1.) Two dry little boys this morning = no sheets to wash
2.) Sun, sun and more sun with promises of temperatures near 40 tomorrow
3.) Free museum night
4.) A perfectly ripe avocado for breakfast
Counting my blessings and praying my husband can find something positive in his day too...
Showing posts with label working it out. Show all posts
Showing posts with label working it out. Show all posts
04 February 2011
01 June 2010
17 May 2010
The Rock and The Effing Hard Ass Place
I knew the situation was bad when Daddy-O called and said, "Look, I really need for you to hold it together and not cry this time. We have to make a decision".
I've been crying non-stop for over a week now.
Screwed. That's what we are. My car had a major problem that the dealer "repaired" last September, but it broke again.
Well, thank our lucky stars the parts are covered under warranty! Yep, that's roughly $7.95 of that $1030.81 bill.
The new fix is going to cost about $4K.
We've been battling with the dealer and the manufacturer all week but they keep pointing the finger back at us.
I've been driving a rental all week while we try to sort out the options (Fix? Trade? Torch? Seriously, if I wasn't such a "good girl" we would set the damn thing on fire.)
It doesn't make sense to trade it (they wouldn't give us what we owe on it anyway) and then have a new - higher - car loan on another used car.
Looks like we'll be investing in a shiny new engine for this lovely piece of shit. (Oh yay! More credit card debt!!)
I'm usually a "count your blessings" kind of gal. This one has really worn me down. But I'm not out. Yet.
I've been crying non-stop for over a week now.
Screwed. That's what we are. My car had a major problem that the dealer "repaired" last September, but it broke again.
Well, thank our lucky stars the parts are covered under warranty! Yep, that's roughly $7.95 of that $1030.81 bill.
The new fix is going to cost about $4K.
We've been battling with the dealer and the manufacturer all week but they keep pointing the finger back at us.
I've been driving a rental all week while we try to sort out the options (Fix? Trade? Torch? Seriously, if I wasn't such a "good girl" we would set the damn thing on fire.)
It doesn't make sense to trade it (they wouldn't give us what we owe on it anyway) and then have a new - higher - car loan on another used car.
Looks like we'll be investing in a shiny new engine for this lovely piece of shit. (Oh yay! More credit card debt!!)
I'm usually a "count your blessings" kind of gal. This one has really worn me down. But I'm not out. Yet.
14 January 2010
Yeah, I'm Like That
I'm a bit of a worrier. On top of that, I'm a bit of a hypochondriac. Not a good pairing, those.
I've put off going for my annual medical exam because my cholesterol was up last time and I haven't been consistent about diet and exercise and pretty much knew my levels would still be high. (If I ignore it, it will go away right?) But recently I've been suffering some odd arm pain and thought it was time to get my act together and make an appointment.
So, in November I dragged my fanny to see my doctor. "Not sure what the arm pain is, but let's try some Advil. Your cholesterol is still high. Get back on the treadmill. Yada, yada, yada...your vitamin D is low, here's a supplement. Your liver enzymes came back elevated let's check again in a month."
WHA? Oh shit!? My liver? What does that mean? OMG, I'm dying!
I don't do well with a health scare. So I fretted, and worried and lost sleep. I changed my eating and drinking habits, fretted some more, but pretty much convinced myself I could "fix" this myself. One month later I went back for a re-check.
WTF? Still elevated?!? I need an ultrasound of my liver? What are you saying? Holy, effing shit what does this mean? OMG, I have cancer and I'm dying?!?
NO. (sorry if I got all worked up there. It's my hypochondria and I'll freak out if I want to.)
Long story short, I had the ultrasound on Monday. I had more blood tests. I called my doctor's office no less than 15 times and, low and behold, I'M FINE. I need to lose some weight (shocker) and get back on track with my exercise (tell me something I don't know) and - get this - STOP WORRYING.
I guess it's a good thing that I also bit a different bullet and finally made an appointment with a therapist.
I've put off going for my annual medical exam because my cholesterol was up last time and I haven't been consistent about diet and exercise and pretty much knew my levels would still be high. (If I ignore it, it will go away right?) But recently I've been suffering some odd arm pain and thought it was time to get my act together and make an appointment.
So, in November I dragged my fanny to see my doctor. "Not sure what the arm pain is, but let's try some Advil. Your cholesterol is still high. Get back on the treadmill. Yada, yada, yada...your vitamin D is low, here's a supplement. Your liver enzymes came back elevated let's check again in a month."
WHA? Oh shit!? My liver? What does that mean? OMG, I'm dying!
I don't do well with a health scare. So I fretted, and worried and lost sleep. I changed my eating and drinking habits, fretted some more, but pretty much convinced myself I could "fix" this myself. One month later I went back for a re-check.
WTF? Still elevated?!? I need an ultrasound of my liver? What are you saying? Holy, effing shit what does this mean? OMG, I have cancer and I'm dying?!?
NO. (sorry if I got all worked up there. It's my hypochondria and I'll freak out if I want to.)
Long story short, I had the ultrasound on Monday. I had more blood tests. I called my doctor's office no less than 15 times and, low and behold, I'M FINE. I need to lose some weight (shocker) and get back on track with my exercise (tell me something I don't know) and - get this - STOP WORRYING.
I guess it's a good thing that I also bit a different bullet and finally made an appointment with a therapist.
16 October 2009
Words of Wisdom
Finn, this morning, witnessed me struggling with something:
"Um, Mama? Sometimes you have to look deep within yourself to solve your problems. Maybe you should do that."
"Wow. How'd you get so smart?" I said stealing a huge hug from my incredibly wise 5 year old...
"SpongeBob, Mama."
Well, there you have it folks: Eternal wisdom from within a pineapple under the sea.
"Um, Mama? Sometimes you have to look deep within yourself to solve your problems. Maybe you should do that."
"Wow. How'd you get so smart?" I said stealing a huge hug from my incredibly wise 5 year old...
"SpongeBob, Mama."
Well, there you have it folks: Eternal wisdom from within a pineapple under the sea.
11 August 2009
I Can
I can’t remember the last time I had a good night’s sleep.
I’m wrestling with too much right now.
Change is in the air and I really don’t do too well with change. I’m a Virgo, so I try to have everything in its place. I need to have control, but there are just too many unknowns right now and it’s driving me c r a z y.
It started with a little snowflake and now feels like an avalanche.
A friend passed away two weeks ago. She was only 32. My heart is broken for her and her family and her 18 month old son. My heart breaks for my boys because her twin sister is was the primary caregiver at their daycare and, as we suspected, is leaving our center to take over her sister’s daycare. R is the only main reason we are still where we are… I can keep them there, BUT:
Owen is supposed to start Preschool next month.
R was going to transport him and her son to and from this two hour, two day a week, not made for working mothers’ preschool and now it looks as though this won’t happen. I don’t want to pull him out. I can’t. He needs preschool. I think it would help his speech SO much. AND he’s been SO looking forward to it.
So I looked around and found another all day preschool that actually looks better and, if I enroll him full time, would be cheaper than the other two combined. BUT, if I remove him from our current daycare, I don’t think the owner will react very well. She’s a bit of a bwitch. We’re already cutting her paycheck significantly as next month Finn is starting Kindergarten and I really don’t have an alternative to his before and after care. I work from 8 – 5 and he doesn’t get on the bus until 8:45 and school ends at 3:00. Even though the owner is hardly ever at the daycare, I’m afraid she’ll make life very difficult for Finn – or tell us she can’t take one without the other. (Yeah, she’d do that)
On top of this dilemma I worry about Finn. I’m so excited for him to start school and be exposed to new things and people, BUT:
What classroom will he be in? Will he be okay on the bus? He’s staring school in a cast. Will the other children be nice to him? Will he be too much of a goof-ball? How will we juggle everything?
By the end of the day I am exhausted. I’m scared of things I don’t have any much control over. So I fall heavily in to bed and fall soundly asleep; for about an hour. Then the tick of the clock taunts me for the rest of the dark night…
Can someone please tell my brain to shut the hell up?!?
Writing this down helps. I re-read these words and it all seems so insignificant. I know we’ll manage, but I just want to do.the.right.thing. I’m so afraid of making a bad choice and then having to dig out of the deep hole.
I remind myself of what Goethe said, “Just trust yourself, and then you will know how to live.”
I must. I will.
I can.
13 May 2009
Protocol
I need help. I’m still pretty new to this parenting thing and I’m even newer to the sport of socializing with other parents. I just don’t know how to do it.
Finn started playing T-Ball a few weeks ago. He LOVES it. He’s a natural. And he’s making all kinds of new friends. He has no fear of walking up to someone – anyone – and starting a conversation. He’s a natural at that too!
I’m sure most kids are like this when they’re young. At some point in our lives though, we become self conscious and, for a lot of people, talking to strangers and meeting new people becomes scary. OK, at least that happened to me.
I’ve come out of my shell a bit in my old age and I’m not as scared any more to strike up a conversation with someone I don’t know. Perhaps it’s that I have kids now and I feel like I have something to talk about. I’ve never been good at small talk but when there’s a common thread like my children involved, it’s a lot easier.
Now back to T-Ball. The first day was a Skills and Drills day. Basically just a chance to get together, meet the teammates and see what this thing called T-Ball was all about. All the parents were milling about and I took the opportunity to chat with a few of them. We exchanged our stories and our names and enjoyed a little barbeque with the kids after they were done with their drills. Fun!
Fast forward to the first game Two.Days.Later. I emphasize the time frame because really? I’m that forgettable? How can someone who I just had lunch with not recognize me less than 48 HOURS LATER? When I said hello to one of the mothers she barely acknowledged me. Same with another. I was so excited to meet some new people and my bubble was thoroughly burst.
So tell me: Am I naïve to think that a casual conversation and a common thread could lead to a (gasp) friendship? Do people not interact with other parents at these events? I don’t know what the proper protocol is in situations like these and I’m feeling very self conscious again…
Finn started playing T-Ball a few weeks ago. He LOVES it. He’s a natural. And he’s making all kinds of new friends. He has no fear of walking up to someone – anyone – and starting a conversation. He’s a natural at that too!
I’m sure most kids are like this when they’re young. At some point in our lives though, we become self conscious and, for a lot of people, talking to strangers and meeting new people becomes scary. OK, at least that happened to me.
I’ve come out of my shell a bit in my old age and I’m not as scared any more to strike up a conversation with someone I don’t know. Perhaps it’s that I have kids now and I feel like I have something to talk about. I’ve never been good at small talk but when there’s a common thread like my children involved, it’s a lot easier.
Now back to T-Ball. The first day was a Skills and Drills day. Basically just a chance to get together, meet the teammates and see what this thing called T-Ball was all about. All the parents were milling about and I took the opportunity to chat with a few of them. We exchanged our stories and our names and enjoyed a little barbeque with the kids after they were done with their drills. Fun!
Fast forward to the first game Two.Days.Later. I emphasize the time frame because really? I’m that forgettable? How can someone who I just had lunch with not recognize me less than 48 HOURS LATER? When I said hello to one of the mothers she barely acknowledged me. Same with another. I was so excited to meet some new people and my bubble was thoroughly burst.
So tell me: Am I naïve to think that a casual conversation and a common thread could lead to a (gasp) friendship? Do people not interact with other parents at these events? I don’t know what the proper protocol is in situations like these and I’m feeling very self conscious again…
17 February 2009
The Track
My funk is still there. No - Right here wrapped around me like an old sweater that really should have been thrown away a long time ago.
Last night my husband asked me if I was okay. He said I didn't even seem like I was here. Is it time to find someone to talk to?
Wow. How's that for a wake up call?
Here I was thinking I was the Stealth Bomber - doing a good job of hiding the fact that maybe I was dealing with a pesky little bit of depression. Guess not.
It's time.
The forced smile I put on for the sake of the boys isn't fair. To them or to me. I'm finding there are a lot of contributing factors - I'm finally beginning to name them. The stink of this funk has gotten too ripe and it's time to send it down the drain with the dirty bathwater.
The track always leads back to the same place: Despite several go 'rounds to convince myself otherwise, I dragged my ass out of bed at 5:00 this morning and got on the treadmill. Recent attempts at getting back in to a routine have been tough to keep up. (Damn Christmas cookies!)
I know I am better when I'm exercising. I know this. It really is amazing how a measly 30 minutes can clear the cobwebs and point your day in an entirely different direction.
And as far as finding someone to talk to? Well sorry, I hope you don't mind, but for now you're it.
It's time to refocus on what makes me happy and to find a way to quiet the sulking, sad, "boo-hoo for me" little girl who has forgotten how to take care of herself. Perhaps the longer days might help a bit too.
"Shit a cat's ass it's good to see the sun again." - from Judevine by David Budbill
Gotta get the glitter back. It's time.
Last night my husband asked me if I was okay. He said I didn't even seem like I was here. Is it time to find someone to talk to?
Wow. How's that for a wake up call?
Here I was thinking I was the Stealth Bomber - doing a good job of hiding the fact that maybe I was dealing with a pesky little bit of depression. Guess not.
It's time.
The forced smile I put on for the sake of the boys isn't fair. To them or to me. I'm finding there are a lot of contributing factors - I'm finally beginning to name them. The stink of this funk has gotten too ripe and it's time to send it down the drain with the dirty bathwater.
The track always leads back to the same place: Despite several go 'rounds to convince myself otherwise, I dragged my ass out of bed at 5:00 this morning and got on the treadmill. Recent attempts at getting back in to a routine have been tough to keep up. (Damn Christmas cookies!)
I know I am better when I'm exercising. I know this. It really is amazing how a measly 30 minutes can clear the cobwebs and point your day in an entirely different direction.
And as far as finding someone to talk to? Well sorry, I hope you don't mind, but for now you're it.
It's time to refocus on what makes me happy and to find a way to quiet the sulking, sad, "boo-hoo for me" little girl who has forgotten how to take care of herself. Perhaps the longer days might help a bit too.
"Shit a cat's ass it's good to see the sun again." - from Judevine by David Budbill
Gotta get the glitter back. It's time.
30 January 2009
Good News / Bad News
Good News: Owen continues to become the Master of the Potty! Yay!
Bad News: He's become enamoured with the toilet brush. I caught him dunking it in the bowl while he was peeing. My reaction startled him and as he rushed to remove it and return it to the holder, he sprayed the wall and floor making a disgusting mess.
My version of Neil's classic: A Mom Needs a Maid
23 January 2009
Corner of Funk and Somewhere
I just can’t figure myself out.
I should be the happiest person in the world. I have a wonderful, loving husband, two sweet and beautiful boys, a home we can afford, a decent job, a generous and loving extended family… So why am I feeling so down? Why is my fuse so short? Why do I raise my voice? Why do I feel so empty sometimes? There’s no explanation – or at least no rational one I can find.
I want so much to be able to define this funk but I just feel so lost right now…
Photo courtesy of Monkey River Town via Flickr
03 January 2009
Hallelujah!
I've never been so happy to see my dear Aunt Flo! Blessed be Mother Nature and the release she has brought to me today!!! My monthly "gift" arrived and I now understand what the hell has been going on inside my brain for the better part of two weeks!!
I feel like a new person and know that I'm not going completely insane.
Funny how these cycles elude you when you're not keeping track.
Hallelujah!!
I feel like a new person and know that I'm not going completely insane.
Funny how these cycles elude you when you're not keeping track.
Hallelujah!!
01 January 2009
My Smile
I've been on vacation since Christmas Eve. I was SO looking forward to just hanging out at home, maybe doing a few projects around the house, spending some quality time with my husaband and children.
I knew I'd have to log in to my work a bit each day - I am a one person IT department after all - and I was okay with that. I could take care of a few things so my desk wasn't a complete disaster when I returned. Yay for remote access!!
When I was called on Christmas morning, I was annoyed but happy that it wasn't during the ripping and tearing. It happened during a lull and I was alright with the diversion that was driving to the office to bring our servers back on line after the power outage.
When I was called on Monday morning I was a tad more annoyed but knew a lot of people were depending on me to bring the systems back up so they could get their work done.
The New Years Eve call wasn't a thrill, but I'd only had a couple of glasses of wine and the children had just gone up to bed - so at least the drive in to the office didn't compete with our celebration. I was home by 11:00 and actually stayed up to see the ball drop - a first in several years. It would have been more fun if Daddy-O was still up too...
The call this morning, though, sent me over the edge. The issues are thankfully minor and are fairly quick to take care of, but seriously. This is my VACATION. I'm so tired of this and I don't really know what to do. There isn't a simple fix. I know this is "job security" but come on. I have no doubt that I'll be called several more times over the remainder of the weekend.
The smile you saw on the picture below is gone. All the good this "vacation" has done is gone.
I'm sitting at my desk right now trying to calm myself and convince myself not to write my resignation letter and leave it on my boss's desk.
I knew I'd have to log in to my work a bit each day - I am a one person IT department after all - and I was okay with that. I could take care of a few things so my desk wasn't a complete disaster when I returned. Yay for remote access!!
When I was called on Christmas morning, I was annoyed but happy that it wasn't during the ripping and tearing. It happened during a lull and I was alright with the diversion that was driving to the office to bring our servers back on line after the power outage.
When I was called on Monday morning I was a tad more annoyed but knew a lot of people were depending on me to bring the systems back up so they could get their work done.
The New Years Eve call wasn't a thrill, but I'd only had a couple of glasses of wine and the children had just gone up to bed - so at least the drive in to the office didn't compete with our celebration. I was home by 11:00 and actually stayed up to see the ball drop - a first in several years. It would have been more fun if Daddy-O was still up too...
The call this morning, though, sent me over the edge. The issues are thankfully minor and are fairly quick to take care of, but seriously. This is my VACATION. I'm so tired of this and I don't really know what to do. There isn't a simple fix. I know this is "job security" but come on. I have no doubt that I'll be called several more times over the remainder of the weekend.
The smile you saw on the picture below is gone. All the good this "vacation" has done is gone.
I'm sitting at my desk right now trying to calm myself and convince myself not to write my resignation letter and leave it on my boss's desk.
23 December 2008
OK. I'm Over Myself
Yesterday was a tough one. I overreacted and feel like such an ass for getting so upset about something as stupid as a snow day.
'Tis the season, no?
A friend did come to my rescue for a few hours yesterday and I couldn't be more grateful. I got done what needed to be done at work and (thank God for remote access!!) didn't have to take a vacation day after all.
I have a post-it on my desk. It's been there for years now. I can't remember where it came from, but it's a simple reminder:
I am, once again, counting my blessings and trying to remember to breathe.
'Tis the season, no?
A friend did come to my rescue for a few hours yesterday and I couldn't be more grateful. I got done what needed to be done at work and (thank God for remote access!!) didn't have to take a vacation day after all.
I have a post-it on my desk. It's been there for years now. I can't remember where it came from, but it's a simple reminder:
Breathe sister, breathe. Make way for grace and forgiveness and don't forget to breathe....
I am, once again, counting my blessings and trying to remember to breathe.
22 December 2008
Bullshit
Yep. That's me. So effing bullshit I can hardly see.
We got over 20" of snow yesterday and last night. It's absolutely gorgeous outside. It's a beautiful, sunny, sparkly day and I couldn't ask for a more wonderful prelude to Christmas.
But I'm so freaking pissed right now my head may explode. (Look out!!) It stopped snowing early this morning. It's not like there's still a winter storm happening out there. It's clear, sunny and beautiful.
We woke early and shoveled. That's what you do when it snows, right? When you have obligations you adjust your schedule to make sure you get to where you need to be on time, right?
Apparently not.
We got word that our daycare would be opening late. That's acceptable. The plow guy can only be in so many places at once. There's a lot of snow out there. But when I called at 9:45 to make sure we were on schedule, we found out that no one had been there yet and it didn't look like they'd get there at all today. WTF????
SO here I am. Stuck.
I need to be at work. I have no alternative when it comes to child care. I know it was my decision to move far from my family. But it's not like they'd be able to help me out anyway. They have lives too. And I don't have the luxury of friends who can bail me out in a situation like this. And I'm pissed. I'm pissed that I have to take more vacation time from work that isn't vacation time. I'm pissed that I still have to pay my daycare provider - even though she doesn't pay her staff if they can't make it to work. I'm pissed that my mother isn't here to hold my hand and tell me how to make shit like this work. She did it. BY HERSELF. At least I have Daddy-O - who will also have to take more vacation time that isn't vacation time.
Waaah, waaah, waaaah. Poor me.
There are some things that are just not fair and I'm having a hard time working through this one.
We got over 20" of snow yesterday and last night. It's absolutely gorgeous outside. It's a beautiful, sunny, sparkly day and I couldn't ask for a more wonderful prelude to Christmas.
But I'm so freaking pissed right now my head may explode. (Look out!!) It stopped snowing early this morning. It's not like there's still a winter storm happening out there. It's clear, sunny and beautiful.
We woke early and shoveled. That's what you do when it snows, right? When you have obligations you adjust your schedule to make sure you get to where you need to be on time, right?
Apparently not.
We got word that our daycare would be opening late. That's acceptable. The plow guy can only be in so many places at once. There's a lot of snow out there. But when I called at 9:45 to make sure we were on schedule, we found out that no one had been there yet and it didn't look like they'd get there at all today. WTF????
SO here I am. Stuck.
I need to be at work. I have no alternative when it comes to child care. I know it was my decision to move far from my family. But it's not like they'd be able to help me out anyway. They have lives too. And I don't have the luxury of friends who can bail me out in a situation like this. And I'm pissed. I'm pissed that I have to take more vacation time from work that isn't vacation time. I'm pissed that I still have to pay my daycare provider - even though she doesn't pay her staff if they can't make it to work. I'm pissed that my mother isn't here to hold my hand and tell me how to make shit like this work. She did it. BY HERSELF. At least I have Daddy-O - who will also have to take more vacation time that isn't vacation time.
Waaah, waaah, waaaah. Poor me.
There are some things that are just not fair and I'm having a hard time working through this one.
08 December 2008
Gotta Change Things Up
We have to figure something out. This is getting O.L.D.
The boys look SO forward to family days (weekends). We do too. With one exception:
Bii and O wake up too bloody early.
I don't know how to adjust their internal clocks so they'll sleep later. Both of them woke before 5:30 on Saturday AND Sunday.
Then, this morning? I had to haul their lazy asses out of bed at 7:00!!!
What I would give to sleep until 7:00!!
I have tried everything I can think of: Put them to bed later. Put them to bed earlier. Teach them that they can't come out of their room before the clock says 6:XX. Turn on their music. Bribe them. If they wake up, there's no playing quietly in their room (note to self: look in to installing doors upstairs). If they're up, they're up and so is Mama or Daddy-O.
I'm tired. Anyone have any suggestions?
The boys look SO forward to family days (weekends). We do too. With one exception:
Bii and O wake up too bloody early.
I don't know how to adjust their internal clocks so they'll sleep later. Both of them woke before 5:30 on Saturday AND Sunday.
Then, this morning? I had to haul their lazy asses out of bed at 7:00!!!
What I would give to sleep until 7:00!!
I have tried everything I can think of: Put them to bed later. Put them to bed earlier. Teach them that they can't come out of their room before the clock says 6:XX. Turn on their music. Bribe them. If they wake up, there's no playing quietly in their room (note to self: look in to installing doors upstairs). If they're up, they're up and so is Mama or Daddy-O.
I'm tired. Anyone have any suggestions?
24 November 2008
Early New Year's Resolution
I had to do it now. It was too important to wait.
I've stopped yelling.
I hate myself when I yell at my kids. They're just being kids after all. It's their job to push all my buttons and drive me insane. It's their duty to try to kill us as soon as they can. If we're not around they can eat Skittles for breakfast.
Oh. Wait. That's what they had this morning. Hmmm. Whoops.
Anyway, I've found myself yelling a lot lately. I don't really know what it is. I'm just a lot less patient these days. Stress? Economics? Holidays looming just over the horizon? It's a combination of things for sure and it's ugly. It's obviously effecting me and more so the boys. Poor Bii has taken to curling up in a ball - usually crawling under the table or behind a chair when I raise my voice. O just starts crying immediately and dives in to me seaking comfort. It's not fair to them. They really are just kids being kids.
So, I have changed my evil ways and now refuse to get pissy when they don't do as I have asked. I vow to take deep breaths and count silently to 10. I will actually LOWER my voice when I want them to listen. I will practice patience and understanding. I will put myself in their little shoes and try to remember how hard it is to be small.
There is no reason to yell if they refuse to brush their teeth. If they fight over a toy, they'll learn that they have to work it out for themselves. I happen to like the way Green beans squeek in my teeth, but it doesn't me everyone else should. Pots and pans were meant to be used as drums. The news can wait. It's all gloom and doom anyway.
I've been focusing on this for the better part of a week now and I'm amazed at how much more calm I am. Getting out of the house this morning was a bit of a challenge - it always is on Mondays - but I kept calm and actually laughed at the comedy that it really was.
Thanksgiving at Grampa's could prove to be a challenge. But one I'm ready to take on.
I just hope this is a resolution that lasts.
I've stopped yelling.
I hate myself when I yell at my kids. They're just being kids after all. It's their job to push all my buttons and drive me insane. It's their duty to try to kill us as soon as they can. If we're not around they can eat Skittles for breakfast.
Oh. Wait. That's what they had this morning. Hmmm. Whoops.
Anyway, I've found myself yelling a lot lately. I don't really know what it is. I'm just a lot less patient these days. Stress? Economics? Holidays looming just over the horizon? It's a combination of things for sure and it's ugly. It's obviously effecting me and more so the boys. Poor Bii has taken to curling up in a ball - usually crawling under the table or behind a chair when I raise my voice. O just starts crying immediately and dives in to me seaking comfort. It's not fair to them. They really are just kids being kids.
So, I have changed my evil ways and now refuse to get pissy when they don't do as I have asked. I vow to take deep breaths and count silently to 10. I will actually LOWER my voice when I want them to listen. I will practice patience and understanding. I will put myself in their little shoes and try to remember how hard it is to be small.
There is no reason to yell if they refuse to brush their teeth. If they fight over a toy, they'll learn that they have to work it out for themselves. I happen to like the way Green beans squeek in my teeth, but it doesn't me everyone else should. Pots and pans were meant to be used as drums. The news can wait. It's all gloom and doom anyway.
I've been focusing on this for the better part of a week now and I'm amazed at how much more calm I am. Getting out of the house this morning was a bit of a challenge - it always is on Mondays - but I kept calm and actually laughed at the comedy that it really was.
Thanksgiving at Grampa's could prove to be a challenge. But one I'm ready to take on.
I just hope this is a resolution that lasts.
17 October 2008
Soap Opera Wisdom
Pain is like a dog.
It's got to be let out - taken for a walk.
Else, one day you come home and your couch has been eaten.
Heard on Days of Our Lives
It's got to be let out - taken for a walk.
Else, one day you come home and your couch has been eaten.
Heard on Days of Our Lives
06 October 2008
Mousetrap
The shelves in the cubby room are filled with toys, puzzles and games and lots of art supplies. When we arrive at daycare in the morning, the boys will choose something from the shelf and bring it out to the tables. They usually choose a puzzle to start and I always have lots of drawings to bring home at the end of the day.
There are a few “big” toys on the top shelf – one is called “Hullabaloo” and another is “Elefun” or something similar. These are games which require space as there are lots of pieces to spread about and butterflies that fly out of the Elephant’s snout. Thankfully there’s lots of room in the old church basement that is our daycare.
Finn and Owen wanted to play Hullabaloo this morning, but Alice the daycare owner told them it was too “involved” and “needed adult supervision” and to put it back and choose something else.
This isn’t the first time she has not let them play with something. I’ve kind of brushed it off before – painting does require some preparation and planning. I get that. But I don’t understand what is wrong with letting the kids spread out on the floor and play a game together. If you don’t want them to play with something take it off the shelf!
But I didn’t say anything. I never do. It’s easier to just redirect and find something else the boys will enjoy.
I don’t remember my drive to work this morning. I got lost in a space in my head that I hadn’t visited for a long time.
When I was nine I stopped talking. My parents had divorced more than 4 years previous, but apparently when I was nine I finally decided it was a big deal. This was my silent scream for help. The school psychologist analyzed the situation and suggested to my mother that I see a professional to help me through my issues.
The picture I have in my head of Dr. Parmet is of a stodgy old curmudgeon of a man, dressed in tweed and sporting thick dark glasses. He smelled of cigarettes and books. After our initial formal “get to know you” meeting we settled in to a small room lined with shelves full of toys and games - many of which I had never played before. He asked me what I wanted to play. I scanned the shelves and meekly said, “I don’t know”.
He suggested Gin. I don’t know if I already knew how to play or if he taught me, but for an hour every Monday we would sit in that nearly silent room and play Gin.
Weeks went by and though I got very good at Gin I secretly longed to play “Mousetrap” – a game I had never played but had seen on TV. Oh how I wanted to play it. But every time the doctor asked me what I wanted to play I’d say “I don’t care” and we’d play Gin for an hour.
Time went by and I slowly gained enough confidence to tell him I wanted a change. I remember trying to psych myself up and get ready for that day. And finally it arrived.
We went in to the game room and, as usual, sat at the little yellow table.
"How are you today?" Fine.
I don’t remember anything we ever talked about that was of any substance.
"What would you like to play today?" {pause.} {deep breath.} {throat tightening}
Mmmousetrap. I’d like to play Mousetrap today.
Without skipping a beat, the doctor replied, "No, that’s a stupid game. Let’s play Gin".
I don’t know why I didn’t scream and give him the reaction I know he was looking for. I don’t think I’ll ever understand why I didn’t stand up and push the table away like I wanted to and say But you asked me what I wanted to do and I want to play Mousetrap!
No. I quietly accepted his answer and we played Gin.
I don’t think I’ll ever forgive him for not pushing me to speak my mind. I wonder how I would have dealt with certain events in my life if I had gotten mad that day. I had a lot to say, but I was afraid. I still have a lot to say, but it’s easier not to. And really, it just doesn’t matter that much any more.
There are a few “big” toys on the top shelf – one is called “Hullabaloo” and another is “Elefun” or something similar. These are games which require space as there are lots of pieces to spread about and butterflies that fly out of the Elephant’s snout. Thankfully there’s lots of room in the old church basement that is our daycare.
Finn and Owen wanted to play Hullabaloo this morning, but Alice the daycare owner told them it was too “involved” and “needed adult supervision” and to put it back and choose something else.
This isn’t the first time she has not let them play with something. I’ve kind of brushed it off before – painting does require some preparation and planning. I get that. But I don’t understand what is wrong with letting the kids spread out on the floor and play a game together. If you don’t want them to play with something take it off the shelf!
But I didn’t say anything. I never do. It’s easier to just redirect and find something else the boys will enjoy.
I don’t remember my drive to work this morning. I got lost in a space in my head that I hadn’t visited for a long time.
When I was nine I stopped talking. My parents had divorced more than 4 years previous, but apparently when I was nine I finally decided it was a big deal. This was my silent scream for help. The school psychologist analyzed the situation and suggested to my mother that I see a professional to help me through my issues.
The picture I have in my head of Dr. Parmet is of a stodgy old curmudgeon of a man, dressed in tweed and sporting thick dark glasses. He smelled of cigarettes and books. After our initial formal “get to know you” meeting we settled in to a small room lined with shelves full of toys and games - many of which I had never played before. He asked me what I wanted to play. I scanned the shelves and meekly said, “I don’t know”.
He suggested Gin. I don’t know if I already knew how to play or if he taught me, but for an hour every Monday we would sit in that nearly silent room and play Gin.
Weeks went by and though I got very good at Gin I secretly longed to play “Mousetrap” – a game I had never played but had seen on TV. Oh how I wanted to play it. But every time the doctor asked me what I wanted to play I’d say “I don’t care” and we’d play Gin for an hour.
Time went by and I slowly gained enough confidence to tell him I wanted a change. I remember trying to psych myself up and get ready for that day. And finally it arrived.
We went in to the game room and, as usual, sat at the little yellow table.
"How are you today?" Fine.
I don’t remember anything we ever talked about that was of any substance.
"What would you like to play today?" {pause.} {deep breath.} {throat tightening}
Mmmousetrap. I’d like to play Mousetrap today.
Without skipping a beat, the doctor replied, "No, that’s a stupid game. Let’s play Gin".
I don’t know why I didn’t scream and give him the reaction I know he was looking for. I don’t think I’ll ever understand why I didn’t stand up and push the table away like I wanted to and say But you asked me what I wanted to do and I want to play Mousetrap!
No. I quietly accepted his answer and we played Gin.
I don’t think I’ll ever forgive him for not pushing me to speak my mind. I wonder how I would have dealt with certain events in my life if I had gotten mad that day. I had a lot to say, but I was afraid. I still have a lot to say, but it’s easier not to. And really, it just doesn’t matter that much any more.
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