but this, well, this just pushed me over the edge. Granted, it was a client with a history of theft and deception, but it also happened to be a client I had just spent two days worth of serious quality time with. Naive as it may sound, I just didn't think she'd pull something like that with me.
When I confronted her, my eyes swam with tears of hurt and anger. I managed to be calm and professional, but part of me? Well, part of me wanted to throttle her and scream "What the hell were you thinking!?!?!" Once again, I was left feeling betrayed, furious, and like a complete sucker.
So seriously, is it me? Do I give off some kind of pheromone that prompts thievery? Tomorrow, I'm dousing myself in some kind of aura cleansing hippy oil.
When I confronted her, my eyes swam with tears of hurt and anger. I managed to be calm and professional, but part of me? Well, part of me wanted to throttle her and scream "What the hell were you thinking!?!?!" Once again, I was left feeling betrayed, furious, and like a complete sucker.
So seriously, is it me? Do I give off some kind of pheromone that prompts thievery? Tomorrow, I'm dousing myself in some kind of aura cleansing hippy oil.
Sunday, April 27, 2008
Princess of Thieves
This past week has been a veritable crap storm. A few highlights include:
- After having my "Service Engine Soon" light come on, my car broke down and required a lengthy tow and a new starter. After it was repaired, the engine light went back off.
- Yesterday the "Service Engine Soon" light came back on. I'm afraid. Very afraid.
- I didn't get the promotion I applied for at work. Instead, my best friend got it. I've diligently choked back sobs as I tell her I'm happy for her, and listen to her ramble on and on about how great life is going for her.
- GH has still not found a job, and with each day that goes by, I worry more and more that I won't be able to go to graduate school.
With all of that lovely garbage going on, one more incident was enough to send me straight over the edge. As if the universe knew this delicate calculation, ti decided to send me one more thing.
Yesterday, on a rare Saturday off, I took the kids out to lunch, (which I couldn't really afford) and then to the local craft store, which was doing a free craft project for kids. G and K had a great time decorating bookmarks, and picked up a super duty craft epoxy I've been needing with my handy-dandy 50% off coupon.
Since the day was going so well, and it was so beautiful outside, I decided to take the kids to the park. Sitting on a nearby bench, I watched the kids play, squealing with delight, lost in the dusty melee of other screaming, flailing kids. A short while later, the kids discovered their favorite friends were there, and their mom soon joined me on the bench for a rare adult/mommy moment.
After some time, K came over to the bench with her little friend and sat beside me. That's when I noticed something clutched in her hand. It was a gift card from the craft store we had just been at. With a few questions, it was revealed by K that she had taken it from the store. Seething with embarrassed fury, I told her she was in a world of trouble when we got home. She hid under the slides while I gathered up G and headed home.
When we arrived home, I told GH what had happened, and we had a very serious discussion with K about how serious stealing was. We told her how it hurt and embarrassed her family. We told her that it hurt the store and it's employees. We told her that if she was an adult she could go to jail, that stealing was a very serious crime. We talked, she cried, and eventually we sent her to her room for the evening.
Today I took K back to the craft store, stolen gift card in hand. We returned the coloring book I had bought for her yesterday, and asked for the manager. Pulling her aside, I had K explain what she had done, and give the gift card back to manager. I explained that K had to return her coloring book and was grounded for a week and that she understood what she did was very wrong. The manager was very kind and understanding, and we agreed that K would write the store a letter of apology, telling them what she had learned from this experience.
And now I stew, in embarrassment, hurt, and a permeating feeling of crushing failure. This isn't how I raise my children. I know that this happens with most kids at some point, but I guess I didn't think it would be my kids. Does anyone? After all, my kids know how hard we work for every dollar. They've been brought up to respect hard work and the value of everything. Could I somehow have done it wrong?
Since it appears my life has gone completely white-trash this week, looks like I won't be quiting smoking this week either. Maybe I should just grab a Budweiser, turn on WWE and admit defeat....
*UPDATE*
Only a few hours later now, and GH has discovered two more stolen items in K's room. One, a container of bubble gum from Blockbuster. The other, a tube of lip balm from Wal-Mart. She's 5 for God's sake! What is going on with my child?!?!?!
Tomorrow, we're removing the toys from her room for the week, and she will be spending her time in there after school and after dinner. We're hoping a week with no toys at all will teach her to appreciate what she has. She's also not allowed to come with me to the store for a long while. I'm just not sure what to do.
If anyone has any suggestions, I'd really appreciate it. Until then, I'll be watching Jerry Springer and preparing for my future.....
- After having my "Service Engine Soon" light come on, my car broke down and required a lengthy tow and a new starter. After it was repaired, the engine light went back off.
- Yesterday the "Service Engine Soon" light came back on. I'm afraid. Very afraid.
- I didn't get the promotion I applied for at work. Instead, my best friend got it. I've diligently choked back sobs as I tell her I'm happy for her, and listen to her ramble on and on about how great life is going for her.
- GH has still not found a job, and with each day that goes by, I worry more and more that I won't be able to go to graduate school.
With all of that lovely garbage going on, one more incident was enough to send me straight over the edge. As if the universe knew this delicate calculation, ti decided to send me one more thing.
Yesterday, on a rare Saturday off, I took the kids out to lunch, (which I couldn't really afford) and then to the local craft store, which was doing a free craft project for kids. G and K had a great time decorating bookmarks, and picked up a super duty craft epoxy I've been needing with my handy-dandy 50% off coupon.
Since the day was going so well, and it was so beautiful outside, I decided to take the kids to the park. Sitting on a nearby bench, I watched the kids play, squealing with delight, lost in the dusty melee of other screaming, flailing kids. A short while later, the kids discovered their favorite friends were there, and their mom soon joined me on the bench for a rare adult/mommy moment.
After some time, K came over to the bench with her little friend and sat beside me. That's when I noticed something clutched in her hand. It was a gift card from the craft store we had just been at. With a few questions, it was revealed by K that she had taken it from the store. Seething with embarrassed fury, I told her she was in a world of trouble when we got home. She hid under the slides while I gathered up G and headed home.
When we arrived home, I told GH what had happened, and we had a very serious discussion with K about how serious stealing was. We told her how it hurt and embarrassed her family. We told her that it hurt the store and it's employees. We told her that if she was an adult she could go to jail, that stealing was a very serious crime. We talked, she cried, and eventually we sent her to her room for the evening.
Today I took K back to the craft store, stolen gift card in hand. We returned the coloring book I had bought for her yesterday, and asked for the manager. Pulling her aside, I had K explain what she had done, and give the gift card back to manager. I explained that K had to return her coloring book and was grounded for a week and that she understood what she did was very wrong. The manager was very kind and understanding, and we agreed that K would write the store a letter of apology, telling them what she had learned from this experience.
And now I stew, in embarrassment, hurt, and a permeating feeling of crushing failure. This isn't how I raise my children. I know that this happens with most kids at some point, but I guess I didn't think it would be my kids. Does anyone? After all, my kids know how hard we work for every dollar. They've been brought up to respect hard work and the value of everything. Could I somehow have done it wrong?
Since it appears my life has gone completely white-trash this week, looks like I won't be quiting smoking this week either. Maybe I should just grab a Budweiser, turn on WWE and admit defeat....
*UPDATE*
Only a few hours later now, and GH has discovered two more stolen items in K's room. One, a container of bubble gum from Blockbuster. The other, a tube of lip balm from Wal-Mart. She's 5 for God's sake! What is going on with my child?!?!?!
Tomorrow, we're removing the toys from her room for the week, and she will be spending her time in there after school and after dinner. We're hoping a week with no toys at all will teach her to appreciate what she has. She's also not allowed to come with me to the store for a long while. I'm just not sure what to do.
If anyone has any suggestions, I'd really appreciate it. Until then, I'll be watching Jerry Springer and preparing for my future.....
Wednesday, April 16, 2008
Craptastic-ness
Tuesday on my way to work, I stopped to get gas at the 7-11 as I usually do. They have the cheapest gas in town, but unfortunately only two pumps. Seeing that both pumps were occupied, I pulled into a space in front of the convenience store to wait. Since this was the day I had decided to quit smoking*, I stayed firmly planted in my seat, resisting the urge to go buy a new pack of Camel Lights (*and yes, I smoke. This is a big dark, dirty secret which I have now revealed. In my defence though, I never smoke in the car, or around my children. I only smoke at work where I have the very real potential to go postal)
When I saw the car at the pump closest to me pull away, I sighed heavily in relief. Checking behind me, I began to creep out of the space. I turned my eyes forward for a moment to check my front end, and *BOOM*. BY car jerked to halt, and I began to swear loudly,as I turned behind me to see the rear end of my mommy wagon planted firmly in the side of a small white BMW.
I pulled quickly back into my space, shaking violently and still swearing under my breath. I dug in my purse for a scrap of paper and a pen to exchange insurance information. After asking BMW lady if she was all right, we exchanged our information, both of us flustered and unsure that we had given each other what we needed. There was a swath of white paint on the corner of my bumper, but nothing more. I winced at the dent in her driver's side door, streaked with my car's blue paint.
After our awkward exchange, we both went to the gas pumps, where we stood across from each other pumping gas, trying to avoid each other's gaze. Afterwards? I marched my fanny into the store and bought a pack of cigarettes.
Later that day, my car insurance company called to let me know they had determined I was liable for the damage since I had been pulling into the lane of travel. Even though she had appeared out of nowhere. Even though she was obviously darting in to steal the empty pump. Insurance asshats. I'm still waiting to see what her damage claim is. I'm pretty sure I'll be paying my full $500 deductible. I may have to sell body parts.
Did I mention the lady was driving a BMW? I'm going outside for a cigarette.....
When I saw the car at the pump closest to me pull away, I sighed heavily in relief. Checking behind me, I began to creep out of the space. I turned my eyes forward for a moment to check my front end, and *BOOM*. BY car jerked to halt, and I began to swear loudly,as I turned behind me to see the rear end of my mommy wagon planted firmly in the side of a small white BMW.
I pulled quickly back into my space, shaking violently and still swearing under my breath. I dug in my purse for a scrap of paper and a pen to exchange insurance information. After asking BMW lady if she was all right, we exchanged our information, both of us flustered and unsure that we had given each other what we needed. There was a swath of white paint on the corner of my bumper, but nothing more. I winced at the dent in her driver's side door, streaked with my car's blue paint.
After our awkward exchange, we both went to the gas pumps, where we stood across from each other pumping gas, trying to avoid each other's gaze. Afterwards? I marched my fanny into the store and bought a pack of cigarettes.
Later that day, my car insurance company called to let me know they had determined I was liable for the damage since I had been pulling into the lane of travel. Even though she had appeared out of nowhere. Even though she was obviously darting in to steal the empty pump. Insurance asshats. I'm still waiting to see what her damage claim is. I'm pretty sure I'll be paying my full $500 deductible. I may have to sell body parts.
Did I mention the lady was driving a BMW? I'm going outside for a cigarette.....
Tuesday, April 15, 2008
Lameness
I haven't posted lately, and frankly the only excuse I have is that I'm lame. Seriously, the queen of all lameness.
Here are some things I could have blogged about but never found the time for:
- K asked if she could go to a sleepover at a friend's house. I told her, at 5, she's too young to have a sleepover, especially at someone's house who I don't even know. And besides, she didn't even have an invitation. Well, the next day, she brought home an "invitation" that her and her friend had concocted at school. It was hilarious. I meant to take a picture and post it, but it got wet and the ink bled while it was on the counter. Grrrr.
- I received a letter informing me that I had been selected to receive one of the scholarships I had applied for. Now, I only need 9 more in that amount and graduate school will be paid for....
- GH has decided to start a business building computers. He still doesn't have a real job, and school is looming closer.
- I have started walking after dinner with a good friend. We walk around the high school track and let our kids romp around in the grass in the middle. We're up to 2 miles a night. No progress on the waistline yet.
- I'm considering investing in Spanx, a new fancy line of body shapers that are supposed to be comfortable and fabulous all around. I'd like some feedback from anyone who's ever actually worn them before I spend $70 on a pair of underwear. Anyone?
- Most of our snow is finally gone, and I've renewed my vow to plant a veggie garden this year. So far, I've bought seeds and rakes. This year, it's going to happen. I'm just praying my skeezy neighbor won't steal my veggies.
- G continues to do well with the Melatonin. I still love Melatonin.
Here are some things I could have blogged about but never found the time for:
- K asked if she could go to a sleepover at a friend's house. I told her, at 5, she's too young to have a sleepover, especially at someone's house who I don't even know. And besides, she didn't even have an invitation. Well, the next day, she brought home an "invitation" that her and her friend had concocted at school. It was hilarious. I meant to take a picture and post it, but it got wet and the ink bled while it was on the counter. Grrrr.
- I received a letter informing me that I had been selected to receive one of the scholarships I had applied for. Now, I only need 9 more in that amount and graduate school will be paid for....
- GH has decided to start a business building computers. He still doesn't have a real job, and school is looming closer.
- I have started walking after dinner with a good friend. We walk around the high school track and let our kids romp around in the grass in the middle. We're up to 2 miles a night. No progress on the waistline yet.
- I'm considering investing in Spanx, a new fancy line of body shapers that are supposed to be comfortable and fabulous all around. I'd like some feedback from anyone who's ever actually worn them before I spend $70 on a pair of underwear. Anyone?
- Most of our snow is finally gone, and I've renewed my vow to plant a veggie garden this year. So far, I've bought seeds and rakes. This year, it's going to happen. I'm just praying my skeezy neighbor won't steal my veggies.
- G continues to do well with the Melatonin. I still love Melatonin.
Sunday, March 30, 2008
Melatonin, You're My Hero!
Wednesday night, we began G on Melatonin as his doctors' suggested for his sleep problems. Every night since has been a small miracle.
Two nights, G was asleep on his book before his reading time was over. Last night, after G bumped his head in bed, I laid down with him, and rubbed his back gently. Before I knew it, he was asleep, breathing deeply, his body still beneath my hand. I was completely stunned.
Even though there have still been meltdowns, G's overall attitude has improved. Last night when he was on the verge of a fit, he even removed himself to his room for a few minutes to shout it out, returning shortly. I've seen him sit quietly, relaxed, instead of spinning and hopping around like a mad man. He has shown me affection I haven't seen in ages, even making me a get well card for my head cold.
It's amazing what a few good nights rest can do. Now if I could only figure out how to get one myself.....
Friday, March 28, 2008
Haiku Friday- Friggin Snow
Woke up this morning
White crap falling from the sky
Spring snow is evil
Had to scrape my car
Thought that was over for now
Should have known better
New England weather
So tired of the snow fall
Beg for it to go
That's right, this morning I woke up to my car coated in snow, while more of it fell from the sky. It's still snowing as I sit here, and they're calling for several inches. Yesterday it was 50 degrees. Sometimes I really hate living in New England...
Tuesday, March 25, 2008
G Has Autism
Monday was the day of G's full evaluation, the one we've waited for over a year to receive. We spent the day answering questions, listening to G answer questions, watching G be examined physically, watching as G played and interacted with the doctors. I went through it all, my stomach in knot, wondering what each doctor was writing down, if G was doing things "right".
At the end of the day, we spoke with the doctor while G played computer games in the next room. The first thing that she told us, was that G was astoundingly smart. In fact, he has and IQ of 122 (confirming once and for all that my children are indeed smarter than me). With that said, she went on to explain that G did in fact have a mild case of Aspergers.
Even though we have known that for so long, finally hearing it out loud still hit me, making my brain freeze and stealing the air from my chest for a brief moment.
We were told to start G on Melatonin for his sleep problems, and to look into getting him OT through school, and exploring socialization groups. She advised us to stay calm in the midst of his fits, to help him with joint compressions, and to stop struggling so much over food. She told us to look into the Maine Autism Network, and wished us luck, assuring us that G was a wonderful and extremely bright boy.
And G is still G no matter what. His amazing teacher called me yesterday to let me know she was having G join a new math club at school, and he continued to be a "dear" in his classroom. Last night we struggled through yet another meltdown. Tonight, we will begin the Melatonin. Now that we k now for sure what's going on, we can work to help G the best we can. And maybe find a little help for ourselves along the way.
Friday, March 21, 2008
Haiku Friday- I Did It!!!!!
Letter now in hand.
I can't believe they want me.
My dream coming true.
I did it, got in!
Grad school is in my future.
August starts it all.
Worries, money fears.
I will hardly see the kids.
Hard work and papers.
Can GH do it?
Handle the bills and the kids?
Can this all happen?
That's right, it's happened. The college I've applied to has decided I'm good enough to enter their super selective graduate program to achieve teaching certification and my Master's degree in Education. In 9 short months, they will pack me full of courses, internship hours, and general teaching know-how. In 9 short months, I'll be ready to be a teacher.
The program starts in August and runs through May. I keep telling myself that we'll be able to to it, to sacrifice, and struggle to make this happen. I know I'm asking a LOT of my family. I will hardly see my kids as the days start early and go until around 7pm. Weekends will be full of papers, and research. GH will have to go out and get a real job, and handle the finances, the dinners, the appointments, etc. We will have no money, no time.
This means the next few months will be full of putting away every penny into savings. It will mean enjoying every relaxing moment we share together. It will mean shoring up our resources, preparing, and steeling ourselves for the months to come.
But in the end, I'll be able to become a teacher. I will achieve my dream, and have a real career. I'll be able to start thinking about finally buying a house, and working on other dreams. Sometimes, good things really do happen if you try hard enough, and dream long enough.....
Wednesday, March 19, 2008
Being Broke 101
In the many months that GH has been without a job, I've become a bone fide expert on being broke. Yes that's right, broke, not frugal, as frugal is a word for people who actually have money but are saving up for things like a house, a new car, or a fluffy new poodle. Frugal is a word for people who choose to cut back. Broke is a word for those of us who have seen our bank accounts dip below $10.
Now that we've cleared that up, I'm willing to share my broke living tips, free of charge, though frugal people are welcome to send donations- no poodles please.
Broke Ass Tips
1. Ramen Noodles are your friend. Now, I'm not suggesting you feed these to your kids, as their nutritional value is zero, but they are perfect for a cheap lunch for grown ups. After all, I think Ramen is Chinese for "Cheap Ass".You can take them to work. You can eat them at home. You can juggle them for cheap entertainment! Add a few leftover veggies or meats and it's like eating a real meal. If people look at you funny for eating this college dorm staple, just tell them it's a new fabulous diet.
2. Leftovers are also your friend. Never throw out a leftover. NEVER. This is an important commandment of being broke ass. Leftover roast and veggies can be sandwiches, or beef veggie soup. Those mashed potatoes? Tomorrow night's potato pancakes. And don't forget, all leftovers can be put in the freezer for later use. Think like a Native American- every part of the leftover is sacred and useful.
3. Go shopping armed with a list. The grocery list is your most powerful weapon. Use it wisely. Make a list of essentials only. If you can manage to plan ahead for your week's meals, you'll be doing even better. Stick to the list. Remember, Ben & Jerry's is not an essential.
4. Change is awesome. I've always kept an "oh crap" emergency money jar of all my loose change. This is for when I have no money for gas to get to work, or run out of milk before payday. I hide this jar from both GH and the children. However, I'm not above stealing GH's loose change and putting it in the jar if he's foolish enough to leave it laying around. Love this jar. Cherish this jar. Guard this jar with your life.
5. Don't be afraid to be cold. My thermostat has only gone above 66 degrees on a few special occasions this year. Keep your socks on, wear sweaters, and curl up with a blankie. Spring will be here soon. Cheap heating fuel will not.
6. Pipe cleaners- good cheap fun. "Look kids, its a bendy worm. Now it's a G! Here's a K! And er, another worm..."
7. Borrowing. Borrow movies from friends and neighbors. Borrow books from the library. Borrow inspiration and support from other bloggers- after all, you know you'll give it back in the end :)
Of course there's more, but time is money, and I'm off to knit pipe cleaners into the new wardrobe I can't afford.
Please feel free to share your best "Broke Ass" tips.
Now that we've cleared that up, I'm willing to share my broke living tips, free of charge, though frugal people are welcome to send donations- no poodles please.
Broke Ass Tips
1. Ramen Noodles are your friend. Now, I'm not suggesting you feed these to your kids, as their nutritional value is zero, but they are perfect for a cheap lunch for grown ups. After all, I think Ramen is Chinese for "Cheap Ass".You can take them to work. You can eat them at home. You can juggle them for cheap entertainment! Add a few leftover veggies or meats and it's like eating a real meal. If people look at you funny for eating this college dorm staple, just tell them it's a new fabulous diet.
2. Leftovers are also your friend. Never throw out a leftover. NEVER. This is an important commandment of being broke ass. Leftover roast and veggies can be sandwiches, or beef veggie soup. Those mashed potatoes? Tomorrow night's potato pancakes. And don't forget, all leftovers can be put in the freezer for later use. Think like a Native American- every part of the leftover is sacred and useful.
3. Go shopping armed with a list. The grocery list is your most powerful weapon. Use it wisely. Make a list of essentials only. If you can manage to plan ahead for your week's meals, you'll be doing even better. Stick to the list. Remember, Ben & Jerry's is not an essential.
4. Change is awesome. I've always kept an "oh crap" emergency money jar of all my loose change. This is for when I have no money for gas to get to work, or run out of milk before payday. I hide this jar from both GH and the children. However, I'm not above stealing GH's loose change and putting it in the jar if he's foolish enough to leave it laying around. Love this jar. Cherish this jar. Guard this jar with your life.
5. Don't be afraid to be cold. My thermostat has only gone above 66 degrees on a few special occasions this year. Keep your socks on, wear sweaters, and curl up with a blankie. Spring will be here soon. Cheap heating fuel will not.
6. Pipe cleaners- good cheap fun. "Look kids, its a bendy worm. Now it's a G! Here's a K! And er, another worm..."
7. Borrowing. Borrow movies from friends and neighbors. Borrow books from the library. Borrow inspiration and support from other bloggers- after all, you know you'll give it back in the end :)
Of course there's more, but time is money, and I'm off to knit pipe cleaners into the new wardrobe I can't afford.
Please feel free to share your best "Broke Ass" tips.
Wednesday, March 12, 2008
Things and Stuff
I've been a lousy blogger lately- sometimes life just gets in the way. This whole time change business has my internal workings all in a funk, and exhaustion has been killing me all week. It's amazing what a one hour shift can do.
On the bright side, I had an amazing meeting with a talented group of Maine crafters this past weekend. It was nice to chat with other crafty adults, and exchange adoration over our various items. Go crafts!
Even better however, was that this weekend I received a letter letting us know that our family is now covered by state health insurance, after applying for the second time. We're finally broke enough to qualify. Way to be poor! Money aside, at least now we can afford to get sick, which is great considering what a total klutz my K is.
And speaking of money, GH's amazing grandmother sent us a check, as she knows we're struggling right now. It's a real kick in the crotch to my pride, but a gift we can't turn down at the moment. After all, we have tons of fun things we need to buy, like socks for G, whose current socks are more hole than material. And who knows, maybe, if I'm real lucky, socks for me as well. Sheer luxury.
On a down note, I have a bad feeling I'm not going to be accepted into graduate school. I placed a call to the admissions office last week to ask when decision letters would be sent out. She asked my name, and after I gave it to her there was a pause- and then she let me know letters would be going out at the end of the month. I think if I had gotten in, she would have told me. Why else would she have asked for my name? Looks like I may be getting the fabulous reject form letter. I'm trying to prepare myself for the blow, the whole time praying out of the other side of my mouth that it isn't actually going to happen. All I can do is continue to wait, and deal with it when it comes, either way. Here's to hope!
On the bright side, I had an amazing meeting with a talented group of Maine crafters this past weekend. It was nice to chat with other crafty adults, and exchange adoration over our various items. Go crafts!
Even better however, was that this weekend I received a letter letting us know that our family is now covered by state health insurance, after applying for the second time. We're finally broke enough to qualify. Way to be poor! Money aside, at least now we can afford to get sick, which is great considering what a total klutz my K is.
And speaking of money, GH's amazing grandmother sent us a check, as she knows we're struggling right now. It's a real kick in the crotch to my pride, but a gift we can't turn down at the moment. After all, we have tons of fun things we need to buy, like socks for G, whose current socks are more hole than material. And who knows, maybe, if I'm real lucky, socks for me as well. Sheer luxury.
On a down note, I have a bad feeling I'm not going to be accepted into graduate school. I placed a call to the admissions office last week to ask when decision letters would be sent out. She asked my name, and after I gave it to her there was a pause- and then she let me know letters would be going out at the end of the month. I think if I had gotten in, she would have told me. Why else would she have asked for my name? Looks like I may be getting the fabulous reject form letter. I'm trying to prepare myself for the blow, the whole time praying out of the other side of my mouth that it isn't actually going to happen. All I can do is continue to wait, and deal with it when it comes, either way. Here's to hope!
Wednesday, March 05, 2008
Melt Down City
After enjoying a relatively lengthy period of no melt downs, G has decided to bring them back in full force. The past few days have been a careful dance of trying not to set him off, while still trying to enforce household rules.
The night before last, the house was ringing with the familiar shouts of "I hate this place!" "I hate everything!" etc. The walls shook as he kicked at his door and tossed toys on his floor. We gritted our teeth and waited for it to peak before trying to bring him down to get him in his bed.
As I held him and tried to ease his hitching sobs, he confided to me that he didn't want to be smart anymore. When I asked him why, he said he couldn't handle things being on his mind all the time, that his brain was too busy. I told him that is why he needs sleep, to give his brain time to rest, as I'm pretty sure he's back to not sleeping well again. My heart ached for him, as it always does.
Luckily, we managed to finally get insurance worked out for G, which means we'll finally be able to get his full evaluation done on March 24th. Until then, we go through the familiar dance, doing our best, and praying that answers, and maybe some help, is on the horizon.
The night before last, the house was ringing with the familiar shouts of "I hate this place!" "I hate everything!" etc. The walls shook as he kicked at his door and tossed toys on his floor. We gritted our teeth and waited for it to peak before trying to bring him down to get him in his bed.
As I held him and tried to ease his hitching sobs, he confided to me that he didn't want to be smart anymore. When I asked him why, he said he couldn't handle things being on his mind all the time, that his brain was too busy. I told him that is why he needs sleep, to give his brain time to rest, as I'm pretty sure he's back to not sleeping well again. My heart ached for him, as it always does.
Luckily, we managed to finally get insurance worked out for G, which means we'll finally be able to get his full evaluation done on March 24th. Until then, we go through the familiar dance, doing our best, and praying that answers, and maybe some help, is on the horizon.
Monday, March 03, 2008
Weekend in a Nutshell
Weekend Recap
- K lost her first tooth, which is a relief as her adult tooth is already coming in behind it.
- Used both the new deep fryer and waffle maker, my big tax refund splurges.
- Forced my family to accompany me to the beach, where we froze our butts off collecting winter sea glass.
- Actually made, and partially made, some new jewelry.
- Was accepted into the Boston South End Market to sell my crafts this summer.
- Sent out a scholarship application on the day it was due.
- Never got around to sewing the pants I was supposed to fix for clients at work.
- Ate fried chicken and collard greens.....mmmmmmm
- Joined Blissfully Domestic
- Didn't manage to get the nap I wanted, again.
- K lost her first tooth, which is a relief as her adult tooth is already coming in behind it.
- Used both the new deep fryer and waffle maker, my big tax refund splurges.
- Forced my family to accompany me to the beach, where we froze our butts off collecting winter sea glass.
- Actually made, and partially made, some new jewelry.
- Was accepted into the Boston South End Market to sell my crafts this summer.
- Sent out a scholarship application on the day it was due.
- Never got around to sewing the pants I was supposed to fix for clients at work.
- Ate fried chicken and collard greens.....mmmmmmm
- Joined Blissfully Domestic
- Didn't manage to get the nap I wanted, again.
Wednesday, February 27, 2008
They're Ba-ack... And Other Stuff
The kids have officially returned from their uber-vacation in Vermont. They were well spoiled, terribly indulged, over stimulated, and generally exhausted. G wept the entire ride home, wailing that he missed grandma, and his cousins, and begged to move back to Vermont. I'd be lying if I said it didn't make GH and I a little sad.
Fortunately, the kids seem to have slid seamlessly back into school. G has had a few mini-meltdowns, but so far, so good. They've both been on the over tired side, and have been back at their bickering, which my mother claimed they didn't do once in Vermont.
While the week away from the kids offered fun time and relaxation time, it also offered me a lot of personal reflection time. The conclusion was not good.
Like so many other moms I know, I've found my life sidetracked from one directed towards dreams and desires, to one focused on necessity. There are so many things I've wanted to do with my life and my career, but instead, I find myself working at I job that's difficult, pays little, and is outside my field of study. Every day I wonder why I spent 4 years putting myself through college, studying what I loved, just to end up working a job I'm not passionate about just to pay the bills.
In the past few months, I've been making efforts to go back to college to get my teaching certification, as I've blogged about. That's one dream I'm working on achieving, though I don't know if it will happen in the end.
Then, in the past week, another dream has resurfaced- one of opening my own store, selling my jewelry and other handmade items. I think I could do it, make it work. I have a good friend who's interested and would make a great partner. I went out and bought books on how to own a retail shop, write a business plan, etc. I know it's achievable. But will I ever take the leap? Probably not.
Unfortunately, the reality of bills and time constraints limit my possibilities. While I never resent being a mother, I know it's going to make a lot of things impossible, or at least put them on hold for a long time. And yet it eats at me, the thoughts that I should be doing something big, something I love, something I can be proud of. I should be more than an overweight mom, working 40 + hours a week at a job that is thankless and drains me to the core.
And so I keep on dreaming. Sometimes, it's all you can do.
Fortunately, the kids seem to have slid seamlessly back into school. G has had a few mini-meltdowns, but so far, so good. They've both been on the over tired side, and have been back at their bickering, which my mother claimed they didn't do once in Vermont.
While the week away from the kids offered fun time and relaxation time, it also offered me a lot of personal reflection time. The conclusion was not good.
Like so many other moms I know, I've found my life sidetracked from one directed towards dreams and desires, to one focused on necessity. There are so many things I've wanted to do with my life and my career, but instead, I find myself working at I job that's difficult, pays little, and is outside my field of study. Every day I wonder why I spent 4 years putting myself through college, studying what I loved, just to end up working a job I'm not passionate about just to pay the bills.
In the past few months, I've been making efforts to go back to college to get my teaching certification, as I've blogged about. That's one dream I'm working on achieving, though I don't know if it will happen in the end.
Then, in the past week, another dream has resurfaced- one of opening my own store, selling my jewelry and other handmade items. I think I could do it, make it work. I have a good friend who's interested and would make a great partner. I went out and bought books on how to own a retail shop, write a business plan, etc. I know it's achievable. But will I ever take the leap? Probably not.
Unfortunately, the reality of bills and time constraints limit my possibilities. While I never resent being a mother, I know it's going to make a lot of things impossible, or at least put them on hold for a long time. And yet it eats at me, the thoughts that I should be doing something big, something I love, something I can be proud of. I should be more than an overweight mom, working 40 + hours a week at a job that is thankless and drains me to the core.
And so I keep on dreaming. Sometimes, it's all you can do.
Wednesday, February 20, 2008
Lazy Days
The kids have been gone since Sunday afternoon. The house is quiet, and feels darker and colder. No screaming and shouting, no lights left on all over the house, and no complaints about the heat being too low.
I have happily sprawled out all of my jewelry making supplies in the living room, secure in the knowladge that my beads won't get snatched by little fingers or other items lost under the couch. I've watched grown-up TV shows and crafted in peace.
GH and I have gone to lunch and eaten hot wings until we burst. We went out to dinner, and were seated like lightning at a table for two. We've eaten dinner late, and drank wine in the living room. We made spinich and didn't hear one cry of outrage.
These precious days seem to be flying by. There are a lot of things I want to tackle this week, and I hope to get them all done. It's a lot of living to cram into one tiny week.
And each night, I call the kids. They both sound so happy on the phone, but profess to miss me in sincere tones. I can hear their voices echoing in the empty house. Though I enjoy the time apart, I can't wait to see them again at the end of the week.
I have happily sprawled out all of my jewelry making supplies in the living room, secure in the knowladge that my beads won't get snatched by little fingers or other items lost under the couch. I've watched grown-up TV shows and crafted in peace.
GH and I have gone to lunch and eaten hot wings until we burst. We went out to dinner, and were seated like lightning at a table for two. We've eaten dinner late, and drank wine in the living room. We made spinich and didn't hear one cry of outrage.
These precious days seem to be flying by. There are a lot of things I want to tackle this week, and I hope to get them all done. It's a lot of living to cram into one tiny week.
And each night, I call the kids. They both sound so happy on the phone, but profess to miss me in sincere tones. I can hear their voices echoing in the empty house. Though I enjoy the time apart, I can't wait to see them again at the end of the week.
Friday, February 15, 2008
Haiku Friday
Graduate school looms,
Will they accept me? Who knows!
Forever waiting
Next week, no kids home
Vacation with grandparents
Realaxation time
Next week will be bliss
February Vacation!
Kids gone to Vermont
I will miss them, yes
But kids will be loved much more
After a week gone
We will eat seafood
Stinky cheese and good wine. Yeah!
Foods for only two
Oh yes, you heard right. My wonderful parents are taking the kids away to Vermont for an entire week for their February vacation. Come Sunday they'll be on their way to a week of skiing with their cousins and being spoiled rotten by Grandma and Pappa.
And GH and I? Oh, we'll be busy. Busy watching adult shows on the living room television. Busy eating delicious foods the kids won't touch. Busy working on crafts undisturbed. Busy cleaning the house only once- and enjoying it staying that way for an entire week. Busy listening to the sounds of a silent house, no bikering, no whining, no begging.
And yes, busy missing the kids. I'm sure a week apart will do us all good, and we'll all love each other all the more when the week is over. That's the theory anyways...
Tuesday, February 12, 2008
How G Is Different
*WARNING- This post contains vomit, barf and other bodily fluids. Continue at your own risk*
Yesterday, I spent my one, lovely day off curled up in bed with a nasty stomach bug. Cramps, nausea, and a case of the runs you read about in scientific journals, caused me to drift in and out of consciousnesss, and miss out on the house cleaning, craft making and general relaxing that I look forward to all week. Such is life.
This morning, I dragged myself out of bed after hitting snooze for the third time, and willed myself not to vomit as I lurched to the bathroom. And at the bathroom door...... a big pile of barf. I jerked my foot back from nearly landing in it, and fought with my gag reflex while shouting for GH to come out and help me. At first, I thought it was cat vomit. But after a moment, I realized it had to belong to one of the children.
As I grabbed paper towels and began mopping the floor, I realized the toilet was full of vomit too. How on earth could one of the kids puked so much and called for me or GH? I was worried. Should we go in and check on the kids?
Just as my paranoia began to kick into overdrive, G's door creaked open slowly, and his little head poked out.
Me: G, honey, did you get sick last night?
G: Yeah
Me: Why didn't you wake me up? I would have helped you.
G: I don't know. I just went back to bed.
Me: Are you o.k.? Do you still feel sick?
G: I'm fine. *pulls head back into his room*
And that's just it. Even at 7, G doesn't need me like other little kids need their mom. He doesn't sob and cling when he has a tummy ache. He doesn't call out for me in the middle of the night when he's been sick all over the floor. If it had been K, her pained shrieks would have alerted the entire house to her illness, and I would have spent the rest of the night stroking her head and singing her lullabyes. But not my boy. Not my G.
I have to admit, it hurts a bit, to feel so unneeded. To know that he was so sick and never once called out to me. To know that he didn't think to need me. And I hurt for him, to be be so sick and alone, without me, even if he didn't know he needed me. We only have so long to comfort and protect our little ones, that being shut out from even one vulnerable moment is hard to come to terms with. But that's just who G is. He doesn't seek the emotional comfort that other kids do, and I have to live with the fact that he just doesn't need me the same way K does. But how do I live with the fact that I still need him to need me?
Yesterday, I spent my one, lovely day off curled up in bed with a nasty stomach bug. Cramps, nausea, and a case of the runs you read about in scientific journals, caused me to drift in and out of consciousnesss, and miss out on the house cleaning, craft making and general relaxing that I look forward to all week. Such is life.
This morning, I dragged myself out of bed after hitting snooze for the third time, and willed myself not to vomit as I lurched to the bathroom. And at the bathroom door...... a big pile of barf. I jerked my foot back from nearly landing in it, and fought with my gag reflex while shouting for GH to come out and help me. At first, I thought it was cat vomit. But after a moment, I realized it had to belong to one of the children.
As I grabbed paper towels and began mopping the floor, I realized the toilet was full of vomit too. How on earth could one of the kids puked so much and called for me or GH? I was worried. Should we go in and check on the kids?
Just as my paranoia began to kick into overdrive, G's door creaked open slowly, and his little head poked out.
Me: G, honey, did you get sick last night?
G: Yeah
Me: Why didn't you wake me up? I would have helped you.
G: I don't know. I just went back to bed.
Me: Are you o.k.? Do you still feel sick?
G: I'm fine. *pulls head back into his room*
And that's just it. Even at 7, G doesn't need me like other little kids need their mom. He doesn't sob and cling when he has a tummy ache. He doesn't call out for me in the middle of the night when he's been sick all over the floor. If it had been K, her pained shrieks would have alerted the entire house to her illness, and I would have spent the rest of the night stroking her head and singing her lullabyes. But not my boy. Not my G.
I have to admit, it hurts a bit, to feel so unneeded. To know that he was so sick and never once called out to me. To know that he didn't think to need me. And I hurt for him, to be be so sick and alone, without me, even if he didn't know he needed me. We only have so long to comfort and protect our little ones, that being shut out from even one vulnerable moment is hard to come to terms with. But that's just who G is. He doesn't seek the emotional comfort that other kids do, and I have to live with the fact that he just doesn't need me the same way K does. But how do I live with the fact that I still need him to need me?
Tuesday, February 05, 2008
In The Air
Yesterday was the big interview. I was so nerved up that I spent my morning researching teaching philosophies, and trying to prep answers for questions I didn't know.
When I went to iron my good button down "grown-up lady" short, my iron left behind a rusty stain. I sprayed with Shout, scrubbed with water, and swore like a sailor, but it was beyond a quick fix. Frantically, I tore through my closet, looking for anything semi-professional that still fit me. I put on a black shirt dress, which looked nice, but depressing- the last time I wore it was to my grandmother's funeral. I tore through the rest of my limited wardrobe, bemoaning the fact that I worked in a casual office where jeans and long-sleeved shirts were the norm.
Finally I settled on black slacks (a bit snug, but workable) and my fancy red sweater with the drapey cowl neck. Donning my newly made sea glass necklace and favorite pair of earrings, I applied a heavy layer of makeup to hide the stress blemishes, and prayed I wouldn't vomit on anybody.
I arrived early, due to my anxiety over getting lost, and waited on a bench next to another woman. After a brief chat, I discovered she was trying to go back to school after 10 years, and she was I-want-to-vomit nervous as well. She helped ease my fears about being the only mom trying to go back to school after years of being out of the formal education system. Unfortunately, she was dressed a lot nicer than me, and her skin was picture perfect. It made me kinda wanna push her down a flight of stairs, but instead I smiled and wished her luck.
Once I was in the interview room, seated across the table from the two uber-professional female professors, I think my IQ dropped by about 70 points. I think I answered the questions appropriately, but I could hear myself ramble and laugh nervously. It took a mighty effort to make eye contact as my eyes rolled heavenward, hoping some entity had placed brilliant, witty answers on the ceiling. I prayed I was making sense as the words rolled out of my mouth.
As the interview came to a close, I asked when I could expect to be notified if I'd been accepted or not. They weren't sure exactly when, and explained it was a fairly long process, and there was a whole second round of applications to consider. However, at the end, they made a remark that I should expect to be very busy at the beginning of August. The program begins in August. Was this a veiled hint that I could expect to be accepted? My brain was so addled that I tried not to make much of it.
On my way out, I asked the secretary if she could give me a clearer idea of when acceptance letters would go out. She said around the end of March. Plenty of time to worry, to try to recall my jumbled responses and kick myself in the shins repeatedly.
When I went to iron my good button down "grown-up lady" short, my iron left behind a rusty stain. I sprayed with Shout, scrubbed with water, and swore like a sailor, but it was beyond a quick fix. Frantically, I tore through my closet, looking for anything semi-professional that still fit me. I put on a black shirt dress, which looked nice, but depressing- the last time I wore it was to my grandmother's funeral. I tore through the rest of my limited wardrobe, bemoaning the fact that I worked in a casual office where jeans and long-sleeved shirts were the norm.
Finally I settled on black slacks (a bit snug, but workable) and my fancy red sweater with the drapey cowl neck. Donning my newly made sea glass necklace and favorite pair of earrings, I applied a heavy layer of makeup to hide the stress blemishes, and prayed I wouldn't vomit on anybody.
I arrived early, due to my anxiety over getting lost, and waited on a bench next to another woman. After a brief chat, I discovered she was trying to go back to school after 10 years, and she was I-want-to-vomit nervous as well. She helped ease my fears about being the only mom trying to go back to school after years of being out of the formal education system. Unfortunately, she was dressed a lot nicer than me, and her skin was picture perfect. It made me kinda wanna push her down a flight of stairs, but instead I smiled and wished her luck.
Once I was in the interview room, seated across the table from the two uber-professional female professors, I think my IQ dropped by about 70 points. I think I answered the questions appropriately, but I could hear myself ramble and laugh nervously. It took a mighty effort to make eye contact as my eyes rolled heavenward, hoping some entity had placed brilliant, witty answers on the ceiling. I prayed I was making sense as the words rolled out of my mouth.
As the interview came to a close, I asked when I could expect to be notified if I'd been accepted or not. They weren't sure exactly when, and explained it was a fairly long process, and there was a whole second round of applications to consider. However, at the end, they made a remark that I should expect to be very busy at the beginning of August. The program begins in August. Was this a veiled hint that I could expect to be accepted? My brain was so addled that I tried not to make much of it.
On my way out, I asked the secretary if she could give me a clearer idea of when acceptance letters would go out. She said around the end of March. Plenty of time to worry, to try to recall my jumbled responses and kick myself in the shins repeatedly.
Friday, February 01, 2008
Maybe?
I recieved the news the past week that I was selected to interview for the graduate program I'm applying for. The interview is on Monday, and since recieving the news, I've been a nervous wreck. Not only that, but I've been moody and irritable. This news, that I've passed through the first round and was deemed good enough to interview, has me all tangled up.
On the one hand, I'm ecstatic. I'm one step closer to getting into the program. To being a teacher. To actually achieving my dream. To finally proving to myself, that I'm good enough. I find myself saying things that begin with "When I go back to school..." I've applied for a scholarship. In my brain, I'm already prepping my life for my grand return to college.
Then there's the other hand. The hand that is trembling in terror and uncertainty. I'm am plauged by doubt, and try to set myself up to be prepared for not being accepted into the program after all. I have vivd visions of making an ass out of myself during the interview. I have anxiety attacks while thinking that if I'm accepted, I won't be able to get the financial aid to go back. No one will ever give me a scholarship. My temples throb as I imagine how difficult the coursework will be, that I won't be as smart or as capeable as the other students. It goes on and on. This is the stronger hand, the one that grips me and chokes me, and refuses to let go.
So I will do what I've always done- take a deep breath and try to get from moment to moment, and before I know it, the interview will be over. And then I will wait again. And then I'll get an answer and figure it out from there.
On the one hand, I'm ecstatic. I'm one step closer to getting into the program. To being a teacher. To actually achieving my dream. To finally proving to myself, that I'm good enough. I find myself saying things that begin with "When I go back to school..." I've applied for a scholarship. In my brain, I'm already prepping my life for my grand return to college.
Then there's the other hand. The hand that is trembling in terror and uncertainty. I'm am plauged by doubt, and try to set myself up to be prepared for not being accepted into the program after all. I have vivd visions of making an ass out of myself during the interview. I have anxiety attacks while thinking that if I'm accepted, I won't be able to get the financial aid to go back. No one will ever give me a scholarship. My temples throb as I imagine how difficult the coursework will be, that I won't be as smart or as capeable as the other students. It goes on and on. This is the stronger hand, the one that grips me and chokes me, and refuses to let go.
So I will do what I've always done- take a deep breath and try to get from moment to moment, and before I know it, the interview will be over. And then I will wait again. And then I'll get an answer and figure it out from there.
Monday, January 28, 2008
Children's Poems
This post is a part of Painted Maypole's Monday Mission. This week's mission is to write a children's style poem or story.
* * * * * * * * * * * * * * *
A Day In The Life Of K
It's a joy to be a pretty girl,
My golden locks I twist and twirl.
I love to paint my nails bright pink,
And act just like my poo don't stink.
When things aren't going quite my way
I whine and cry and wail all day.
My high pitched shrieks make parents crazy,
And makes their brains all kinds of hazy.
My brother makes me really mental
And with him I'm not always gentle.
I've been known to hit and fight
although I know it isn't right.
When I'm happy, I'm as sweet as can be
Honey and sugar has nothing on me.
My dulcet tones make birdies sing
My smile can cure most anything
To Hannah Montana I like to rock out,
Her music makes me scream and shout.
A rock star I will be someday
And all my mommie's bills I'll pay
A Day In The Life Of G
There are days when things are tough,
Expressing myself is pretty rough.
I ask the same questions again and again,
It's math books that I love to scan.
Star Wars is my greatest love,
From my sis I get a shove.
Food and I are enemies,
I don't even like most cheese.
Quiet and still, my affections are rare
But when I am sweet, I'm beyond compare.
My hugs are few, and kisses less,
But I'll give you love when you're under stress
I love my mom, I love my dad,
Even when they make me mad.
Though I may scream and I may shout
Of my true heart, there is no doubt
* * * * * * * * * * * * * * *
A Day In The Life Of K
It's a joy to be a pretty girl,
My golden locks I twist and twirl.
I love to paint my nails bright pink,
And act just like my poo don't stink.
When things aren't going quite my way
I whine and cry and wail all day.
My high pitched shrieks make parents crazy,
And makes their brains all kinds of hazy.
My brother makes me really mental
And with him I'm not always gentle.
I've been known to hit and fight
although I know it isn't right.
When I'm happy, I'm as sweet as can be
Honey and sugar has nothing on me.
My dulcet tones make birdies sing
My smile can cure most anything
To Hannah Montana I like to rock out,
Her music makes me scream and shout.
A rock star I will be someday
And all my mommie's bills I'll pay
A Day In The Life Of G
There are days when things are tough,
Expressing myself is pretty rough.
I ask the same questions again and again,
It's math books that I love to scan.
Star Wars is my greatest love,
From my sis I get a shove.
Food and I are enemies,
I don't even like most cheese.
Quiet and still, my affections are rare
But when I am sweet, I'm beyond compare.
My hugs are few, and kisses less,
But I'll give you love when you're under stress
I love my mom, I love my dad,
Even when they make me mad.
Though I may scream and I may shout
Of my true heart, there is no doubt
Sunday, January 27, 2008
Brotherly Love
Me: (relating the story of K's birth to my Mother-In-Law)... and then they had to suction out her lungs as soon as she was out. She didn't make a sound for the longest time, and I was so scared.
G: Why were you scared mom? Is it bad for babies to be quiet?
Me: Well G, when babies are born, they usually cry.
G: Why do they cry?
Me: Because being born is pretty scary. It's cold, and it's bright, and babies don't understand what's going on.
G: And K didn't cry?
Me: No
G: (after a thoughtful pause) Wow mom, K must be really brave. (in awe) She's so brave she didn't even cry when she was born.
And now back to our regularly scheduled sibling bickering...
G: Why were you scared mom? Is it bad for babies to be quiet?
Me: Well G, when babies are born, they usually cry.
G: Why do they cry?
Me: Because being born is pretty scary. It's cold, and it's bright, and babies don't understand what's going on.
G: And K didn't cry?
Me: No
G: (after a thoughtful pause) Wow mom, K must be really brave. (in awe) She's so brave she didn't even cry when she was born.
And now back to our regularly scheduled sibling bickering...
Tuesday, January 22, 2008
It's Sticky! It's Fun! It's Pure Evil!
When I came home the other night from work, I thought nothing of it to see K cruising around the house wearing a goofy hat. After all, K often wears a lot of strange things. It's part of being a fabulous princess/pop star with a unique sense of fashion.
After a bit, K resurfaced sans hat. As she turned around, I couldn't help but notice something wasn't quite right with the back of her head. After some squinting and head scratching, I called her over, and turned her around. This is the sight I was greeted by.
I gasped. I spluttered. I tipped my head.
Still there.
Now, I know what you're thinking: That's a whole lot of gum. But, here is where pure visuals lie, for, it wasn't gum, but Silly Putty.
Me: (trying to swallow my hysteria) K, where did you get Silly Putty?
K:I found it under the couch.
Me: (slowly turning 8 shades of purple while plucking at matted, sticky clumps of hair) And how did it get in your hair?
K: I put it there.
Ahh yes, because why on earth wouldn't you place a lump of Silly Putty on your head? Plugging my brain aneurysm with one finger, and plucking ineffectively at Silly Putty covered hair with the other, I shrieked for GH to bring me my computer, while in the same breath berating him for not noticing the Silly Putty covered head of our daughter, who informed me she had stuck it in her hair around lunch time.
After a quick Internet search, GH helpfully related to me that Silly Putty was a silicone based substance, so all we has to do was use something on her hair that broke down silicone. After screaming a few obscenities along the lines of "Who the hell knows what breaks down silicone!?!?" and ranting that I never took chemistry, GH proceeded to scroll down to where helpful mothers shared their own Silly-Putty-in-hair experiences.
After reading through the page, we decided that the hand sanitizer method sounded the most reasonable. Marching K up into the bathroom, I doused her putty covered locks in Purell, wrapped it in plastic wrap, and waited the suggested 20-60 minutes.
After 60 minutes (yeah, I waited the maximum just to be safe), I unwrapped K's hair and rinsed her head in the tub. And, miracle of miracles, the flesh colored goo came out of her hair.
Feeling relieved, I informed K just how lucky she was not to have had half of her hair cut off. I dried her hair, thanking the heavens for the Internet and web savvy moms. However, as the hair dried, I realized there was a problem. The place where the putty was was oddly sticky and greasy.
I doused her head with dish washing liquid. Shampoos, conditioners, even rubbing alcohol (another silicone destroying product- I swear I didn't invent that out of desperation) wouldn't take it away. After several days of washing, it's still oddly sticky and greasy in that one spot. I've made her wear her hair up to hide the remaining yuckiness.
I know it will wear out, eventually. Until then, I will continue to keep Silly Putty on my growing list of hated substances.
After a bit, K resurfaced sans hat. As she turned around, I couldn't help but notice something wasn't quite right with the back of her head. After some squinting and head scratching, I called her over, and turned her around. This is the sight I was greeted by.
I gasped. I spluttered. I tipped my head.
Still there.
Now, I know what you're thinking: That's a whole lot of gum. But, here is where pure visuals lie, for, it wasn't gum, but Silly Putty.
Me: (trying to swallow my hysteria) K, where did you get Silly Putty?
K:I found it under the couch.
Me: (slowly turning 8 shades of purple while plucking at matted, sticky clumps of hair) And how did it get in your hair?
K: I put it there.
Ahh yes, because why on earth wouldn't you place a lump of Silly Putty on your head? Plugging my brain aneurysm with one finger, and plucking ineffectively at Silly Putty covered hair with the other, I shrieked for GH to bring me my computer, while in the same breath berating him for not noticing the Silly Putty covered head of our daughter, who informed me she had stuck it in her hair around lunch time.
After a quick Internet search, GH helpfully related to me that Silly Putty was a silicone based substance, so all we has to do was use something on her hair that broke down silicone. After screaming a few obscenities along the lines of "Who the hell knows what breaks down silicone!?!?" and ranting that I never took chemistry, GH proceeded to scroll down to where helpful mothers shared their own Silly-Putty-in-hair experiences.
After reading through the page, we decided that the hand sanitizer method sounded the most reasonable. Marching K up into the bathroom, I doused her putty covered locks in Purell, wrapped it in plastic wrap, and waited the suggested 20-60 minutes.
After 60 minutes (yeah, I waited the maximum just to be safe), I unwrapped K's hair and rinsed her head in the tub. And, miracle of miracles, the flesh colored goo came out of her hair.
Feeling relieved, I informed K just how lucky she was not to have had half of her hair cut off. I dried her hair, thanking the heavens for the Internet and web savvy moms. However, as the hair dried, I realized there was a problem. The place where the putty was was oddly sticky and greasy.
I doused her head with dish washing liquid. Shampoos, conditioners, even rubbing alcohol (another silicone destroying product- I swear I didn't invent that out of desperation) wouldn't take it away. After several days of washing, it's still oddly sticky and greasy in that one spot. I've made her wear her hair up to hide the remaining yuckiness.
I know it will wear out, eventually. Until then, I will continue to keep Silly Putty on my growing list of hated substances.
Saturday, January 12, 2008
I Want To Be Hannah Montana When I Grow Up
Thanks to watching repetitious hours of the Disney channel due to winter storms and below zero temps, my 5-year-old K is madly in love with Hannah Montana.
(This poster actually lives on K's wall)
But what little girl isn't? I mean, you can't avoid Hannah Montana these days- she is everywhere! Hannah Montana shampoo, Hanna Montana sheets, Hannah Montana snacks. Seriously, if I see Hannah Montana toilet paper, I'm leaving the country.
Hannah Montana is in the the news constantly. Her tickets sell for thousands of dollars, and her concerts have been likened to Beetle mania. And yesterday? One of her songs was on my radio station! It's bad enough that I catch myself humming Hannah Montana tunes while fixing dinner, but now she's officially invaded my grown-up air waves.
When all is said and done though, I guess I find myself wishing I could be Hannah Montana. I mean, the girl has everything! Fame, popularity, more money than she could spend in a lifetime, and the adoration of little girls all over the country. The adoration of my little girl! (I bet if Hannah Montana told K she wasn't allowed to have a candy bar before dinner she wouldn't burst into tears and storm out of the room. But, I digress...)Grown-ups appreciate her too for her wholesome image and inspiring songs about girl power, and so on. Plus? Being 15 again would be great. I mean, that was ages before things stared traveling south. If I was my 15-year-old self again, I would definitely be rocking it on stage. So keep on rocking it Hannah. Before you're old. And fat. It will happen. (Please let me be alive to see it).
So Hannah, though I may lament your cheery beats as they pop around in my brain, my daughter loves you, which means I guess I do a little too. Just please stay off my grown-up air waves- it's one of my few adult sanctuaries. Oh, and please don't get pregnant. I really don't want to have to try to explain that one to my 5-year-old.....
(This poster actually lives on K's wall)
But what little girl isn't? I mean, you can't avoid Hannah Montana these days- she is everywhere! Hannah Montana shampoo, Hanna Montana sheets, Hannah Montana snacks. Seriously, if I see Hannah Montana toilet paper, I'm leaving the country.
Hannah Montana is in the the news constantly. Her tickets sell for thousands of dollars, and her concerts have been likened to Beetle mania. And yesterday? One of her songs was on my radio station! It's bad enough that I catch myself humming Hannah Montana tunes while fixing dinner, but now she's officially invaded my grown-up air waves.
When all is said and done though, I guess I find myself wishing I could be Hannah Montana. I mean, the girl has everything! Fame, popularity, more money than she could spend in a lifetime, and the adoration of little girls all over the country. The adoration of my little girl! (I bet if Hannah Montana told K she wasn't allowed to have a candy bar before dinner she wouldn't burst into tears and storm out of the room. But, I digress...)Grown-ups appreciate her too for her wholesome image and inspiring songs about girl power, and so on. Plus? Being 15 again would be great. I mean, that was ages before things stared traveling south. If I was my 15-year-old self again, I would definitely be rocking it on stage. So keep on rocking it Hannah. Before you're old. And fat. It will happen. (Please let me be alive to see it).
So Hannah, though I may lament your cheery beats as they pop around in my brain, my daughter loves you, which means I guess I do a little too. Just please stay off my grown-up air waves- it's one of my few adult sanctuaries. Oh, and please don't get pregnant. I really don't want to have to try to explain that one to my 5-year-old.....
Tuesday, January 08, 2008
I Did It!!
Yesterday I took my Praxis exam. I was so nervous I was shaking and nodding like a complete idiot when I got to the testing site, and I think the test administer thought I was a bit off.
After 4.5 (see my stellar new mathematical skills?) of staring at a computer screen and fighting anxiety induced stomach cramps, I hit the button to finish, and waited as two out of my three scores were computed instantly. I needed a 175 on each part in order to be accepted into the program I'm applying for.
The Results:
Reading- 185
Math-180
Yeah me!!!! After several years of not taking any kind of test, or performing any math functions outside of basic adding and subtracting, I still passed.
Last night I packaged up all of my application materials, and this morning sent them out first thing. Now I wait. For up to two months. Wait, and imagine all of the applications, better than mine, piling up in the college admissions office. Waiting, and hoping a call will come. Waiting...
At least I can feel good knowing that I tried. Now at least I'll know if I was good enough to get into the program. I'll be keeping my fingers crossed, praying that I am.
After 4.5 (see my stellar new mathematical skills?) of staring at a computer screen and fighting anxiety induced stomach cramps, I hit the button to finish, and waited as two out of my three scores were computed instantly. I needed a 175 on each part in order to be accepted into the program I'm applying for.
The Results:
Reading- 185
Math-180
Yeah me!!!! After several years of not taking any kind of test, or performing any math functions outside of basic adding and subtracting, I still passed.
Last night I packaged up all of my application materials, and this morning sent them out first thing. Now I wait. For up to two months. Wait, and imagine all of the applications, better than mine, piling up in the college admissions office. Waiting, and hoping a call will come. Waiting...
At least I can feel good knowing that I tried. Now at least I'll know if I was good enough to get into the program. I'll be keeping my fingers crossed, praying that I am.
Friday, January 04, 2008
I Love My Children But.....
I love both of my children. Dearly. But sometimes, sometimes, I'd really like send them both off to military school. Just for a little while. Just long enough for them to absorb enough discipline to keep them from terrorizing each other. For the concept of honor to sink in just far enough to keep them from ratting each other out for every imagined indiscretion. To be self-sufficient enough that they can get their own glass of water while I'm on the toilet.
In an effort to make up for lost quality time with the kids, I took vacation time from work while they were out of school for Christmas break. I imagined cuddle time, story time, loads of backing, and fun craft projects. What I got instead were two stir crazy children. Even though we took them to the movies, traveled to the world's best sledding hill, and had parades of seldom seen, exotic family members tramping through the house, it just wasn't enough. We build gingerbread houses, baked sugar cookies, and cut out snowflakes. Still, nothing compared to the sheer joy of constant whining, and sibling bickering.
Yesterday was the kid's first day back at school, and my first day back at work. I was ashamed at the relief I felt at the calm, steady murmur of adult voices. GH reclaimed the house with glee, and I suspect he snuck in a nap and some computer gaming time (ass). With the welcome break from each other, I thought the evening would be a breeze. Sometimes I can be a real dumb-ass. Instead of happy children, pleasantly tired from a fun day of friends and stimulating learning, I arrived home to a temper tantrum from G, and two over-tired, hungry, crabby insane little midgets. And GH? I expected a relaxed, calm, house husband with dinner on the table. Instead, I was greeted with a hubby frazzled by the assault of the children,battling raging temper tantrums, and fighting over after-school snacks. Dinner was a over an hour late, lending its self to the general crankiness.
Hopefully today will be a bit more on track. In the meantime, I fantasize about military school. Perhaps they would let me send GH as well.....
In an effort to make up for lost quality time with the kids, I took vacation time from work while they were out of school for Christmas break. I imagined cuddle time, story time, loads of backing, and fun craft projects. What I got instead were two stir crazy children. Even though we took them to the movies, traveled to the world's best sledding hill, and had parades of seldom seen, exotic family members tramping through the house, it just wasn't enough. We build gingerbread houses, baked sugar cookies, and cut out snowflakes. Still, nothing compared to the sheer joy of constant whining, and sibling bickering.
Yesterday was the kid's first day back at school, and my first day back at work. I was ashamed at the relief I felt at the calm, steady murmur of adult voices. GH reclaimed the house with glee, and I suspect he snuck in a nap and some computer gaming time (ass). With the welcome break from each other, I thought the evening would be a breeze. Sometimes I can be a real dumb-ass. Instead of happy children, pleasantly tired from a fun day of friends and stimulating learning, I arrived home to a temper tantrum from G, and two over-tired, hungry, crabby insane little midgets. And GH? I expected a relaxed, calm, house husband with dinner on the table. Instead, I was greeted with a hubby frazzled by the assault of the children,battling raging temper tantrums, and fighting over after-school snacks. Dinner was a over an hour late, lending its self to the general crankiness.
Hopefully today will be a bit more on track. In the meantime, I fantasize about military school. Perhaps they would let me send GH as well.....
Monday, December 31, 2007
New Year's Resolutions
Painted Maypole's Monday Mission this week is to make a list of New Year's Resolutions. Since she kept hers on a serious note, I will too, since it's something I've actually been giving a lot of thought to lately.
1.) Get accepted into the teacher certification graduate program. This is by far the most important resolution of all. This is my shot at having the career I've always wanted. This is my shot at being truly happy at what I'm doing. I'm working hard to get in, and I'm praying they'll accept me. I will succeed at this.
2.)Find a new job. The job I have now makes me miserable. It forces me to work Saturdays. Right now, I have to cling to it to pay the bills while GH still remains unemployed. This past week, I've been sending out my resume to every decent job I can find. I'm working on it as hard as I can, and I know something will pan out soon.
3.) Loose at least 20 pounds. My waistline keeps expanding, and it's high time it start moving in the other direction. Though this is a resolution I've made before, this year I intend to make it stick.
4.) Improve my jewelry making skills, and other art skills. I've really been working on improving myself as an artist, and this year I'd like to improve even further.
5.) Do more craft shows. Last year I began bringing my jewelry to craft shows. It really helped improve my confidence, and I met a lot of other great artists. This year I want to do more shows, and bring a wider range of art. I hope to do a lot better this year.
6.) Get something published professionally. So far the highlight of my writing career has been a few freelance articles in the local paper. This year, I'd like to see some of my writing in a real publication that people read. And, I'd like it to be something more creative than the local high school's academic decathlon (no joke, that was one of the articles I wrote.
7.) Start saving money. All right, this is something I've always been terrible at. Setting money aside is tough, especially when things are tight. This year, I will put money aside if it kills me. This year is the car breaks down, or I need emergency dental work, I resolve to have money set aside so it will not bankrupt us.
8.) Keep in better touch with my family. Losing my grandmother really drove home how important it is to keep in touch with family, no matter how busy I get. This year, I will send out cards, send out emails, and make sure to attend more family get togethers.
9.) Be a better mother. Spend more time with the kids. Be more patient. Do more fun activities. Be more patient. Show more affection. Be less stressed out. Did I mention be more patient?
We'll see how well this list holds up throughout the year. At least it's here for me to check in on down the road when I start to loose sight of what's important.....
1.) Get accepted into the teacher certification graduate program. This is by far the most important resolution of all. This is my shot at having the career I've always wanted. This is my shot at being truly happy at what I'm doing. I'm working hard to get in, and I'm praying they'll accept me. I will succeed at this.
2.)Find a new job. The job I have now makes me miserable. It forces me to work Saturdays. Right now, I have to cling to it to pay the bills while GH still remains unemployed. This past week, I've been sending out my resume to every decent job I can find. I'm working on it as hard as I can, and I know something will pan out soon.
3.) Loose at least 20 pounds. My waistline keeps expanding, and it's high time it start moving in the other direction. Though this is a resolution I've made before, this year I intend to make it stick.
4.) Improve my jewelry making skills, and other art skills. I've really been working on improving myself as an artist, and this year I'd like to improve even further.
5.) Do more craft shows. Last year I began bringing my jewelry to craft shows. It really helped improve my confidence, and I met a lot of other great artists. This year I want to do more shows, and bring a wider range of art. I hope to do a lot better this year.
6.) Get something published professionally. So far the highlight of my writing career has been a few freelance articles in the local paper. This year, I'd like to see some of my writing in a real publication that people read. And, I'd like it to be something more creative than the local high school's academic decathlon (no joke, that was one of the articles I wrote.
7.) Start saving money. All right, this is something I've always been terrible at. Setting money aside is tough, especially when things are tight. This year, I will put money aside if it kills me. This year is the car breaks down, or I need emergency dental work, I resolve to have money set aside so it will not bankrupt us.
8.) Keep in better touch with my family. Losing my grandmother really drove home how important it is to keep in touch with family, no matter how busy I get. This year, I will send out cards, send out emails, and make sure to attend more family get togethers.
9.) Be a better mother. Spend more time with the kids. Be more patient. Do more fun activities. Be more patient. Show more affection. Be less stressed out. Did I mention be more patient?
We'll see how well this list holds up throughout the year. At least it's here for me to check in on down the road when I start to loose sight of what's important.....
Sunday, December 30, 2007
Praxis Prep a.k.a I Still Suck at Math
Today I managed to find a wee bit of downtime to do some studying for my big Praxis exam, which I have to take for my application to the teaching certification program.
Though my former English professor assured me I would pass it no problem, I figured it never hurts to study and stress out about it until I have a bleeding ulcer.
So far, my studying has proved:
1.) I am still good at all all things English.
2.) I still blow at all things mathmatic.
3.) Math has not gotten any easier as I've gotten older. Despite the promises of many a math teacher, I do not use algebraic equations in everyday life. Ergo, I have forgotten how to do most algebraic equations.
4.) Numbers still make my brain hurt.
In conclusion, math is 1/3 of my test score. Looks like I'll be cozying up to fractions, decimals, and right angle triangles. Wish me luck with my super fun brain hemorage.
Though my former English professor assured me I would pass it no problem, I figured it never hurts to study and stress out about it until I have a bleeding ulcer.
So far, my studying has proved:
1.) I am still good at all all things English.
2.) I still blow at all things mathmatic.
3.) Math has not gotten any easier as I've gotten older. Despite the promises of many a math teacher, I do not use algebraic equations in everyday life. Ergo, I have forgotten how to do most algebraic equations.
4.) Numbers still make my brain hurt.
In conclusion, math is 1/3 of my test score. Looks like I'll be cozying up to fractions, decimals, and right angle triangles. Wish me luck with my super fun brain hemorage.
Thursday, December 27, 2007
Is It Over Yet?
Christmas is finally over, which means time to come out of hiding. Big sighs of relief fill the air, and the children finally began to stop shaking from the combination of sugar, exciting gifts, and visiting family. I am finally begining to be able to see my floor again.
I'm quite proud that I managed to get through the season, and even accomplish some of my list of wild ambitions. I actually sent out the Christmas cards. I made gingerbread houses with the kids. I finished almost all of the necklaces I wanted to give as gifts. Yeah me!
Now begins the time of empty bank accounts, deep thoughts as I ponder New Year's resolutions, and serious stress as I get everything together to apply to go back to school. On the plus side, I will have more time to blog, more time to create, and more time to focus on the ones I love, now that things are settliung back to normal. I even have fabulous photos to post..... eventually.
I'm quite proud that I managed to get through the season, and even accomplish some of my list of wild ambitions. I actually sent out the Christmas cards. I made gingerbread houses with the kids. I finished almost all of the necklaces I wanted to give as gifts. Yeah me!
Now begins the time of empty bank accounts, deep thoughts as I ponder New Year's resolutions, and serious stress as I get everything together to apply to go back to school. On the plus side, I will have more time to blog, more time to create, and more time to focus on the ones I love, now that things are settliung back to normal. I even have fabulous photos to post..... eventually.
Monday, December 17, 2007
The Holiday List of What Could Have Been
Full of the holiday spirit (i.e. frustration and guilt) I've decided to jump in on Painted Maypole's Monday Mission this week and create my own holiday inspired list.
My list is The List of Holiday Good Intentions, aka The List of Things I Really Meant to Do This Year for Christmas, But Will Not Complete:
1. The adorable little hand puppets I intended to make for my nieces and nephews. The materials sit in a bag, the googly eyes staring up at me accusingly, the super soft fake fur begging to stroked and loved.
2. The Christmas cards. Every year I vow to send these out. This year, I bought the cards and filled them out. They are now sitting in the box, waiting for cute pictures of the kids, stamps, and addresses. Maybe I'll get to it tomorrow.
3. A gingerbread house. I downloaded some spectacular gingerbread house plans from Bob Villa himself. Visions of adorable, edible villages dance in my head. Instead, I made some gingerbread men. Even those didn't manage to get icing.
4. Handmaking all my gifts. Please see previous post for all the lame details.
5. Listing new items on my Etsy site. I really wanted to take advantage of the holiday buying season to sell some lovely new items to potential buyers. But no, even the promise of extra Christmas money couldn't inspire me to find the extra 10 minutes to get this done.
So there you have it, the top 5 reasons why I suck at Christmas this year. I think my family should be pretty grateful we have a tree up at this point. So please, feel free to bask in the complete and utter failure of all my best holiday intentions.
My list is The List of Holiday Good Intentions, aka The List of Things I Really Meant to Do This Year for Christmas, But Will Not Complete:
1. The adorable little hand puppets I intended to make for my nieces and nephews. The materials sit in a bag, the googly eyes staring up at me accusingly, the super soft fake fur begging to stroked and loved.
2. The Christmas cards. Every year I vow to send these out. This year, I bought the cards and filled them out. They are now sitting in the box, waiting for cute pictures of the kids, stamps, and addresses. Maybe I'll get to it tomorrow.
3. A gingerbread house. I downloaded some spectacular gingerbread house plans from Bob Villa himself. Visions of adorable, edible villages dance in my head. Instead, I made some gingerbread men. Even those didn't manage to get icing.
4. Handmaking all my gifts. Please see previous post for all the lame details.
5. Listing new items on my Etsy site. I really wanted to take advantage of the holiday buying season to sell some lovely new items to potential buyers. But no, even the promise of extra Christmas money couldn't inspire me to find the extra 10 minutes to get this done.
So there you have it, the top 5 reasons why I suck at Christmas this year. I think my family should be pretty grateful we have a tree up at this point. So please, feel free to bask in the complete and utter failure of all my best holiday intentions.
Saturday, December 15, 2007
A Half-Assed Handmade Christmas
In my "spare time", I make jewelry, and various other crafts, and attempt to sell them on a site called Etsy. This site offers a great, super-supportive marketplace, and community for independent artists and crafters.
Well, this year, in the spirit of avoiding toy recalls, and support all things handmade, the lovely crafters at Etsy started a campaign to get people to give only handmade gifts this year, either made by yourself or a fellow crafter.
Even though I didn't stick the icon on my blog (because I'm lazy and HTML, even copied and pasted, still freaks me out, I took the pledge to keep my Christmas handmade.
For the women in my life, the easy answer was jewelry. They would all receive a piece of jewelry. The men would receive scarves, the only thing I'm capable of knitting. For all of the kids, I decided to make fun, timeless, hand puppets. Oh, and for certain families, quilts. No biggie.
With the best of intentions, I went out and bought all of the supplies. Yards of fabric for the quilts. Fake fur, googly eyes, and felt for puppets. Glass, chain, and beads for jewelry. Piles of yarn for knitting.
Then my grandmother passed and I spent an unplanned for week in Vermont. And then I decided to go back to school and needed study time for the PRAXIS exam. And then my bum tooth got infected and incapacitated me with days worth of pain, followed by days worth of antibiotics and Vicodin. And so on. All of these things and more stealing away precious days of gift making time.
In short, here is the handmade gift total as of now, 10 days before Christmas:
1 scarf in a light lime green no man will wear
7 half completed necklaces
I blow. Does it still count if I hand make the cards?
I will keep an ongoing total of what I manage to complete from my overblown ambitions. Feel free to laugh and point, and taunt me freely.
Well, this year, in the spirit of avoiding toy recalls, and support all things handmade, the lovely crafters at Etsy started a campaign to get people to give only handmade gifts this year, either made by yourself or a fellow crafter.
Even though I didn't stick the icon on my blog (because I'm lazy and HTML, even copied and pasted, still freaks me out, I took the pledge to keep my Christmas handmade.
For the women in my life, the easy answer was jewelry. They would all receive a piece of jewelry. The men would receive scarves, the only thing I'm capable of knitting. For all of the kids, I decided to make fun, timeless, hand puppets. Oh, and for certain families, quilts. No biggie.
With the best of intentions, I went out and bought all of the supplies. Yards of fabric for the quilts. Fake fur, googly eyes, and felt for puppets. Glass, chain, and beads for jewelry. Piles of yarn for knitting.
Then my grandmother passed and I spent an unplanned for week in Vermont. And then I decided to go back to school and needed study time for the PRAXIS exam. And then my bum tooth got infected and incapacitated me with days worth of pain, followed by days worth of antibiotics and Vicodin. And so on. All of these things and more stealing away precious days of gift making time.
In short, here is the handmade gift total as of now, 10 days before Christmas:
1 scarf in a light lime green no man will wear
7 half completed necklaces
I blow. Does it still count if I hand make the cards?
I will keep an ongoing total of what I manage to complete from my overblown ambitions. Feel free to laugh and point, and taunt me freely.
Wednesday, December 12, 2007
Life Changes
There's nothing like the passing of a loved one to make you take stock of your life, especially the things that are most important to you. It also makes the regrets that much sharper and clearer.
With all of that weighing down on me, I've taken careful inventory of the pantry of my life. There were a lot of dusty cans and boxes that I pushed to the back of the shelves like so much creamed corn. Some of them were labeled things like "Staying In Touch With Relatives" or "Sending Holiday Cards". I've dusted each one off and have promised myself not to let them be forgotten again.
One of the biggest, bulkiest boxes I've pulled out was "Career". This is one that that gets neglected the most often in the crush of needing to pay bills and take care of day to day duties. In the box are my dreams of being a teacher and a writer, resting next to my hard earned English Literature degree. It's this box that I have made the most demanding promise to tackle.
The one thing that is standing in the way of my dreams of teaching, is an official state issued teaching certification. While I was in college, I was all set up to earn this in conjunction with my English degree. Unfortunately, with the demands of being a single parent at that time, I just couldn't finish the educational portion of my degree. I told myself that would be fine, that I could just find a job teaching at a private high school that didn't require teaching certification.
Little did I know what a pipe dream that was. Out in the real world, even private schools want certifications, or experience equivalent to one. After an ambitious round of job applications, I put my teaching dreams in a box and shelved them. I pursued jobs in publishing, but in Maine, these are few and far between, and even with my degree and previous experience, I was denied time and again. With that, those ambitions were tossed into the same box, and shoved out of sight, out of mind, while I took the best job I could in order to pay the bills.
And here I am now, with I job that is frustrating, and out of my field. While it is rewarding, and does pay the bills, there is no future for me where I am now. It's not what I worked four long years to achieve. It's not my dream.
Now there is an opportunity staring me in the face. At a local college, they offer an intensive program for people who already have a four year degree to earn their teaching certification in just 9 months. It's a grueling dawn till dusk program, and I wouldn't be able to hold a job while I was in it. I contemplated applying last year, but chickened out and missed the deadline. I told myself that it was impossible.
But now, after staring at this box, dust covered, and brimming with faded, but powerful dreams, I tell myself it is possible. If GH can find a decent job, and I can pull off some serious student loans, it could happen. It would mean sacrifice for all of us, but in the end, it would pay off, I just know it.
The first application deadline is January 9th. There's little time to make it on that first list. I've emailed former professors who have promised me the required letters of recommendation. Today, I took the ultimate step and called to arrange to take the required Praxis exam on January 7th. It was a large chunk of money, and it's right at the deadline, so I have one shot to pass, to get it right.
So I'm doing it. No more giant dusty boxes. Life is to short to not be doing what I love, what I've always dreamed of. No more boxes, tins, or cans of regret.
With all of that weighing down on me, I've taken careful inventory of the pantry of my life. There were a lot of dusty cans and boxes that I pushed to the back of the shelves like so much creamed corn. Some of them were labeled things like "Staying In Touch With Relatives" or "Sending Holiday Cards". I've dusted each one off and have promised myself not to let them be forgotten again.
One of the biggest, bulkiest boxes I've pulled out was "Career". This is one that that gets neglected the most often in the crush of needing to pay bills and take care of day to day duties. In the box are my dreams of being a teacher and a writer, resting next to my hard earned English Literature degree. It's this box that I have made the most demanding promise to tackle.
The one thing that is standing in the way of my dreams of teaching, is an official state issued teaching certification. While I was in college, I was all set up to earn this in conjunction with my English degree. Unfortunately, with the demands of being a single parent at that time, I just couldn't finish the educational portion of my degree. I told myself that would be fine, that I could just find a job teaching at a private high school that didn't require teaching certification.
Little did I know what a pipe dream that was. Out in the real world, even private schools want certifications, or experience equivalent to one. After an ambitious round of job applications, I put my teaching dreams in a box and shelved them. I pursued jobs in publishing, but in Maine, these are few and far between, and even with my degree and previous experience, I was denied time and again. With that, those ambitions were tossed into the same box, and shoved out of sight, out of mind, while I took the best job I could in order to pay the bills.
And here I am now, with I job that is frustrating, and out of my field. While it is rewarding, and does pay the bills, there is no future for me where I am now. It's not what I worked four long years to achieve. It's not my dream.
Now there is an opportunity staring me in the face. At a local college, they offer an intensive program for people who already have a four year degree to earn their teaching certification in just 9 months. It's a grueling dawn till dusk program, and I wouldn't be able to hold a job while I was in it. I contemplated applying last year, but chickened out and missed the deadline. I told myself that it was impossible.
But now, after staring at this box, dust covered, and brimming with faded, but powerful dreams, I tell myself it is possible. If GH can find a decent job, and I can pull off some serious student loans, it could happen. It would mean sacrifice for all of us, but in the end, it would pay off, I just know it.
The first application deadline is January 9th. There's little time to make it on that first list. I've emailed former professors who have promised me the required letters of recommendation. Today, I took the ultimate step and called to arrange to take the required Praxis exam on January 7th. It was a large chunk of money, and it's right at the deadline, so I have one shot to pass, to get it right.
So I'm doing it. No more giant dusty boxes. Life is to short to not be doing what I love, what I've always dreamed of. No more boxes, tins, or cans of regret.
Monday, December 10, 2007
Back From Blogger Hiatus
Recent developments in my life caused me to M.I.A from the internet in general. I have fallen behind in reading my favorite blogs, and way behind on posting myself.
The biggest event that kept me offline was the death of my grandmother. There were a lot of family issues involved there, and it's taken a while for me to pull my head together, and to make sure my mother was on stable ground.
Now that things are settled, I have some catching up to do; blogs to read, stories to share, and holiday madness to kvetch about. Can't wait to jump back in and get caught up.
The biggest event that kept me offline was the death of my grandmother. There were a lot of family issues involved there, and it's taken a while for me to pull my head together, and to make sure my mother was on stable ground.
Now that things are settled, I have some catching up to do; blogs to read, stories to share, and holiday madness to kvetch about. Can't wait to jump back in and get caught up.
Monday, November 26, 2007
Failure
Well, in case it's not painfully obvious, I have officially failed both NaNoWriMo and NaBloPoMo. It's sad, but true. I went for far too much at at once. I was spending every moment glued to my keyboard, and stressing out as I fell further and further behind. In the end, I decided the endeavors weren't worth my sanity, especially when the only reward was my own self-satisfaction. Frankly, I think sanity is much more valuable commodity.
So, now that I've stopped having anxiety attacks every time I approach my laptop, I will try to enjoy my blogging once again. Perhaps next year I will try to commit creative suicide once again with either NaBloPoMo or NaNoWriMo.
Now, back to our regularly scheduled insanity......
So, now that I've stopped having anxiety attacks every time I approach my laptop, I will try to enjoy my blogging once again. Perhaps next year I will try to commit creative suicide once again with either NaBloPoMo or NaNoWriMo.
Now, back to our regularly scheduled insanity......
Tuesday, November 13, 2007
The Christmas Gift Dilema
All right, as I posted yesterday, I'm working on handmade gift ideas for my family and GH's family for Christmas. Here are the ideas I'm working on:
-Quilts
-Scarves
-Hand painted boxes
-Jewelry
This is where I am, and I have to start pulling things together. I'm in desperate need of some ideas to make these gift ideas cohesive, maybe make the scarves match the quilts. Or, just make one quilt per family and call it good. I just don't know.
Is it wrong that I'm already wishing Christmas was over?
-Quilts
-Scarves
-Hand painted boxes
-Jewelry
This is where I am, and I have to start pulling things together. I'm in desperate need of some ideas to make these gift ideas cohesive, maybe make the scarves match the quilts. Or, just make one quilt per family and call it good. I just don't know.
Is it wrong that I'm already wishing Christmas was over?
Monday, November 12, 2007
Homemade Christmas
Due to the financial stresses of this year's holiday season, I've taken it upon myself to make all of the adult Christmas gifts for this year. I've started knitting, painting, and cross-stitching. While I don't have a coherent theme for my homemade gifts yet, I'm praying something will emerge. I'm hoping my family and GH's will appreciate the time and effort that I put into the gifts, and look past the fact that cost little money.
The kids are helping as well, painting ornaments and bird houses as gifts and decorations. At the grocery store this weekend, there was a food drive going on, and I had K help me pick out a few cans of soup to donate. I explained that while we didn't have much right now, there were other families that were much worse off, without even enough food to eat. She was very excited about helping out other people. I'm really hoping that the financial hardship of this year's Christmas season will at least help to teach the kids about what's really important in our lives.
On the plus side, it seems that this year Christmas is going to be held at our house. Nothing is definite yet, but it seems to be on the way to full out confirmation. I'm excited, and nervous. It will be fun to be the one who gets to take over Christmas, the cooking, the traditions, being able to let the kids have Christmas at home. But at the same time it's sad- It will be the first Christmas we won't spend in my parent's home. It's a huge change, and an admittance that my parents are growing older. I'm not sure that I'm ready for that. I'm not sure that I'm ready to be the grown-up house, to do the airport picking up, coordinating the gift opening, do the cookie decorating, etc.
So it seems that this year will be a year of many changes, of shifts in attitude and tradition. I just hope I'm a grown-up enough adult to bear it with grace, and not cry a little when my sister and I can't sneak into my parents room (as we've always done, right up till last year) and beg them to let us go downstairs and open presents at 3 in the morning.
The kids are helping as well, painting ornaments and bird houses as gifts and decorations. At the grocery store this weekend, there was a food drive going on, and I had K help me pick out a few cans of soup to donate. I explained that while we didn't have much right now, there were other families that were much worse off, without even enough food to eat. She was very excited about helping out other people. I'm really hoping that the financial hardship of this year's Christmas season will at least help to teach the kids about what's really important in our lives.
On the plus side, it seems that this year Christmas is going to be held at our house. Nothing is definite yet, but it seems to be on the way to full out confirmation. I'm excited, and nervous. It will be fun to be the one who gets to take over Christmas, the cooking, the traditions, being able to let the kids have Christmas at home. But at the same time it's sad- It will be the first Christmas we won't spend in my parent's home. It's a huge change, and an admittance that my parents are growing older. I'm not sure that I'm ready for that. I'm not sure that I'm ready to be the grown-up house, to do the airport picking up, coordinating the gift opening, do the cookie decorating, etc.
So it seems that this year will be a year of many changes, of shifts in attitude and tradition. I just hope I'm a grown-up enough adult to bear it with grace, and not cry a little when my sister and I can't sneak into my parents room (as we've always done, right up till last year) and beg them to let us go downstairs and open presents at 3 in the morning.
Sunday, November 11, 2007
Shoes, shoes and some..... shoes
Thank you to Lawyer Mama for tagging me for her shoe meme. She's one of my very favorite bloggers, and I'm excited to be tagged by her :)
I've never been much of a shoe person. As a total tom-boy, and then teenage hooligan, I never developed the proper girly love for shoes. I never properly conformed my feet to the rigors of high heels. Combat boots and other boot-like shoes were pretty much my standard. Even sneakers were a rarity.
Well, after finally growing up a bit and becoming a working professional and a mom, I've tried hard to change my attitude about shoes. I was successful in learning to love them- unfortunately I've still never gotten the hang of wearing most of them
These shoes are a prime example of shoes I love, but can't wear. I bought them during one of my many promises to myself to learn to wear heels. This photo is the first time they've been on my feet since buying them in the store two years ago. I own several pairs of shoes like these. They are beautiful, delicate, with slender, arching heels. They make my feet look elegant and sexy. Then I take three steps in them, and it feels like my feet are broken. So, they all live together in my closet.
The shoes that I actually wear daily are boring and flat and go with everything:
They are black, they are cotton, and they cost $8.
The other pair of shoes are my "weekend shoes"
They are still flat, cotton, and serviceable. But, they have super cute skulls. I can go to the craft store in them in still feel care free. I can go grocery shopping and feel like a rebel.
I've never been much of a shoe person. As a total tom-boy, and then teenage hooligan, I never developed the proper girly love for shoes. I never properly conformed my feet to the rigors of high heels. Combat boots and other boot-like shoes were pretty much my standard. Even sneakers were a rarity.
Well, after finally growing up a bit and becoming a working professional and a mom, I've tried hard to change my attitude about shoes. I was successful in learning to love them- unfortunately I've still never gotten the hang of wearing most of them
These shoes are a prime example of shoes I love, but can't wear. I bought them during one of my many promises to myself to learn to wear heels. This photo is the first time they've been on my feet since buying them in the store two years ago. I own several pairs of shoes like these. They are beautiful, delicate, with slender, arching heels. They make my feet look elegant and sexy. Then I take three steps in them, and it feels like my feet are broken. So, they all live together in my closet.
The shoes that I actually wear daily are boring and flat and go with everything:
They are black, they are cotton, and they cost $8.
The other pair of shoes are my "weekend shoes"
They are still flat, cotton, and serviceable. But, they have super cute skulls. I can go to the craft store in them in still feel care free. I can go grocery shopping and feel like a rebel.
Friday, November 09, 2007
Last Minute Craft Show
Looks like I'll be selling my fabulous crafts at a craft show tomorrow. This is so last minute that I'm in a bit of panic. All right, in a LOT of a panic.
With that said, this is my post for today. I'm going to be up all night trying to create as many crafts as possible. Wish me luck!
With that said, this is my post for today. I'm going to be up all night trying to create as many crafts as possible. Wish me luck!
Thursday, November 08, 2007
The Tooth Fairy's Rebuttal
The following is the note that was found beneath G's pillow this morning along with $3
Dear G,
I am very sorry that I didn't come to get your tooth the night before. I hope you weren't too upset. You see, my Tooth Fairy magic told me you would be loosing another tooth today as well, so I decided to get them both at once instead of making two trips.
Keep up the good work in school and be sure to listen to your parents. I'll visit again the next time you loose a tooth.
Love,
The Tooth Fairy
Dear G,
I am very sorry that I didn't come to get your tooth the night before. I hope you weren't too upset. You see, my Tooth Fairy magic told me you would be loosing another tooth today as well, so I decided to get them both at once instead of making two trips.
Keep up the good work in school and be sure to listen to your parents. I'll visit again the next time you loose a tooth.
Love,
The Tooth Fairy
Wednesday, November 07, 2007
"I'm A Bad Mom" Moment
Yesterday, G lost a tooth at school. They gave him a neat little treasure chest to put it in, and he dutifully tucked it under his pillow, eager for the Tooth Fairy to visit.
Exhausted after a full day of training, I crawled into bed to rest, and promptly fell asleep. So did GH.
This morning when I went in to wake G up, he presented me with the little green plastic treasure chest, still holding his tooth. He wondered why the Tooth Fairy hadn't come. I felt so bad that tears swam in my eyes as I tried to make up plausible excuses for why the Tooth Fairy hadn't made it. Luckily G concluded that the Tooth Fairy had found the treasure chest to heavy. I vowed to myself that the Tooth Fairy would make it up to him tonight.
Today when I got home, G presented me with another tooth in another small plastic chest. Two teeth in two days. Tonight the Tooth Fairy will have to do triple duty just to make up for her utter lameness of last night.
I hate these moments, the moments of feeling like a complete failure as a mom. It's these magic moments that make childhood so special, and to fail at even one of them is crushing. And my excuse? That I fell asleep? That's the most shameful of all.
Exhausted after a full day of training, I crawled into bed to rest, and promptly fell asleep. So did GH.
This morning when I went in to wake G up, he presented me with the little green plastic treasure chest, still holding his tooth. He wondered why the Tooth Fairy hadn't come. I felt so bad that tears swam in my eyes as I tried to make up plausible excuses for why the Tooth Fairy hadn't made it. Luckily G concluded that the Tooth Fairy had found the treasure chest to heavy. I vowed to myself that the Tooth Fairy would make it up to him tonight.
Today when I got home, G presented me with another tooth in another small plastic chest. Two teeth in two days. Tonight the Tooth Fairy will have to do triple duty just to make up for her utter lameness of last night.
I hate these moments, the moments of feeling like a complete failure as a mom. It's these magic moments that make childhood so special, and to fail at even one of them is crushing. And my excuse? That I fell asleep? That's the most shameful of all.
Tuesday, November 06, 2007
Pooh-Pooh On You
While watching some mind-numbing weekend morning cartoons with the kids, I was treated to the new and improved Winnie the Pooh. Now called "My Friends Tigger and Pooh" there have been some interesting changes in the 100 Acre Wood. Gone is Christopher Robin; he's replaced with a spunky little red-head girl named Darby, complete with spunky little puppy. Also added to the cast is Lumpy, a cute little Heffalump. Remember back in the day when Heffalumps were the terrifying beasts that made everyone shake in their shoes? Yeah, not anymore.
Oh, and sometimes they solve crime. They don baseball caps, call themselves "Super Sleuths" and solve crimes. Little ones. That never turn out to be actual crimes. But that's besides the point.
Besides the general wholesomeness of the show, the best part, from a parental standpoint, is that the main characters are essentially the same. It was great for nostalgic value. It was also interesting to look at these beloved characters from an adult's more jaded and cynical view point.
While munching pancakes and sipping coffee, I realized all of the beloved characters from Winnie the Pooh could be broken down into very distinct personality stereotypes. Let me demonstrate (And remember, it was early. During coffee early):
Rabbit- Classic Type-A personality. Rabbit loves everything a certain way. Everything in his house is in neat rows, and every item has its proper place. Even gardening, usually a relaxing hobby, is a battle with bugs who threaten to ruin the perfect symmetry of Rabbit's garden.
Rabbit has a tendency to spaz out. When things don't go according to plan, or things or out of place, he totally loses his carrots. The grabbing of the ears, high pitched yells, and frantic dancing from foot to foot are clear displays of intense anxiety. Rabbit's neurotic tendencies are negated however, by his rare, but touching, displays of kindness.
Eeyore- A seriously depressed pessimist, Eeyore probably should have been given some Prozac ages ago. He chooses to let life beat him down, not bothering to look for his own lost tail, and refusing to seek shelter from the rain. He seems happiest when he has something to be miserable.
Piglet- Talk about neurosis; Piglet makes Rabbit look like a hippy having a field day. This little guy is scarred of everything. Perhaps it results from some deep childhood trauma, as he has even developed a persistent stutter. I fear Piglet may be something of Germ-a-phob and a borderline Agoraphobic as well- he is constantly cleaning and is loath to leave his house if even the slightest thing goes awry. I feel Piglet would benefit from some intensive therapy.
Gopher- A clear workaholic. Gopher is forever tunneling, often without any clear need. He is always willing to lend a hand- as long as it involves digging. He never takes time off, celebrates any major holidays, or speaks of any close family.
Owl- This is the guy you hate to run into at parties. He's the know-it-all who will talk your ear off for hours, constantly needing to demonstrate how much smarter he is than you. He will reference the most obscure tombs of literature in hopes you've never even heard of them, and then act shocked and dismayed when indeed, you've never heard of them. This behavior most likely stems from a whole host of insecurities.
Kanga- The epitome of motherhood, and, quite interestingly, the only female in all of the 100 Acre Wood. Kanga is your classic Donna Reed mom. She often wears an apron, and is almost always baking. Her voice is soft, warm and feminine, and she has never raised it to shout at the rambunctious Roo. In fact, her son is so much a part of her that only do their two names together make up one whole animal. On the other side of the coin however, is the fact that there is no Mr. Kanga. Is Kanga perhaps an early feminist? An advocate for single mothers? Hmmm....
Roo- A child, plain and simple. Mischievous, fun and innocent.
Tigger- A total extrovert who leaps before he looks- quite literally. Spontaneous, fun and fearless Tigger is willing to tackle, or at least bounce on, anything that gets in his way. He can be pushy, often shoving his friends into adventures in wish they don't wish to participate.
Pooh- And now, the star of our show. A starry eyes optimist, Pooh is always ready with a giggle and a far-fetched idea. Though he claims to be a "bear of little brains" he is actually quite clever when it comes to getting what he wants. After all, who but a clever bear could pull of dressing up like a bee, floating around on balloons, and singing to bees in order to get honey? It is possible that Pooh may be an obsessive eater however. There is little he thinks of beyond his next honey fix, and his tummy is constantly "grumbly".
So, which Pooh character personality do you relate best to? I consider myself a combination between Rabbit, and a tad bit of Kanga.
Monday, November 05, 2007
Lame Post
Yes, today I am lame. I am tired. And not very creative. But I want to keep up with NaBloPoMo. So here's my post.
There once was a woman from Maine
She wrote this post so lame.
These blog filled weeks
May make me tweak,
And drain all the thoughts from my brain.
There once was a woman from Maine
She wrote this post so lame.
These blog filled weeks
May make me tweak,
And drain all the thoughts from my brain.
Sunday, November 04, 2007
Mom Visit
My mom came up this afternoon, and will be staying with us for a week or so. I'm so relieved.
Life has been more than difficult lately. GH has been out of work for nearly two months now, and his completely lack of motivation is suffocating me. While I've tried to be supportive and patient, I've reached the end of my limits. I have been receiving no support, financially, emotionally or otherwise. While I won't go into anymore detail, because deep down I still do love the man, I'll just say, it's been incredibly hard.
With my mom being here, I'll finally have a bit of support. Someone to talk to and understand my frustration, and overwhelming stress and emotional exhaustion. The kids will have some undivided, loving adult attention, which they sorely need. While they do receive love from GH and I, we've been under incredible stress, and with my exhaustion on top of it, tempers have been short, and patience has run thin.
In short, I'm looking forward to a week of coming home to a clean house, hot dinner, happy kids, and maybe even a pie. All of the things I should have had these past two months with my "house husband". But I'm not bitter. Just crushingly depressed. And angry. Oh, and bitter.
Life has been more than difficult lately. GH has been out of work for nearly two months now, and his completely lack of motivation is suffocating me. While I've tried to be supportive and patient, I've reached the end of my limits. I have been receiving no support, financially, emotionally or otherwise. While I won't go into anymore detail, because deep down I still do love the man, I'll just say, it's been incredibly hard.
With my mom being here, I'll finally have a bit of support. Someone to talk to and understand my frustration, and overwhelming stress and emotional exhaustion. The kids will have some undivided, loving adult attention, which they sorely need. While they do receive love from GH and I, we've been under incredible stress, and with my exhaustion on top of it, tempers have been short, and patience has run thin.
In short, I'm looking forward to a week of coming home to a clean house, hot dinner, happy kids, and maybe even a pie. All of the things I should have had these past two months with my "house husband". But I'm not bitter. Just crushingly depressed. And angry. Oh, and bitter.
Saturday, November 03, 2007
NaBloPoMo
As most bloggers know, this month is NaBloPoMo. This translates into committing yourself to writing one blog post a day for the entire month of November. I'm attempting it, but already I'm feeling the burn.
Perhaps it burns even more because I'm participating in NaBloPoMo at the same time I'm participating in NaNoWriMo- National Novel Writing Month. This is where a bunch of ambitious idiots attempt to write a novel of 50,000 words in the month of November. You're supposed to write 1,660 some odd words a day. It's supposed to be a great way to write without worrying about editing, to free your mind and let creativity flow. It's also a good way to inspire suicide as you watch the word counts of others mount with incredible speed on the NaBloPoMo website, while you struggle to make the daily minimum.
I may fail at one of these. I may fail at both. By the end of the month I may have completely killed my will to ever write again. Pray for me....
Perhaps it burns even more because I'm participating in NaBloPoMo at the same time I'm participating in NaNoWriMo- National Novel Writing Month. This is where a bunch of ambitious idiots attempt to write a novel of 50,000 words in the month of November. You're supposed to write 1,660 some odd words a day. It's supposed to be a great way to write without worrying about editing, to free your mind and let creativity flow. It's also a good way to inspire suicide as you watch the word counts of others mount with incredible speed on the NaBloPoMo website, while you struggle to make the daily minimum.
I may fail at one of these. I may fail at both. By the end of the month I may have completely killed my will to ever write again. Pray for me....
Friday, November 02, 2007
Haiku Friday
Thanks to A Mommy Story and Playgroups Are No Place For Children, I decided to get all ambitious today and do two posts. Now, for Haiku brilliance...
Halloween candy
Fifteen pounds sitting at home
Chocolate calls me
A long-ass work week
A tired mom home for kids
I yearn for nap time
Kids high on candy
Wish they made sedative treats
Sugar buzz madness
Blogger posts each day
November NaBloPoMo
Wonder if I can
Halloween candy
Fifteen pounds sitting at home
Chocolate calls me
A long-ass work week
A tired mom home for kids
I yearn for nap time
Kids high on candy
Wish they made sedative treats
Sugar buzz madness
Blogger posts each day
November NaBloPoMo
Wonder if I can
Parent Teacher Conferences
Last night we had G and K's Parent Teacher Conferences. Working mother that I am, I managed to finagle an evening spot for each of them, both on the same night. Not an easy feat in the world of elementary school.
K's conference was first. We weren't surprised to hear that she's doing well, is a fast learner, and is progressing nicely on all of her skills. We spoke briefly about K's recent acting out, and Mrs. E suggested K see the school counselor again to talk over her frustrations.
After that, it was brief interlude for dinner before G's conference. Because of the time constraint, I chose to bring them to the evil empire of McDonald's. I feel guilty just writing it. But, in the name of time and convenience, it had to be done.
Unfortunately, it seemed everyone else in town had the same idea for dinner. For the first time ever, I ordered our food, and then had to stand and wait for a good 15 minutes for our food. The kids were thrilled by the extra time to cavort in the play room, but I grew steadily more anxious as G's conference time grew nearer. When the food finally arrived, I chanted for the kids to bolt down their food, another big parental no-no, I know.
With only seconds to spare, we made it to G's conference. His teacher gave us a glowing report, assuring us that G had been doing well at controlling his outbursts, and was very kind and courteous. She did note however, that more often than not, he chose to play alone, or "parallel play" with other children. He also had trouble recognizing his own spacial boundaries in regards to other children. Of course, this only goes further in reinforcing what we already knew.
Good reports well in hand, we headed home after another long evening. I can't wait until tonight, with an actual dinner at home, and maybe some real, honest-to-goodness time to relax.
K's conference was first. We weren't surprised to hear that she's doing well, is a fast learner, and is progressing nicely on all of her skills. We spoke briefly about K's recent acting out, and Mrs. E suggested K see the school counselor again to talk over her frustrations.
After that, it was brief interlude for dinner before G's conference. Because of the time constraint, I chose to bring them to the evil empire of McDonald's. I feel guilty just writing it. But, in the name of time and convenience, it had to be done.
Unfortunately, it seemed everyone else in town had the same idea for dinner. For the first time ever, I ordered our food, and then had to stand and wait for a good 15 minutes for our food. The kids were thrilled by the extra time to cavort in the play room, but I grew steadily more anxious as G's conference time grew nearer. When the food finally arrived, I chanted for the kids to bolt down their food, another big parental no-no, I know.
With only seconds to spare, we made it to G's conference. His teacher gave us a glowing report, assuring us that G had been doing well at controlling his outbursts, and was very kind and courteous. She did note however, that more often than not, he chose to play alone, or "parallel play" with other children. He also had trouble recognizing his own spacial boundaries in regards to other children. Of course, this only goes further in reinforcing what we already knew.
Good reports well in hand, we headed home after another long evening. I can't wait until tonight, with an actual dinner at home, and maybe some real, honest-to-goodness time to relax.
Thursday, November 01, 2007
Halloween Hell Walk
This Halloween, we decided to hit the neighborhood with one of our neighbor's, who's son is G's best buddy. Both K and G were ready and a rarin' to go when I arrived home from work. GH was feeding the kids when I walked through the door, and quickly hustled the kids into their costumes to make our 5:30 trick-or-treat date with our neighbor.
Don't they look great? G was a fabulous vampire, and K, well, she was a princess/witch, basically a witch minus the ugly.
We headed out, full of Halloween excitement, to tackle our neighborhood. The kids had fun visiting their friends houses and collecting a bag of candy, that grew steadily more bulky by the house.
Soon, we had finished our normal Halloween route, but Neighbor Dad insisted on pressing on, warning us that he intended to hit every house possible on every side street within walking distance. Not to be outdone, we agreed to keep going.
Soon, all of the kids were weary, complaining of heavy bags, and they all began to sit down on the lawn of as many houses as possible. when neighbor son began to lag and actually lay down on lawns, Neighbor Dad insisted he keep going. Soon, K began to stumble on almost every other lawn she crossed. All kids complained about the weight of their bags. GH and I stuffed our pockets full of as much candy as we could to alleviate the weight. Neighbor Dad had brought an extra heavy-duty canvas bag which he emptied his son's candy into. At one house, Neighbor Dad asked the kind woman handing our candy (dressed as a giant blue M&M no less) if he could have a couple of plastic bags. He gave them to GH and I, and we unloaded G and K's excessive candy into them to keep their arms from falling off.
At about 7:30, we all took a break at Dairy Queen where they were handing out free ice cream to trick-or-treaters. Ever resourceful Neighbor Dad managed to get all of adults a cone as well.
Refreshed from this brief interlude of sitting and getting hydrated, the kids were once again ready to go. I was not. After a full day of work, no dinner, and carrying a huge sack of candy for a few miles, I was wiped. GH was in the same boat.
On the other side of the neighborhood, we searched for houses that still had lights on, which were now few and far between. The houses we did manage to stop at were eager to unload their extra candy, and the kid's bags grew heavy once again.
On the last stretch, everyone was miserable, except of course for Neighbor Dad. AS we approached home and Neighbor Dad insisted on a few more houses, his son declared loudly "I think I'm gonna die!" and collapsed on a lawn. Neighbor Dad prodded him up, insisting that he buck up and think of the months worth of candy he was collecting.
We finally got home at 8:30. I have never trick-or-treated so long, or so aggressively in my life. The kids were a tired, wining wreck, and had to be quickly hosed off and sent to bed. I collapsed myself soon after.
Today, I have my first official Halloween hangover. Looking at the two bags of Halloween candy each that G and K had sitting on the counter made my feet throb. My head has been pounding all day, and I'm exhausted. I can only imagine how the kids are faring at school.
At least they'll have tons of candy for a good long time, which is of course, just what they need (note the sarcasm). Happy Halloween.....
Don't they look great? G was a fabulous vampire, and K, well, she was a princess/witch, basically a witch minus the ugly.
We headed out, full of Halloween excitement, to tackle our neighborhood. The kids had fun visiting their friends houses and collecting a bag of candy, that grew steadily more bulky by the house.
Soon, we had finished our normal Halloween route, but Neighbor Dad insisted on pressing on, warning us that he intended to hit every house possible on every side street within walking distance. Not to be outdone, we agreed to keep going.
Soon, all of the kids were weary, complaining of heavy bags, and they all began to sit down on the lawn of as many houses as possible. when neighbor son began to lag and actually lay down on lawns, Neighbor Dad insisted he keep going. Soon, K began to stumble on almost every other lawn she crossed. All kids complained about the weight of their bags. GH and I stuffed our pockets full of as much candy as we could to alleviate the weight. Neighbor Dad had brought an extra heavy-duty canvas bag which he emptied his son's candy into. At one house, Neighbor Dad asked the kind woman handing our candy (dressed as a giant blue M&M no less) if he could have a couple of plastic bags. He gave them to GH and I, and we unloaded G and K's excessive candy into them to keep their arms from falling off.
At about 7:30, we all took a break at Dairy Queen where they were handing out free ice cream to trick-or-treaters. Ever resourceful Neighbor Dad managed to get all of adults a cone as well.
Refreshed from this brief interlude of sitting and getting hydrated, the kids were once again ready to go. I was not. After a full day of work, no dinner, and carrying a huge sack of candy for a few miles, I was wiped. GH was in the same boat.
On the other side of the neighborhood, we searched for houses that still had lights on, which were now few and far between. The houses we did manage to stop at were eager to unload their extra candy, and the kid's bags grew heavy once again.
On the last stretch, everyone was miserable, except of course for Neighbor Dad. AS we approached home and Neighbor Dad insisted on a few more houses, his son declared loudly "I think I'm gonna die!" and collapsed on a lawn. Neighbor Dad prodded him up, insisting that he buck up and think of the months worth of candy he was collecting.
We finally got home at 8:30. I have never trick-or-treated so long, or so aggressively in my life. The kids were a tired, wining wreck, and had to be quickly hosed off and sent to bed. I collapsed myself soon after.
Today, I have my first official Halloween hangover. Looking at the two bags of Halloween candy each that G and K had sitting on the counter made my feet throb. My head has been pounding all day, and I'm exhausted. I can only imagine how the kids are faring at school.
At least they'll have tons of candy for a good long time, which is of course, just what they need (note the sarcasm). Happy Halloween.....
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