One Thing Resolved

The wheels of justice turn slowly. I have been trying to contact the court about my speeding ticket and citation for expired tabs so I could find out what my fine is. However, each time I called, I was told that my citation was not in the computer yet because they were backlogged. Finally, today, I was able to find out.

$260.

After I picked my jaw up off the floor and my stomach off of my feet, I decided to take myself down to the other end of my building and speak to the court officer and see what that person could do. I figured at least I could explain the issue about my tabs and maybe get that taken off.

She gave me two options. I was not happy about either options. It was a tough choice.

#1: Pay $250 and make no moving violations or tab citations in 1 year and both would never show up on my record.

#2: Pay $145 for the speeding, admitting I was guilty of this misdemeanor moving violation which will go on my record for 5 years and the tab citation would be dropped.

If I had $250, I would gladly take option #1. However, I just don't have that kind of money. And I also feel like the tab citation was not entirely my fault. However, I was speeding and I was guilty of that. And I can cough up $145 but it will cost me a clean driving record.

Not an easy choice. I hate having to make decisions like this purely based on the financial aspects of it. Certainly Option #1 was the better deal if I could pull it off. But I just can't. I did however, walk away feeling significantly lighter than I did walking in. I had dealt with it. Maybe it wasn't the best choice but it was a choice and I will live with it. And the court officer gave me 30 days to pay the fine. That too made me feel better.

My legal issue is still hanging in the air. My attorney checked in with the court and found out that it has not been filed. I still fly under the assumption that No News is Good News but I also would like to get it resolved for better or worse, rather than sitting here in limbo waiting for the shoe to drop.

I pray that God would be merciful, as would my ex-fiancee' and just let the whole thing drop. If it can't be dropped, or won't be dropped, then some sort of settlement that I can handle can be arranged. However, I must continue to sit by and bide my time. I don't like waiting.

Christmas at my house

Some funny snippets from my house as we waited for Christmas to arrive:

First there was the "Argument About How Many Days Til Christmas" between Princess and Banana Boy. We have this Snowman countdown calendar and this was the first year that I did not keep track of the days and passed the privilege of flipping snowflakes over to the kids. I was actually quite relieved to pass on this little duty. Every day of the entire week before the Big Day, the snowflake would flip back and forth between two numbers because Princess was counting the day we were on plus the remaining days whereas BB was counting only the days remaining. They bickered back and forth. Each time they passed the Snowman, they would grumble and flip the number to what they felt was correct. They tried to pull me in to settle their argument but did not like my stance of "Well, you both have good points and in a way, you are both correct."

BB told me on Monday, while we were out on an errand that there were exactly 65 hours left until Christmas. I was amazed that he took the time to count and that he was correct if you counted in that we would open gifts at 10am on Christmas morning. Then he said, "I cannot possibly wait THAT long."

Then there was the sorting and rearranging of the presents which I do believe was to actually count gifts. They even determined which gift they would open first. There were daily pleas to "Please, please, Can we open Just One gift early?"

Mom had a little subterfuge herself. I bought my kids one big present. I ordered it and had it shipped to my parents house so they never even saw a box come here. That was my first trick. Then to further create more fun, I came up with the idea of a Hide-and-Seek with clues and hidden gifts. Each child got one present to open with a clue inside and then had to go find the next present and bring it to the next kid on down to Peanut who had to ask his Aunts if they had the special gift. What amused me was that BB looked kind of annoyed during the game but then once he saw the gift which was a Playstation 2 with Lego Batman. He then kind of latched on to the box and did not let it out of his sight the rest of the gift opening time. Later on he told me how much fun it was to play Hide-and-Seek.

I think I succeeded in creating a memory.

So, today, as we sit in the aftermath of Christmas with wrapping paper shrapnel and cookie crumbs, my kids are busy building new creations out of legos and then playing games on their new game system.

BB then said to me, "Do you think that for next Christmas, which is in 364 days, we could get a Wii?"

Correction: BB informed me that it is Peanut who is asking for the Wii. However, I am pretty sure he is asking for it too!

Kids are soo funny

One day, my oldest boy needed to get to choir practice at 8:30 because they had a very important concert and according to my son, "We are leaving at EXACTLY 8:30am! And if we are not there, the bus will leave without us."

However, this particular son, along with his other two brothers decided to poke along and drag their feet, so we finally got in the van at 8:28.

BB says, "Mom, I'm going to be late! Can't you just break some traffic laws or something?"

Ha, ha, ha! Very funny but no, dear boy, we can't break traffic laws.

We did discover that we live only 3 minutes away from school. He made it to school on time. He was able to go to the Very Important Concert.

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Peanut disappointed me by having "Below the Line" behavior and having to complete a "Fix It" form. He asked to go to the bathroom and instead went into the 4th grade class next door and took the window clings and hid them in his locker. It was a very sad moment for me.

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I got a call from the school nurse that started with, "Everything is fine... PH told me that his teeth were loose before..."He knocked heads with one of his buddies and knocked his wiggly tooth even looser. Pumpkin-head Pie face now officially looks like a Jack-o-lantern. I just giggle when he talks because has this funny little whistle through his new gap. He has another tooth right next door that is going to fall out any day. I told him that maybe he should have another collision with his friend and knock it right out.

He really didn't think I was that funny.

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Princess wrote out a list of all the Christmas Wishes on my kitchen white board.

Princess:
Game boy, Game boy games like Hello Kitty, Cat House, "Any other you think I would like", Bakugon little and big, camra, stuffd animals, D-rex, Wii and Wii games, Webkinz and Lil Kinz, Air Hogs and Internet

BB:
PS2 with 2 controllers, Lego Batman, Lego Starwars, Lego Indiana Jones, Mario Party 8

PH:
LEGO's, Webkinz/Lil Kinz

Peanut:
D-Rex, Spike the Dinosaur, Stuffed Animals, Webkinz/Lil Kinz

Mom:
New computer
Internet

I am sensing a theme here! Since I am BFF with Santa, I am pretty sure that my kids are going to be pretty happy on Christmas morning and while they may not get everything on their list, there are things on their lists that will be there.

What really makes me laugh is that I did not tell her anything about what I would like for Christmas. And the issue with the computer is that someone keeps picking off the keys on my laptop so there are about 10 keys missing. I have told the kids that until further notice, there will be no playing on my computer since they do not seem to know how to treat it well and no one wanted to come forward with their confession. I have my suspicions but nothing to substantiate it. And the internet is one of those things that I have told them is a luxury I have deemed a non-option at this time. I have a wireless internet card from work that is unlimited and can use my work laptop at home...there is no motivation for me to pony out more cash for internet so that they can play with their Webkinz. So, they will have to wait til they visit Grandma to care for their cyber pets.

So, what is on my list? Hmmm, I told someone that I would like hand towels because mine continue to disappear and turn up as bed linens for stuffed animals. To be debt-free would be fantastic but that is something that I am doing myself with a lot of hard work. Healthy children and a pleasant home to return to each night. Good friends, loving family. I think Santa has already visited me.

Apparently My Parental Threatening Was Effective

Daughter got up with significantly less coaxing this morning. I did do a lot of prompting last night to make sure that she turned HER alarm on because the MOM ALARM would be out of commission.

When I went downstairs to begin the morning ritual of the Making of the Lunches…And No, I did not follow through on my good intention of preparing lunch bags ahead of time because I came home from work, after a harrowing drive home in the cold and blizzard-like conditions, topped off with the evening effects of Cold Accumulation with the Sneezing, Stuffy-head, Aches and generally feeling like Crud…I was counting down the minutes, even the seconds until I could shoo the children into their beds so that I could follow and burrow into mine.

To my surprise this morning, daughter had actually made her own sandwich and was getting herself ready to go WITHOUT prompting. She really does not want Mom to follow through on the Unexcused Tardy threat and No Free Rides.

Excellent….

Too bad this is not as motivating to the boys. I just can not seem to light a fire under them. I was really doing well today too. I had everyone dressed and downstairs at 7:30 and then BB remarked, “Why do we have to leave now? It’s too early.”

Rats. Can’t fool them anymore now that they can tell time.

So, we waited through an episode of George of the Jungle. And then proceeded to repeat the usual Mad Dash and Scurry to find Hats, Coats, Mittens, Backpacks and Shoes followed by “Did you grab your lunch off the counter?”

Then to upset the balance in my life even further, my garage door opener decides that it is going to work again. I believe it is because I have contacted the maintenance guy and he is going to have a pro come out and take a look. The same thing happened with my dishwasher. My appliances only act up for me but when repair people come, they are on their best behavior, making me look like a babbling idiot.

It is so true that Life is just not Fair. One things goes right, something else must go wrong.

Lessons in Parenting

Sometimes it is so hard to balance my role as “Mom—the Do-er of All” and “Mom—Advocate for You Can Now Do This Yourself” (And You Will Whether You Like It Or Not From This Day Forward. Amen). I had a Moment today.

Dear Princess is hurling into puberty at a rate far faster than I am prepared for. I love that she still loves My Little Ponies and likes me to call her Princess and her favorite T-shirts have cats and say things like Rock Me-owt. There is still a little girl inside the body of this blooming teenager. But she has shown me the physical evidence that puberty is on our doorstep. Maybe she knows that I would not believe it if I did not see it with my own eyes. There are some things that girls can’t hide from their mothers and then there are things they can. I appreciate the fact that she wants to share the changes she is going through with me. It’s important. But it scares me and I think she is a little scared too. Aside from the physical changes, there are the emotional changes that show me she is growing up too. I have dubbed it the Moody Roller Coaster. We are strapped in and hitting the bumps, hills and valleys and WHOA…Was I like this? Yowzaa! Sorry Mom!

Anyway, she is a month from being 12 years old. She goes to Middle school. She needs to take on more responsibility for things. For example, if you are going to make a bag of microwave popcorn after school, I’m fine with that. It’s what it’s there for. But, do not just throw the empty bag behind the couch!! Seriously, I expect that (don’t confuse “Expect” with “LIKE”) from your younger hyperactive brothers who have the attention spans of fleas in a circus but you, daughter, can throw it away. And I expect you to do so. It is part of your responsibility and part of the privilege of being at home by yourself in the afternoon.

That is a side bar. The MOMENT we had was about getting up in the morning and getting ourselves ready. She and I share a room. I have determined that from 6 am until 6:45 am is “Mom time”. It’s when I take my shower, do my morning routine etc. I don’t take care of anyone but myself. After that, I focus on getting everyone else ready to go out the door. They get an hour of my morning. I get 45 minutes. I think it is more than fair. However, daughter seems to think that it is MY fault that she did not get up in time and was therefore going to miss her bus. We had a discussion about this.

OK. It was a lecture. You caught me.

I lectured her about this. She has an alarm clock. She can set it to wake herself up any time between 6 and 6:30 and have plenty of time to dress, fix her hair and eat breakfast. Instead, she lays in bed and I spend 30 minutes of my “ME TIME” trying to dry my hair and wake her up, going back and forth from the bathroom to her bed. Then she has the nerve…can you believe it…the NERVE…to be mad that she does not have enough time! And because I was not finished with drying my hair and did not have her lunch made, then she could not possibly go downstairs and start making a sandwich because she was TOO COLD and did not want to go ALONE.

Excuse me??

Things are changing for Princess. I informed her that she would get 1 free ride to school from me today. But after today, if she did not get herself up and ready to get out to the bus on time, then she would suffer the consequences. If she misses the bus, then she will miss school and it will be unexcused.

I am still thinking about that one. That was a threat from when I was growing up. It made sense for my parents to say that because their work was at the complete opposite end of the planet from my school and for them to drive me to school would mean they would be over an hour late for work. Whereas, I can drop my daughter off at school on my way to work and not be late. But I think the consequence should be that I don’t change a thing about my morning routine. I don’t rush the boys out the door to give us extra time in order to get her to school before the bell rings and if she is tardy, then she will have the consequence of being tardy and I will not go in to the office and sign her in and excuse her.

Hmmm. I like that better.

She was horrified when I told her of my new plan. So, I do think that she will shape up a little more now. And I think that I can do some things different in the evening to take some of the pressure off in the morning. I can put the lunches together in the evening so that all that needs to be done is to make sandwiches and put them in backpacks. She can make her own sandwich. And she will get herself up with her own alarm clock.

Remind me why I live in Minnesota??

It was so unbelievably cold today. I forget when I am walking in a beautiful spring breeze, with the sound of birds chirping and dragon flies making kamikaze dives at my head, while my toes dance among the grass and dandelions that sometimes, it gets this cold here. Blech.

Getting my boys ready for school today took far longer than I remember it taking before and they are older now. I would have thought it would get easier once everyone was out of diapers and had a fully developed set of fine motor skills. And yet, I find that I am still putting boots on, tightening mittens, searching for hats, zipping zippers and making sure that everyone is going to have as little exposed skin as possible.

And add to that, it's Monday. If you have read my blog with any regularity, you will recall that Mondays are Jury Duty day and it means that county employees must park in Timbuktu or today, Iceland and hike to work. And since I now have a laptop computer that I must take home every night and bring back every morning, this compounds the number of burdens I must carry. So today, I walked from Iceland to my office carrying my laptop bag, my purse, a paper bag full of cookies and a box of Kleenex (because I have caught a cold over the weekend). My shoulders are hunched over so that I can tuck my ears into the folds of my hood on my wool coat. I have two pairs of gloves on my hands. I look like a big blue Emperor penguin shuffling across the frozen tundra with my egg on my feet, trying to keep it from dropping on the ice but in this case, I am trying to reach the door before 9 am without dropping anything or slipping upon my keister in front of the construction crew (and considering how cold it is and how I am sure they could use a good laugh, I would prefer that it would not be I who provided the morning guffaw). I am supposed to be at work by 8:30 but since the boys were non-cooperative and the roads were slippery, I adjusted my goal.

Winter is the great equalizer. Only on the cover of a magazine can a woman look polished and sophisticated in her winter wear. And that is because she is not actually standing outside when it is 14 Brrrr-low with a windchill of -28 and the threat of impending frostbite on her exposed skin, particularly, it would seem, upon her cleavage. Clearly, she has never been to Minnesota or she would know that we Minnesota women do not expose our cleavage. We barely show our chins in the winter. Occasionally, you might see an eye brow peeking out from under a hat or the tip of a nose from the top of the scarf we have fashionably swaddled around our necks in a noose-like fashion.

I dare say, my winter attire nor my goal for winter attire is ever to be "cute". Warm, yes. Functional, absolutely. Matching and coordinating, well, on a good day, sure. But at my house, if you can find two mittens that fit the correct hand then God-speed and you are out the door and I really don't care if one is purple and one is green or belongs to your sister and makes you look like a girl, you will be warm and you will live to see the frozen sun rise in the morning, so quit complaining while I tie this noose...errrr...scarf around your neck and kiss the tip of your nose before you go to school!

As I shiver away, and chip off the icicles that have formed beneath my nose, I remind myself that Minnesota has many wonderful qualities. Winter is just not one of our best. And yet, for some reason, I am willing to forgive the state every year and I stay. Maybe that is why God gave us the brains enough to invent hot cocoa and marshmallows. And don't forget the warm socks. I also really, really like my fireplace. Yup. Maybe that is why I like Minnesota. It's all the excuses I get for bundling up, staying inside, hanging out by the fire with a warm kid on my lap and watching movies in semi hibernation until the spring thaw.

Who's Idea Was This Anyway?

This weekend I hosted my second annual Cookie Craziness...err...Exchange Party. I decided to try a new cookie. That was a big mistake. It looked real cute in the "Santa's Favorite Cookies" cookbook. Cookie candy canes. Simple ingredients. Simple directions. Or so I thought. Except that when I started to roll out the red and white ropes to twist together, I realized that the dough has to be cold or else the cookies get all gooey and lose their shape, becoming sloppy messes. And while I tripled the recipe, I still did not have enough cookies for everyone in the exchange.

So, I made another batch and put it in the fridge. But the longer the process took, the shorter my patience got. I tried to make a couple of cookie sheets with each kid but the process seemed to take more effort and my frustration level was escalating as the cookies turned to goo. I have come to realize that I am not going to be the cookie baking kind of Mom. I have already realized that while I am learning to enjoy cooking and baking, I much prefer them as solo activities.

I think some people have natural abilities with cooking and baking, to where it is almost second nature, so teaching and working with their children is fun and enjoyable. However, for me, it takes a great deal of concentration and sustained effort to cook. It's not that easy or natural for me, so my frustration level increases. I should accept that about myself. I have other gifts and abilities. There are other things that I can teach with far more patience and ease.

It does not mean I am a bad mother if I don't like to cook with my children. I will teach my children how to cook but individually and maybe small things. And I will choose cookies that are not as complicated. I seem to do this to myself in other things...I choose the hard patterns to cross-stitch...the hard quilt patterns...complicated scrapbook pages with fussy details. But I think with cookies...I should stick to the basics!

Peanut is 6!!!

Peanut meets his new friend. A gift from his Aunt. It now has a place of honor on his bed, next to his pillow. Looks like love at first sight to me!!

I love the expression on his face! He was so cute trying to blow out his candles with the help of his new stuffed friend the Zebra...currently named Marty.

Peanut has been SO. EXCITED!! about his birthday! He went to bed the night before and I told him that when he wakes up, he will be 6. In the morning, I was in the bathroom and he knocked softly on the door and I asked him what he needed.

"I need a hug because I am 6 now!"

He measured himself in the van, to see if he grew any inches over night. I will admit that I am using his excitement to my advantage by telling him that now that he is so much older, it means that he can dress himself and should not need my help getting his boots off. He is perfectly capable, he just dawdles until we run out of town and I have to get us out the door.

Operation Eyebrow

For some reason this week, I have been thinking a lot about my own aging process. It's natural. I'm not upset about it, just observing what is happening more than anything. I have a friend at work who is just a few years older than me and we have talked a lot about this subject because we are facing some of the same changes. We have also both realized that we are "Middle Aged".

When I used to think of Middle Age, I always thought of my parents. It has been startling for me to realize that I am now the age my parents were when I was growing up. At work, I am in the middle. Although I am a recent graduate, I am still in the mid point of my career vs my co-workers who are at the very beginning of theirs or other co-workers in the office who are approaching retirement. Even without that realization, I only have to look in the mirror to see the changes of time upon my face; the wrinkles around my eyes, the tendency of my eyes to look dark when I don't get enough sleep and "parenthesis" around my mouth.

For the most part, I am ok with it. I figure that this is part of life. The lines on my face, the stretch marks on my tummy, are reminders of the life I have lived, the things I have done, the things that have made me smile, laugh or cry. I have earned every crease. My friend from my office and I have discussed what things we should and should not do to fight the ravages of time. We have ruled out Botox, liposuction, microderm abrasion and chemical peels. We share interesting things we read about beauty and discuss the ridiculous things we women think we have to do to be beautiful. We have discussed a lot about how true beauty is not our outward appearance but the character and the beauty inside us.

So, is it wrong to put forth a little effort into our appearance? I don't think so. I am by no means a high maintenance gal. My goal is 30 minutes from shower to ready to go which includes 10 minutes to shower, 15 minutes to dry and curl my hair and 5 minutes to apply a little makeup.

Lately, Kris and I have been lamenting a little bit because we both have a similar problem. Our Scandinavian heritage, while it gave us our pretty blue eyes and creamy white skin...it neglected to give us any color in our eyebrows and eyelashes. The bare minimum I would ever do on a given day is to wash my face, brush my teeth, flip my hair up in a clip and put mascara on.

Kris and I have a new mission however. I call it Operation Eyebrow. We are learning that darkening eyebrows is very tricky. Do it wrong and you end up looking like you are going to be a circus clown or a mime on a Paris street. I don't know if it was a good thing or not when another coworker asked me if I had done something to my eyebrows. I told her I had used a pencil to darken them and she told me that they looked great. But I still felt like maybe I had gone a bit too dark. Kris's 16 year old daughter told her one day that she still needs more practice.

My eyebrows are taking more time than my allotted 5 minute cosmetic slot. I hope that as I get better at it, it will take less time because I absolutely draw the line at getting my eyebrows tatooed on.

Grown-ups like toys too

Oh boy oh boy oh boy!! It's like Christmas and my birthday all rolled into one! I got my new computer at work today and it is a tablet with a wireless card! I was so surprised and then so excited I was jumping out of my skin!!! I know it isn't nice but I did find it very funny that I have been very quiet about this and while I am not the first to get one, I am one of the first in the second batch of us to get them. The intake mental health team have had their tablets for almost a year except for one guy on the team who does not like to switch over to new technology(he still dictates most of his notes and has them transcribed because he does not like to type any more than he has to and when you are 61 years old and know retirement is around the corner, I can see his point). Those of us that have had to wait for our tablets have been patient but not always quiet. I have kept my excitement inside.

The IT guy came to my cube this morning and did some IT stuff to my old computer and then said that he could get my tablet set up pretty quickly. I figured that meant a week.

He came back with it in it's shoulder bag right before lunch. One of my co-workers jokingly started to whine about it and he looked at her and said, "Didn't you know that I choose who gets the next one based on who has not been whining in my ear about it?"

It's not nice but I chuckled. And I chuckled out loud in front of other people. To my credit, I covered my mouth so as not to sound horribly loud and bemused. In actuality, the tablets are replacing computers in order of age...newest to oldest because the newest towers are going to office based staff who don't need to be mobile, so it is completely random as to who gets it.

I'm excited that I can take my tablet with me to appointments. I did so this afternoon and it is nice to have put things into my computer and when I don't have to worry about losing my scraps of paper. I can also work in my car or in restaurant in between appointments if I don't have time to go back to the office. This happens often, no matter how well I try to plan my day, I find some appointments just go quickly but there is no point driving 20 minutes to the office only to have to turn right around and go back out again.

OK, I will confess that I do feel just a little bit cooler. I also find it ironic that I, the once upon a time Techno-phobe, is now fully embracing technology. I have my mobile computer, my mobile phone. I text message, I email, I blog and facebook. Next up, GPS.

Back by Popular Demand

Actually, I don't know if it was "Popular"or if it was even "in Demand" but it was fun last year (and I got some good responses from reliable sources that it was well received) so I decided to do it again this year...My Top 10 Things We Learned in 2008 List. If you are on my Christmas Card list, you will be getting a hard copy of this so...you have fair warning.

The Top 10 Things Tulip's Family Learned in 2008

1. Peanut learned a lot of new things this year: how to ride a two-wheeler, how to jump in the pool and swim “like a squid”, write his letters and count to 15. His brothers also taught him some interesting words they learned on the playground which he then shared with a little girl…in front of her mom…who is my friend…from church. (This brought up many discussions about "honey words" vs. "vinegar words" and how our words should be like honey, sweet to the tongue and the ear and the Vinegar words did decrease substantially!)

2. All the children learned through careful research and experimentation that while it is possible to fry an egg on the sidewalk in July, Mom is not too happy to have ALL of the eggs she planned on using for a meal used for the experiment without her knowledge or permission.

3. The boys learned that Grandpa does not always appreciate their “creative enthusiasm” and mechanical skills when they attempted to build a tree house on a dead tree in the yard because they used his good tools and left them out in the rain. The women in the family thought it was really cute!(My sister says she still gets a good chuckle out of the plank screwed into the dead tree in the yard and I have a vivid memory of BB standing on that tree with the drill in his hands, his feet spread apart and trying to put in a screw between his feet like he has seen done on some of the DIY shows I like to watch!)

4. Mom learned that when your car makes funny noises, emits a sickly, sweet smell and keeps stalling…there is something seriously wrong and sometimes all the prayers of “please, just make it to payday” don’t work and she still wound up stranded on the side of the road with steam pouring out of the hood. Thankfully, a stranger reassured her that the van was not going to explode. Friends picked her up and loaned her a car for a few days and then she and BB found a new van a couple days later. However, Mom would have liked BB to keep the sticker price and her monthly payments to himself.(I have truly awesome friends! You know who you are and I can't thank you enough!!)

5. Mom and Princess learned that you should not drive over plastic garbage bags on the freeway. While they may look innocent and harmless, they could contain deadly plastic stepstools that wrap around your wheel, forcing you to pull over, try to figure out the car jack and wind up calling a friend. Thankfully, that friend jacked up the car, removed the tire and the nasty stool and did not make fun of Mom for being “such a girl.” (Maybe I should mention that I was also dressed in a skirt and white shirt, on my way to my sister's Bridal shower when this happened...so I really was not too keen on getting dirty this day...another day, I would have been alright with getting down in the dirt and taking off the tire, if I could have figured out how that silly jack worked!)

6. The boys learned that they should not go out onto the garage roof even if one brother threw their “most favorite” webkin up there and even sliced the screen open for them. When Mom finds out, because the police knocked at the door, they get grounded from “all things fun”; have to pay for the screen, fix it and then it gets written up in the local paper. Mom had to clip it out and put it in a scrapbook. It will be used to embarrass them at a later time.

7. Mom learned that it is better to break off an engagement than to marry the wrong person.

8. Tiger taught us that it is possible to get pregnant after one date with a handsome, suave Tomcat and the kids learned why Mom kept saying, “Don’t let the cat out!” when she went into heat for the first time. She gave birth to 5 healthy kittens in May. We had a great time watching them grow up and it was hard to see them go. One girl became our second pet. Her name is Shadow.

9. Mom learned there is nothing good after the question, “Do you want to know what your boys are doing outside?” To which she replied, “Not really.” While at the vet with a very upset kitty who had clawed Princess to shreds, she quickly wrote out the check and dashed outside to find 3 boys standing in their socks. Two were holding their shoes and one had only a single shoe. Apparently, they had been having a shoe kicking contest and one shoe landed on the SUV that was pulling out of the lot. Mom did not find it funny when someone said, “I think I see the shoe…But…you just drove over it.”

10. Mom learned that she is no longer “Mommy” but Mom. Could it have anything to do with having all 4 kids in school? She thought it would be more upsetting to have Jonah go to Kindergarten but truth be told, it was harder sending Princess to Middle school. While she did not run after the bus screaming, “Bring back my baby!” she did have to take a few moments to regroup and choke back some tears.

Grouchy Momma Alert

I am on a rampage this week. I apologize in advance if you cross my path. It’s going to be a very CRAZY week. Mondays are absolutely Nuts-o.

I start my day at O-way to early in the morning (OK, 6am) and I shower, get myself ready and then proceed to wake dear daughter up from her coma. While she gradually awakens, I am busy making 4 lunches and locating matching socks by searching through baskets of clean clothes because while I did have time to wash all the laundry, I did not have time to FOLD all the clean laundry and from the looks of the week ahead…I won’t have time to do it any time soon.

At 6:58, Dear Daughter is supposed to be heading out the door to the bus but now she is pouting on the couch because she can’t find her sweatshirt.

So, what do you want me do about it? Is it going to just run up to you and say ‘Here I am?’ You have to go look for it.

“But I have looked EVERYWHERE.”

Oh, so now pouting on the couch is going to solve the problem? Daughter, I cannot do everything for you. You need to go look for it yourself because I am finishing up the lunches.

I did a quick search around the living room and low and behold, I found her sweatshirt wadded up next to the chair. I then had to go all the way upstairs only to find her pouting on her bed staring at the floor. Perhaps she was using telepathy in order to find it?

I suggested to her that she perhaps use her hands instead and turning on the lights would not be unheard of and could even be helpful. She did not think I was wise and gave me “a look”. She’s almost a teenager and I am cringing. The Moody Roller Coaster is about to launch.

She races out the door and now I run around the house getting the boys up, dressed, socks and shoes on. Solving mini-crises as I go and finally get us out the door at 7:45. The rest of my day is fairly typical except for a really scary guy who may or may not be the roommate of my new client and sent off major Creep Warning Bells from head to toe. That has never happened in the 2 years I have been doing this job or the 5 ½ years I have been working in mental health. So, I know I need to heed that warning and get the heck out of Dodge. It took me about 45 minutes to stop shaking.

And now the Mad Dash of the Evening begins. Pick up Dear Daughter at 5:05. Pick up 3 boys at 5:10. Pick up McDonalds for BB at 5:25. It’s snowing like crazy. The roads are bad and my boys continue to horse around in the car and take their seat belts off which sends me into a frenzied panic and forces me to raise my voice in fear and frustration and resort to threats of serious bodily harm and thoughts of their bloody entrails spewed across the highway, marring the beautiful white snow if they don’t buckle up RIGHT NOW!!! Drop BB off at basketball practice at 5:45 then head off to church for Bible study. I was dismayed that I had promised Dear Daughter we would pick up Burger King because they have Wii toys but I realized that we would not cross paths with a BK and in this kind of weather, I was not too inclined to go out of my way. So, we hit another McDonalds.

After Bible Study, at 8:45, we are back on the road, in the snow and heading over to Grandma’s to pick up BB. I deliver Grandma’s birthday present but had hoped to stop in for 5 MINUTES TOPS but Peanut announces that “I have to go really bad. RIGHT NOW.” And he could not possibly wait 10 more minutes til we get home. I really think he wanted to ask Grandpa for a Starburst and watch Grandma open her present.

At 9:30, we are back on the road and arrive home at 9:50pm. I chase the boys and daughter to bed. I attempt to stay up and monitor the bedtime but I am exhausted. I have snapped at the children way too many times. I know that I am really pushed beyond my limits.

This morning, I have the treats for our staff meeting. I decide to make Carmel rolls that are sort of from scratch. I use Pilsbury buttermilk biscuits but make the Carmel from scratch. In the evening, it will be homework time, cleaning of the living room because Wednesday is church night and Thursday is Peanuts 6th birthday party. Sometime in there I have to make a cake, decorate it with RED letters via Peanuts request.

My house is a disaster. My family is coming over on Thursday. My boys are wild and fighting with each other constantly. I am tired just thinking of it. And I know that I will have many grouchy moments. You have been warned.

Signs that I am getting Older

1. My tolerance for loud has decreased exponentially with each passing year. I used to be able to crank up my radio and sing at the top of my lungs for the whole trip, whether it was 10 minutes or 3 hours. Now, I am perfectly satisfied to have the TV set on 10, the radio on 6 and the kids on mute.
2. I am finding that I want to wear my reading glasses more and more. Blech. And if I take them off, it takes several minutes for my eyes to readjust. I think this means I really do need them and I am just not trying to be “cool”.
3. I fall asleep at 9:45 pm. Last night, I was yawning and was sure it was almost 11pm. I shuddered when I looked at the clock and realized that it was not even 10pm. I decided that I would force myself to stay up another hour so that I could enjoy the quiet of the house for a while. However, by 10:30, I gave up and crawled into bed. My days of staying up until 2 or 3 in the morning are past.
4. I sound way too much like my parents on way too many occasions. I have caught myself saying things like “You will do it because I said so.” “Don’t come crying to me when …” “If you had done the job right in the first place, you wouldn’t have to do it again.” (I do pat myself on the back because I have NOT used the parental phrase “half-baked job”)
5. There are things that have begun to travel south that used to be further north and that is all I am going to say about that. But it is a sad realization.

A Christmas Song Observation

I have already mentioned that we love to sing Karaoke Christmas Carols in the car and have been known to occasionally start what I call the "Mini Van Dance Party" when a really good one comes on. L.O.V.E. IT!!

BB's observation this week, as he was tapping his fingers to a song, "It seems that every Christmas song has been made and then made again with a Rock version."

Variety is the spice of life. Some songs I prefer the older versions like Gene Autrey's "Santy Claus is Comin' to Town"...Cracks me up every time! Some songs, I love to hear just the instrumental versions.

Others I love the updated "Rocked out" songs. Other songs I get sick of very quickly. For example, "Christmas Shoes". It's very sweet. But I really only need to hear it once a year and I am good.

One of my new favorites is sung by my "Radio Boyfriend" Josh Groban. That man has a GORGEOUS voice. I can't remember what song he was singing but it carried me away and left me breathless with it's beauty.

And I have already mentioned my favorite by Mariah Carey "All I want for Christmas is You"...it's just plain fun. I can't belt it out, but then can anyone who sings Car Karaoke really sing? I rest my case...It doesn't matter.

You Have to Get Up Pretty Early to Fool Me…or At Least Before 7 am

I have this pantry cupboard in the garage. It’s where I keep the food that the kids are most likely to go through but I need them not to…It’s where I keep The Good Stuff; the juice boxes, the snacks, chips, cookies, beef jerky etc…anything that I need to ration out. It has a hasp and a combination lock.

One of my most clever children will try to peek when I work the combo in order to try to learn it. I have had experience with Peek Sneakers. I had a boy in 8th grade named Charlie who had his locker next to mine. In fact we often had lockers next to each other because of where our names were in the alphabet. P-e- and P-o-. Anyway, he was quite a bit taller than me. It’s not hard when you are 5’ 4”. He would look over my shoulder as I did my combo, then slam my locker shut so I had to do it again. SLAM! I would do my combo again. SLAM! And repeat. In eighth grade, I was not yet into my intellectual prime. He learned my combination. So, some mornings I would come in and my locker would be standing open. One time, he gave out or opened my locker for another boy who had a crush on me so that he could put a bouquet of carnations in my locker on Valentine’s day. I did not appreciate the sentiment at the time because I was crushing on someone else at the time. But a girl never forgets the boy who first gives her flowers and it was in part thanks to Charlie. He has also given me the awareness of how to protect my combination from the prying eyes of an almost 10 year old boy.

This week, I was in a rush and was not diligent with my replacement of the lock after gathering the assortment of items for lunches. I put the lock up on top of the cupboard and didn’t lock it. My darling daughter discovered it and did help herself to a snack. I was OK with that. But then dear son figured it out and hid the lock but of course when questioned his reply was “I don’t know, Mom. I haven’t seen it in a long time. I would never, ever, ever take it because that is wrong.”

Kiddo, quit while you are ahead. The more you talk, the more unbelievable you sound (Shhh, maybe I shouldn’t give away that secret!).

I have searched that garage and all the funny little crevices a smarty-pants 9 ½ year old might think to hide something he did not want found because he can then indulge himself and drink all the Capri Sun’s he wants and help himself to beef jerky when he thinks I don’t know. Except that he leaves the wrappers all over the place.

Kiddo, if you are going to take food, hide the evidence!

I have searched every couch cushion, under the couches, in drawers, in pockets and closets. I have been unable to find the padlock. So, I wrote it down on my shopping list, grumbling to myself all the while. This will teach me to be more diligent in the future. But then the kids should be learning something too when we run out of their favorite lunch items because they have eaten them all for snacks.

And don’t come crying to me because I am IMPERVIOUS to your tears. Do you hear me? IMPERVIOUS and IMMOVABLE. I am a rock.

Friday is trash day and I always forget about it, so I every week, I am making a mad dash around the house gathering trash bags and emptying waste baskets and the litter box in hopes that I will beat the garbage truck to the curb. I have not missed it yet but it does not mean I have not broken a sweat in my attempt.

Today was no different. But when I opened the garbage can to toss in some stray garbage, laying on top of a white trash bag, practically glistening like a beacon was the silver combination lock for the cupboard. I giggled and did a little jig as I walked over to the cupboard.

Oh, children, you are clever. But HA, HA, HA…you are not clever enough! The cupboard is locked yet again! NO TREATS FOR YOU!!!

Evidence to Prove that My Kids are Weird

1. They don’t like any potato that does not come in the form of a fry. Not even mashed. What kid in America does not like mashed potatoes? Apparently…mine.
2. My daughter does not like Spaghetti. What?? Who’s child are you? If I didn’t push her out myself, I would never believe she was mine. I LOVE spaghetti!! How can you NOT love spaghetti?
3. They wear their underwear backwards and claim it is more comfortable. Excuse me? Do you really think the tag rubbing against your belly button is comfy? Or all that extra fabric in the front that is supposed to fit your little back cheeks is going to make your pants fit better? I don’t get it.
4. If a little ketchup goes a long ways…then why not just drown your food in it? Better yet, lets just have our side dishes BE the condiments? I will confess, if it weren’t for ketchup, my kids would be seriously lacking vegetable servings and essential vitamins and minerals (and don’t try telling me that tomatoes are fruit…in my house, it’s a vegetable and so is ketchup!)
5. 3 out of 4 of my kids prefer their cheeseburgers “No pickles, no onions”. 1 out of 4 would prefer to have McDonald’s serve a “Pickle Burger” minus the burger. Pickles count as vegetables too, you know!
6. Why must a 7 year old boy sleep with every birthday, Christmas, Hope-you-get-well-soon, or other spontaneous present he has ever gotten? Don’t get me wrong, they are all neatly organized and compartmentalized but this same boy also has some issues with occasional night time accidents so changing his sheets becomes a very LONG process because Every.Cotton-picking.Creature. Must come down in a specific order and then be returned in order and carefully arranged again. Maybe he is a bit OCD?
7. Toys land in laundry baskets. Toy boxes hold misplaced socks. Huh??
8. My daughter must save everything. Nothing can be thrown away because “Mooooommmmmmmmmmm, it is so special to me…don’t you remember when…” Honey, you were in Kindergarten. It no longer fits. Its broken. You never use it. Half the time you can never find it until I tell you to clean up your side of the room.
9. The grosser the noise, the funnier it is and the more likely the boys will “Instant Replay” and then replay the replay. And the more we of the female variety complain, the more they do it. Along the same lines, there is a long list of “funny” words like booger, poop, wizz, the word for flatulence that I H.A.T.E--- really any word that is related to a body function or something you do in the bathroom. If it is socially inappropriate, it’s fair game. And the more important the social setting, the funnier it is.

If the lights dim in Hugo...

My darling daughter loves Christmas. She could not wait for me to finish vacuuming the living room before she was pulling out the decorations and deciding where everything should go. It would have been really cute that night if it wasn't so stressful for me. When did decorating the house become such a chore?

I think it changed when it became MY house and not my parents house. And I think it changed when I realized that I am really not a good duster. So, if we are going to put out pretty decorations, there is a thick layer of grit and grime that must be removed first and it is just a lot of work to haul out the boxes of decorations. The joyful exuberance is exhausting to me and I have realized that I no longer make the decisions about where things go because even if I do plan a position for a sentimental object, it will get moved by someone under 5 feet tall who has other ideas about where it is better suited.

So, I gave up.

I have to admit though that the house looks pretty darn cute. The kids have arranged objects in nice little groups even if they are not where I would have put them. We have had disagreements about where to hang extra strands of lights. It seems that every time I come home, there are more lights twinkling from somewhere. And if the glow of hundreds of little bulbs was not enough, the glow of excitement on my daughter's face is more than enough for me to step back and just enjoy the view. I won't get critical of the lights wrapped around my floor lamps and draped across my curtain rods. She at least understands that she can't tack them to the walls.

The boys have gotten enough Fire Safety Week stuff drilled into them that they have taken it on as their personal responsibility to unplug the lights when we are not home. It is really quite amusing. I think I will choose to de-stress about it and be proud because decorating for the holidays has truly become a family project.

Martha Stewart will not be showcasing us on her show by any means for we are not the epitome of elegance and good taste. But we are feeling cheerful, merry and bright. The power grid may surge a bit tonight as my daughter will no doubt find yet another strand of lights to plug in somewhere. Our karaoke Christmas carols being sung by the choir do not sound like sweet little cherubim but I do believe that you would recognize the cheerfulness and enthusiasm with which they are sung...even if my kids say "Pass the Whiskey" in Rudolf (Where they learned that I do not know...) and they all know that Mom will shush them when her new favorite comes on and she will turn up the radio and sing along with Mariah Carey singing "All I want for Christmas..." and those close to me know that I sound very little like Mariah...

But we are dashing through the snow, roasting chestnuts, and wishing you all a very merry Christmas with all the joy we can muster in our hearts in our own haphazard, off-key, non-Martha way!

I love this time of year.

Post Thanksgiving Posting

You could have knocked me down with a feather…

The intern who insulted me a while back completely floored me today by telling me how much he appreciates the work that I do because he knows first hand that often the Psych nurse is doing a lot of the medication education with the patients because the psychiatrists only spend about 5 minutes per client doing a med check.

It might sound weird and very woman-like, but I found myself fighting back a tear.
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Other news from the Thanksgiving weekend…

I cooked a big turkey. It was a little over 20 lbs and considering it was going to be myself and my 4 kids, that is a lot of turkey. My kids don’t eat a lot of turkey anyway so I had planned out what I would do with the inevitable leftovers ahead of time.

I kind of wish I had a recording of me wrestling this big boy. First of all, I did not get him completely thawed. I remembered this year that I needed to take out the neck. However because he was still frozen, I couldn’t actually get the neck out. My Mom just happened to call me while I was making stuffing and I lamented my problem. She assured me that I could just go ahead and used hot water to thaw the turkey and get the neck out.

Stuffing this guy was a real wrestling match. He was cold and slimy and would not cooperate. I wasn’t sure if I should put him in the bag first and stuff him or should I stuff him and then put him in the bag. I chose the first and kind of regretted it because I think I made my task harder. A couple of times I had to lift him up and cram stuffing down inside and he would skid across my counter. I will admit I let out a few girlish screams. I managed to get all 8 cups of bread stuffing inside him.

I don’t know how I managed to get him in the oven. I might have blacked out.

My big bird turned out to be ok. A little dry. Since I used one of those bags I think I could have shaved off about half an hour of cooking time with that. But in the long run, since most of the bird is cut up and bagged in my freezer or thrown into Wild Rice soup, it doesn’t matter.

My relaxing, traditional Thanksgiving was interrupted by PH developing several abdominal pain that was growing steadily worse, to the point where he was doubled over and his face was scrunched up in pain. I called the nurses line to see if I should go to urgent care or to the ER. When I felt his belly and it felt hard as a rock, before she even said it, I knew I was headed for the ER.

Thankfully, he was ok. The official diagnosis was “We don’t really know what it is. It’s probably a virus but the good thing is that it is not related to his surgery. It’s not a bowel obstruction. There’s no blood in his stool and no urinary infection. We have ruled out the bad stuff.” I was grateful for that because I had visions of watching the nurses put an NG tube down my son’s nose and I was not looking forward to that. Instead, I got to hold his hand while the nurse used a gloved finger to collect a stool specimen. That was enough. For both of us.

My kids

I would like to brag on my children today. They are home from school this week because of Thanksgiving and for conferences. I have a babysitter with them, so that makes a big difference. I fear if I had them at home alone, the house would not be standing when I get home. While I want them to enjoy their vacation and relax, I do want them to do a little work and I want to begin to instill some of my expectations in them about the state of cleanliness I can live with. So, I left them with some cleaning assignments each day.

On Monday, I asked that the living room and dining room be picked up. I was happy to come home and find that it was done. Yea!

On Tuesday, I asked that they pick up the 2nd floor and clean their rooms. The babysitter said, when I got home, “Don’t you want to show your mom how clean your rooms are?”

I knew then that this was going to be good! So, I was preparing my speech of praise and adoration. I was impressed! And I gushed all over my kids about how nice it all looked and how proud I was of them.

Today, there is really nothing left I want them to do except to maintain what they have already done. And the nice thing is that all I have to do is vacuum and laundry. What a treat!

School conferences went well. I told my daughter that hers was very boring because each of her teachers said the same thing:

“She’s such a sweet girl…blah blah blah…”
“She’s doing really well…blah blah blah…”
“She needs to speak up a little more in class.”
“If I could have more kids like her…”

Very boring. And her conferences were very quick. By the time I got to the end of my description of her conferences, she was giggling so I knew she got that I was teasing her and then I told her that I was really proud of her because she had struggled so much at the beginning but she has risen up to the challenge! And I love to hear that she is a sweet girl. One teacher even told me that if I wanted to trade her for her two boys, she was willing to trade.

My boys are doing well too. With a couple of exceptions. Peanut is struggling with paying attention and focusing. We are watching him for more signs of improvement and possibly a need for an ADHD evaluation. I am suspecting he is. So, I am mentally preparing for it.

PH writes his letters from the bottom to the top. So, his teacher and I will be helping him to retrain his brain in how to form his letters from the top down. I talked to him about it last night and he is resistant. But if he continues in this way, he will have great difficulty with cursive writing. He also needs to work on getting his homework turned in.

BB is going to be doing some pre-Algebra. Seriously? Wow. I know he needs a challenge. He needs to work on organization and not losing papers or willfully taking important papers/homework out of his backpack. His teacher has noted that he loves to draw comic books and his desk is full of them. I told her that my house is plastered with his comics too. Maybe this is a direction his life will take.

I’m so proud of my kids. I love them.

Another bad day

I broke a record today and I am not happy about it. I had a 13 or 14 year record for no traffic violations…and this does not include warnings. I have to restart the clock because I got pulled over for speeding not 1 mile from home.

I was distracted and lost in thought and truly did not pay attention until I saw the cop sitting on the side of the road with his radar gun aimed right at me. Oh Snap. He pulled out and followed me a ways and I thought maybe he would let me go but then he turned his lights on and I pulled over.

I have learned it is best to be honest and own up to my mistakes. I started pulling out my license and my registration and had it ready for him by the time he got to my window. Somehow, I got the feeling that he was not impressed by my preparation nor by my confession that I realized I had been going too fast in the 30mph zone.

He went back to his car and the tears just started flowing. I am already having an emotional week. I can not explain why. I just have a lot of things hitting me all at once and my emotions feel like they are hovering just below the surface, ready to break at the slightest disturbance. I looked up to wipe away the tears and saw another police car pull behind me with its lights on and I started to panic. I had visions of being arrested but I could not for the life of me figure out what it would be for. But the officer just seemed to be chatting with the one in the car right behind me.

When the officer returned to my window, he told me that he had too concerns: 1) my speed which was 15 mph over the posted and 2) expired tabs. I told him that I did not know my tabs were expired and that I had only recently bought the car. He explained that I could call the number on the back and get a court date and possibly get the tab citation dismissed if I could prove that it was a dealer error.

I drove away, sobbing and stressing about the money this was going cost, money I do not have. I looked up the citation numbers on the website but can not make heads or tails of the fee matrix and when I called the number on the back, the computer voice told me I have to wait 10 days for my citation to be in the system before I can find out what my ticket is going to cost me. So, I called the DMV and found out that my tabs will cost $110 and I missed the mailing because of when I bought my car and when the mailing goes out for June tabs. I called the car dealer and was told that I should have been offered to have my tabs added to my purchase at the signing. I told her that I was not offered this and would have said yes and that I had now been issued a citation.

She told me to fax a copy of my ticket and the cost to her and she will discuss it with her boss and see about paying for the cost of that part of my ticket because that part was an error on their end. Whew!

I still have to wait 10 days. I still have to pay $110 to get new tabs. And I broke my record. I am not happy. Not happy at all.

I’m having One Of Those Days.

My kids have the week off and the babysitter is coming to my house. In a flurry of excitement over not having to get up at 5:30am, I set my alarm for 6:30am last night (Truth be told that I seldom actually GET UP at 5:30…but I make the attempt every day). However, I apparently neglected to turn on my alarm and woke up mere minutes before the sitter arrived.

So, no shower…a quick up-do of the hair and brushing of teeth. I was ready in less than 15 minutes. I realized on my way to work, that the best time to do the middle school conferences was going to be NOW on the way to work rather than later on the way home from work. So, I called and left my boss a voicemail to tell her I would be late.

When I got to work, I remembered that it is Monday which means that it is also Jury Duty day at the county building and I can’t park in my usual parking lot and must park over in Timbuktu aka Law Enforcement Center lot. While putting away my car keys, I was digging for my work badge and realized that I did not have it. RATS!

This means a LONG walk around the building because I can’t use the employee entrance because I don’t have my magnetic badge. I thought I was saved for a minute when someone from my office came alongside me but apparently she walks faster than me or she was not trying to maneuver uneven sidewalk in 2 inch heeled boots and the door shut before I got there.

It was a chilly, rocky walk around the building. And the receptionists teased me and asked me to bribe them with chocolate before buzzing me into my office area. So, instead of being a mere 45 minutes late, I was an hour late.

Fortunately, I had an appointment in Forest Lake and was able to drive past my house and pick up my badge so that I would not have to stuff my pockets with chocolate or race someone to the door in order to get back in the building.

My luck ran out there because after heading back to my office, I picked up lunch and also some medications for a client. While trying to carry my drink, my purse, 4 bags of meds and my food bag, I got a very big paper cut on my finger and started to bleed all over one of the bags of medicine. And I still had a LONG walk to my office…slightly shorter because I could use the employee entrance.

When I sat down at my desk to eat my hasty lunch, I was dismayed because I found my baked potato to be very disappointing. It’s just one of those days.

A Lesson learned

I am a pretty easy going person. I can take a joke and I don’t get offended easily. I believe this comes from some hard years of being teased rather mercilessly when I was in junior high. I had to figure out how to toughen up and quit being so sensitive. I also had to develop a better sense of humor. It is a good thing to have thick skin.

Sometimes, my skin is a little too thick and I do not recognize things I should take offense to until it is too late. This results in a delayed reaction and I find myself stewing about things that have penetrated the elephant skin and caused me pain.

One of my weakest areas, a prime target for attack, is in the area of my skill level, education, and abilities. I had almost a decade of abuse in a marriage where I was beaten down and told either outright or more subtly that I was not smart, not capable, worthless and could never be anything except what my husband would allow me to be and without him, I was nothing. I have worked very hard and made a lot of sacrifices to get myself past that into the place I am now, feeling capable and confident and smart.

So, when I get attacked in that area, it hurts and my hackles get raised. I am reminded of the female lead in the movie Dances with Wolves… Stands With Fists. I like her name. It fits how I feel in these types of circumstances.

At work the other day, a Social Work intern, verbally attacked my credentials, my intelligence and my education. At first, I thought he was joking, sort of work-related banter. Another co-worker came to my cube to ask me a question about why his arm still hurt when he got his flu shot several weeks ago. I started discussing a few things about what it could be. The intern then chimes in,

“Don’t ask her medical questions. She does not know what she’s talking about. She’s just making stuff up.”

We chuckled. And he continued.

“She’s just a psych nurse and they only get one medical course. I know because I used to date a psych nurse and when I asked her questions about medical stuff she would tell me she didn’t know anything about medical stuff.”

I blew it off. However, at lunch, he brought it up again and started saying the same sort of things. One of my other co-workers looked over at him and then scrunched up her face in disgust. She made a comment about how he really is a jerk. A different coworker then said, “I believe that he has now insulted every one of us. He is not making any friends.”

The intern’s supervisor then said to him, in front of all of us at the table, “Tulip has a lot of education beyond psych nursing. She is also a public health nurse. She really knows a lot.”

I thanked him for coming to my defense. And it was then that it dawned on me that the intern was not really joking so much as he was stating something he really believed about nurses and he was putting me down.

Stands With Fists stood up and started getting really mad. I wrote an email of thanks to the intern’s supervisor and thanked him again for standing up for me and then I emailed my sister’s who offered me support and other ideas about how to defend my own honor. While they were amusing, they were not professional but they did make me feel better.

Would it be professional to decorate his cube in a swag of my business cards with all of my credentials highlighted? Maybe that would be a bit over the top. Perhaps I could toss out into a conversation the fact that I hold not just one Bachelor’s degree but two? Or is that too much?

Perhaps. But the thought of rubbing his nose in it did help me to calm myself down and feel a little better.

And yet I know that I would never do it for several reasons. I am a Christian and it would be very unkind to do so, no matter how much hurt I felt and how fun it would be for the moment. Would it really serve the higher purpose of displaying Christ to others? Definitely not.

On Wednesday nights, I am a small group leader for 3rd grade girls. One of the lessons I recently taught them was about pride and boasting. I was telling them that we are not to boast about our accomplishments because that is pride. However, it is OK to boast about other people. And this did happen in this case with the intern. My coworker told the intern what my credentials were. I did not have to say anything.

When I thought about it like that. I felt a little ashamed at my plans for revenge. But on the other hand, I have a good example to share with my 3rd graders. Live a lesson and then teach it. Take the bad and make it good.

Extremes

She is almost 12. She is wearing her winter coat, fully zipped, velcroed across her face with ear muffs, gloves AND a scarf. It’s 34’ outside but there is no way one lick of cold air is going to touch her skin.

He is 7 ½ years old. He reluctantly puts socks on. He wears his slip on shoes with the heels folded down. IF he is wearing his coat, it’s hanging off his shoulder and it’s never zipped. This morning, he jumped in the van without a coat, claiming it was in the van waiting for him. It’s not the first time that has happened.

It’s the same day and the same temperature. I don’t know what the difference is. Is it a difference in tolerance to cold? Is it maturity? Is it a boy/girl thing?

Kids are just weird.

Tuesday

It was bound to happen sooner or later. The day it will happen is Thursday November 20, 2008. I will be initiated into the club of Sports Mom. My oldest son will start his very first basketball practice. He is elated. So elated, he practically floated on air and sang the words to his siblings. He has been waiting a very long time for this day.

I hope, hope, hope that he will not be disappointed. And I really hope that he has a lot of fun.

I am glad that the coach is a father of one of his teammates, but I did not catch the name because I was still catching my breath when I heard the words “basketball”, “first practice”, “Thursday” and “$50”. I had kinda hoped, when I got the letter saying that there were going to be 13 kids who could not be placed on a team if someone did not step up an volunteer to coach, that there would be no basketball this year.

It’s purely selfish. I will admit that. I am not ready for to give up precious evenings for practices and Saturdays for games and…gasp…tournaments? It has very little to do with what would be good for my son. Things like sportsmanship, working on a team, practice, focus, concentration, and having fun playing a sport.

Nope. It’s all about me and how it will affect my life.

Shame on me.

It is going to be very hard. It is going to impact my week that is already very tightly scheduled.

Tulip, too bad. Suck it up and deal with it. The smile on that boy’s face. The excitement in his voice when he talked about his first practice. The fact that he was so excited he could hardly sleep. How can you deny him this joy?

It’s not about the money. It’s not about the time. It is about the boy. He needs this. He wants this. So, we will adjust our lives and make it work. And I will be the proudest Basketball Mom on the sidelines, snapping pictures and putting scrapbook pages together in my head the whole time!

Living with ADHD

Life with an ADHD kid is a challenge for even the most organizationally gifted of mothers. I would never put myself in that category, mind you. I would say that I have some organization skills and a lot of creativity. (Tidiness would NOT be one of them but I am working on it).

The child with ADHD constantly loses things. And often times, he loses the same things several times a day. It is interesting to note that sometimes he will remember leaving it in one place but does not remember that he moved it nor does he remember the new location. It is very frustrating.

This past week, his winter coat went AWOL. It was last seen on his person by Grandma on his way to school. We think. But it was a crazy week because I was at the hospital with his brother and then the temperature got warmer and he did not need it, so I did not worry about it until the temperature dropped again.

At that point, I had to put out an APB on his grey coat, size 10 with the orange, down-filled lining. I searched every place in the house. Every closet. Every nook, cranny, crevice, and cubby. I checked the obvious and the un-obvious. One never knows with the ADHD boy where that coat will land because his attention gets diverted by shiny objects or other things of interest. This would be why I find one shoe on each floor and various items of clothing tossed through out the house. It isn’t merely laziness. It is just the way his brain works. Things drop where he stops.

The APB on the coat extended to school and I enlisted the help of his 4th grade teacher, the lunch room para’s and the ladies who work in the office and the school nurse. It is possible that his classmates may have been helping him search through the lost and found and the coat room after recess. To no avail. I also called Grandpa who reported seeing it with Grandma in the car but then reported no longer seeing it in the car. Grandma stated that she distinctly remembered putting it upon BB’s body and sending him off to school. That was the last time it was seen.

11 days ago.

I was frustrated and bit back the tears. I really did not want to have to buy another winter coat. I had rejoiced in the knowledge that every one, including my daughter (thanks to a co-worker of my sister), had a really nice, warm coat and my only expenditure was going to be for winter boots for my daughter and older two boys. Peanut, being the youngest, will have the luxury of many choices in winter foot wear this year.

Day 12. While in the coatroom at church, I reached for Peanut’s coat and noticed on the rack, a familiar grey and orange coat. My heart rejoiced and I called BB over and wrapped him up in the warmth of his coat. He was significantly less enthusiastic than I was. To him, it’s “just a coat”. To me, it’s the symbol of something greater. It’s a blessing. The AWOL coat has returned home.

My kids would think I was really silly if I killed the fatted calf over a coat. But that is how I felt. I was ready to dance, shout and sing.

Blessings don’t have to be big to be significant. And miracles don’t have to be magical to miraculous. We just have to notice them for what they are and thank the Lord for them when they come. And if we feel like doing a happy dance in the kitchen while making Shepherd’s pie, so be it.

From the Desk of: Tiger, Your Friendly Family Cat

It has come to my attention that you, the two-legged ones, who share my home have forgotten a few of the basic rules of living with us, the cats. So, I am going to clarify those rules for you:

1. We, Tiger and Shadow, expect that there will be food in both of our bowls every morning. We would prefer it to be poured promptly at 5 am. If you are not up at 5 am to do so, then we will begin a game of Chase and Tag-Your-It which will include and not be limited to, running across your bed and possibly your head.
2. We do not like doors to be closed. We will scratch at them until you let us in and we don’t care if you are using your version of a litter box. Open the door or we will continue to scratch and yell at you until you do.
3. All flat surfaces are our domain. Get over it. This includes the bathroom counter, the kitchen counter, the table and the end tables. It even includes the top of the refridgerator and those cute little shelves you have hanging on the wall. If it’s flat, we will like to rest on it.
4. We like to look out the window and smell the fresh air so please open the blinds and crack the window. This may be done shortly after we have our breakfast.
5. We also like baskets of clothes (and especially those that just come out of the dryer!) and balled up blankets. Since we are creatures of leisure, it is important that we have a variety of napping locations available at all times. Don’t bother making your bed, Shadow will just crawl up under the covers until she has her nap spot just right.
6. We like water. We don’t like to take baths but we like to watch water and we like to drink water. This means that watching you get wet in the shower or the tub is very fascinating but it does not mean we want to pulled in or splashed. It just makes us cranky and likely to find other locations besides that litterbox in the kitchen, if you catch my drift. We like to drink water but can’t fit our head in the glass so, if we find a tasty drink, we will knock it over to increase our access and share with each other and if you don’t want your mail to get wet, then you should not leave it on the table where the water is.
7. What I do while lying in the sink is my business. Sometimes, a cat needs a cool, quiet spot. And that is all I am going to say about that.
8. You are here for our amusement and pleasure. You will pet us when we want to be pet. We will sit on your lap when it suits us and we want a warm place to nap. Purring is something we do because it feels good to us. It has nothing to do with you, but it if makes you better, fine.
9. In conclusion, keep the food dish full, the litter box empty and the windows open and we will be very, very happy. We may even be inclined to snuggle up on your lap and purr.

I’m a Technological Late Bloomer…but I am on the Bandwagon Now!

I used to be afraid of computers. Very afraid. For my high school graduation, I got a typewriter that could store whole documents and print them out later. I was content with that. I did not need anything more than that.

However, when I was entering college, it was 1989 and the Information Age was being born. Computers were becoming more and more important in college life. I had to take a computer class and learn how to use Word Perfect which was heavy on the F-keys. For a techno-phobe like me, I was in a shaky state of panic. I was a good typist. I could type 65 wpm. But throw in things like F3 for print and F5 for align or whatever and I was lost in a haze of confusion. I barely made it out of that class alive.

I vaguely recall something buzzing around campus called “Eeee Mail”. But I did not have a clue. Why would I send my friends a note on the computer when I could call them on the phone or pop over to their room. I had no use for it. The only thing I liked, or found interesting, was that the college created our account name using the first 3 letters of our last name and then the first 3 letters of our first name. So my gang of friends began to call each other by our new acronyms; carbra, carmar, burjen, sanpet, tonder, petton, aleste, popsus.

A few years later, I met a man I would eventually marry. And he was a nerd, a geek, an egghead. He lived and breathed computers. He had since he was in 6th grade. The good thing was that he was a good teacher and showed me how to use his computer and the wonderful things it could do that far surpassed the abilities of my typewriter and I was hooked.

Since he loved to be on the cutting edge, he began to show me things on what he called the “internet”. I had no time for that. It was confusing and I could not figure it out. But he also showed me email. This was a good thing because more and more professors were beginning to use email as part of their class communication.

Since I had transferred schools and was now 150 miles away from my friends at the private college, email become more useful and a faster way to communicate than snail mail! I was catching on.

A few years later, a college graduate and living in St. Louis with my husband, email became my life line. The internet became more user friendly. And I was becoming a full-fledged computer junkie.

I am a late bloomer but I catch on eventually.

It was the same with cell phones. For the longest time, I could not fathom why anyone would want to be available by phone anytime, any place. But when I divorced and was going back to school and had children who were in school or at daycare, the cell phone became the only means for me to be reached in the case of an emergency. And now, it is my only phone. I can’t live without it.

I used to say that I would never give one of my children a cell phone. I should bite my tongue.

I have a daughter who is now in middle school and has activities with school and church. She is also home by herself in the afternoon. Since I decided not to have a home phone, the cell phone for the kids became a necessity. However, I realized there were good things about it. She can take it with her if she goes to a friend’s house or she and her brother’s go to the park to play and I can still get a hold of her or she can get a hold of me.

“But I see no point in texting people. That’s just crazy. Why would you type a note when you could just call them.”

Famous last words again. I’m a texter. I admit it. And I love it. Sometimes, you don’t need to have a long phone conversation with someone. With my daughter, just a quick hello and “Do you have homework?” is all we need.

I may start out reluctant with technology but I eventually cave. It’s just my way.

Taking Back My House…One Room At A Time

Five people, four of whom are under the age of 12, and two cats living under one roof can create quite a mess. And when the one adult, who is the only one who seems to care about the mess, works 45-50 hours a week plus various evening activities, homework and basic hygiene, it really piles up after a while. And this adult is feeling the stress.

My Mom commented that I should take things one step at a time and declare a moratorium (this is the vocabulary word of the year) on:
a) dishes in the living room and
b) pencils, crayons and other writing implements carelessly strewn about.

So, I bought a pencil cup and put on the kitchen counter. I even artfully arranged pencils in it, in hopes that it would inspire the little people into using it.

Her other piece of advice was to take back one small space at a time. She suggested I clear a perimeter around my bed. Sort of a relaxing, clutter-free Mom-zone. I liked the idea but tackling my bedroom, which I share with my almost 12 year old daughter, felt a little too huge even after considering her idea of taping off my “clean zone” and focusing on that only. I think the problem is that I can still SEE the rest of the mess under my daughter’s lofted bed and the huge pile of unwashed laundry in the closet.

I decided to tackle the garage. Actually, I didn’t plan to clean the garage. It just sort of happened. Then I got on a roll and into the groove and I just kept going until it was done.

This project started like many projects do… in a completely different area. In this case, the front closet. I needed to get to the back of the closet in order to pull out winter coats, hats, mittens and boots. In order to get these things, I needed to pull out my Eliptical machine. And the Eliptical machine is something I plan to post on Craigslist, since I am not using it because:
a) there’s NO ROOM in my townhouse and
b) if I really felt ambitious I could go over to the exercise room and use an elliptical or treadmill there
c) I am not that ambitious.

However, getting the machine out of the closet, while wondering how I ever got it IN the closet, is about the equivalent of a 30 minute cardio workout in itself. But I won’t be doing THAT every day.

So, now that the beast is out of the closet, I dragged it to the kitchen and photographed it so that I can post pictures on my ad. But I can’t leave it in the kitchen, taking up valuable real estate there…I must find another home until I get it posted and sold. Enter the garage!

Whew!

So, in order to make this exercise beast fit into my garage and still be able to drive my van in, I needed to reorganize. I did have the foresight earlier of a possible venture of this nature and I had bought 8 red hooks for hanging bikes from the ceiling. I was kinda sorta sure I could figure out how to get them onto the ceiling and fairly almost certain I could then get the bikes up onto the hooks.

I think.

Maybe.

OK. I was willing to give it a good try before calling a male friend for help.

A few weeks ago, I had bought myself a tool box and a small lock. It was a necessity since my tools seem to grow legs and disappear. I had to purchase a 4th hammer this past weekend. And I still haven’t found my measuring tape. But the tools I do have are now safely locked in their box.

So, I gathered my tools and assessed my project. I looked at the screw ends of these hooks and figured I would need to make a hole before twisting them into the ceiling. Not a bad assessment for a girl. I was frustrated that I didn’t have my measuring tape or a stud finder. But then I looked up and the light went on.

It’s a garage. And while it is sheet-rocked, the seams are not covered in mud and tape! Brilliant! So, I began to pound my nail starter-thingy and didn’t even whack my thumb. Pretty soon, I had the first bike hung. I was impressed. Next thing I knew, the kids poked their heads out and they were really impressed and asked if they could ride the bike while it hung from the ceiling.

That would be a big NO.

While hanging the 2nd bike, I couldn’t quite see the hook and the tire slipped. Next thing I know, I have a bike bouncing on top of my head. Thank goodness, no one was around to see it. I managed to get it hung up without further incident. I also got the other two hung up on the other side of the garage. The space that opened up on the garage floor was astounding.

I was brutal. I swept and rearranged. I tossed toys and lots of leaves and garbage. And the garage looks clean. Better yet, the Eliptical Beast has a spot and it isn’t in the way! But my incentive for posting it online has diminished because it is tucked away so tidily. Maybe I should pull it out a little so that I trip on it and remind myself that I need to sell it!!

Now that my garage is clean, I am almost ready to tackle my bedroom.

Almost.

Chilly Day for Chili

I am not ashamed to admit that I have a very weird, some would say warped, sense of humor. I see things a little off center and it makes me laugh. I do believe it is a gift from God, so I have learned to just enjoy it and not make excuses. And most of the time, my type of humor is well received if it is understood or it is ignored (which I think is because it is not understood).

I have been chuckling to myself all day because of a bizarre conversation I had with a friend who has a warped sense of humor equal or perhaps even surpassing my own. I was making chili. And I make chili because it is something I like and not because it is something my children like or ask for. I know, in fact, that they will eat very little of it and I will wind up freezing a huge quantity of it which means there will be more for later and a few more meals that I don’t have to cook. For me, it’s a win-win situation. For my kids, well, they will have a slight grumble in their belly. And I don’t think that is always a bad thing. They are certainly not starving.

Anyway, I added to my chili recipe a pound of ground moose that my neighbor gave me. In August, my kids were creating some sort of fort in the front yard using these milk crates. He pulled me aside one day and asked me about them. I was afraid he was going to be mad that they were messing up the yard but instead he was excited because he has been looking for crates for his propane tanks. He told me he was going hunting for moose very soon and would I sell some of my crates to him?

I considered it for a few days and decided that I had plenty and could certainly spare 4 of them. So, I named my price of five bucks. He was so tickled, he practically danced on my patio. And then he promised me “a slab of meat” when he returned.

Oh-Kay.

I wasn’t sure what I would do with moose meat. I didn’t know anything about how to cook it. So, when he brought four 1 lb paper wrapped and frozen packages, I breathed a sigh of relief because, this I could work with! I wasn’t sure I would make Moose burgers but I figured I could toss it into sauce or chili and my kids would never know the difference.

Back to the weird part. So, I told my friend K that I was making chili with moose meat and he texted me back and asked if I was going to tell my children. I laughed.

Are you kidding? They will barely touch it as it is!

Then he texted that if I could find some squirrel, we could eat chili while watching Rocky and Bullwinkle and then tell the kids after what they were eating. Clearly, he was not going to be over to clean up the vomit on my freshly cleaned carpet!

But I laughed. Really hard and very much out loud. And then I texted back that I could probably hit a couple squirrels on my way to or from work and toss them in.

I have now nicknamed this chili, in lieu of my usual “Tulip’s Almost Famous Chili”, to “Tulip’s Bullwinkle Chili”. And I have been laughing all day.

To make myself giggle even more, I was at an appointment and saw a couple of squirrels scampering across my line of sight. I erupted into peals of laughter.

I am very, very weird. I’m OK with that.

My first Meme:

(from my friend Jamsco)

“The rules are simple. 1) Pick up the nearest book and find page 123. 2) Count the first five (full) sentences. 3) Then quote the next three sentences.:”

This will be interesting because I am at work. Here goes:

“Monitor vital signs. May cause bradycardia, hypertension, or hypotension. An unexplained decrease in blood pressure may indicate hemorrhage.”

--From Davis’s Drug Guide for Nurses
(but I will confess I cheated because this is the 2nd book I picked up…)

Here is what I found in the 1st book I picked up (The Professional Guide to Signs and Symptoms):

“Next, check your nipples for secretions by gently squeezing one nipple between your thumb and forefinger. Check the other nipple the same way. Notify your doctor if you see any secretions, and describe the color and amount.”

And that, folks, is what you get when you ask a nurse!!

Sick Days

Mom, RN was “on duty” today. BB started off his day by telling me that he was not feeling well and that he had “thrown up during the night”. I was immediately suspicious because usually, if a child throws up during the night, they don’t completely make it to the bathroom, nor do they have the wherewithal to flush AND clean up any trace of “forensic evidence”.

Well, son, what are your symptoms? What is bothering you?

I get the vague response, “I just don’t feel good.” So, I check for a fever. Nope. I check for changes in skin pallor. Nope…looks pink and perky. I check for signs of diaphoresis (cold sweats). Nope…skin is dry and warm. Mom, RN’s assessment is that he is well enough to go to school.

Kiddo, you are going to have to tough it out and go anyway.

“Can’t you stay home with me?”

Nope. Mom is out of sick leave. I used it all up when we had strep.

“How about Grandma?”

Nope. Grandma has to work. There are no other options.

“How about Grandpa?”

Nope. Tough it out, buddy. Sometimes, grown-ups have to do that too. We have to go to work when we don’t feel well and rest when we get home.

His last attempt to persuade me was the funniest: “But Mom, I don’t want to spread my germs to the other people.”

If you don’t have a fever, you are not contagious. And you are not spreading any more germs than you usually do.

Pretty soon, he quit trying to convince me. I was waiting for more fake symptoms to appear like dry heaves or a forced coughing fit. But he did none of that. Instead, he sat up and started playing with his lego’s and asked for a pop tart and a glass of milk.

I know what it is like to feel uncomfortable in school because things aren’t going well for some reason. And I was sick a lot when I was in 7th grade. Most of it was legitimate. I had strep throat and then a recurrence of strep. I also got the flu. But there were a lot of my sick days that were vague illnesses with symptoms like “my tummy just hurts”, “my head is throbbing”, and “I don’t know what’s wrong, but I just don’t feel well.” You can’t fool the fooler. I don’t want him to learn that he can avoid his problems like I tried to do. And avoidance only made things worse for me. I missed so much school that I fell behind in all my classes and never really caught up. I didn’t develop any good friendships outside of my group of misfits. We called ourselves “The 4 T’s” because all of our names started with T. And for one reason or another, none of us fit in with anyone else but each other.

I fear that BB could fall into the same trap. This is where I figure I need to be firm in my “too sick for school” criteria; Fever, chills, vomit, excessive and debilitating diarrhea or a doctor diagnosed contagion, recovering from surgery and possibly broken bones.

The following things will have to be toughed out:
Headaches (but I will give Ibuprofen)
Stomachaches (with no vomiting)
“I just feel ickies”
I’m too tired

But on true sick days, I do offer as much TLC as I can give. I will bring you Sprite or Ginger Ale. You can call me or text me when you feel lonely. I will set up your sick bed on the couch with your favorite pillow and soft, warm blankets. I may or may not stay home, depending on your age. But I will also do what is best for you in regards to your illness which may mean limited choices in food and beverage, decreased stimulation from the TV or siblings and you may have to take a nap or two.