Wednesday, September 02, 2009

Do You Need a Nanny?

I found these questions on another website: http://www.nannydeprived.com/

Take the Nanny Deprived Quiz :

1) Have you ever eaten a random cheerio, puff, or pretzel just because you had no where else to put it? My Answer: more times than I care to admit!

2) Have you ever vowed to never again wear white due to constant grime, bodily fluids, and dirt showing minutes after you've gotten dressed? I don't think I own anything white except for one t-shirt.

3) Have you ever used your garden hose to wash down a high chair, stroller or child? Yes to these three and throw in booster and car seats, too. I have hosed them down, only later to find the dog napping in it, leaving dog hair all over it, forcing you to repeat the wash down again.

4) Have you ever walked around with a half eaten cookie in your pocket? Yes, and other little tidbits around the house. These days it ends up being a lego piece or hair clips that I find and mean to deposit in their rightful place. They end up on my dresser at the end of the night when I empty my pockets.

5) Do you look forward to going to the doctor or dentist just so you can sit in the waiting room and read a magazine by yourself? I can remember this being the highlight of my mother of preschoolers day. Looking back, that is so sad. We should be helping each other out more in this area. However, I know that when I did have a break from the kids, I had to spend it wisely - doing the errands that were insanity-inducing with them, like Costco.

6) Have you ever used a public restroom while holding a child on your lap because there was no where else to put them? No, actually, I don't think so. I think it is because I always crammed the stroller into the stall with me.

7) Have you watched Yo Gabba Gabba? I'm so sorry if you have! Yes. I think this show is just bizarre. Some of the songs are catchy, but in general I just don't get it. I would add to this, What is the most annoying chidren's show on tv? I vote Yo Gabba Gabba.

8) Have you ever found marshmallows in your slippers? No. But, I have found legos. Ouch!

9) Have you ever counted down the hours until bedtime? Yes. Who hasn't???? Now that they can manage this on their own, I enjoy those few moments of "catch-up" time we have when I tuck them in. Who hasn't looked at the clock and said, "Oh, it is time for bed!" The clock said 6:45 pm, but it didn't really matter because the kids didn't know how to read the clock, yet!

10) Have you perfected the fine art of changing pee soaked sheets while still mostly asleep? Yes.

11) Have you been forced to discuss or explain the plot of a Disney movie while trying to merge onto an interstate in rush hour traffic? Yes. The focus tends to be on Star Wars or SpongeBob as my kids are a little older. However, with the school year in full swing, we are detoxing from tv. There really isn't much time for it. Our conversations about shows is decreasing. Imagine that.

12) Have you ever had to use preschool safety scissors to cut a major package because that was all you could find? I did this today.

13) Have you ever cleaned grilled cheese off of your sunglasses? This one is a little tough. I can't say grilled cheese, but I can say that I have cleaned off unknown food gunk that attached to my glasses while they were stuffed into the bottom of my pocketbook. Does that count?

14) Have you ever answered the door wearing "princess jewelry"? Yes.

15) Have you ever run out of batteries on PURPOSE? Run out of batteries? I have just taken them out!

16) Have you named your dust buster and consider it part of your family? Fred.

17) Can you tell what time it is based on what show is on Noggin or Nick Jr? Yes. During her preschool years, I knew that when Wow Wow Wubzie ended, it was time for Lily's nap.

Gratefully, many of these are no longer applicable since my children are of school age. How many did you get? Can you add some of your own?

Tuesday, September 01, 2009

A low day in the life of mothering

Today was not a stellar day in the life of my children. Relationally, this impacts me, their mother. Oh, I am sure it will pale in comparison to what lies ahead as we enter the wildly hormonal teenage years. However, in the life of elementary students, well, this ranks pretty low on the success rung for me, the mom.

This morning, it was all Lily. Three years of preschool and only a handful of days did she ever cry at leaving me. Now, in kindergarten, she cries every morning, asking, rather begging to stay with me. One of the deciding factors to send her on to 'big school' this year was that she has always loved school and has never exhibited separation anxiety. In fact, none of my children have had any bouts of such for more than a couple of days. Not only does this delay us in getting ready in the mornings, it frustrates me because I have no real idea how to handle it. She is fine in the classroom which makes me believe this is a power thing?? See? I have no idea.

Fastforward to pick-up time at the school. My first hit was when my eyes landed on Sadie's teacher. She promptly walked towards me and as her eyes flitted everywhere but into mine, I could tell that bad news was eminent.

"Sadie, had a bad day today. She had several warnings and went on yellow. We had two specials today and both teachers mentioned Sadie's behavior, too. She had a very hard time controlling herself today. I have moved the children around and I have partnered Sadie with a very quiet girl, so we will see if that helps."

As she finished talking, another teacher brought Sadie outside. I was a bit confused, because Sadie was supposed to be in the holding area and evidently this other teacher thought she wasn't supposed to be there. This other teacher announced quite loudly, "I found Sadie hanging out in the holding room." It made for a quite a confusing and slightly embarrassing moment as all other parental eyes seemed drawn toward my direction.

As I found out, Sadie had also taken it upon herself to help another student, who had a cast on his foot, down the elevator. Elevators are not allowed to be used by students unless instructed by the teacher. Sadie had not been instructed to do so. Yay to Sadie for being helpful, right? But, I know she only did it to ride the elevator.

Then, Lily came outside only to announce to me that she had had, "a very bad day, Mommy." Sigh. I tracked down her teacher only to be told that she had some trouble listening and focusing today. She acted very tired throughout the day.

Next comes Ethan. I barely glanced at his teacher, afraid of what might come next. I did get a nugget of encouragement in that the teacher said there was a, "bit of hope." This comment comes after last week's statement from the teacher, "I could stand for Ethan to be a bit more 'present' in the classroom." I thought that was a diplomatic way to state what really translates to: he needs to get his act together. As we walk away, one of Ethan's friends comes running after him carrying something in his hand. He shouts to my always forgetful son, "Ethan, you forgot your lunchbox!"

We traipse off to the car, all pretty dejected and low. As we left school to head to Ethan's guitar lessons, I tried to be positive. "Did you all get my notes in your lunch today?" Coincidently, they all said, "(Child's Name), you are the best! I love you! Mom,". No one clearly answered me, adding to my feelings of resignation.

While continuing on to our afternoon activities, Ethan decided to change into swim gear in the car before his guitar lesson. I emphasized to him to make sure he got everything back into his swim bag. Ethan responded with, "Oh, Mah-um." He scampered out the car door. Soon after, I picked him up from guitar and deposited him and Sadie at the pool for swim team.

Imagine my shock when I arrived to pick them up from swim team, Ethan announced to me, quite audibly I might add, that I forgot to pack his swim suit and he had to swim in his exercise shorts. Apologizing, I scurried to the car, only to check the back seat and find, viola! his swim shorts.

I announced that we were meeting my own father for dinner. Sadie collapsed in a heap because there was no brush to help her pool head. Ethan started to cry, yes cry, because he did not have dry underwear to put on. The thought of going commando sent him into a tailspin. But wait...he could don his still dry swim suit. Solution! And, my step mom might have a brush. Life could move on.

During dinner, Sadie fell asleep and Lily burped twice so loudly that patrons of the restaurant turned their heads in dismay. Lily could also not sit still which meant constantly kicking her nearest neighbor, me, with her feet. Upon arriving home, the car stayed parked halfway down the driveway as we have had our driveway resurfaced. Therefore it took three, long trips from the car to carry in all that accumulated in that day alone. Lily stumbled up the driveway, wearing only one shoe, carrying the other one as dejectedly as I felt.

As I walked to the car on the last trip, I picked up Ethan's underwear and a pair of his socks that had fallen out of his bag which laid quite pathetically on the wet driveway... oblivious to him, of course. In the laundry room, while unpacking swim bags, I pulled out a t-shirt from Ethan's swim bag. I held it up and showed it to him. I already knew the answer before I asked.
"I think that is Coach Rob's t-shirt. How did that get in my bag?" Seriously, Ethan? Seriously?

Tonight, I ask myself, "Can I hold this all together for an entire school year?" I really should get paid more for this job on days like today. I think this will definitely be the year of repetition -repetition in what comes out of my mouth. "Focus, Self-control, You are OK, FOCUS!" There has to be an easier way, right?

Monday, August 31, 2009

How I See Things

I don't know how this fiasco really got going, but I think it was the suggestion of a "dear friend." You see, this friend had always wanted to try wearing false eyelashes. On a whim, I picked up a couple of pairs of lashes and appropriate adhesive and decided in conjunction with her birthday, we could give it a go. Here are the "lessons learned" from my first and last false eyelash application. I say "last" because I can only envision needing them for a "lady of the night" costume and I can't at this point in my life foresee this need.

1) It takes two people to apply eyelashes. I have no idea how anyone can attempt this frivolity by themselves and be successful. I attempted this on my own and the results were similar to a one-armed wallpaper hanger. It just didn't happen. Maybe it is achievable for the younger generation who still has 20/20 vision. But, with age comes far-sightedness for most of us, you know, the ones who really need this product, and application is impossible. Your natural eyelashes get in the way because, after all, their purpose is to protect the eye and anything coming near it. You start squinting to see your upper lid with the one eye that is left open, blurring your vision further. The lash ends up being adhered about halfway up your eyelid, creating a freakish, stunned-in-the-headlights look.


2) The adhesive glue must have been invented by a man. The suggested accompaniment to the lashes comes in a proportionately much larger tube than needed. You are supposed to apply the glue to the teeny tiny thin line that actually attaches to your lid. Again, failure is eminent if your eyesight is poor, see #1. The tip of tube of glue is very tiny, but despite all efforts of only squeezing out a little, inevitably, it comes out in globs. Our solution was to squeeze out a tiny drop on our finger and run the eyelash strip along it, but that was after 3 eyelash application attempts which created a clumpy look to the lash. See # 5.

3) Too much glue creates something that can only be described as eyelash dandruff. It would make much more sense if the glue dried clear. See #2. Rather, it dries white. After seeing numerous white specks of dried glue throughout my newly applied lashes, I realized the "attention" the dandruff might cause would not be for the long, luscious lashes I now batted. There might be some other solution, but the only one I could come up with was using the tip of my mascara to color the dried specks and flecks. I did consider a sharpie, but the toxic smell of permanent marker so near my nose might result in a "marker high." Not only would I look like a more street-worn prostitute, but I might have the added bonus of acting like I was stoned.

4) Eyelashes are not reusable, despite claims of this possibility on the packaging. It is inevitable that you will use too much glue, which then seeps into the lashes causing them to clump together. Instead of multiple, perfectly fanned out lashes, you end up with three large clumpy ones. Attempts to remove the dried adhesive is impossible. I first ran the lashes under warm water. This only accentuated the clumpy look to the lashes. Using superior brain reasoning, I took a q-tip and some fingernail polish remover which also did not work and actually may have started the disintegration of the "natural" look of the lash. With the dried glue dandruff and resulting three clumped lashes, I am not sure I wanted to use them the first time, let alone for subsequent costumes.

5) Problems will arise if you use a hair dryer at any point while applying lashes. Maybe this point is moot for most people and it might point to a deficit in my mental computing. BUT...I thought that I could dry out and attempt re-fanning the eyelash back into its original shape. Not only did this not work, but the air flowing out of the dryer hit the other lash, sending it flying away across the bathroom. Now, what does one do with ONE eyelash?

6) If you look in the mirror and you think you weird or funny, you probably do. I kept thinking that I looked like I had sucked in my cheeks and was transformed into this hoity toity upper class, much older lady of society. Not quite the runway super model that I had envisioned. It just looked ridiculous. My friend assured me that I looked good. I have begun to question my "friend's" such label in my life. Out in public, most people I encountered stared into my eyes with inquiry, pondering, "what the heck is going on there and why did she do that to herself?"

7) Sunglasses and long lashes do not work together. I didn't think about this one prior to putting on my sunglasses, but the lashes were so long that they hit the plastic every time I blinked. That was annoying, so I wore my sun glasses a little lower on the bridge of my nose. Lucky for me, my appearance of peering over the sunglasses only accentuated to the snobbish, much older lady. I guess you could trim the lashes, but I knew I could not do that naturally, so I lived with it. In the car ride to lunch, I kept looking in the mirror, trying to adjust what I had just super glued to my lid. Amazing I didn't wreck the car in my vanity.


8) There is a reason why God created short lashes. Did you know that if you look down and then look back up, while wearing long lashes, your hair will get caught in them? Ridiculous. Forget glamour. Now, you just look like Cousin It from the Adam's Family.


9) Your husband will not be complimentary. The big question was, "Who will notice?" Sometimes it was hard to tell, but I am pretty sure that most people were trying to figure out just what was going on with my eyes. Sadie was the first one to say, "What did you do to your eyes, Mom." And, Jay, after arriving home from work said, "What is up with your eyes? Did you just draw lines on your lids?" I think it is safe to assume that this was not complimentary.


10) You will forget about the lashes and instead, start thinking you have something in your eye. All it will take is one quick swoop of the hand and off comes one lash. For my friend, the most unfortunate of circumstances in the life of a lash occurred. Her lash flew off her eye, landing at the feet of her dog who was waiting for some attention. In one nanosecond that dog surveyed the little black wisp that landed at his feet and promptly ate it. Game over.


I have no doubt that "professional" application yields different results. However, I cannot justify the expense of such cosmetics. And, since my own attempts at applying and wearing the lashes were stunningly pathetic and awkward, not to mention poorly received by my family, I think I will just stick with my own. That I just how I see things.

Thursday, August 27, 2009

This morning, I was getting in the car from Target alone. So this is the reward for all those days of fit throwing and tantrums, emotions, etc. Silence. Time to myself. A moment of breathing and not calculating my next move to stave off the next fit and whine. My brain did not know what to do. My kids have all left the nest.

He Makes New Every Morning

Despite not being a morning person, I do love how every morning generally brings a new perspective, a fresh start and a reinvigorated focus. Here is where I am this morning as opposed to yesterday:


"The world is unprincipled. It's dog-eat-dog out there! The world doesn't fight fair. But we don't live or fight our battles that way—never have and never will. The tools of our trade aren't for marketing or manipulation, but they are for demolishing that entire massively corrupt culture. We use our powerful God-tools for smashing warped philosophies, tearing down barriers erected against the truth of God, fitting every loose thought and emotion and impulse into the structure of life shaped by Christ. Our tools are ready at hand for clearing the ground of every obstruction and building lives of obedience into maturity."
2 Corinthians 10:3-6 (The Message)


Of particular focus is the phrase, "smashing warped philosophies" and, "fitting every loose thought and emotional and impulse into the structure of life shaped by Christ." Generally, I don't read the Message version of the bible too often, but I really liked how this was interpreted.


My quiet time was spent reflecting on how I have not been using the "tools of my trade," otherwise know as the word of God, to smash, squash, demolish, destroy and tear down the bondage my battle with weight and ultimately my battle with control has had me in. Reading this passage also gave me a boost, strengthening my resolve that His word can kill of the world's pressures and ideals which is from a, "massively corrupt culture." Instead of constantly and consistently keeping God's purpose and image of me in the forefront, I have let the world's, "marketing or manipulation," drive me. I have not been making an a purposeful, concerted effort to stop these thoughts and habits in their tracks with the word of God. Therefore, "clearing the ground of every obstruction," between me and my Father.

My walk with this Lord has been quite immature lately. I let it just come and go like the waves on a beach. Sad that I have reached this point in my spiritual walk, I know. It is time to be habitual and purposeful again, "building a life of obedience to maturity." Always available, always faithful, His word and prayer are, "tools...ready at hand." What a perfect time to draw close to Him, this morning which He has made new for me.

Hair Where?

Yesterday, while waiting to pick up kids, my carpool mom began talking about what a delight my little Lily is. This is the first year she has had the pleasure of Lily's company in the car rides to or from school. Lily does have a certain charm about here when she so chooses to let it shine.

Then, my carpool mom began to giggle and said, "Oh, I should tell you what she said in the car ride this morning."

Immediately, my red flag flew up the pole of warning in my mind. I braced for it.

Lily said, "I have hair on my bottom."

My eyes became a little larger and I brought my hand to my forehead. "Oh, great. That is just lovely," I responded.

My carpool mom told me she asked her to repeat what she had just said to make sure that she heard correctly. Lily repeated, "I have hair on my bottom."

At this point all the other ears in the car perked up to such a statement of private matters. Not to be undone, Sadie had to contribute to the topic of body hair knowledge.

Sadie said, "Yes, but boys have a lot more hair than girls do," at which point all five children began to giggle and laugh.

My carpool mom held it together and confirmed that yes, we have little hair all over our bodies. And, Sadie, yes men often do have more hair all over their bodies than women.

Lily, feeling the need to explain her discovery finished the conversation with, "I saw the hair on my bottom when I took my bath." Delightful, Lily.

Thankfully, this all took place in the confines of the car ride to school. I just makes me wonder what she is saying at school. It is probably best I do not know.

Wednesday, August 26, 2009

The Numbers Game, part 3

The weeks that have passed since writing The Numbers Game, Part 2 have been a struggle for me. Actually, using the word "struggle" is an incredible understatement.

I was determined not to step foot on the bathroom scale since declaring I would not allow it to be a part of my daily routine any longer. However, it began weighing heavily on my mind every morning as I prepared myself for the day. The scale sat in its usual place, taunting me, calling me so desiring to wield its power over me and dictate to me if I will feel good about myself today or not. I had resisted, until a week ago.

During this hiatus from the bathroom scale, I felt as if I were growing larger by the moment. My clothes all seemed to be shrinking and every morning I found something in my closet I thought was just a tad tighter than the last time I wore it. No one mentioned to me that it looked like I had lost weight lately and this compounded my panicky feelings. My days consistently battled with low self- esteem and of measuring and comparing myself to every other woman I encountered. I apologize if that makes anyone reading this feel uncomfortable, but I am trying to bear it all today in this post.

Fast-forward to this past week. Jay had a doctor's appointment and despite working out 3 days a week, he gained enough weight for his doctor to be concerned. Yeah, ok, so some of it is muscle weight, but he and I know that most is not. Additionally, I know that I had put on some pounds since mid-May, how much, I did not know. However, since he was going to be cutting back, I figured out I would be supportive and jump on the band wagon.

I knew it wasn't going to be pretty. I have been uncomfortable in most of my clothes and my eating habits have been completely out of control. As I stepped onto the scale, I let out an audible gasp, my stomach began to knot. I have gained 12 pounds since mid-May. 12 pounds.

Do I know how petty all of this is? Yes. Is it completely out of perspective? Yes. Are there a million more things in this world that are more important? Yes. Yet, I am con summed with this.

Control. There is it, that word again. Self-control, discipline, focus, manage; whatever word you want to use, it describes what I battle in my life. My control verses God's control. For 5 years, I have controlled my weight, allowing me to better deal with all of the other uncontrollables in my life - children, husband, death, work, house, etc. Now, even that is out of my control. My inner self has completely come unglued, chaos reigning and borderline depression setting up camp.

I can remember a time when my house was my controllable area. Cleaning an exorbitant amount - wiping baseboards weekly, cleaning blinds weekly, organizing and reorganizing closets. I chose this focus because my weight was so vastly out of control, I didn't even see it as an area under my influence. As the children grew and became more destructive to the house and I began my journey to physical fitness, my focus shifted to something I could actually dictate, food consumed. Compounding that were the added burdens of cancer and death - two variables completely out of my hands.

I am very angry with myself. My anger at my weight gain is superseded by my anger at myself for wasting so much emotional energy with this topic. I am extraordinarily disappointed at how I treat others around me when I feel this inwardly chaotic. I transfer my frustrations at failing at my own ridiculous goal of perfection to my children. I was very unfair to them yesterday and I am still struggling with that reality this morning.

Now I am scrambling, lowering my caloric intake, drinking water by the jug full, all the while growing agitated and completely aggravated by my constant state of hunger and desire for chocolate. For what, I ask myself? To feel in control again. The irony of the statement does not escape me; I know nothing is truly under my control.

I have had seasons when I was at rest in my life, when I was not running that treadmill of constant work and control. Short-lived these seasons were, but I have lived them. Disappointingly, I am back in this pit of numbers, scrambling on my own, by my own strength to gain footing to climb out of it. I know failure is assured with this method, and yet, my sinful tendency is to solve it on my own, with my own control.

I know what I need to do, but will I do it? It is another season of brokenness and I pray that it will be the last one with this stronghold I will have to endure. I pray for the end to this maddening numbers game.