God,
You know,
Even when you don't want to eat them, you have to eat your brussel sprouts.
And, God, thank you for my tooth being lost.
And God, thank you that you can fix everything and make everything better.
Thank you for my dinner and brussel sprouts.
I love you, God.
Amen.
Tuesday, January 05, 2010
Confession time: We have two girls who still wear pull-ups at night. They are 8 and 5. To be very fair, Sadie truly cannot help that she is still wearing pull-ups. Lily, well, is still in them because Sadie is and I have been too lazy to really end this "convenience." However, she is dry about 2 times a week so I know the transition should be easy.
Sadie sleeps like the dead. You cannot wake her up. We have tried everything with her. This includes an alarm that goes off when it detects wetness. The buzz is supposed to train your brain to recognize the signal it is receiving from your body. Unfortunately, Sadie just sleeps through the alarm. We tried having her sleep in our room so that I could get to her by the time the alarm . The result was that alarm went off and I walked a still sleeping Sadie to the bathroom, all the while she was peeing the entire way. She never woke up.
Her pediatrician has been very laid back about the entire situation claiming that she would eventually grow out of it. However, as she as become more aware of her need for a "diaper" at night, her embarrassment has grown. It is beginning to impede sleep overs and I know that she really wants to stay dry, but when her eyelids close, she has no control. An appointment has been made with an urologist to hear what possible solutions exist since we have used up everything the pediatrician has suggested.
So, two nights ago, I saw that we were low on pull-ups and made the decision not to buy any more. It was time to try again. New year, new resolves, you know. Last night, we put Lily on a pallet on our floor with the alarm. For Sadie, we limited bedding, cranked up a space heater and said some prayers. We did what is always recommended, no liquids after 7 am, taking a bathroom trip around 11.
How did we do? Lily stayed dry! I didn't sleep, as I was on edge waiting for the alarm, but she woke up cork dry. Sadie...well, she stayed dry, too. She did get up in the night to use the bathroom - a major milestone. Unfortunately, she chose the carpet as her toilet. That is why we have a chargeable mini-steam cleaner ready, at all times.
I feel quite encouraged, though somewhat ashamed we did not start this journey with Lily sooner. As for Sadie, I am looking forward to hearing what the doctor might be able to do to help. Here's to dryness.
Facebook Crackbook
Question: If our world continuously provides ways of faster and more immediate means of communicating with others, then why do most of us feel very "unconnected, isolated and alone?"
I have been mulling over that which is "facebook" for a while. There are times when it seems to completely consume me (Crackbook) and then other times I don't check it for several days or a week. My interest in facebook began a year and a half ago when I was recuperating from back surgery. My long-time friend, Angela, suggested it to me as a great way to kill time. She was correct in that assessment. Later, my focus on facebook was driven by my pending high school reunion. As part of the committee, it was invaluable tool through which we found classmates and organized the reunion. That was in October. Now, I am not too sure why I am still lingering around those parts.
Most assuredly, facebook satisfies some basic surface connections, but over time it stays just there, never going deeper. You know all bits of trivial information about people, like what they cooked for dinner, how busy their weekend was and how accurate they are at weather updates (as if I can't look out the window). Yet, something is clearly missing.
Do I really need to know that much mundane, monotonous information about my friends? More poignantly, is it replacing a deeper level of connection that satisfies that longing of every soul - to feel as if he matters?
What I find happening through facebook is that you just stop talking...with your voice. You read these little bits and pieces of people's lives and think you have made a connection. You begin to believe you "know them." In reality, no meaningful, heart-filling exchange has taken place. No one knows you, who you really are and you know nothing short of how your friend's children made the honor roll. It becomes isolating and lonely. Before you know it, you begin to believe that the world is moving without you.
I am in a bit of a quandary over this one. Would deactivating my account make me "unreachable?" Hardly. I am in the phone book, I do have this blog and I do have an email account. Those that want to stay in touch will and those that don't are probably not friends I had prior to facebook. Deactivating would also mean more face time, a forced reason to call people, and more time to do just about everything during some weeks. I think it also means more time to devote to writing, something I clearly love more than facebook.
I have been mulling over that which is "facebook" for a while. There are times when it seems to completely consume me (Crackbook) and then other times I don't check it for several days or a week. My interest in facebook began a year and a half ago when I was recuperating from back surgery. My long-time friend, Angela, suggested it to me as a great way to kill time. She was correct in that assessment. Later, my focus on facebook was driven by my pending high school reunion. As part of the committee, it was invaluable tool through which we found classmates and organized the reunion. That was in October. Now, I am not too sure why I am still lingering around those parts.
Most assuredly, facebook satisfies some basic surface connections, but over time it stays just there, never going deeper. You know all bits of trivial information about people, like what they cooked for dinner, how busy their weekend was and how accurate they are at weather updates (as if I can't look out the window). Yet, something is clearly missing.
Do I really need to know that much mundane, monotonous information about my friends? More poignantly, is it replacing a deeper level of connection that satisfies that longing of every soul - to feel as if he matters?
What I find happening through facebook is that you just stop talking...with your voice. You read these little bits and pieces of people's lives and think you have made a connection. You begin to believe you "know them." In reality, no meaningful, heart-filling exchange has taken place. No one knows you, who you really are and you know nothing short of how your friend's children made the honor roll. It becomes isolating and lonely. Before you know it, you begin to believe that the world is moving without you.
I am in a bit of a quandary over this one. Would deactivating my account make me "unreachable?" Hardly. I am in the phone book, I do have this blog and I do have an email account. Those that want to stay in touch will and those that don't are probably not friends I had prior to facebook. Deactivating would also mean more face time, a forced reason to call people, and more time to do just about everything during some weeks. I think it also means more time to devote to writing, something I clearly love more than facebook.
Monday, January 04, 2010
The Saga Continues
STOP! Before reading further you must have read this entry:
My Cupholder Runneth Over as well as snippets from this entry and the very end of this one.
So, I start loading some things into the trunk of my car this morning after the kids had left for school. Just some things I needed to return to their owners. Imagine what I find! Why, lookie there, it is the kids' swim bag. The swim bag they last used 5 DAYS AGO, still sitting in the trunk of my car, filled to the brim with wet towels, suits, etc. Guess what today is? Swim practice day. Guess who doesn't have anything to wear but stinky swimsuits and nothing to dry their bodies' off with but damp moldy towels??!?! Guess who is learning a lesson... TODAY!!!
Ok, I admit it. I am not nearly as terrible as my bite. As much as I wanted to show up with nothing or the filth bag, I didn't. My reasoning was 1) we pay too much for these lessons for my kids not to swim and 2) a big swim meet is only two weeks away and my kids need all the practice they can get. I know, I am weak and my excuses are flimsy.
I had just enough time to throw the pungent contents of the bag, less the new sham-wow type swim towel, into the wash. I grabbed some extra towels upstairs and some sweats from the recently folded laundry and headed out the door with freshly smelling swim suits.
I did have one more thing up my sleeve, however. Once the kids got in the car from school, I pretended, just for a little bit that I did not take care of the bag. They thought they had nothing to wear except for nastiness. I saw shock, disbelief and this question came out of their mouths, "Mom, what are we going to do?"
My reply: Get your gear out of the car every time. Now, look in the back and get your swim bag; it has clean clothes in it.
It was nice tonight to see each child bring in their back pack, lunch box, swim bag, clothes, etc. We are making some progress.
My Cupholder Runneth Over as well as snippets from this entry and the very end of this one.
So, I start loading some things into the trunk of my car this morning after the kids had left for school. Just some things I needed to return to their owners. Imagine what I find! Why, lookie there, it is the kids' swim bag. The swim bag they last used 5 DAYS AGO, still sitting in the trunk of my car, filled to the brim with wet towels, suits, etc. Guess what today is? Swim practice day. Guess who doesn't have anything to wear but stinky swimsuits and nothing to dry their bodies' off with but damp moldy towels??!?! Guess who is learning a lesson... TODAY!!!
Ok, I admit it. I am not nearly as terrible as my bite. As much as I wanted to show up with nothing or the filth bag, I didn't. My reasoning was 1) we pay too much for these lessons for my kids not to swim and 2) a big swim meet is only two weeks away and my kids need all the practice they can get. I know, I am weak and my excuses are flimsy.
I had just enough time to throw the pungent contents of the bag, less the new sham-wow type swim towel, into the wash. I grabbed some extra towels upstairs and some sweats from the recently folded laundry and headed out the door with freshly smelling swim suits.
I did have one more thing up my sleeve, however. Once the kids got in the car from school, I pretended, just for a little bit that I did not take care of the bag. They thought they had nothing to wear except for nastiness. I saw shock, disbelief and this question came out of their mouths, "Mom, what are we going to do?"
My reply: Get your gear out of the car every time. Now, look in the back and get your swim bag; it has clean clothes in it.
It was nice tonight to see each child bring in their back pack, lunch box, swim bag, clothes, etc. We are making some progress.
Party Pooper
As if the holidays were not already crazy with to-do lists, Jay and I pack it in further with unending entertaining. We just can't get enough of our friends and family, I guess. Maybe it is the need to spread the love during this season. Perhaps we feel that entertaining is our way to give back to our friends for their gifts of love to us during the year. Since we both do not have the gifts of mercy, maybe we see this as some price for our lack of understanding or compassion throughout the year. Please forgive us, friends, now eat some cake. Or, possibly, we are just glutens for fun and frivolity. Of course, it might be the obvious. We have the best friends and family in the world and can't stand not having them with us, sometimes multiple times, through out the most wonderful time of year.
So, this evening, on January 1, after all of my immediate family has left the house, I plopped into a chair. 5 nights/days of entertaining this month and I am pooped. Time to gather up my house, put away the serving platters, pastry server, and take back the chafing dishes I borrowed from a friend.
I literally picked up our Christmas welcome mat this evening and didn't put our year-round one down. Not because visitors are no longer welcome. It is because Dixie decided to use it as her pee mat and after so many washings, it isn't coming clean.
Insanely, I am already thinking of our next "party." A family potluck soup and salad night with board games. Sounds like a perfect evening to occupy us during what is the longest cold snap our geographical location has experienced since 1977. Now ,where is my planner?
Sunday, January 03, 2010
My cupholders runneth over
I have had lots of "my-mini-van-could-be-condemned-because-of-its-filth" sagas including a mouse that lived in it for several weeks, many milk, juice, and tea spills, a multitude of bodily function explosions, filth, trash, etc. I have tried to keep the car clean, honestly. But being in constant use with three kids plus on a near daily basis, it is what it is. I remember Jay having a fit about the state of my car one day and then I took a look at his - four verses one. No contest.
Recently, however, I knew I reached a new level when my son started making apologies to his friends when they came into our car. I also knew it had reached epic proportions when another mom said that Sadie went on and on about how clean their car was when she rode in it. I think my two oldest finally understand why we want a clean car.
So, there was a stink in the car for a couple of weeks. A stinky, musty odoriferous gag-inducing ick. No child could discover the source despite repeated request by me to search every corner and crevice. Finally, after gagging one morning on the way to school, I decided to don gloves and a trash bag and investigate. Into the deep recesses of the car I traveled, to the place I lovingly refer to as "Satan's Lair."
It didn't take long, the discover of which added to my ire. A sports-type cup leaking what I could only surmise was chocolate milk, somewhat solidified, nearly a cottage cheese consistency. The cup had been shoved into the seat pocket in front of the third row of seats. As I started poking around, I noticed a couple more cups shoved the other pocket, along with various snack bags, hair bows, a crayon, several lego pieces, an overdue library book and headphones for the car audio system. Yes, all of them with at least a couple drops of the souring brown liquid. Some had complete saturation.
Upon further discovery I found in the other pocket more treasures and delights similar to above. And then...if it couldn't get any worse, I spied the cupholders. I say that plural because the Honda Odyssey has something like 26 cup holders in it - I am not lying. I happened to see two joining ones and I know I gasped out loud. A left over mushy, fermenting apple from some weeks earlier, possibly a month or so, soaking in some gooey orange syrup from a disintegrating McDonald's cup. It was trying to become one with some chintzy gold necklace and a melted tube of chapstick. I know the hair on my neck started to stand up and possibly some slivers of steam began curling out of my ears.
In my zen-like state, I created a plan and a subsequent consequence for not obeying my plan, otherwise known as "discipline." The new rule: children must consistently keep the van cleaned up. How ingenious of me, right? Everything is to be brought in from the car when we get home. I mean EVERYTHING. No clothing, backpacks, shoes or coats left behind. I know, why do I have shoes and clothing lying around our car? Because the children change into swim gear three times a week leaving school uniforms, socks, etc. strewn about. They are also to keep all trash out of the back and bring in toys/electronics, too. Nirvana, right? The punishment for not doing their job? Vacuuming the entire car and cleaning all cupholders. My cupholders will not longer runneth over!
Recently, however, I knew I reached a new level when my son started making apologies to his friends when they came into our car. I also knew it had reached epic proportions when another mom said that Sadie went on and on about how clean their car was when she rode in it. I think my two oldest finally understand why we want a clean car.
So, there was a stink in the car for a couple of weeks. A stinky, musty odoriferous gag-inducing ick. No child could discover the source despite repeated request by me to search every corner and crevice. Finally, after gagging one morning on the way to school, I decided to don gloves and a trash bag and investigate. Into the deep recesses of the car I traveled, to the place I lovingly refer to as "Satan's Lair."
It didn't take long, the discover of which added to my ire. A sports-type cup leaking what I could only surmise was chocolate milk, somewhat solidified, nearly a cottage cheese consistency. The cup had been shoved into the seat pocket in front of the third row of seats. As I started poking around, I noticed a couple more cups shoved the other pocket, along with various snack bags, hair bows, a crayon, several lego pieces, an overdue library book and headphones for the car audio system. Yes, all of them with at least a couple drops of the souring brown liquid. Some had complete saturation.
Upon further discovery I found in the other pocket more treasures and delights similar to above. And then...if it couldn't get any worse, I spied the cupholders. I say that plural because the Honda Odyssey has something like 26 cup holders in it - I am not lying. I happened to see two joining ones and I know I gasped out loud. A left over mushy, fermenting apple from some weeks earlier, possibly a month or so, soaking in some gooey orange syrup from a disintegrating McDonald's cup. It was trying to become one with some chintzy gold necklace and a melted tube of chapstick. I know the hair on my neck started to stand up and possibly some slivers of steam began curling out of my ears.
In my zen-like state, I created a plan and a subsequent consequence for not obeying my plan, otherwise known as "discipline." The new rule: children must consistently keep the van cleaned up. How ingenious of me, right? Everything is to be brought in from the car when we get home. I mean EVERYTHING. No clothing, backpacks, shoes or coats left behind. I know, why do I have shoes and clothing lying around our car? Because the children change into swim gear three times a week leaving school uniforms, socks, etc. strewn about. They are also to keep all trash out of the back and bring in toys/electronics, too. Nirvana, right? The punishment for not doing their job? Vacuuming the entire car and cleaning all cupholders. My cupholders will not longer runneth over!
Saturday, January 02, 2010
The first loss
An impromptu trip to a local furniture store took a very funny turn today.
We decided to search for a new sofa for our kitchen area. Six years of little kids spills, puppy chewing, and some unfortunate run-ins with the vacuum had made our current sofa pretty shabby. Jay suggested we go to a local, very large furniture store outlet to scope some possibilities.
We were on the second floor of the outlet center in a gigantic open room with rows and rows of all shapes and colors of upholstery. Jay and I kept moving through the rows, easily eliminating most, if not all the choices. The kids couldn't keep up with us and they stayed back in one of the first rows, messing around as kids would do if faced with hundreds of sofas.
Jay and I were halfway across the room when we heard a shout. We saw Sadie running toward us as fast as she could, her face a mix of excitement and determination. Inwardly, I panicked. All I could think was that Lily must have peed or worse on one of the sofas. The emergency exit plan was forming in my mind when Sadie arrived and said:
"Lily just lost her tooth and here it is!" With that, she thrust this little white tooth about the size of a grain of rice into my face.
I quickly looked across the room to Lily and shouted her name. Lily, still sitting on a sofa, stood up, turned to me and with fist pumping in the air, started jumping up and down. Her little ponytail was just bouncing in the air and her smile was as big as I have ever seen it, despite being one tooth less. She was thrilled.
Sadie continued the tale by stating that she had offered a piece of gum to Lily and when Lily bit into it, the tooth just came out. It was Lily's right bottom tooth.
Lily ran to me and we went to the bathroom to get some paper towels for blood, which was surprisingly little. It was clearly much looser than I had realized. From that moment on, whenever she saw anyone in the store, she announced with every ounce of pride in her, "I lost my tooth!"
My youngest and last child is losing her baby teeth. Another end of a season and the transition into a new one.
We decided to search for a new sofa for our kitchen area. Six years of little kids spills, puppy chewing, and some unfortunate run-ins with the vacuum had made our current sofa pretty shabby. Jay suggested we go to a local, very large furniture store outlet to scope some possibilities.
We were on the second floor of the outlet center in a gigantic open room with rows and rows of all shapes and colors of upholstery. Jay and I kept moving through the rows, easily eliminating most, if not all the choices. The kids couldn't keep up with us and they stayed back in one of the first rows, messing around as kids would do if faced with hundreds of sofas.
Jay and I were halfway across the room when we heard a shout. We saw Sadie running toward us as fast as she could, her face a mix of excitement and determination. Inwardly, I panicked. All I could think was that Lily must have peed or worse on one of the sofas. The emergency exit plan was forming in my mind when Sadie arrived and said:
"Lily just lost her tooth and here it is!" With that, she thrust this little white tooth about the size of a grain of rice into my face.
I quickly looked across the room to Lily and shouted her name. Lily, still sitting on a sofa, stood up, turned to me and with fist pumping in the air, started jumping up and down. Her little ponytail was just bouncing in the air and her smile was as big as I have ever seen it, despite being one tooth less. She was thrilled.
Sadie continued the tale by stating that she had offered a piece of gum to Lily and when Lily bit into it, the tooth just came out. It was Lily's right bottom tooth.
Lily ran to me and we went to the bathroom to get some paper towels for blood, which was surprisingly little. It was clearly much looser than I had realized. From that moment on, whenever she saw anyone in the store, she announced with every ounce of pride in her, "I lost my tooth!"
My youngest and last child is losing her baby teeth. Another end of a season and the transition into a new one.
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