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.