We are currently a cable free but fully digital TV family. My kids did lament that we do not have any cartoon channels. I, however, am not lamenting. I am happy to save money on cable and I also realized that there were really only a handfull of channels that I watch on a regular basis, so why pay for all those other ones that I don't watch. It does not make sense. And my kids will learn to live without Nickelodeon and Cartoon Network.
PH's health is greatly improved. His personality has returned. I knew he had turned a corner when he started getting into trouble and being naughty again. I did not miss that so much but I had missed the other facets of him like his energy, infectious and musical laughter and funny jokes. He has another doctor appointment this week, so I am curious to see how much more weight he has gained since the last one.
BB has made me quite proud with his improvements too. He has a big project he is working on. He had to pick one state to research and had all sorts of things to do around that state. I was floored when he told me that he wanted to get his "State Float" done early. This is so unusual for him. He is usually pushing the limits and deadlines. It would not be unheard of for him to tell me that something huge is due in two days and then we are scrambling to get it done. It really was HUGE for him to want to get it done early and then he did the work himself with the exception of some creative input from me.
Peanut is sounding out words and is on the verge of reading. He is doing it so much that BB told him, "Stop sounding things out!" I, on the other hand, am enjoying listening to him sound out, "kuh kuh kuh- ihhh ihhh ihhh-du du...KID!!"
Princess is feeling the stress of much homework, impending deadlines and pre-teen angst of having too many younger brothers. She is tired and a little crabby these days. Tonight, she sat in the kitchen, staring at the door of the fridge, unable to get started on anything because it was all too much. And then she continued to grow agitated the PH and Peanut kept running in and out of the house, breaking her concentration.
The fun never ends. I'm anxious for school to be out. We all need a break.
Tuesday, April 28, 2009
Friday, April 24, 2009
Playstation Predicament Continuing Saga
I got a call from my oldest son yesterday. He informed me that the Playstation was now working but the TV was not. And according to him, he had tried everything. And then his voice became completely unintelligible because he could not possibly wait the hour or so until I was going to get home.
He was right. The TV does not work. I don't know what happened to it. Electronics baffle me. I can use them but I don't program them, take them apart to understand the inner workings or anything else. And quite frankly, I don't care to. There are other people in this world who like that sort of thing and I am perfectly content to find them.
I moved the upstairs TV back down and all evening the kids said, "I am just not used to the mini-TV." It's a 20". How is that mini? They are funny. I was sad to move that TV because I had become sort of accustomed to having a TV upstairs in my little corner where I have my computer and my scrapbooking stuff. So, I started planning that perhaps with potential birthday gifts coming up in the next month, I should look at replacing it.
However, today, my youngest sister reminded me that my parents recently got a new TV and now had an extra one that they were no longer using and that perhaps this would be a good one to use for the video games and to watch movies on. Absolutely brilliant! I called my Dad to see if they still had it, and if so, could I take it off their hands? The answers to both questions was Yes!!
And I can continue my pattern of staying behind the crowd, waving at the technology bandwagon as it goes by, catching on to things much later when the kinks and bugs are worked out and the prices come down. I'm not a bleeding-edge kind of gal.
He was right. The TV does not work. I don't know what happened to it. Electronics baffle me. I can use them but I don't program them, take them apart to understand the inner workings or anything else. And quite frankly, I don't care to. There are other people in this world who like that sort of thing and I am perfectly content to find them.
I moved the upstairs TV back down and all evening the kids said, "I am just not used to the mini-TV." It's a 20". How is that mini? They are funny. I was sad to move that TV because I had become sort of accustomed to having a TV upstairs in my little corner where I have my computer and my scrapbooking stuff. So, I started planning that perhaps with potential birthday gifts coming up in the next month, I should look at replacing it.
However, today, my youngest sister reminded me that my parents recently got a new TV and now had an extra one that they were no longer using and that perhaps this would be a good one to use for the video games and to watch movies on. Absolutely brilliant! I called my Dad to see if they still had it, and if so, could I take it off their hands? The answers to both questions was Yes!!
And I can continue my pattern of staying behind the crowd, waving at the technology bandwagon as it goes by, catching on to things much later when the kinks and bugs are worked out and the prices come down. I'm not a bleeding-edge kind of gal.
Thursday, April 23, 2009
The Plight of the Pitiful Playstation
It was bound to happen sooner or later. I warned them. I scolded even.
Do not bring beverage cups into the living room.
Do not set cups of liquid on the floor.
Keep the Playstation off the floor.
Keep your video games in their cases.
And repeat. Repeat. Repeat. ad nauseum.
This week it did.
I was upstairs when I heard a roar followed by a yell. Then weeping and gnashing of teeth. And then BB screamed, "Peanut, I will NEVER speak to you EVER again."
A certain boy, the smallest of the 3, knocked over the forbidden cup of water, splashing it into the very end of the playstation that would be the worst end to get water splashed into. And now the PS2 no longer works. The eldest two boys have tried every day, to see if the electronics have dried out and function will return to their machine.
BB declared, "Well, if it does not work by Friday, then it will never work again." He said it with such conviction, as if he has had previous experience.
Yesterday, he said, "Mom, I am reading here in the Playstation manual that the PS2 should NEVER be submerged in water."
I have to chuckle silently in my head. They are having a hard time with this. I was afraid they would go into convulsions from their video game withdrawal. Instead, they adapted and have gone over to the babysitter's every afternoon to play on her Playstation until I get off work.
At least it is time limited.
This morning, PH said to me, "Mom, what are we going to do tonight when we have to go home from Jenny's and we are waiting for you to come home?"
Well, the weather is going to be gorgeous. You can play outside. Go to the park. Draw pictures. Play with your legos. Watch a movie on the upstairs DVD player.
I loved his answer, "I think that I will spend some time reading my Bible. I'm already on page 6."
How can I argue with that?
Do not bring beverage cups into the living room.
Do not set cups of liquid on the floor.
Keep the Playstation off the floor.
Keep your video games in their cases.
And repeat. Repeat. Repeat. ad nauseum.
This week it did.
I was upstairs when I heard a roar followed by a yell. Then weeping and gnashing of teeth. And then BB screamed, "Peanut, I will NEVER speak to you EVER again."
A certain boy, the smallest of the 3, knocked over the forbidden cup of water, splashing it into the very end of the playstation that would be the worst end to get water splashed into. And now the PS2 no longer works. The eldest two boys have tried every day, to see if the electronics have dried out and function will return to their machine.
BB declared, "Well, if it does not work by Friday, then it will never work again." He said it with such conviction, as if he has had previous experience.
Yesterday, he said, "Mom, I am reading here in the Playstation manual that the PS2 should NEVER be submerged in water."
I have to chuckle silently in my head. They are having a hard time with this. I was afraid they would go into convulsions from their video game withdrawal. Instead, they adapted and have gone over to the babysitter's every afternoon to play on her Playstation until I get off work.
At least it is time limited.
This morning, PH said to me, "Mom, what are we going to do tonight when we have to go home from Jenny's and we are waiting for you to come home?"
Well, the weather is going to be gorgeous. You can play outside. Go to the park. Draw pictures. Play with your legos. Watch a movie on the upstairs DVD player.
I loved his answer, "I think that I will spend some time reading my Bible. I'm already on page 6."
How can I argue with that?
Friday, April 17, 2009
All you ever say...
PH started saying this one day last week, "Mom, all you ever say to us is 'Pick up the living room'. "
Ha ha. Very funny.
Maybe it's a little true. I do seem to say it an awful lot lately. I think it is because this is becoming my Biggest Pet Peeve. Ever. If it was just a little untidiness, I could handle it. But it isn't. Daily, and I am not taking creative liberties of exaggeration here, I find wrappers, crusts of bread, icky cups of sour, curdled milk, lego's, blankets, pillows, Playstation 2 games and dirty socks strewn about. If these things are not strewn about, then they are shoved between the couch and love seat on top of my end table. It is enough to drive me completely out of my mind.
Wouldn't you think it would be easier to just carry your trash to the garbage can that is 3 feet away? Wouldn't it be easier to carry your dishes (which are NOT supposed to be in the living room anyway) into the kitchen rather than setting them where ever? Wouldn't you get tired of being scolded every day for the same thing?
I would be. But then, I am a girl. I don't like being scolded. I don't like voices being raised. When voices raise, I panic and start to cry and get very upset and I will do anything to make things right again. My daughter is the same way.
My boys are not. They are from a different planet. And apparently on that planet, it's perfectly OK to be pigs. Well, welcome to earth and more specifically Tulip's house...It's not OK to be pigs. And until they start picking up their messes all they will hear me say is "Pick up the living room...throw away your garbage...put your dishes in the sink...quit eating in the living room...take your dirty, stinky socks up to the laundry...and wash your hands...Flush the toilet..."
Get used to it.
Ha ha. Very funny.
Maybe it's a little true. I do seem to say it an awful lot lately. I think it is because this is becoming my Biggest Pet Peeve. Ever. If it was just a little untidiness, I could handle it. But it isn't. Daily, and I am not taking creative liberties of exaggeration here, I find wrappers, crusts of bread, icky cups of sour, curdled milk, lego's, blankets, pillows, Playstation 2 games and dirty socks strewn about. If these things are not strewn about, then they are shoved between the couch and love seat on top of my end table. It is enough to drive me completely out of my mind.
Wouldn't you think it would be easier to just carry your trash to the garbage can that is 3 feet away? Wouldn't it be easier to carry your dishes (which are NOT supposed to be in the living room anyway) into the kitchen rather than setting them where ever? Wouldn't you get tired of being scolded every day for the same thing?
I would be. But then, I am a girl. I don't like being scolded. I don't like voices being raised. When voices raise, I panic and start to cry and get very upset and I will do anything to make things right again. My daughter is the same way.
My boys are not. They are from a different planet. And apparently on that planet, it's perfectly OK to be pigs. Well, welcome to earth and more specifically Tulip's house...It's not OK to be pigs. And until they start picking up their messes all they will hear me say is "Pick up the living room...throw away your garbage...put your dishes in the sink...quit eating in the living room...take your dirty, stinky socks up to the laundry...and wash your hands...Flush the toilet..."
Get used to it.
Thursday, April 16, 2009
More Unsolved Mysteries
Why is there a ziplock bag of baby carrots in my freezer?
I did not place them there, nor would I do so. Peanut was "feeding" carrots to his new stuffed bunny "Checkers"...I suspect he wanted to try Carrot-pops.
Writing on the wall:
In the garage, one day the word "poop" appeared in 2 foot letters and yellow chalk. Another wall showcases the word "idiot". I'm sure that No One Knows who did it.
Someone drew a little cartoon scene on the wall just above the baseboards, behind the couch. That takes talent and serious ambition or a strong desire to NOT get caught.
I do know that BB wrote "I hate you" on the wall last fall when he was in one of his funks and really, mad at me. I figured it was some sort of progress from the day he wrote a note to Grandma and told her "I hat you". His spelling has improved.
Rubber lizards on my ceiling. I was finally able to change the lightbulb in my ceiling light at the peak of the vault and the critters were removed. However, I kind of miss them. There were up there for a year. I will console myself with the little rubber man that is stuck on the wall in my dining room.
I think it is sort of like fingerprints on windows... they are reminders that children live here but will soon grow up all too fast. For now, I am OK with these mysteries. One day, they will be painted over. But for now, they speak to me of childhood.
I did not place them there, nor would I do so. Peanut was "feeding" carrots to his new stuffed bunny "Checkers"...I suspect he wanted to try Carrot-pops.
Writing on the wall:
In the garage, one day the word "poop" appeared in 2 foot letters and yellow chalk. Another wall showcases the word "idiot". I'm sure that No One Knows who did it.
Someone drew a little cartoon scene on the wall just above the baseboards, behind the couch. That takes talent and serious ambition or a strong desire to NOT get caught.
I do know that BB wrote "I hate you" on the wall last fall when he was in one of his funks and really, mad at me. I figured it was some sort of progress from the day he wrote a note to Grandma and told her "I hat you". His spelling has improved.
Rubber lizards on my ceiling. I was finally able to change the lightbulb in my ceiling light at the peak of the vault and the critters were removed. However, I kind of miss them. There were up there for a year. I will console myself with the little rubber man that is stuck on the wall in my dining room.
I think it is sort of like fingerprints on windows... they are reminders that children live here but will soon grow up all too fast. For now, I am OK with these mysteries. One day, they will be painted over. But for now, they speak to me of childhood.
Monday, April 13, 2009
Blessings
I should never be surprised by miracles. My life has been full of miracles. Yet, somehow, when they come, I am always caught off guard and sit back stunned and think to myself, "The Lord did it again...He surprised me, He supplied my needs."
For example, I have a wedding I am attending in a few weeks. I don't have the money to buy a new dress but I have a lovely spring suit I bought a few years ago that I have only worn once or twice. The only thing I need is some sort of a blouse or camisole to go under the jacket, since I did tell one of my friends that I am not prepared to "showcase the girls". I'm far too modest. That is a good thing.
On Saturday, my mom was cleaning out her closet and showed a few things to me that I could have if they fit. I did find some satisfaction in the knowledge that things were too big for me. However, she did have one sleeveless, cream colored blouse that would go perfectly with my suit. And it fit. Now I don't need a blouse.
I am going through this Crown Financial class through my church and on Saturday is my weekly class. We do prayer requests every week and pray for each other through the week. Part of our preparation is to write out our prayer requests before we come. My brakes were just starting to make funny noises. I tried topping off the fluid but the noise was still present. So, I brought this up because I do not have the money to pay for the brakes.
Today, I am sitting outside a house where two men from my class are working on my van and fixing my brakes. One side of one brake was grinding shiny metal to metal.
I am so blessed.
For example, I have a wedding I am attending in a few weeks. I don't have the money to buy a new dress but I have a lovely spring suit I bought a few years ago that I have only worn once or twice. The only thing I need is some sort of a blouse or camisole to go under the jacket, since I did tell one of my friends that I am not prepared to "showcase the girls". I'm far too modest. That is a good thing.
On Saturday, my mom was cleaning out her closet and showed a few things to me that I could have if they fit. I did find some satisfaction in the knowledge that things were too big for me. However, she did have one sleeveless, cream colored blouse that would go perfectly with my suit. And it fit. Now I don't need a blouse.
I am going through this Crown Financial class through my church and on Saturday is my weekly class. We do prayer requests every week and pray for each other through the week. Part of our preparation is to write out our prayer requests before we come. My brakes were just starting to make funny noises. I tried topping off the fluid but the noise was still present. So, I brought this up because I do not have the money to pay for the brakes.
Today, I am sitting outside a house where two men from my class are working on my van and fixing my brakes. One side of one brake was grinding shiny metal to metal.
I am so blessed.
Sunday, April 12, 2009
Life with a Pre-teen...The Saga Begins
And so does the drama. Which, according to my family, drama is something my dear daughter comes by honestly. I try to huff and be offended but it's true. I was a teenage drama queen. I created my fair share of Angry scenes and Important Declarations about just how dorky and out of touch my family was and how they could not possibly know anything about how I was feeling...In. This. Very. Moment.
Now that I am a mother of a 12 year old, and a little more experienced with life, I know that my parents were not quite the dorks I thought they were, nor were they that unfamiliar with how things in my life were changing. I standing in that place myself. At this present moment, my kids think I'm pretty OK. But my daughter is listening to what I say and is telling me that I embarrass her. And I learned this weekend, I can also make her very hurt and angry.
The incident that sparked this particular revelation revolved around getting our bedroom clean. It was to the point where I could not tolerate the clutter and the creeping mess any longer. This was going to be taken care of this weekend. I told her of my plan on Friday night. I reminded her on Saturday morning and even gave her fair warning about when I was going to be ready to get started. I asked her to come up with me and I gave her a job to start with while I put some laundry away because I needed the laundry baskets...
She did that job and did it well. And then disappeared. I saw her and her brother playing in the woods. I worked on my area of the room. I put away all my clean clothes, cleaned out the junk that seems to infiltrate the crevices and open spaces under my bed, night stand and the edge of my dresser. I even pulled off my sheets and flipped my mattress.
After lunch, I told her she needed to come back up and help. She wandered up and again stayed for only a few minutes. I decided I would provide us some entertainment so I even found a way to turn the upstairs TV so that it would face our room. I went down to find her, and she had fallen asleep. Apparently, she had been a participant in the overnight video game party with her brothers after all. So, I let her sleep and determined that if she was not going to participate in this clean and purge event, that was to her loss. She had had an opportunity several weeks prior to clean up her mess, organize, set some precious things aside and all she did was shove things around. This was getting done today.
I worked hard. I pulled everything out from under her lofted bed and sorted and organized. I put some of the toys and items she never plays with anymore, but I dare not throw, and put them in the storage container. Anything that looked broken or like crumpled up trash, I tossed. I wound up with one huge lawn bag full of garbage and several smaller bags full. When it was all done, I was very pleased with how it looked. She can sit under her bed and pull books out of the little cubbies she has under there. You can see her pink fuzzy rug again.
I woke her up and she was not happy about that because she was still tired. But I did not want her sleeping the entire day away or she would have trouble sleeping at night. I told her to go and check out our room.
I proceeded to get dinner ready and get ready for a class I attend on Saturday nights. She was pouting about something one of her brothers did and I told her to leave the table until she could join us with a more appropriate attitude. She never came back down.
When I went upstairs to finish getting ready, she was in our room and I asked her what she thought. She yelled at me, "You threw away things I was saving. And I don't know what to do with this stuff YOU put on my bed."
Whoa, girl. Them's fightin' words.
For your information, daughter, I spent my entire day cleaning this room. I did not throw everything away. Some things are put up. I asked and asked you to come up and work with me but you kept disappearing and I was not going to wait for you. The fact of the matter is that I have been asking your for a long time to get this clutter under control and you have not. You have had fair warning that this would happen. And honestly, if I see your part of our room get like this again, I will do the same thing again. So, you need to learn to take better care of your stuff and put it away so that it is clear it is something sentimental but shoving papers under your bed and my bed is not showing me these are things you care about.
At this point, she quit looking at me and sat, stewing under her bed, ignoring me. Then she handed me a note, written in purple crayon:
"Dear Mom
How would you like it if someone came in and threw out your dreams and Ideas for when you want a good job and that person had nothing. no job No house and no life. Because every thing that I had built from scratch and that you threw away was my chance of life and you threw my life away -Princess"
Honestly, when she handed me the note, I had to fight off a giggle. She was very sincere and earnest. I felt awful in giggling. She was just so cute. And so dramatic.
I was bothered by her feeling so hurt. But at the same time, I also figured I was teaching her a tough lesson. I remember my own mom teaching me hard lessons too...especially about possessions and room cleaning. I don't think my mom ever went through and tossed things but I do remember a few Saturdays when she went through the room I shared with my sisters and pulled out everything we had been stuffing into crevices, corners and closets and threw it into the center of the room. Our job was to put everything away and we could not come out until we finished.
I do think that my parents would get rid of things we left out and did not put away. As I thought about it, I do not think I was unreasonable or out of line. I did need to deal with the hurt she was feeling about it. So maybe my method was harsher than I intended. She is a sensitive girl. My Mom told me today, when I described it to her, that it is not that what I did was wrong or out of line but perhaps that these were things she just did not want to let go of and was not mentally prepared to do so yet.
I also talked with my friend Elizabeth ( Thanks :-)!) and she suggested that I start a shared journal with Princess. Then she and I can continue to communicate privately and keep that door open. Plus she will have the journal for as long as she wants it. I think this is an excellent idea. I talked to Princess about it and she really liked the idea. So, I found a notebook that I had not started using. I decorated the cover and made it girly and we designated a special drawer for it.
I'm keeping the purple note too.
Now that I am a mother of a 12 year old, and a little more experienced with life, I know that my parents were not quite the dorks I thought they were, nor were they that unfamiliar with how things in my life were changing. I standing in that place myself. At this present moment, my kids think I'm pretty OK. But my daughter is listening to what I say and is telling me that I embarrass her. And I learned this weekend, I can also make her very hurt and angry.
The incident that sparked this particular revelation revolved around getting our bedroom clean. It was to the point where I could not tolerate the clutter and the creeping mess any longer. This was going to be taken care of this weekend. I told her of my plan on Friday night. I reminded her on Saturday morning and even gave her fair warning about when I was going to be ready to get started. I asked her to come up with me and I gave her a job to start with while I put some laundry away because I needed the laundry baskets...
She did that job and did it well. And then disappeared. I saw her and her brother playing in the woods. I worked on my area of the room. I put away all my clean clothes, cleaned out the junk that seems to infiltrate the crevices and open spaces under my bed, night stand and the edge of my dresser. I even pulled off my sheets and flipped my mattress.
After lunch, I told her she needed to come back up and help. She wandered up and again stayed for only a few minutes. I decided I would provide us some entertainment so I even found a way to turn the upstairs TV so that it would face our room. I went down to find her, and she had fallen asleep. Apparently, she had been a participant in the overnight video game party with her brothers after all. So, I let her sleep and determined that if she was not going to participate in this clean and purge event, that was to her loss. She had had an opportunity several weeks prior to clean up her mess, organize, set some precious things aside and all she did was shove things around. This was getting done today.
I worked hard. I pulled everything out from under her lofted bed and sorted and organized. I put some of the toys and items she never plays with anymore, but I dare not throw, and put them in the storage container. Anything that looked broken or like crumpled up trash, I tossed. I wound up with one huge lawn bag full of garbage and several smaller bags full. When it was all done, I was very pleased with how it looked. She can sit under her bed and pull books out of the little cubbies she has under there. You can see her pink fuzzy rug again.
I woke her up and she was not happy about that because she was still tired. But I did not want her sleeping the entire day away or she would have trouble sleeping at night. I told her to go and check out our room.
I proceeded to get dinner ready and get ready for a class I attend on Saturday nights. She was pouting about something one of her brothers did and I told her to leave the table until she could join us with a more appropriate attitude. She never came back down.
When I went upstairs to finish getting ready, she was in our room and I asked her what she thought. She yelled at me, "You threw away things I was saving. And I don't know what to do with this stuff YOU put on my bed."
Whoa, girl. Them's fightin' words.
For your information, daughter, I spent my entire day cleaning this room. I did not throw everything away. Some things are put up. I asked and asked you to come up and work with me but you kept disappearing and I was not going to wait for you. The fact of the matter is that I have been asking your for a long time to get this clutter under control and you have not. You have had fair warning that this would happen. And honestly, if I see your part of our room get like this again, I will do the same thing again. So, you need to learn to take better care of your stuff and put it away so that it is clear it is something sentimental but shoving papers under your bed and my bed is not showing me these are things you care about.
At this point, she quit looking at me and sat, stewing under her bed, ignoring me. Then she handed me a note, written in purple crayon:
"Dear Mom
How would you like it if someone came in and threw out your dreams and Ideas for when you want a good job and that person had nothing. no job No house and no life. Because every thing that I had built from scratch and that you threw away was my chance of life and you threw my life away -Princess"
Honestly, when she handed me the note, I had to fight off a giggle. She was very sincere and earnest. I felt awful in giggling. She was just so cute. And so dramatic.
I was bothered by her feeling so hurt. But at the same time, I also figured I was teaching her a tough lesson. I remember my own mom teaching me hard lessons too...especially about possessions and room cleaning. I don't think my mom ever went through and tossed things but I do remember a few Saturdays when she went through the room I shared with my sisters and pulled out everything we had been stuffing into crevices, corners and closets and threw it into the center of the room. Our job was to put everything away and we could not come out until we finished.
I do think that my parents would get rid of things we left out and did not put away. As I thought about it, I do not think I was unreasonable or out of line. I did need to deal with the hurt she was feeling about it. So maybe my method was harsher than I intended. She is a sensitive girl. My Mom told me today, when I described it to her, that it is not that what I did was wrong or out of line but perhaps that these were things she just did not want to let go of and was not mentally prepared to do so yet.
I also talked with my friend Elizabeth ( Thanks :-)!) and she suggested that I start a shared journal with Princess. Then she and I can continue to communicate privately and keep that door open. Plus she will have the journal for as long as she wants it. I think this is an excellent idea. I talked to Princess about it and she really liked the idea. So, I found a notebook that I had not started using. I decorated the cover and made it girly and we designated a special drawer for it.
I'm keeping the purple note too.
Monday, April 6, 2009
An interesting day at work
Once upon a time, I was an Art major. I was actually an elementary Art teacher for 2 years. When I had my student teaching experience in my senior year, it dawned on me that this was not really what I wanted to do for the rest of my life. However, I had one semester to go, so I finished. I taught for one year in a small school in Pine River, MN. And then I taught one year in St. Louis, Missouri. Vastly different experiences. But neither experience endeared me to teaching as a career. I learned I was pregnant at the end of the year in St. Louis and discussed the possibility of full time motherhood with my husband. We agreed that we would make it work. I finished my teaching career by teaching a 6 week session of summer school and had an absolute blast. I worked with a great principal who was very validating of everything I did. I worked with two small groups of children for 2 hours each per day. This enabled me to do some really fun projects. I felt like I ended my teaching career on a high note. I left that career behind and decided that art would now be for me.
God is funny. I also think that He is the ultimate recycler. Nothing is wasted. I sat with a client today and we discussed her most recent watercolor endeavor. She asked me to tell her what was wrong with her painting. I paused for a moment before I said anything because I worried about whether this was really therapeutic. But she and I have developed a relationship over the last 9 months or so and she really wanted to know. So, I did tell her a few things I saw and then I gave her a few ideas about how she could fix it. We had a good discussion about drawing and painting and she showed me the next drawing she wants to do.
This is a woman who has been severely battered and now has a severe TBI. She decided that she was going to learn to draw because she loves horses and she needs to prove to herself that she can learn something new again. She is pleased with herself and her progress with drawing. I admire her commitment and dedication to her craft. She has put hours of drawing in every day. And she keeps trying. Because of this desire to draw and get good, she has gotten herself out of the house and out to the library for drawing books. Her TBI affects her ability to process information so driving and new places are very overwhelming. She also decided that she needed drawing supplies so she took on a challenge of getting herself to Michael's. The first time she went, she wound up in Minneapolis but even that did not defeat her because she tried again and now she is not scared anymore.
This is therapy. And I hope that by working with me, she is finding support and encouragement for trying something new and out of her comfort zone. And I believe that God is taking a skill set that I have and showing me a new way to use it.
After that appointment, I had to drive out to a foster care provider. My co-workers have told me stories about this place...how there are lots of animals and "killer turkeys" wandering about and driveway that is treacherous on a good day, and practically impassable on bad days. I saw the turkeys but they stayed clear of me. What surprised me were the peacocks. I did not know people could keep peacocks as pets. They were beautiful.
Inside the house, I was greeted by 5 dogs. A couple were those little mini-greyhounds or Whippets and then a grey-hound and some other stocky dog. The greyhound wanted to be my buddy and escort me around the house. The stocky dog wanted to run me out of town. Apparently, there are also ferrets in the house but I did not see those.
I never know what the day is going to hold.
One question I hear repeatedly is "Aren't you scared to go and meet mentally ill people in the community?" The answer is "No". I have never been scared of a client. I have been in tense situations with client's who were very sick and needed to taken to the hospital. But I was never afraid. The people that I have been scared of were not clients.
I like this unknown factor about my job. I set my own schedule and make my own appointments but there is always the chance that things will change and something will come up. There are components in my work week that are predictable. Tuesday is Meeting Day. I always have a team meeting every Tuesday afternoon from 2:30 to 4:00pm. But there is also a monthly Unit meeting on the 2nd Tuesday of the month. A therapy consult meeting every other Tuesday at noon. And then a Prepetition/Committment meeting on the last Tuesday of the month. It gets really crazy when 3 of those fall on the same Tuesday. It's a lot of chair time and I have been known to doodle in order to keep myself alert and paying attention.
Some days, I am out on appointments most of the day. Some days, I am at my desk doing paperwork and researching things for presentations or co-worker's questions or to satisfy my own curiosity. And then some days, I just spin in my chair, counting down the hours til quitting time. I work too fast. I think that is my problem. It does not take me long to write my treatment plans or case notes. I am too efficient.
God is funny. I also think that He is the ultimate recycler. Nothing is wasted. I sat with a client today and we discussed her most recent watercolor endeavor. She asked me to tell her what was wrong with her painting. I paused for a moment before I said anything because I worried about whether this was really therapeutic. But she and I have developed a relationship over the last 9 months or so and she really wanted to know. So, I did tell her a few things I saw and then I gave her a few ideas about how she could fix it. We had a good discussion about drawing and painting and she showed me the next drawing she wants to do.
This is a woman who has been severely battered and now has a severe TBI. She decided that she was going to learn to draw because she loves horses and she needs to prove to herself that she can learn something new again. She is pleased with herself and her progress with drawing. I admire her commitment and dedication to her craft. She has put hours of drawing in every day. And she keeps trying. Because of this desire to draw and get good, she has gotten herself out of the house and out to the library for drawing books. Her TBI affects her ability to process information so driving and new places are very overwhelming. She also decided that she needed drawing supplies so she took on a challenge of getting herself to Michael's. The first time she went, she wound up in Minneapolis but even that did not defeat her because she tried again and now she is not scared anymore.
This is therapy. And I hope that by working with me, she is finding support and encouragement for trying something new and out of her comfort zone. And I believe that God is taking a skill set that I have and showing me a new way to use it.
After that appointment, I had to drive out to a foster care provider. My co-workers have told me stories about this place...how there are lots of animals and "killer turkeys" wandering about and driveway that is treacherous on a good day, and practically impassable on bad days. I saw the turkeys but they stayed clear of me. What surprised me were the peacocks. I did not know people could keep peacocks as pets. They were beautiful.
Inside the house, I was greeted by 5 dogs. A couple were those little mini-greyhounds or Whippets and then a grey-hound and some other stocky dog. The greyhound wanted to be my buddy and escort me around the house. The stocky dog wanted to run me out of town. Apparently, there are also ferrets in the house but I did not see those.
I never know what the day is going to hold.
One question I hear repeatedly is "Aren't you scared to go and meet mentally ill people in the community?" The answer is "No". I have never been scared of a client. I have been in tense situations with client's who were very sick and needed to taken to the hospital. But I was never afraid. The people that I have been scared of were not clients.
I like this unknown factor about my job. I set my own schedule and make my own appointments but there is always the chance that things will change and something will come up. There are components in my work week that are predictable. Tuesday is Meeting Day. I always have a team meeting every Tuesday afternoon from 2:30 to 4:00pm. But there is also a monthly Unit meeting on the 2nd Tuesday of the month. A therapy consult meeting every other Tuesday at noon. And then a Prepetition/Committment meeting on the last Tuesday of the month. It gets really crazy when 3 of those fall on the same Tuesday. It's a lot of chair time and I have been known to doodle in order to keep myself alert and paying attention.
Some days, I am out on appointments most of the day. Some days, I am at my desk doing paperwork and researching things for presentations or co-worker's questions or to satisfy my own curiosity. And then some days, I just spin in my chair, counting down the hours til quitting time. I work too fast. I think that is my problem. It does not take me long to write my treatment plans or case notes. I am too efficient.
Thursday, April 2, 2009
Stuff
I was reading another blog and got this idea. She asked what we women keep in our purses. I have a friend that I have joked with about the difference between men and women and our ability to carry various necessary items. I do believe that men are at a disadvantage. I sent him a picture of a model carrying a "man bag" but he told me he did not think he could "pull off the look". Perhaps in the age of laptop computers, men are going to gain some ground in this disparity, as my friend pointed out when he noted that "you can fit a lot of Happy Meal toys in a laptop bag".
I left my purse at work one day and really felt it's loss. It is like an extension of myself. I carry important items that would otherwise tumble around and get lost. But my shoulder is also used to it's weight and I am used to grabbing it when I head out the door. However, since I now have this laptop and big bag to take with me daily, I realized that it is easy for me to overlook my purse since the laptop bag is taking it's place on my shoulder.
So, I am going to let you in on the secret world of my purse. These are my "essentials". I need to have them with me every day. I may not always use them but they are in a way like having jumper cables in the trunk... you never know when you are going to need them. So, you must be prepared:
--wallet which includes my checkbook and various forms of plastic identification, stamp cards for free meals or hair cuts, insurance cards and car insurance.
--car keys when I am out but when I am home, my car keys have to hang on their hook or I will not know what to do!
--lip balm, several tubes
--an assortment of pens and pencils
--a small notebook
--my family calendar
--a pack of gum (if my kids have not found it)
--loose change is always floating free on the bottom
--paper clips too
--shopping lists
--reciepts
--bills I need to pay or mail
--stamps
--a couple extra envelopes
It's weird. When I read the other blog, I realized that the contents of my purse are not that unusual. The basics are usually the same. It just struck me funny that these items are things I carry with me every where, into every store, gas station, building and often bathrooms I go into even though I generally don't need any of those things in any of those locations.
Who knows, I may be in some isolated locale and be in need of a stamp, a paper clip and a quarter. In that case, I am ready. Like a female MacGuiver.
I left my purse at work one day and really felt it's loss. It is like an extension of myself. I carry important items that would otherwise tumble around and get lost. But my shoulder is also used to it's weight and I am used to grabbing it when I head out the door. However, since I now have this laptop and big bag to take with me daily, I realized that it is easy for me to overlook my purse since the laptop bag is taking it's place on my shoulder.
So, I am going to let you in on the secret world of my purse. These are my "essentials". I need to have them with me every day. I may not always use them but they are in a way like having jumper cables in the trunk... you never know when you are going to need them. So, you must be prepared:
--wallet which includes my checkbook and various forms of plastic identification, stamp cards for free meals or hair cuts, insurance cards and car insurance.
--car keys when I am out but when I am home, my car keys have to hang on their hook or I will not know what to do!
--lip balm, several tubes
--an assortment of pens and pencils
--a small notebook
--my family calendar
--a pack of gum (if my kids have not found it)
--loose change is always floating free on the bottom
--paper clips too
--shopping lists
--reciepts
--bills I need to pay or mail
--stamps
--a couple extra envelopes
It's weird. When I read the other blog, I realized that the contents of my purse are not that unusual. The basics are usually the same. It just struck me funny that these items are things I carry with me every where, into every store, gas station, building and often bathrooms I go into even though I generally don't need any of those things in any of those locations.
Who knows, I may be in some isolated locale and be in need of a stamp, a paper clip and a quarter. In that case, I am ready. Like a female MacGuiver.
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