Well, I panicked yesterday. I thought I had exposed too much, yet again. It wasn't that I didn't want anyone to read my posts. It was that I didn't want it plastered all over facebook like I was announcing, "Look what I have done! Look what I can do! Everyone pat me on the back." For some reason this time, multiple stories I had written showed up on the news feed of my friends. Basically, it all boiled down to me messing around with technology that I really didn't understand how to use.
When I was alerted to this fact, I thought it was clogging up facebook, people's profiles, etc. I was also told that I should be concerned because it was like my personal diary and personal thoughts. I realized the person telling me this had not read my blog before because it is pretty obvious that my blog is all about the personal and private - from the triumphs to the failures and all in between. I don't really hold much back.
I link my blog to the outside world because I think others might find the subject matter relatable. If I am going through it, then someone else is, too. Sometimes I post because I need comforting or affirmation of my parenting. Writing is the cheapest form of therapy for me. Other times, my life is just so ridiculous, that I think that it needs sharing. I can laugh at it, so can others.
What came out of "my mistake" yesterday was really fantastic. I had three conversations with parents at my kids' school who had been dealing with the same issues in their house. Some had suggestions, some just provided comfort. One was considering an ENT referral, but was now thinking urological. One person provided much comfort about the tests Sadie will undergo, having been there with her daughter. And one offered to have her child, recently solved of the issue, to provide support to Sadie. I received some wonderful encouragement and enlightenment from other parents who also parent children like Sadie. Here are several comments:
"It was exactly what I needed to give me perspective for what has been going on between my daughter and me."
"Your words that Sadie often uses the word "embarrassing" hit home with me in a way that you will never know. My daughter tells me that all the time. It was a light bulb for me. Her idea that she is a tough girl makes it embarrassing that she needs me to help her. I constantly tell her that if she came on this earth knowing how to handle everything, then there would be no need for God to make parents. He would just plop us here and send us on our way."
The world is such a different place for our little girls. They are trying so hard to compete at such high levels finding their place in a world where people think of equality now, versus that of God's design. They want to be tough like boys, but don't know how to balance that with their natural feminine instincts. It can be particularly more difficult for little girls who have issues in their lives that they find embarrassing so perhaps they search for other means to prove that they are okay."
"I just thought you should know that with kids who carry things so close to their heart it can be challenging and I understand what you are feeling."
I also received much encouragement from friends to keep plugging along this mothering trail:
"Hearing your words just re-enforced what Tripp says in Shepherding a Child's Heart--it's not their behavior we focus on; it's what is going on in their hearts. We parents can help our kids experience cleansing and wholeness as they learn to delete these fears, wounds, and unrealistic expectations from their little hearts.Hopefully, you will have the joy of a mother watching her adult child who has THROWN OFF EVERY ENCUMBRANCE AND THE SINS WHICH SO EASILY BESET HER and is running her race of life!Blessings to you in your mothering."
She is one of my favorite kids....I love her spunk...she reminds me of my daughter in many ways...
"Aren't you thankful when the Holy Spirit allows us to see a little deeper and reveal a little more about one of the Lord's precious creations!"
Finally, I was overwhelmed at the response to me, as a "writer." I didn't know how many of you read this little corner of the world of mine. To clarify, I know the general numbers of who checks out my blog daily, but I do not have names. How enjoyable it was for me to hear many of you comment on facebook. Glad I can provide some free entertainment for you, although I know I am on the greater receiving end.
On a last note regarding transparency, a topic I refer to often, let me quote a comment I received on something I wrote I while ago.
"This post feels like a pep talk for anyone (such as myself) that follows Christ out on a limb and then needs to remind themselves of why they went out there. Saying something is too personal is just an excuse to remain comfortable...and I'm right there with you, sick of comfy and ready for real! Keep it up!"
Thank you for comforting me in my time of anxiety and panic. I love the dialogue and comments although I can't always respond. If the your comments and life experiences are encouraging to me, then they are to others as well. Keep them up!
For God did not destine us for wrath, but to gain salvation through our Lord Jesus Christ, who died for us, so that whether we are awake or asleep we may live together with him. Therefore, encourage one another and build one another up, as indeed you do.
Thessalonians 5:9-11
Wednesday, January 06, 2010
An Overlooked Heart
I think it is fair to say that as a general rule, anyone who has met my Sadie doesn't easily forget her. Sometimes it is positive, and sometimes it isn't. Either way, she is compelling and intriguing, I think. Smart, crazy, tough, athletic, artistic, creative, curious, motivated, impulsive. Did I say crazy? But, the one thing that often goes unnoticed is her sensitivity. Even I, as her mother, often believe she is tougher than the reality of what is churning in her little heart.
Two recent events have opened my eyes to something I often overlook in my second child.
The first happened on New Year's Eve. Actually the ball start rolling a day earlier at swim practice; the ball became a destructive force the day after. This is the time of year when her swim coach sits down with each of the kids to assess their progress and revise goals for the year. Sadie's great love is swimming. She discovered it this summer and hasn't stopped since. She begs for more and more and now practices three afternoons a week. Sadie is a good swimmer with the potential to be a great swimmer. Her coach believes that her body was made for swimming the butterfly and in time the possibilities are there. Right now, however, is another story. Is she at the top of her age division? Hardly. But, her perception is that she is a much faster swimmer than reality. Her coach, understandably, wants to start bridging the gap between what goes on at practice with what goes on at meets. He wants the kids to be more aware of their times in each event and concentrate on what their bodies are doing in the water to improve their times. Therefore, he encouraged Sadie to ask me to show her her times.
I was not receptive to this idea. She is 8. This should all be about fun, right? I tell the kids when they have dropped or gained time, but they are not given information on their standings in comparison to others or how close they are to their first standard, which is called a "B" time. I don't want them to have that pressure, yet. I never viewed it as a matter of incentive, really, and certainly never thought through her possible reaction to this full disclosure. Yet, I still questioned the coach about this, and he assured me she was ready. It would be a great motivator for Sadie, who is a very "tough kid."
Forward to New Year's Eve. Right after lunch Sadie came to me and asked me to show her her times. They are all on the computer so we sat down on the bed and I began. "Here is your time." I said. "And what is the B time?" Sadie responded. "Ummm, well, here." I said. Her eyes opened wide. "What about my other events?" I showed her each of the comparisons. Her face scrunched up, the tears welled up in her eyes and she shouted, "I am horrible at swimming. I am never going to swim again!" She flung herself on the bed. Whoa - I was not expecting this severe reaction at all. Where was my tough Sadie, the one who always let things roll off her back? I spent the next 4+ hours dealing with wailing, frustration, and as much depression as an 8 year old can muster. I was pretty ticked with her coach for pushing this issue. I used every bit of reasoning and information I had. Yet, nothing changed the utter devastation that showed on her face, mirroring what her heart was feeling.
Finally, in the car outside of the restaurant where we were to meet 20 other people for dinner, I said, "Sadie, why did you choose to swim?" Her response, "Because I love it and I love how I feel strong in the water." "Well, that hasn't changed because of your times. That is all I am going to say about it. You need to decide what you want to do and let me know." I answered. About halfway through dinner, Sadie came over to me and said, "Mom, I need to tell you something. I have decided I am still going to swim." I said, "Ok. Great." Relief.
As a side note, at the next practice, Sadie was more focused and determined. Maybe her coach knew something after all. Sorry, Coach Rob. Good thing I couldn't find your cell number on New Year's Eve.
The second incident happened yesterday. Sadie has never stayed dry at night. Ever. Every year at the pediatrician's office we ask about this. The answer is always, "We're not worried; she will grow out of it." We have always believed that her inability to stay dry is because Sadie is an incredibly deep sleeper. Sadie sleeps like the dead. You cannot wake her up. We have offered up every incentive for a dry night, including a much coveted American Girl doll. We have also doled out some verbal warnings and minor discipline. We have tried all types of devices to help her, including a special 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 buzzed. The result was that alarm went off, I walked a still sleeping Sadie to the bathroom, while she peed on the floor the entire way. She never woke up.
At her last check-up, I firmly stated that I didn't feel comfortable "waiting for her to grow out of it" anymore. At 8 years-old, she is embarrassed by this fact, going to great lengths to hide it. Sleepovers are becoming more frequent and she is terrified that someone will make fun of her. Therefore, the doctor made us an appointment with an urologist. We had this appointment yesterday.
It didn't take long for the doctor to strongly believe that Sadie has some "bladder malfunction." One reason is that even after urinating, she still had 4-5 oz of urine in her bladder. Our other answers to his questions continued to confirm that there are some physical problems, completely out of her control. In addition, the stress of not being able to control her bladder has probably created another set of problems. Our next step is a series of tests this coming Thursday. He went through some details of what this would mean to Sadie and said that it shouldn't hurt, despite his use of the word, "catheter". Sadie seemed to be taking it all in stride. In fact, she even announced that she was "happy" because she would be able to get rid of the pull-ups. We left the appointment and I dropped her off at school without another thought. What a tough girl, right?
When I arrived at school to pick up the kids, I immediately recognized that something was not right with Sadie. Anguish, fear and a bit of panic was on her face. Evidently, her mind had been fixated on these tests. Mentally, she had worked herself into a paranoid frenzy. She was starting to break down in tears so we quickly walked to the car. When we got home, she ran to my room, and began to cry. She refused to talk to me about it and after about 20 minutes fell asleep. I know that the emotional trauma of the "unknown test" had wiped her out physically. Even when she woke up, she continued to cry and refuse to talk to me about it, claiming she was too embarrassed. Her only real answer to me was that she was not going to have the tests done. With enough coaxing, a discussion of my own encounters with medical tests and then a girls' trip to Starbucks after dinner, she opened up about her fears which we addressed. She felt relief and more at peace with Thursday.
My tough Sadie, is really not that tough at all. I make that statement not using a haughty, bullying sort of tone. I make that statement with enlightenment and understanding. I have often dismissed her heart because she is so very tough physically and seemed to let the difficulties of life bounce around her exterior, not penetrating her skin. Instead, she internalizes her deepest emotions and fears, squashing them deep down to fester and worry her. When younger, Sadie could be outlandish in her communications. Always to the extreme ends of the spectrum - crazy exuberance to the most horrific tantrums and fits. In my desire to teach her moderation and appropriateness, I am sure I magnified to these innate inclinations in her.
I also learned that Sadie has a difficult time talking about matters of the heart. She often uses the word "embarrassing." It is natural to me that she should view me as the one person on this earth that she can talk to about anything without shame. Rather, it appears I might be the most difficult one. I spent a large amount of our time at Starbucks and in the car ride affirming my role as her confidant. Her response and new-found willingness melted my heart.
Although the swimming incident and this doctor visit were two very trying and emotional situations to handle, I thank God for allowing me this insight into my child. I can build the foundation for our communication now so hopefully, the teenage years will have something from which to work. I will no longer overlook her tough, yet sensitive little heart.
I love you, Sadie. With all of my heart, I love you.
Two recent events have opened my eyes to something I often overlook in my second child.
The first happened on New Year's Eve. Actually the ball start rolling a day earlier at swim practice; the ball became a destructive force the day after. This is the time of year when her swim coach sits down with each of the kids to assess their progress and revise goals for the year. Sadie's great love is swimming. She discovered it this summer and hasn't stopped since. She begs for more and more and now practices three afternoons a week. Sadie is a good swimmer with the potential to be a great swimmer. Her coach believes that her body was made for swimming the butterfly and in time the possibilities are there. Right now, however, is another story. Is she at the top of her age division? Hardly. But, her perception is that she is a much faster swimmer than reality. Her coach, understandably, wants to start bridging the gap between what goes on at practice with what goes on at meets. He wants the kids to be more aware of their times in each event and concentrate on what their bodies are doing in the water to improve their times. Therefore, he encouraged Sadie to ask me to show her her times.
I was not receptive to this idea. She is 8. This should all be about fun, right? I tell the kids when they have dropped or gained time, but they are not given information on their standings in comparison to others or how close they are to their first standard, which is called a "B" time. I don't want them to have that pressure, yet. I never viewed it as a matter of incentive, really, and certainly never thought through her possible reaction to this full disclosure. Yet, I still questioned the coach about this, and he assured me she was ready. It would be a great motivator for Sadie, who is a very "tough kid."
Forward to New Year's Eve. Right after lunch Sadie came to me and asked me to show her her times. They are all on the computer so we sat down on the bed and I began. "Here is your time." I said. "And what is the B time?" Sadie responded. "Ummm, well, here." I said. Her eyes opened wide. "What about my other events?" I showed her each of the comparisons. Her face scrunched up, the tears welled up in her eyes and she shouted, "I am horrible at swimming. I am never going to swim again!" She flung herself on the bed. Whoa - I was not expecting this severe reaction at all. Where was my tough Sadie, the one who always let things roll off her back? I spent the next 4+ hours dealing with wailing, frustration, and as much depression as an 8 year old can muster. I was pretty ticked with her coach for pushing this issue. I used every bit of reasoning and information I had. Yet, nothing changed the utter devastation that showed on her face, mirroring what her heart was feeling.
Finally, in the car outside of the restaurant where we were to meet 20 other people for dinner, I said, "Sadie, why did you choose to swim?" Her response, "Because I love it and I love how I feel strong in the water." "Well, that hasn't changed because of your times. That is all I am going to say about it. You need to decide what you want to do and let me know." I answered. About halfway through dinner, Sadie came over to me and said, "Mom, I need to tell you something. I have decided I am still going to swim." I said, "Ok. Great." Relief.
As a side note, at the next practice, Sadie was more focused and determined. Maybe her coach knew something after all. Sorry, Coach Rob. Good thing I couldn't find your cell number on New Year's Eve.
The second incident happened yesterday. Sadie has never stayed dry at night. Ever. Every year at the pediatrician's office we ask about this. The answer is always, "We're not worried; she will grow out of it." We have always believed that her inability to stay dry is because Sadie is an incredibly deep sleeper. Sadie sleeps like the dead. You cannot wake her up. We have offered up every incentive for a dry night, including a much coveted American Girl doll. We have also doled out some verbal warnings and minor discipline. We have tried all types of devices to help her, including a special 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 buzzed. The result was that alarm went off, I walked a still sleeping Sadie to the bathroom, while she peed on the floor the entire way. She never woke up.
At her last check-up, I firmly stated that I didn't feel comfortable "waiting for her to grow out of it" anymore. At 8 years-old, she is embarrassed by this fact, going to great lengths to hide it. Sleepovers are becoming more frequent and she is terrified that someone will make fun of her. Therefore, the doctor made us an appointment with an urologist. We had this appointment yesterday.
It didn't take long for the doctor to strongly believe that Sadie has some "bladder malfunction." One reason is that even after urinating, she still had 4-5 oz of urine in her bladder. Our other answers to his questions continued to confirm that there are some physical problems, completely out of her control. In addition, the stress of not being able to control her bladder has probably created another set of problems. Our next step is a series of tests this coming Thursday. He went through some details of what this would mean to Sadie and said that it shouldn't hurt, despite his use of the word, "catheter". Sadie seemed to be taking it all in stride. In fact, she even announced that she was "happy" because she would be able to get rid of the pull-ups. We left the appointment and I dropped her off at school without another thought. What a tough girl, right?
When I arrived at school to pick up the kids, I immediately recognized that something was not right with Sadie. Anguish, fear and a bit of panic was on her face. Evidently, her mind had been fixated on these tests. Mentally, she had worked herself into a paranoid frenzy. She was starting to break down in tears so we quickly walked to the car. When we got home, she ran to my room, and began to cry. She refused to talk to me about it and after about 20 minutes fell asleep. I know that the emotional trauma of the "unknown test" had wiped her out physically. Even when she woke up, she continued to cry and refuse to talk to me about it, claiming she was too embarrassed. Her only real answer to me was that she was not going to have the tests done. With enough coaxing, a discussion of my own encounters with medical tests and then a girls' trip to Starbucks after dinner, she opened up about her fears which we addressed. She felt relief and more at peace with Thursday.
My tough Sadie, is really not that tough at all. I make that statement not using a haughty, bullying sort of tone. I make that statement with enlightenment and understanding. I have often dismissed her heart because she is so very tough physically and seemed to let the difficulties of life bounce around her exterior, not penetrating her skin. Instead, she internalizes her deepest emotions and fears, squashing them deep down to fester and worry her. When younger, Sadie could be outlandish in her communications. Always to the extreme ends of the spectrum - crazy exuberance to the most horrific tantrums and fits. In my desire to teach her moderation and appropriateness, I am sure I magnified to these innate inclinations in her.
I also learned that Sadie has a difficult time talking about matters of the heart. She often uses the word "embarrassing." It is natural to me that she should view me as the one person on this earth that she can talk to about anything without shame. Rather, it appears I might be the most difficult one. I spent a large amount of our time at Starbucks and in the car ride affirming my role as her confidant. Her response and new-found willingness melted my heart.
Although the swimming incident and this doctor visit were two very trying and emotional situations to handle, I thank God for allowing me this insight into my child. I can build the foundation for our communication now so hopefully, the teenage years will have something from which to work. I will no longer overlook her tough, yet sensitive little heart.
I love you, Sadie. With all of my heart, I love you.
Tuesday, January 05, 2010
Lily's Prayer
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.
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.
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.
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