I hate it. It sucks up so much of my free time and energy and just plain drives me crazy. To further compound matters, one of my machines that I rely heavily on is not currently working and it is taking another slice of time and energy that I do not feel I can spare.
My dishwasher. It currently is nothing more than a white door filling up a large hole under the counter. It should make my life easier. It should free up my time in the kitchen. I have fought this beast for almost a year and I am now waving the white flag of defeat. The beast has won. My aggravation is compounded by the fact that because I am merely renting my townhouse, I am at the mercy of the management company and one particular person and when he "can get around to it."
I tried to up the ante last week by calling the Management office and speaking with the maintenance coordinator directly but then I started getting calls again from D any way. He did come out and fix the light in my kitchen that quit working. But he told me that he would be calling Sears to come out and look at the dishwasher. It has now been over two weeks since I called in my complaint. I have been washing all of my dishes by hand since that time, occasionally glaring at my dishwasher sitting smugly on the floor, empty and useless.
This man D either accused me or insinuated that I was using laundry soap and thus my dishwasher was not going to work. He did not listen to me even though I assured him I am not "that stupid" and do know the difference between the two. I have been washing dishes by and in a machine, as well as doing laundry since I was 8 years old. I know the difference between all the soaps. He then admitted that his wife buys the soap. I then realized he was looking for an excuse to not be responsible for the problem with the dishwasher.
I could tell him the problem. It's a cheap piece of junk!
He did send Sears out and they did all sorts of tests and ran a load with 1 cup. And told me that everything was fine. It spins, it sprays, it heats up water. But seriously, who ever washes just 1 cup? And if you have read my blog, you would know that I have been known to wash an entire load of just cups!
So, in preparation for whenever D "gets around to it", I have written a list that I will tack onto my dishwasher door:
The Problem with the Dishwasher is:
It does not dissolve the soap even after running it for 3 cycles. Please note the soap still in the dispenser, dried onto the door and down in the bottom of the machine. That is after 3 full cycles.
The dishes come out dirtier than they went in. They have a soapy residue that has to be washed off. The worst is the glasses that foam when you put water in them because of the soap.
The items in the top rack do not appear to get any water on them as they are usually dry and still look dirty.
What I have done to Resolve or Work with the Problem:
Run half loads.
Space the dishes out so that no dish touches the other and water can easily get through
Tried powdered detergent, liquid detergent, different brands
Ran the dishwasher with a dishwasher cleaner
Hopefully this note will be clear enough for the repair man to make an assessment. I really do not like complaining but I don't have a lot of time to do the things I already do and to have to add washing dishes by hand after every meal is adding a fair amount of stress to my day and my life in general.
I am trying to get my children more involved with cleaning. I used to have them switch jobs every week but one day it hit me that while this does give them variety, it is not giving them mastery nor is it giving them ownership. So, for the time being and I am seriously considering a period of 6 months, they have one area that is their responsibility to keep clean and to thoroughly clean each week.
I'm getting a bit of grumbling and it is not always done to my satisfaction. However, it does provide me with opportunities to instruct each child in the things they are doing well and then the areas that they need to work harder at. I am hoping that the more they have to clean their assigned area, the more they will begin to care about it and will begin to see the messes and take care of them before they get bad.
It is funny when I hear some complaining. My favorite is from BB who says, "Why do we have to clean on Saturday. That's our day off."
I remind him that the Bible says God worked for 6 days and rested on the 7th. I also tell him that Saturday is also my day off and while I would love to just sit around and do fun stuff, there are things that have to be done and the sooner we get them done, the more time we have left to do fun stuff.
While my house is not perfect by any means, it is looking a lot tidier except in certain "Kid only" areas. And I will work on those one at a time. The organization I started last week is really helping me keep on top of paper that comes into the house. It is more clear to the kids where things are supposed to go. It does not mean they always do it but with a quick reminder, they usually will put their coat away or their backpack. This is doing wonders for my stress level. There is a lot to be said for coming home to a house that is picked up and the kitchen is clean.
It is just a never ending job. I read a quote in a magazine the other day that is very appropriate. It made me chuckle. "Cleaning your house when you have children at home is like shoveling when it is still snowing."
Tuesday, February 24, 2009
Thursday, February 19, 2009
Pumpkin Head
This little guy, just 7 years old...well, turning 8 in May, is having a really tough time. He had surgery in November to resolve the chronic reflux he was having. Over the course of the summer and fall, he was getting sicker and sicker. He was irritable. He was vomiting and regurgitating multiple times an hour and nothing we tried was helping. Surgery seemed like the only option. Of course, I was aware that surgery is not without risk and not without potential complications. It was not an easy decision but I did decide to go ahead with it because it did seem to be the best option.
Since his surgery on November 4 but probably more since Christmas, he has begun losing weight. He has lost about 5-6 lbs. When your starting weight is 54 lbs, this is very significant. And when people begin to notice and make comments about it, it is significant. He also began falling asleep every time we were in the car. He began falling asleep in school. I noticed his appetite was severely diminished and he was often sick after eating and would need to rest for a while after eating.
After trying to work on it myself, I finally realized it was a bigger problem then I could handle and probably a bigger problem than I was even aware of. So, I got him in to the doctor last week. He had some blood work done at that time as well and it shows that he is beginning to show signs of malnutrition.
So, for the next month, I am making a very deliberate and concerted effort to increase his caloric intake in any way I can. The doctor wants him to drink two supplemental shakes a day and to take his Prevacid again. In one month, we will go back in and see how he is doing and if he will need more tests.
What I suspect, now that I have begun to do some research on my own is that he has something called Dumping Syndrome in which his stomach, because of the surgery, is now emptying too fast into his intestines and thus nutrients are not being absorbed because they don't have the time to sit in the stomach and get broken down further. He seems to have the symptoms of the fatigue and stomach pain after eating, the weight loss and malnutrition.
The treatment is exactly what we are doing now and it may be a long road to recovery for him. He is going to have to learn to eat differently. I am going to have to learn to feed him differently. The other children will have to learn that he will get snacks and things at different times and will get offered things that they will not. It is going to be something that affects all of us.
I have been talking with the school psychologist and the school nurse. We are developing a 504 plan which is to put some things in place that will allow us to help him recover. He can have his Ensure in class. He likes that he has a "desk refrigerator" as he calls it and he has some yummy enriched cereal bars and snack bars at school. I am so grateful to the school for how they have just jumped right in to help me out and to help him.
I did not have that experience with some of the other schools I have worked with. I had a difficult time working with a principal when BB was being diagnosed with ADHD and we were trying out different medications to figure out which one was going to work best for him. She labeled him a sociopath. He was 6 years old. I tried to explain that it was the medication and that it was blunting his affect and personality and this was not him. But she saw him in this troublemaker category and refused to see him any other way. I felt that she labeled me as well. I was in my last year of nursing school and frantically trying to balance classwork, clinicals, 4 children and a part-time job and then a child with a learning disability. I was at my wits end but I think she saw me as witless and pathetic. That was how she treated me; patronizing me and asserting her power and authority.
Contrast that experience with what I am experiencing now and I am completely blown away by the care and concern I am receiving for each one of my boys. It is very humbling.
Since his surgery on November 4 but probably more since Christmas, he has begun losing weight. He has lost about 5-6 lbs. When your starting weight is 54 lbs, this is very significant. And when people begin to notice and make comments about it, it is significant. He also began falling asleep every time we were in the car. He began falling asleep in school. I noticed his appetite was severely diminished and he was often sick after eating and would need to rest for a while after eating.
After trying to work on it myself, I finally realized it was a bigger problem then I could handle and probably a bigger problem than I was even aware of. So, I got him in to the doctor last week. He had some blood work done at that time as well and it shows that he is beginning to show signs of malnutrition.
So, for the next month, I am making a very deliberate and concerted effort to increase his caloric intake in any way I can. The doctor wants him to drink two supplemental shakes a day and to take his Prevacid again. In one month, we will go back in and see how he is doing and if he will need more tests.
What I suspect, now that I have begun to do some research on my own is that he has something called Dumping Syndrome in which his stomach, because of the surgery, is now emptying too fast into his intestines and thus nutrients are not being absorbed because they don't have the time to sit in the stomach and get broken down further. He seems to have the symptoms of the fatigue and stomach pain after eating, the weight loss and malnutrition.
The treatment is exactly what we are doing now and it may be a long road to recovery for him. He is going to have to learn to eat differently. I am going to have to learn to feed him differently. The other children will have to learn that he will get snacks and things at different times and will get offered things that they will not. It is going to be something that affects all of us.
I have been talking with the school psychologist and the school nurse. We are developing a 504 plan which is to put some things in place that will allow us to help him recover. He can have his Ensure in class. He likes that he has a "desk refrigerator" as he calls it and he has some yummy enriched cereal bars and snack bars at school. I am so grateful to the school for how they have just jumped right in to help me out and to help him.
I did not have that experience with some of the other schools I have worked with. I had a difficult time working with a principal when BB was being diagnosed with ADHD and we were trying out different medications to figure out which one was going to work best for him. She labeled him a sociopath. He was 6 years old. I tried to explain that it was the medication and that it was blunting his affect and personality and this was not him. But she saw him in this troublemaker category and refused to see him any other way. I felt that she labeled me as well. I was in my last year of nursing school and frantically trying to balance classwork, clinicals, 4 children and a part-time job and then a child with a learning disability. I was at my wits end but I think she saw me as witless and pathetic. That was how she treated me; patronizing me and asserting her power and authority.
Contrast that experience with what I am experiencing now and I am completely blown away by the care and concern I am receiving for each one of my boys. It is very humbling.
Wednesday, February 18, 2009
More on the science fair and other stories
According to BB, the egg was a huge hit and EVERYONE wanted to touch it. He also said that the graph we made on excel did not need to be explained "because everyone got it right away". He also said he did not have to do any talking. I am still hanging on with baited breath to find out what his grade is. He said he did get a lot of positive remarks about his poster. So, we did good. And I think that he did learn a great deal in the process, so that is a good thing.
Peanut is completely cracking me up lately. He says the funniest things. Except that he says them in all seriousness and does not mean to be funny. Over the weekend, we were at Sam's Club and eating lunch. He tried to quote a line from the boy's favorite show Star Wars: the Clone Wars and said, "Let's turn these clones into scrapbooks." I believe the correct word was "scrap metal" but his version is very cute and the kids launched into lengthy descriptions of robots sitting down to cut up pictures and glue them down, showing each other their books. There was a great deal of giggling and laughing. I enjoyed it immensely because for a few brief moments, the older brothers were laughing with Peanut instead of making fun of him or calling him annoying.
There was an older couple sitting behind us and the gentleman said to me, as I stood up, "I really enjoyed listening to your children talking about their favorite show and laughing. It was a lot of fun." I figure it really made his day if he took the time to comment to me about it.
This morning, while driving in the car, Peanut said something and it made me laugh. I told him he was very funny and very smart. He replied, "Am I smarter than PH?"
No. You two are funny and smart in your own unique ways. One is not better than the other. God made you special because he has a plan for your life and needs you to be how you are so you can fulfill that plan. We just don't know what that plan is because you are still growing up.
"I know what my special plan is..."
Oh you do? What is it?
"To take over the world."
I burst out laughing.
"And to get lots of toys."
Peanut is completely cracking me up lately. He says the funniest things. Except that he says them in all seriousness and does not mean to be funny. Over the weekend, we were at Sam's Club and eating lunch. He tried to quote a line from the boy's favorite show Star Wars: the Clone Wars and said, "Let's turn these clones into scrapbooks." I believe the correct word was "scrap metal" but his version is very cute and the kids launched into lengthy descriptions of robots sitting down to cut up pictures and glue them down, showing each other their books. There was a great deal of giggling and laughing. I enjoyed it immensely because for a few brief moments, the older brothers were laughing with Peanut instead of making fun of him or calling him annoying.
There was an older couple sitting behind us and the gentleman said to me, as I stood up, "I really enjoyed listening to your children talking about their favorite show and laughing. It was a lot of fun." I figure it really made his day if he took the time to comment to me about it.
This morning, while driving in the car, Peanut said something and it made me laugh. I told him he was very funny and very smart. He replied, "Am I smarter than PH?"
No. You two are funny and smart in your own unique ways. One is not better than the other. God made you special because he has a plan for your life and needs you to be how you are so you can fulfill that plan. We just don't know what that plan is because you are still growing up.
"I know what my special plan is..."
Oh you do? What is it?
"To take over the world."
I burst out laughing.
"And to get lots of toys."
Tuesday, February 17, 2009
The Weekend
More 12 year old drama. A few weeks ago, in celebration of Princess's 12th birthday, we went shopping and got her a bunch of really cute clothes because her wardrobe was pretty pathetic and things weren't fitting. However, many of the items we bought are still on their hangers with the tags still on. In my new "We Will Be Organized Or Die Trying" mode, I told Princess that she needed to pick out her Sunday clothes on Saturday. I am fairly certain I told her to do this twice. I am almost positive I told her to do this 3 times. But come Sunday morning, 20 minutes before we are to head out the door, I am scrambling to get the boys dressed and ready and Princess is still sitting in her PJ's. I told her to get dressed. She plops down on her bed and sighs.
Oh No You Don't.
I continue to get ready. The clock is ticking and I am not ready, only half-dressed and half-way done with my hair.
Princess, you need to get dressed.
"I don't know what to wear."
You have at least 5 brand new, cute tops to wear. Pick one. I don't even care if you wear jeans because you don't have many skirts. But you have to put something on.
More sighs.
You are 12 years old. And way too old to have your Mommy pick out your clothes. You have until I have my hair done and am dressed to get yourself ready. That is about 10 minutes.
When I finished getting ready, I found her sitting on the yoga ball in our closet, pouting.
Are you dressed?
"Yes."
Then what are you doing in the closet?
"Just sitting here."
I am trying to laugh about this even though at the time I was incredibly frustrated. If I don't laugh about it, I am going to start pouting and park myself on the yoga ball in my closet and pout until things go my way.
The other event of the weekend was Banana Boy's science fair project. He did not tell me that he had this HUGE project to do until a week ago. Part of the project entailed conducting an experiment. We had very little time so we needed a quick experiment.
I told him about my vinegar egg experiment that I did in chemistry and mentioned the word "osmosis". Right then and there I knew I had gone over his head. He liked the egg idea. I googled the experiment and found a very cool way to tie the experiment into something he could relate to...or should relate to: How cavities are formed.
He liked the idea. However, for the ADHD child, the long-haul big-picture process is a bit daunting and very overwhelming. Not to mention he struggles with procrastination. I did not realize either that he was doing no research or work on this in school. It was to be done completely at home. So, we spent President's day scrambling to get everything done for his tri-fold poster. I did get his marginal participation in the experiment. I took pictures over the weekend and got him into the pictures as often as I could. We talked about the experiment as much as I could get his attention.
But in the end, I was the one who was up to 10pm putting the last finishing touches on his poster and gluing things down. His siblings think it is very cool. I hope we got everything he needed. I hope I did enough teaching and talking with him about cavities and the connection to the calcium in the egg shell and the chicken bones that we soaked in vinegar.
I am anxious to hear about it when he gets home from school. I also want to know what kind of grade I will get in science. :)
Oh No You Don't.
I continue to get ready. The clock is ticking and I am not ready, only half-dressed and half-way done with my hair.
Princess, you need to get dressed.
"I don't know what to wear."
You have at least 5 brand new, cute tops to wear. Pick one. I don't even care if you wear jeans because you don't have many skirts. But you have to put something on.
More sighs.
You are 12 years old. And way too old to have your Mommy pick out your clothes. You have until I have my hair done and am dressed to get yourself ready. That is about 10 minutes.
When I finished getting ready, I found her sitting on the yoga ball in our closet, pouting.
Are you dressed?
"Yes."
Then what are you doing in the closet?
"Just sitting here."
I am trying to laugh about this even though at the time I was incredibly frustrated. If I don't laugh about it, I am going to start pouting and park myself on the yoga ball in my closet and pout until things go my way.
The other event of the weekend was Banana Boy's science fair project. He did not tell me that he had this HUGE project to do until a week ago. Part of the project entailed conducting an experiment. We had very little time so we needed a quick experiment.
I told him about my vinegar egg experiment that I did in chemistry and mentioned the word "osmosis". Right then and there I knew I had gone over his head. He liked the egg idea. I googled the experiment and found a very cool way to tie the experiment into something he could relate to...or should relate to: How cavities are formed.
He liked the idea. However, for the ADHD child, the long-haul big-picture process is a bit daunting and very overwhelming. Not to mention he struggles with procrastination. I did not realize either that he was doing no research or work on this in school. It was to be done completely at home. So, we spent President's day scrambling to get everything done for his tri-fold poster. I did get his marginal participation in the experiment. I took pictures over the weekend and got him into the pictures as often as I could. We talked about the experiment as much as I could get his attention.
But in the end, I was the one who was up to 10pm putting the last finishing touches on his poster and gluing things down. His siblings think it is very cool. I hope we got everything he needed. I hope I did enough teaching and talking with him about cavities and the connection to the calcium in the egg shell and the chicken bones that we soaked in vinegar.
I am anxious to hear about it when he gets home from school. I also want to know what kind of grade I will get in science. :)
Sunday, February 15, 2009
Simplify
A couple of weeks ago, I reached my breaking point in regards to the amount of dishes I currently have in circulation. It's way, way, way too many. The realization hit me when I ran an entire load in the dishwasher of just cups and glasses.
At that point, the gloves came off and I decided something HAD to be done. It's ridiculous to use that many cups. I am sure that my children take a few sips out of a glass and set it down, generally in a location that is not Mom-Approved (i.e. the living room end table or Gasp! the living room floor where it will be kicked over). I have also decided that water and milk are perfectly acceptable beverages and I will no longer purchase, with exception to special occasions, Crystal lite or other drink mixes. If you move my love seat, you will find a large blue stain that is a blinding reminder of why I will not ever, EVER buy grape drink mixes, no matter how tasty.
I have friends that have trained their 6 children to use only one cup. Each child has their own unique colored camping cup. I thought this was an absolutely brilliant idea. I just never went so far as to implement it. I did poke around at various stores looking for different colored tin cups. But after the Dishwasher Full Of Cups Incident, I got down to business. I found blue tin cups at a store and decided to also purchase paint markers and my kids could decorate their cup and make them unique. They liked the idea and then I also explained that this would be the only cup they were to use.
It's been a slow transition but they are getting used to it. When they ask for a cup, I tell them to look for theirs. It works for the most part but when they can't find it, they resort to pulling cups out of the cupboard. I knew I needed to do something about that temptation and I had plans but then I got hit Wham Bam with only a week between with both a stomach virus and then the entire family got the flu. This pretty much sapped all my energy and time for a solid month.
On the day I bought the tin cups, I also decided I would cut down on the number of dishes we use as well. So, I bought clear salad plates and had the kids decorate them from underneath. The paint doesn't last forever but I figure they may like being able to redecorate their plate again with something different or seasonally. I will admit that this idea is not unique. I read it in a magazine. I can't remember which one, in order to give credit where it is due.
This weekend I finally have energy back and an extra day off. So, I went on the attack. With 4 children in school, the amount of paper that comes home every week is substantial and even daunting. I don't know how many things I have lost because I didn't have a good system in place.
Again, my friend with the 6 children, now 7 children, came to my rescue with the idea of using file folders for each day of the week and then each month of the year. I added to it by creating a folder for each family member. I also took my cubbie station by my front door and moved it to my kitchen. I have always intended for the kids to put their backpacks and other items in their cubbies but since we always seem to come in through the garage, the backpacks keep landing in the kitchen. I can't believe it took so long for me to figure out that I should move the cubbies.
Since I was on a roll, I reorganized my kitchen cabinets and moved out the extra dishes and cups. Now there are only the 5 tin cups and then a set of 6 plastic cups, 5 plates and 5 bowls. Less to keep track of, less to clean. Simple. Organization in my kitchen that makes sense.
I have other areas in my home that need to be organized. I have decided that I will focus on one area per week and then continue to maintain the areas I have already done. I think this is the key to caring for a big family by myself.
One more thing I did that seems to work very well: instead of dragging all of the food to the table and trying to serve 4 children at the table, I decided to leave the food in the kitchen and serve from the stove. So, the children come to the kitchen, take their plate of dinner out to the table. It has cut down on a lot of back and forth traffic of pots and pans which always annoys me. Again, it is just one more thing that seems to make my life a little simpler and less stressful.
At that point, the gloves came off and I decided something HAD to be done. It's ridiculous to use that many cups. I am sure that my children take a few sips out of a glass and set it down, generally in a location that is not Mom-Approved (i.e. the living room end table or Gasp! the living room floor where it will be kicked over). I have also decided that water and milk are perfectly acceptable beverages and I will no longer purchase, with exception to special occasions, Crystal lite or other drink mixes. If you move my love seat, you will find a large blue stain that is a blinding reminder of why I will not ever, EVER buy grape drink mixes, no matter how tasty.
I have friends that have trained their 6 children to use only one cup. Each child has their own unique colored camping cup. I thought this was an absolutely brilliant idea. I just never went so far as to implement it. I did poke around at various stores looking for different colored tin cups. But after the Dishwasher Full Of Cups Incident, I got down to business. I found blue tin cups at a store and decided to also purchase paint markers and my kids could decorate their cup and make them unique. They liked the idea and then I also explained that this would be the only cup they were to use.
It's been a slow transition but they are getting used to it. When they ask for a cup, I tell them to look for theirs. It works for the most part but when they can't find it, they resort to pulling cups out of the cupboard. I knew I needed to do something about that temptation and I had plans but then I got hit Wham Bam with only a week between with both a stomach virus and then the entire family got the flu. This pretty much sapped all my energy and time for a solid month.
On the day I bought the tin cups, I also decided I would cut down on the number of dishes we use as well. So, I bought clear salad plates and had the kids decorate them from underneath. The paint doesn't last forever but I figure they may like being able to redecorate their plate again with something different or seasonally. I will admit that this idea is not unique. I read it in a magazine. I can't remember which one, in order to give credit where it is due.
This weekend I finally have energy back and an extra day off. So, I went on the attack. With 4 children in school, the amount of paper that comes home every week is substantial and even daunting. I don't know how many things I have lost because I didn't have a good system in place.
Again, my friend with the 6 children, now 7 children, came to my rescue with the idea of using file folders for each day of the week and then each month of the year. I added to it by creating a folder for each family member. I also took my cubbie station by my front door and moved it to my kitchen. I have always intended for the kids to put their backpacks and other items in their cubbies but since we always seem to come in through the garage, the backpacks keep landing in the kitchen. I can't believe it took so long for me to figure out that I should move the cubbies.
Since I was on a roll, I reorganized my kitchen cabinets and moved out the extra dishes and cups. Now there are only the 5 tin cups and then a set of 6 plastic cups, 5 plates and 5 bowls. Less to keep track of, less to clean. Simple. Organization in my kitchen that makes sense.
I have other areas in my home that need to be organized. I have decided that I will focus on one area per week and then continue to maintain the areas I have already done. I think this is the key to caring for a big family by myself.
One more thing I did that seems to work very well: instead of dragging all of the food to the table and trying to serve 4 children at the table, I decided to leave the food in the kitchen and serve from the stove. So, the children come to the kitchen, take their plate of dinner out to the table. It has cut down on a lot of back and forth traffic of pots and pans which always annoys me. Again, it is just one more thing that seems to make my life a little simpler and less stressful.
Tuesday, February 10, 2009
Consequences
Tough lesson for Princess today. She is getting a 2nd tardy at school. I do feel a little bit guilty about it. However, at the same time I have realized that I have to push her more to do things herself and take some responsibility. I can’t save her from everything. The tears in her eyes and the quiet stillness in the car told me that she gets it. At least I hope she does.
The mornings are tough. I am trying to draw a line in the proverbial sand. 6am to 6:45 am is Mom Time. I do not want to do anything for anyone else but myself. I need to shower, get dressed and do all the things I need to do in order to get ready for my day, without interruption. The boys are sleeping and thus, they do not interrupt. However, my daughter needs to get up during this time as well and get herself ready for school. She has set her alarm to go off but it goes off to music and she continues to sleep through it.
So I find myself having to wake her up. And she does not wake up easily or quickly. And now Mom Time gets shortened because I have to spend precious minutes in between or during my personal time waking her up. This morning was no different, I grabbed my bathrobe and gave her a couple of shakes. She rolled over. I got in the shower, dried off, moussed my hair and then I shook her again, calling her name. She stirred slightly. I kept trying while I brushed my teeth.
Then I started to get panicky because it is close to 6:45 and I was no where near ready. My hair was not dry. My make-up was not on and I was not dressed and she was still not up. I had to get more forceful. My voice got louder and after several minutes, she finally sat up in bed. I took myself down, in my bathrobe, to the kitchen and put together her lunch and started the lunches for the boys. It’s 7:00 and she was meandering down the stairs, telling me there was not enough time to get to the bus. She still had to put her shoes on, get her back pack, put her lunch in it, put on her coat. By the time she finally started moving toward the door, it was 7:08 and she told me that she would probably miss the bus.
I sensed that she wanted to just give up. But there is a lesson that is important and I wanted her to get it. So, I told her to go. If she missed the bus, then she could come back but she needed to hurry.
A few minutes went by, I was in the middle of drying my hair. I still had 3 boys to wake up and dress. She came back. She missed the bus. I told her that she would have to write that down when she signs in at school.
The next several minutes were very frustrating for me because now, in order to get her to school before 8 am, I had to get every one up and out the door in less than 10 minutes. The boys were still sound asleep. At 7:45, I finally had everyone up and somewhat awake and Princess decided at that very moment that she wanted to fill up her water bottle.
I completely lost my cool. This just pushed me over the edge. It was not pretty. I dropped the boys off and she got an earful as we drove over to school. She tried to tell me that she didn’t know we were leaving then.
Excuse me?
I was telling everyone to get their shoes on and grab their coats and HEAD OUT THE DOOR and you didn’t know we were leaving? You did not look at the clock and note that the time was now 7:50 am…and school starts at WHAT TIME? 8 am? It takes 15 minutes to get you to school…? You could not put that together? You could not fill this all important water bottle in the 30 minutes you had from the time you came home to say you missed the bus to the time I started telling YOU specifically to get YOUR stuff and GET INTO the car??
Silence.
Ohhh, girlfriend…don’t give Momma silence. Huh uh…
Then she says, audaciously, “If I say I missed the bus, I need a note or a phone call or it will be unexcused.”
Oh Daughter….oh, oh, oh Daughter…
Do you think this is an excused tardy? Do you think I should excuse you when I spent the better part of 30 minutes trying to wake you up and get you out the door and then you spent 5 minutes telling me how you didn’t have enough time to get to the bus while you drag your feet and can’t hurry because your backpack is too heavy? Exactly who’s responsibility is this? Who is doing you a favor in getting you to school at all today?
What do you think? You can answer me. Is this an excused tardy?
“No.”
What are the consequences of unexcused tardies?
How many unexcused tardies do you have to get before you get detention?
“Three.”
How many do you have?
The mornings are tough. I am trying to draw a line in the proverbial sand. 6am to 6:45 am is Mom Time. I do not want to do anything for anyone else but myself. I need to shower, get dressed and do all the things I need to do in order to get ready for my day, without interruption. The boys are sleeping and thus, they do not interrupt. However, my daughter needs to get up during this time as well and get herself ready for school. She has set her alarm to go off but it goes off to music and she continues to sleep through it.
So I find myself having to wake her up. And she does not wake up easily or quickly. And now Mom Time gets shortened because I have to spend precious minutes in between or during my personal time waking her up. This morning was no different, I grabbed my bathrobe and gave her a couple of shakes. She rolled over. I got in the shower, dried off, moussed my hair and then I shook her again, calling her name. She stirred slightly. I kept trying while I brushed my teeth.
Then I started to get panicky because it is close to 6:45 and I was no where near ready. My hair was not dry. My make-up was not on and I was not dressed and she was still not up. I had to get more forceful. My voice got louder and after several minutes, she finally sat up in bed. I took myself down, in my bathrobe, to the kitchen and put together her lunch and started the lunches for the boys. It’s 7:00 and she was meandering down the stairs, telling me there was not enough time to get to the bus. She still had to put her shoes on, get her back pack, put her lunch in it, put on her coat. By the time she finally started moving toward the door, it was 7:08 and she told me that she would probably miss the bus.
I sensed that she wanted to just give up. But there is a lesson that is important and I wanted her to get it. So, I told her to go. If she missed the bus, then she could come back but she needed to hurry.
A few minutes went by, I was in the middle of drying my hair. I still had 3 boys to wake up and dress. She came back. She missed the bus. I told her that she would have to write that down when she signs in at school.
The next several minutes were very frustrating for me because now, in order to get her to school before 8 am, I had to get every one up and out the door in less than 10 minutes. The boys were still sound asleep. At 7:45, I finally had everyone up and somewhat awake and Princess decided at that very moment that she wanted to fill up her water bottle.
I completely lost my cool. This just pushed me over the edge. It was not pretty. I dropped the boys off and she got an earful as we drove over to school. She tried to tell me that she didn’t know we were leaving then.
Excuse me?
I was telling everyone to get their shoes on and grab their coats and HEAD OUT THE DOOR and you didn’t know we were leaving? You did not look at the clock and note that the time was now 7:50 am…and school starts at WHAT TIME? 8 am? It takes 15 minutes to get you to school…? You could not put that together? You could not fill this all important water bottle in the 30 minutes you had from the time you came home to say you missed the bus to the time I started telling YOU specifically to get YOUR stuff and GET INTO the car??
Silence.
Ohhh, girlfriend…don’t give Momma silence. Huh uh…
Then she says, audaciously, “If I say I missed the bus, I need a note or a phone call or it will be unexcused.”
Oh Daughter….oh, oh, oh Daughter…
Do you think this is an excused tardy? Do you think I should excuse you when I spent the better part of 30 minutes trying to wake you up and get you out the door and then you spent 5 minutes telling me how you didn’t have enough time to get to the bus while you drag your feet and can’t hurry because your backpack is too heavy? Exactly who’s responsibility is this? Who is doing you a favor in getting you to school at all today?
What do you think? You can answer me. Is this an excused tardy?
“No.”
What are the consequences of unexcused tardies?
How many unexcused tardies do you have to get before you get detention?
“Three.”
How many do you have?
“One.”
Including today?
“Two.”
Then you are on thin ice, aren’t you? You have a problem to fix. I will help you. We have a different alarm clock that no one is using. We will move that upstairs and you will set it for 6 am.
She was silent and turned away from me but I could see tears in her eyes. Something was getting through. Her face was soft, so she was not angry. She was chastened. This is good.
Consequences are not comfortable, daughter. But it is how we learn.
Saturday, February 7, 2009
Bonding
Thankfully, it appears that we are going to live after all. I said this to Princess and she burst into giggles. I take it as a good sign that we are getting better. Laughter has returned.
Not without a price however. It seems the residuals of the flu for each of us is a lingering cough. And laughing seems to trigger coughing fits. For me, this then causes pain under my ribs, around my diaphram and my intercostal muscles (those muscles between the ribs that move the ribcage out and in during breathing).
BB sent me into a coughing/laughing fit. I announced to the kids that I was making pancakes for dinner. BB croaked, "That sounds good." Something about the way his voice cracked and sounded so hoarse sounded so funny and I began to laugh and then the coughing started. As I laughed and coughed myself into a blue, oxygen deprived state, BB began laughing and coughing at the same time. Everytime we tried to talk, we laughed and coughed more. It lasted about 5 or 6 minutes. When I finally caught my breath, BB said, "Mom, we're bonding, aren't we?"
In sickness and in health, baby!
Not without a price however. It seems the residuals of the flu for each of us is a lingering cough. And laughing seems to trigger coughing fits. For me, this then causes pain under my ribs, around my diaphram and my intercostal muscles (those muscles between the ribs that move the ribcage out and in during breathing).
BB sent me into a coughing/laughing fit. I announced to the kids that I was making pancakes for dinner. BB croaked, "That sounds good." Something about the way his voice cracked and sounded so hoarse sounded so funny and I began to laugh and then the coughing started. As I laughed and coughed myself into a blue, oxygen deprived state, BB began laughing and coughing at the same time. Everytime we tried to talk, we laughed and coughed more. It lasted about 5 or 6 minutes. When I finally caught my breath, BB said, "Mom, we're bonding, aren't we?"
In sickness and in health, baby!
Friday, February 6, 2009
Sequestered
The Flu has hit my family this week. Hard. No one is unscathed or untouched. I do think that since I had a flu shot, perhaps my bout is slightly, but only by the barest amount, less severe than my children. Princess and Peanut have been home from school since Monday. BB and PH were struck down by Wednesday. By Wednesday night, I too had a fever and chills and could not get warm enough. So, on Thursday, all 5 of us were crashed out in the living room.
I had to do some rearranging of bodies so that we could all fit. Me, being Mom and also the tallest, needed the couch. So, I moved BB, who was more fevered than his sister who had been home for 3 days, to the loveseat. I moved Princess to the chair with the footstool. PH got his fuzzy chair and had to share the footstool with Princess. Peanut could either share the little triangular space between my bent legs and the back of the couch or take a spot on the floor.
I tucked everyone in with their pillows, blankets, a water bottle and turned on Cartoon Network. It struck me that we looked like a very colorful, fuzzy M.A.S.H. unit. However, I doubt that in the Korean War they had the soft polar fleece blankets with cutesy snowmen nor were they entertained by Spongebob Squarepants and Scooby Doo.
And my medical unit was missing something. There was no one well enough to take care of us. I realized this as I heard the hoarse crying of Peanut from upstairs. I tried to ignore him because I was finally comfortable and enjoying a slightly delirious but pleasant dream. The crying continued and Princess then, in her own hoarse voice, “Mom, Peanut needs you.”
I stumbled off the couch, grabbing the walls and trying to steady myself as I went up the stairs. I figured he would tell me that he was out of toilet paper or some other silly non-critical issue that I could be mad about.
I was wrong.
Poor Peanut had tried to get himself to the toilet but the downstairs one was occupied so he psyched himself up to go upstairs even though “It’s scary.” But apparently, he did not succeed in getting his pants down in time. As I walked to the bathroom, he calls out, “Mommy, you need to clean up the floor.”
There is really very little that can make me gag. I have a strong stomach on most good days. Today was not a good day. I won’t be gross but it was not pleasant and I wound up putting my son into the tub and having to clean the floor, a rug, a towel, his pants and underwear and a washcloth by the time it was all said and done. And then I collapsed on my bed.
I had kind of hoped that Peanut would be able to go to school on Friday. However, he came to me with the thermometer in his hand and even as I touched his hand to take the thermometer, I knew he had a fever again. His eyes looked glassy again. I took his temp and it was 102.4. Looks like he will be home again. At least while they are all this sick, they don’t cause any trouble. They don’t fight with each other and they don’t argue with me. In that way, it’s kind of nice.
BB made me laugh when I felt his forehead and estimated his temp to be around 102.5 and I suggested to him that he take some Ibuprofen to lower his fever and make him more comfortable. He said, “Mom, I don’t want to do drugs.”
How am I to argue with that?
I did tell him that it was up to him but this was medicine, which is not the same as “drugs” and it would be for the purpose of helping him feel better. He still insisted that he would be OK. I’m not going to push him on it. He can make that decision. However, I have decided that if he starts to get delirious or his temp gets over 103, he gets medicine.
I hope that we all start feeling better soon. I think I am recovering. I have no fever. My rib muscles ache from coughing and I am tired. However, I felt just enough energy to do the dishes that I had neglected for several days and this morning, I picked up garbage around the living room. I may even vacuum. I think I should also wash everyone’s sheets, pillow cases and blankets when they start feeling better. The fact that I am thinking about these things implies a degree of improving health. Whether they get done in the near future is another story.
I had to do some rearranging of bodies so that we could all fit. Me, being Mom and also the tallest, needed the couch. So, I moved BB, who was more fevered than his sister who had been home for 3 days, to the loveseat. I moved Princess to the chair with the footstool. PH got his fuzzy chair and had to share the footstool with Princess. Peanut could either share the little triangular space between my bent legs and the back of the couch or take a spot on the floor.
I tucked everyone in with their pillows, blankets, a water bottle and turned on Cartoon Network. It struck me that we looked like a very colorful, fuzzy M.A.S.H. unit. However, I doubt that in the Korean War they had the soft polar fleece blankets with cutesy snowmen nor were they entertained by Spongebob Squarepants and Scooby Doo.
And my medical unit was missing something. There was no one well enough to take care of us. I realized this as I heard the hoarse crying of Peanut from upstairs. I tried to ignore him because I was finally comfortable and enjoying a slightly delirious but pleasant dream. The crying continued and Princess then, in her own hoarse voice, “Mom, Peanut needs you.”
I stumbled off the couch, grabbing the walls and trying to steady myself as I went up the stairs. I figured he would tell me that he was out of toilet paper or some other silly non-critical issue that I could be mad about.
I was wrong.
Poor Peanut had tried to get himself to the toilet but the downstairs one was occupied so he psyched himself up to go upstairs even though “It’s scary.” But apparently, he did not succeed in getting his pants down in time. As I walked to the bathroom, he calls out, “Mommy, you need to clean up the floor.”
There is really very little that can make me gag. I have a strong stomach on most good days. Today was not a good day. I won’t be gross but it was not pleasant and I wound up putting my son into the tub and having to clean the floor, a rug, a towel, his pants and underwear and a washcloth by the time it was all said and done. And then I collapsed on my bed.
I had kind of hoped that Peanut would be able to go to school on Friday. However, he came to me with the thermometer in his hand and even as I touched his hand to take the thermometer, I knew he had a fever again. His eyes looked glassy again. I took his temp and it was 102.4. Looks like he will be home again. At least while they are all this sick, they don’t cause any trouble. They don’t fight with each other and they don’t argue with me. In that way, it’s kind of nice.
BB made me laugh when I felt his forehead and estimated his temp to be around 102.5 and I suggested to him that he take some Ibuprofen to lower his fever and make him more comfortable. He said, “Mom, I don’t want to do drugs.”
How am I to argue with that?
I did tell him that it was up to him but this was medicine, which is not the same as “drugs” and it would be for the purpose of helping him feel better. He still insisted that he would be OK. I’m not going to push him on it. He can make that decision. However, I have decided that if he starts to get delirious or his temp gets over 103, he gets medicine.
I hope that we all start feeling better soon. I think I am recovering. I have no fever. My rib muscles ache from coughing and I am tired. However, I felt just enough energy to do the dishes that I had neglected for several days and this morning, I picked up garbage around the living room. I may even vacuum. I think I should also wash everyone’s sheets, pillow cases and blankets when they start feeling better. The fact that I am thinking about these things implies a degree of improving health. Whether they get done in the near future is another story.
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