That is what a friend of mine said to me the other day when I was lamenting over the sorry state of my existence. I'm not having a pity party. I really do have some crappy things happening to me right now. And it just keeps piling on. I feel like the dog being kicked under the table. (I should explain that she was NOT telling me to stop beating a dead horse...but rather commenting on how many difficult things keep happening this fall because in the span of 6 weeks, I have been hit on every front from finances to childrearing to legal issues surrounding a broken relationship...That is the dead horse!)
It's not fun. My ex-fiance is suing me. It's too complicated to explain. There is room to negotiate but I don't think there is much room. He pushed the numbers up just past "Small Claims" and moved this into the civil realm. And that stinks. It raises the stakes. And I have a choice to make.
I was crying earlier when I was feeling the gravity of my situation and the serious financial repercussions if this goes to trial. How should I, as a Christian, respond to being sued? Do I completely cave in and say "Fine. Take it all. Here you go." or do I fight? If I fight back, things could get really nasty and friends of mine would get pulled in to testify. My children could have to testify and it would be dirty. And nobody will walk away unscathed.
What can I live with? I will admit, I was stupid in accepting money from him in the first place and putting myself in this position of being indebted to him now that the relationship is over. But I do not believe that I am solely to blame. He has the advantage in that he appears to be the wronged party because a debt is owed to him. But he has a part to play and to own up to but I seriously doubt he will. Attacking him in court will not open his eyes to see his mistakes, so what is the point? Do I have to prove that I was in the right? No. I made some really dumb mistakes. I ignored the wise advice of my family and I overlooked my own gut and intuition. It's a painful lesson and it will cost me dearly. But it will be learned.
What I decided as I talked it out with the Lord is that I cannot play dirty. As much as I am hurting and am grieved that things got this out of hand, I cannot stoop to that level. Many things happened in that relationship that were unfair to me and to my children but I will not victimize my kids again by dragging them through court. I will take responsibility for what I feel is my part. I will contest the pieces that are not fair. And in the end, I will have to pay him money. But it is only money. It is not my soul. At the end of it, I will hold my head up high and know that I did the best thing and not the worst thing. And I will move on with my life.
And I will never make the mistakes I made again. Choose carefully who you date. Be wise in what you disclose to another person and when. I do not think financial issues should be brought in to a relationship until marriage is on the horizon. And I will not loan or borrow money from anyone I am dating. If I am asked for money, and I have it, I will give it freely with no strings attached. That is how I will sleep at night.
Thursday, October 23, 2008
Wednesday, October 22, 2008
Fall 2008 Lecture Series
It’s that time of year where my Parenting Lecture Series needs to be revised, improved or added unto. This is the first installment, and maybe the last at this time. I haven't decided yet.
Bathroom Etiquette
or “Why Boys Need to Consider the Needs of Girls”
The following is an excerpt from this lecture:
“I expect a few rules of etiquette and general “niceness” to be followed in regards to the use of the bathroom. First of all, the purpose of the bathroom needs to be mentioned. It is not a playground, although if you take a bath you may play in the water as long as you do not aggressively splash water all over the floor. And a bath is a solo activity in which your brother does not need to participate in and you may ask him, politely, to leave the room until you are finished. The sink and the mirror are for the purposes of cleanliness and good grooming, not for seeing how high you can spray Mom’s hairspray nor how full the sink can get before the water begins to splash out through that little hole at the top. Towels are for drying and should not be used as blankets for stuffed animals and washcloths need to be used for washing, not as pillows for the same stuffed animals. The same can be said for pillowcases, place mats and other items of interest in the linen closet.
Second, let’s discuss privacy. When you are using the bathroom, you need privacy and expect that others will acknowledge that a closed door is a strong indicator that the bathroom is indeed in use. If you don’t want to be bothered by others who need to wash their hands or brush their teeth or even create bubbles in the sink, then please close the door. This is particularly important in regards to the bathroom in the kitchen. Do I need to mention the use of the bathroom during a meal in which the bathroom door is left open and all of us at the table must endure the sounds coming from within, which are neither polite nor appetizing? The solution is simple: Close the door.
And if you see a door closed, consider the room occupied. Should you need to use this room, apply a gentle knock to the door as an inquiry. If there is no answer, then by all means proceed, but perhaps with caution in case your knock was a bit too gentle. If the occupant did not hear you and is surprised by your presence, please politely avert your eyes and apologize while backing up and exiting, pulling the door closed behind you. It would also be nice if you would wait patiently and not yell out, “Are you done yet?” Some activities cannot be hurried nor should the process be short-cutted for the sake of the impatience of those on the other side of the door. May I also remind you that we do have two bathrooms and that there are no “monsters” in the kitchen even if no one else is downstairs, so feel free to check the availability of both rooms before exercising your impatience.
Third, this part pertains mainly to the young gentlemen in the house who have the means to utilize the commode while standing. It is important to focus on the task at hand, and not be so hurried that you “miss”. Nor should you go off into a daydream in which you lose track of your target. This is also not a time for you to see how far away you can stand and “still make it in” because you will never contain all of it in doing so.
I also feel I need to mention again that it would be very nice if you would also lift the seat up first and put it back down when you are finished. The females in the house thank you for doing so and also get very upset when you don’t and they come across a cold, wet seat. And the thought of what they just sat upon gives them the “heebie jeebies”.
So, let me offer you a little instruction: stand close enough to the commode that your knees touch the bowl, focus upon the pool of water inside and aim for the hole at the bottom. If you do dribble, it’s OK but please wipe it up. Don’t forget to flush and wash your hands. Did you remember to put the seat back down?
A warning to the boys who forget these simple instructions, you will spend time cleaning the toilet and the area surrounding daily it until you begin to understand why this is so icky to clean when you are sloppy. And the reason the bathroom “always stinks” is because of your sloppiness or carelessness with your activity. A little more concentration and extra effort put in to the small details will make the cleanliness of the bathroom, as well as the aroma, much more pleasant for all the behold (And not to mention a Mom who will be very happy and less irritated).
Bathroom Etiquette
or “Why Boys Need to Consider the Needs of Girls”
The following is an excerpt from this lecture:
“I expect a few rules of etiquette and general “niceness” to be followed in regards to the use of the bathroom. First of all, the purpose of the bathroom needs to be mentioned. It is not a playground, although if you take a bath you may play in the water as long as you do not aggressively splash water all over the floor. And a bath is a solo activity in which your brother does not need to participate in and you may ask him, politely, to leave the room until you are finished. The sink and the mirror are for the purposes of cleanliness and good grooming, not for seeing how high you can spray Mom’s hairspray nor how full the sink can get before the water begins to splash out through that little hole at the top. Towels are for drying and should not be used as blankets for stuffed animals and washcloths need to be used for washing, not as pillows for the same stuffed animals. The same can be said for pillowcases, place mats and other items of interest in the linen closet.
Second, let’s discuss privacy. When you are using the bathroom, you need privacy and expect that others will acknowledge that a closed door is a strong indicator that the bathroom is indeed in use. If you don’t want to be bothered by others who need to wash their hands or brush their teeth or even create bubbles in the sink, then please close the door. This is particularly important in regards to the bathroom in the kitchen. Do I need to mention the use of the bathroom during a meal in which the bathroom door is left open and all of us at the table must endure the sounds coming from within, which are neither polite nor appetizing? The solution is simple: Close the door.
And if you see a door closed, consider the room occupied. Should you need to use this room, apply a gentle knock to the door as an inquiry. If there is no answer, then by all means proceed, but perhaps with caution in case your knock was a bit too gentle. If the occupant did not hear you and is surprised by your presence, please politely avert your eyes and apologize while backing up and exiting, pulling the door closed behind you. It would also be nice if you would wait patiently and not yell out, “Are you done yet?” Some activities cannot be hurried nor should the process be short-cutted for the sake of the impatience of those on the other side of the door. May I also remind you that we do have two bathrooms and that there are no “monsters” in the kitchen even if no one else is downstairs, so feel free to check the availability of both rooms before exercising your impatience.
Third, this part pertains mainly to the young gentlemen in the house who have the means to utilize the commode while standing. It is important to focus on the task at hand, and not be so hurried that you “miss”. Nor should you go off into a daydream in which you lose track of your target. This is also not a time for you to see how far away you can stand and “still make it in” because you will never contain all of it in doing so.
I also feel I need to mention again that it would be very nice if you would also lift the seat up first and put it back down when you are finished. The females in the house thank you for doing so and also get very upset when you don’t and they come across a cold, wet seat. And the thought of what they just sat upon gives them the “heebie jeebies”.
So, let me offer you a little instruction: stand close enough to the commode that your knees touch the bowl, focus upon the pool of water inside and aim for the hole at the bottom. If you do dribble, it’s OK but please wipe it up. Don’t forget to flush and wash your hands. Did you remember to put the seat back down?
A warning to the boys who forget these simple instructions, you will spend time cleaning the toilet and the area surrounding daily it until you begin to understand why this is so icky to clean when you are sloppy. And the reason the bathroom “always stinks” is because of your sloppiness or carelessness with your activity. A little more concentration and extra effort put in to the small details will make the cleanliness of the bathroom, as well as the aroma, much more pleasant for all the behold (And not to mention a Mom who will be very happy and less irritated).
Thursday, October 9, 2008
Homework, Headaches and Laundry Piled High...Oh My
It was just a few years ago when I was finishing up my nursing degree and I was swamped with papers, reading enormous books (we spent so much time with one of them, we nursing girls called the book our boyfriend Iggy) and driving all over the Metro for clinicals in the wee hours of the morning until way past the best part of the sunshine. I thought I was tired and stressed out then. It was also the fall that my oldest son was in the process of being diagnosed with ADHD and I was getting multiple phone calls a day from his teacher and the principal saying that BB was hiding under his desk, running off down the halls (requiring the principal, the secretary and possibly a custodian to locate him and return him to his classroom) and just causing a raucous in the classroom. It was also that fall that my youngest overdosed on 50-75 children's multivitamins and had to spend the night in Children's getting his blood drawn and a rapid flush IV and then I spent the next 6 weeks worried about bowel obstructions and liver damage.
For some reason, as busy as that time was, I feel more busy and more stressed right now keeping up with my children's homework. I kid you not when I say that we spent the better part of Tuesday night finishing homework and at 9pm, when it was bedtime, Princess was not finished but couldn't keep her eyes open. BB had declared that he was not going to do his homework because "I don't care." and proceeded to tear his math page into small shredded squares.
PH had homework too and I was riding him hard because I got a call last week from his teacher saying he had not been turning in any homework. Listen to the reply of this smart mother:
Oh, has he had homework?
This was clearly impressive to his teacher. She then informed me that all homework pages would have the word "Return" on the top that the child would also highlight. She then proceeded to rattle off all the things he had not turned in. I asked her to send me duplicates and we would get it done. We did a big "High Five" and a knuckle rub when we finished the last overdue assignment. But sadly, the homework just keeps coming. And often it involves "Things to do with your parents".
And while this was happening, Princess got a report card mailed home at midterm because she was getting not just one but two D's and an F. And the reason??? She had not turned in assignments and thus received partial or no credit. Her Language Arts class, and the F, requires her to read 30 minutes a day and when she finishes one of the Accelerated Reading books, she can take a quiz. Well, we learned that these AR points are 1/3 of her grade and I informed her that she best get busy reading and finish her book by the end of the weekend.
The good news is that Princess did complete her book and took the quiz. She got 10/10! She was so excited. They also finished reading a book in class and took another quiz in which she got 9/10. When I checked her grades online. Her F had become a B!!! The look on her face was absolutely priceless. And she has had her nose to the grindstone ever since. She has dutifully done her homework every night AND she has had her nose in a new book. She is almost finished with this book after just starting it on Tuesday. I love it!
But I am soooo tired. I thought that when my kids got out of Diapers and Sippy Cups my life would get a little easier. I have been sorely mis-informed and I would like to speak to the director of this cruise because they lied in the brochure!
Princess remarked that we have not sat down at the table for dinner together since Sunday afternoon. We have had something going on every evening. Granted, they are good things but they do take up our time. And I don't know that I should give them up. But I do think that we, as a family, need to get better about how we do things and how we spend our time.
I have relaxed a little on the household chores because I figure right now, school is my kids job #1. I want them to complete their homework and learn the skills of diligence, perseverance and putting first things first. So, that means that the other stuff is going to fall more on my lap. But perhaps, I have let them slide just a little too much and I need to enforce some other habits so that I don't feel so stressed out, and so that the dishes don't sit dirty in the sink for 4 days, growing fur coats and creating new aroma's.
I think it is about learning to strike some sort of balance. Right now, I feel very off kilter. Even with that feeling of being half-way to crazy-ville complete with migraine headaches, scratchy eyes and more irritableness than I like to display, I like sitting down with my kids and showing Peanut how to draw his letters or playing math games with PH and BB or letting Princess teach me French. In these moments, I have opportunities to tune in to their world, to listen to them talk about what they are learning and see how they are growing and sometimes, I can help them make connections from school to other things. And for a few minutes, there is harmony.
And even though it doesn't last long because someone calls someone else a "dimwit" and uses the baby brother as a punching bag...another declares that they are allergic to soap and clean and don't need to take a shower because they like being dirty ("It's my look.") and the living room is strewn with Lego's, the upstairs is covered in piles of laundry waiting to be washed...at some point, they all fall asleep. While I know we will go through this craziness again tomorrow, at least I know we made it through this day. It wasn't perfect. It's not always pretty. But as I look into the faces of my kids, even the one covered in bubble gum, the one with cinnamon in his hair (courtesy of a brother) and the one with red marker on his ear (Did I mention it was picture day?) and I realize, I love them and would take a million crazy days over a perfectly clean house, dishes that never sat dirty and bathrooms that never smelled like latrines. This is life. It's messy. It's noisy. It's mine.
For some reason, as busy as that time was, I feel more busy and more stressed right now keeping up with my children's homework. I kid you not when I say that we spent the better part of Tuesday night finishing homework and at 9pm, when it was bedtime, Princess was not finished but couldn't keep her eyes open. BB had declared that he was not going to do his homework because "I don't care." and proceeded to tear his math page into small shredded squares.
PH had homework too and I was riding him hard because I got a call last week from his teacher saying he had not been turning in any homework. Listen to the reply of this smart mother:
Oh, has he had homework?
This was clearly impressive to his teacher. She then informed me that all homework pages would have the word "Return" on the top that the child would also highlight. She then proceeded to rattle off all the things he had not turned in. I asked her to send me duplicates and we would get it done. We did a big "High Five" and a knuckle rub when we finished the last overdue assignment. But sadly, the homework just keeps coming. And often it involves "Things to do with your parents".
And while this was happening, Princess got a report card mailed home at midterm because she was getting not just one but two D's and an F. And the reason??? She had not turned in assignments and thus received partial or no credit. Her Language Arts class, and the F, requires her to read 30 minutes a day and when she finishes one of the Accelerated Reading books, she can take a quiz. Well, we learned that these AR points are 1/3 of her grade and I informed her that she best get busy reading and finish her book by the end of the weekend.
The good news is that Princess did complete her book and took the quiz. She got 10/10! She was so excited. They also finished reading a book in class and took another quiz in which she got 9/10. When I checked her grades online. Her F had become a B!!! The look on her face was absolutely priceless. And she has had her nose to the grindstone ever since. She has dutifully done her homework every night AND she has had her nose in a new book. She is almost finished with this book after just starting it on Tuesday. I love it!
But I am soooo tired. I thought that when my kids got out of Diapers and Sippy Cups my life would get a little easier. I have been sorely mis-informed and I would like to speak to the director of this cruise because they lied in the brochure!
Princess remarked that we have not sat down at the table for dinner together since Sunday afternoon. We have had something going on every evening. Granted, they are good things but they do take up our time. And I don't know that I should give them up. But I do think that we, as a family, need to get better about how we do things and how we spend our time.
I have relaxed a little on the household chores because I figure right now, school is my kids job #1. I want them to complete their homework and learn the skills of diligence, perseverance and putting first things first. So, that means that the other stuff is going to fall more on my lap. But perhaps, I have let them slide just a little too much and I need to enforce some other habits so that I don't feel so stressed out, and so that the dishes don't sit dirty in the sink for 4 days, growing fur coats and creating new aroma's.
I think it is about learning to strike some sort of balance. Right now, I feel very off kilter. Even with that feeling of being half-way to crazy-ville complete with migraine headaches, scratchy eyes and more irritableness than I like to display, I like sitting down with my kids and showing Peanut how to draw his letters or playing math games with PH and BB or letting Princess teach me French. In these moments, I have opportunities to tune in to their world, to listen to them talk about what they are learning and see how they are growing and sometimes, I can help them make connections from school to other things. And for a few minutes, there is harmony.
And even though it doesn't last long because someone calls someone else a "dimwit" and uses the baby brother as a punching bag...another declares that they are allergic to soap and clean and don't need to take a shower because they like being dirty ("It's my look.") and the living room is strewn with Lego's, the upstairs is covered in piles of laundry waiting to be washed...at some point, they all fall asleep. While I know we will go through this craziness again tomorrow, at least I know we made it through this day. It wasn't perfect. It's not always pretty. But as I look into the faces of my kids, even the one covered in bubble gum, the one with cinnamon in his hair (courtesy of a brother) and the one with red marker on his ear (Did I mention it was picture day?) and I realize, I love them and would take a million crazy days over a perfectly clean house, dishes that never sat dirty and bathrooms that never smelled like latrines. This is life. It's messy. It's noisy. It's mine.
Thursday, September 25, 2008
Wildlife Observations
On Saturday, I observed two males in the outdoor habitat (BB and PH). BB is clearly the leader and PH follows his lead. We went to Moore Lake Park while Peanut went to a birthday party. After I explained that the lake is closed for swimming for the season and NO, we could not just climb the fence and jump down onto the sand, they scampered off to play. Each had with him his favorite stuffed animal. BB has a blue and chartreuse octopus from IKEA named Inky and PH has his Webkin Cheeky Monkey named Bananas. I believe that BB and PH were treating their critters to a tour of the playground and it was the animals who were playing.
I watched them as they stood by the water, hands in their back pockets, then squatting down to get a closer look. I was too far away to hear what they were saying. But I was enjoying the silent movie. Then they wandered over to another part of the park. After a while. PH began to run a lap around the whole playground, just because he could.
The playground was not holding their attention and pretty soon they were asking me for an ice cream cone. I did oblige them. Their stuffed animals enjoyed the cones as well, as they showed me the ice cream face on each critter. (I tried not to be grossed out by thoughts of how sticky their animals would be and how now they will attract more dirt). And since we still had more time before Peanut's party was over, we wandered over to another park and I observed these two boys o'mine play together again.
It struck me on the sentimental side because I was remembering a time when BB refused to acknowledge that PH was his brother. He was only 3 at the time and would say "He is Princess's brudder...not my brudder." And he pretty much ignored anything PH did. But now these two are the best of friends. They are collaborators on Lego building projects and co-conspirators in mischief. They squabble and occasionally get physical with each other, just like any normal set of brothers do. PH is very tolerant of BB's antics and his annoying behaviors. But sometimes, a threshold is met and my good-natured, roll-with-the-punches PH gets really mad to the point where his face scrunches up and turns red and he will scream in frustration.
One day, I told PH (and the others for that matter) to ignore BB because he was being so annoying and that by ignoring him, they would send him a message that they will not tolerate being treated this way. I wanted BB to know that no one will play with him nor will they want to even be around him when he acts like a mini-tyrant. It took a while but eventually, the 3 victims of BB's bullying got good at ignoring him and BB was isolated. He tried to act like he didn't care. After a few hours, he picked up PH's monkey and called PH's name and then used Banana's hand to wave at PH. PH went over and smiled, and grabbed Banana's and the period of isolation was over. No words of apology were spoken but I believe that the intention was there. BB had reached out to his brother and PH reached back. Peace was achieved.
I think this is the way of brothers. They fight like cats and dogs. But they love each other with the same fierceness as what they fight with. The bond is there and neither wants there to be discord.
This male bonding has not occurred between the older boys and their younger brother. He is still the outsider. They consider him too much of a baby yet to include him. BB gets irritated because Peanut mispronounces words; he says "turch" instead of "church" and he doesn't know how to read, he can't count, he can't add and in BB's eyes, he is not yet ready to join the Boyhood of Brothers. I hope at some point, there will be a shift and they will accept him. Peanut adores his brothers and tries so hard to be like his big brothers. He copies their postures, their likes/dislikes. He wants to do everything they do. It's hero worship but to his older brothers, it's just annoying.
It is interesting watching the interplay and family dynamics going on before my eyes. I remember some of what it was like when I was growing up. I was the oldest. When I was in elementary school, I felt my sisters were "OK" but I couldn't really relate to my youngest sister because she didn't know what I was doing, nor could she understand. She started Kindergarten when I started Junior High. We were worlds apart. As I got older, I pulled away from my family and wanted to do more stuff with my friends and my sisters were annoying. They wanted to do all my cool stuff but I hated having them tag along.
It wasn't until I was in college that I realized that I was so pulled into my own thing that I missed everything that was going on with them. I watched from the outside as my two younger sisters grew closer because they were closer in age and still living at home. I felt sad and no longer a part of their lives.
Can I do better with my kids by being aware of this dynamic, this push and pull between siblings? If you sit in on conversations around the dinner table, I often talk on the topic of what it means to be a family. I can only hope that what I say and how I act will have an impact upon the course of my children's lives.
The good news is that now all 3 of us sisters are in our 30's and are quite fond of each other and have recognized that each of us are really cool people. I know that my sister's are there for me when I need them and I hope that they know I am there for them when they need me. We no longer lock each other out of the house or scratch each other's arms...occasionally, we may argue or hurt each other's feelings but we work it out like grown-ups. We love each other. We laugh with each other. We have a common history and shared memories. We have a bond.
I hope those bonds are forged deeply between each of my children. Someday, they will need to depend on each other.
I watched them as they stood by the water, hands in their back pockets, then squatting down to get a closer look. I was too far away to hear what they were saying. But I was enjoying the silent movie. Then they wandered over to another part of the park. After a while. PH began to run a lap around the whole playground, just because he could.
The playground was not holding their attention and pretty soon they were asking me for an ice cream cone. I did oblige them. Their stuffed animals enjoyed the cones as well, as they showed me the ice cream face on each critter. (I tried not to be grossed out by thoughts of how sticky their animals would be and how now they will attract more dirt). And since we still had more time before Peanut's party was over, we wandered over to another park and I observed these two boys o'mine play together again.
It struck me on the sentimental side because I was remembering a time when BB refused to acknowledge that PH was his brother. He was only 3 at the time and would say "He is Princess's brudder...not my brudder." And he pretty much ignored anything PH did. But now these two are the best of friends. They are collaborators on Lego building projects and co-conspirators in mischief. They squabble and occasionally get physical with each other, just like any normal set of brothers do. PH is very tolerant of BB's antics and his annoying behaviors. But sometimes, a threshold is met and my good-natured, roll-with-the-punches PH gets really mad to the point where his face scrunches up and turns red and he will scream in frustration.
One day, I told PH (and the others for that matter) to ignore BB because he was being so annoying and that by ignoring him, they would send him a message that they will not tolerate being treated this way. I wanted BB to know that no one will play with him nor will they want to even be around him when he acts like a mini-tyrant. It took a while but eventually, the 3 victims of BB's bullying got good at ignoring him and BB was isolated. He tried to act like he didn't care. After a few hours, he picked up PH's monkey and called PH's name and then used Banana's hand to wave at PH. PH went over and smiled, and grabbed Banana's and the period of isolation was over. No words of apology were spoken but I believe that the intention was there. BB had reached out to his brother and PH reached back. Peace was achieved.
I think this is the way of brothers. They fight like cats and dogs. But they love each other with the same fierceness as what they fight with. The bond is there and neither wants there to be discord.
This male bonding has not occurred between the older boys and their younger brother. He is still the outsider. They consider him too much of a baby yet to include him. BB gets irritated because Peanut mispronounces words; he says "turch" instead of "church" and he doesn't know how to read, he can't count, he can't add and in BB's eyes, he is not yet ready to join the Boyhood of Brothers. I hope at some point, there will be a shift and they will accept him. Peanut adores his brothers and tries so hard to be like his big brothers. He copies their postures, their likes/dislikes. He wants to do everything they do. It's hero worship but to his older brothers, it's just annoying.
It is interesting watching the interplay and family dynamics going on before my eyes. I remember some of what it was like when I was growing up. I was the oldest. When I was in elementary school, I felt my sisters were "OK" but I couldn't really relate to my youngest sister because she didn't know what I was doing, nor could she understand. She started Kindergarten when I started Junior High. We were worlds apart. As I got older, I pulled away from my family and wanted to do more stuff with my friends and my sisters were annoying. They wanted to do all my cool stuff but I hated having them tag along.
It wasn't until I was in college that I realized that I was so pulled into my own thing that I missed everything that was going on with them. I watched from the outside as my two younger sisters grew closer because they were closer in age and still living at home. I felt sad and no longer a part of their lives.
Can I do better with my kids by being aware of this dynamic, this push and pull between siblings? If you sit in on conversations around the dinner table, I often talk on the topic of what it means to be a family. I can only hope that what I say and how I act will have an impact upon the course of my children's lives.
The good news is that now all 3 of us sisters are in our 30's and are quite fond of each other and have recognized that each of us are really cool people. I know that my sister's are there for me when I need them and I hope that they know I am there for them when they need me. We no longer lock each other out of the house or scratch each other's arms...occasionally, we may argue or hurt each other's feelings but we work it out like grown-ups. We love each other. We laugh with each other. We have a common history and shared memories. We have a bond.
I hope those bonds are forged deeply between each of my children. Someday, they will need to depend on each other.
Monday, September 22, 2008
All in all, it was not a bad weekend. Two of 4 kids were grounded. BB tried to negotiate the terms of grounding down to 5 days instead of 7, and then tried to explain that I never said "Friends" were included in the grounding. I figure he is just trying to feel around for the boundaries, sort of like a dog who has a new fence...sniff around the fence, try to dig under the fence, try to jump over the fence...maybe urinate on the fence...and then relax because now he knows the fence is what is keeping him safe. And for BB, bargaining is one of his trickiest tactics. He was told to head upstairs and clean the boys bedroom. But he complained about that and then when he saw that I was just about done cleaning the living room, he claimed that he wanted to clean the living room and that this is what he wanted to do all along. W.R.O.N.G-O! But thanks for playing.
By Sunday, he settled down for the most part. And I do believe that he is attempting to communicate with me. He made a little notebook and wrote a journal entry and in this journal entry, which he very patiently waited for me to read, he stated that he felt he had had a pretty good day and had even enjoyed Zone 252 which is the Children's program during church. Maybe journaling back and forth to each other is a good way for us to bridge this communication gap. I might suggest to him that we each write a journal entry about the day and then let each other read it.
PH has another doctor appointment tomorrow. This one is a consult and should not be any more invasive than a physical. But I have a gut feeling that we are headed for more invasive appointments as we try to figure out why he continues to reflux, regurgitate and vomit continually throughout the day. Rather than decreasing, things seem to be getting worse. But PH doesn't complain. He just goes with the flow. When I told him he has another appointment, he just said, "OK."
I reached the summit of Mount St. Laundry. And I have reached the Towel Foothills which I shall conquer tonight. I danced with my WetJet across the kitchen floor and perhaps we shall dance again tonight in the bathroom. I had the living room looking fairly decent for about an hour and then Peanut decided to cut up some curling ribbon into little chunks which got spread across the floor as people walked and the wind blew in through the open window. Sigh. Maybe I should consider covering everything in plastic or taking a picture and hanging it on the wall to remind me of how my living room COULD look if I did nothing else but pick up dirty socks, apple cores, shreds of paper and discarded sweatshirts all day or vacuumed twice a day like my Grandmother did. In her house, dust dare not settle anywhere. Alas, she would have had a different sort of life had she had 3 boys instead of just my Dad!
My house will never be a showpiece. But when I see my kids relaxing on the couches and I get a moment to put my feet up on my ottoman as I sit in my favorite comfy chair, I realize, it's still home. And the Lego's are forever banished to the boys room upstairs. That should last a few days anyway!
By Sunday, he settled down for the most part. And I do believe that he is attempting to communicate with me. He made a little notebook and wrote a journal entry and in this journal entry, which he very patiently waited for me to read, he stated that he felt he had had a pretty good day and had even enjoyed Zone 252 which is the Children's program during church. Maybe journaling back and forth to each other is a good way for us to bridge this communication gap. I might suggest to him that we each write a journal entry about the day and then let each other read it.
PH has another doctor appointment tomorrow. This one is a consult and should not be any more invasive than a physical. But I have a gut feeling that we are headed for more invasive appointments as we try to figure out why he continues to reflux, regurgitate and vomit continually throughout the day. Rather than decreasing, things seem to be getting worse. But PH doesn't complain. He just goes with the flow. When I told him he has another appointment, he just said, "OK."
I reached the summit of Mount St. Laundry. And I have reached the Towel Foothills which I shall conquer tonight. I danced with my WetJet across the kitchen floor and perhaps we shall dance again tonight in the bathroom. I had the living room looking fairly decent for about an hour and then Peanut decided to cut up some curling ribbon into little chunks which got spread across the floor as people walked and the wind blew in through the open window. Sigh. Maybe I should consider covering everything in plastic or taking a picture and hanging it on the wall to remind me of how my living room COULD look if I did nothing else but pick up dirty socks, apple cores, shreds of paper and discarded sweatshirts all day or vacuumed twice a day like my Grandmother did. In her house, dust dare not settle anywhere. Alas, she would have had a different sort of life had she had 3 boys instead of just my Dad!
My house will never be a showpiece. But when I see my kids relaxing on the couches and I get a moment to put my feet up on my ottoman as I sit in my favorite comfy chair, I realize, it's still home. And the Lego's are forever banished to the boys room upstairs. That should last a few days anyway!
Thursday, September 18, 2008
I have been WAY too down on myself. My life is very difficult. I can't get around that and it is not likely to change. For crying out loud, I have 4 kids! And for the next ??? years, my life is going to be very full of kid things like Homework, dirty dishes, dirty clothes, dirty toilets, housework, bills, after-school activities, church activities. So I am going to mentally smack myself in the head and tell me to "Get over it. Move on."
I'm not a bad mom. I'm a busy mom. I am doing a two person job as a one person. But the work still has to be done. But my God-given gift is a brain, a sense of humor and an ability to organize. So, I have a color-coded calendar (except that Someone Who Shall Remain Nameless keeps taking my "Calendar Pens" for his art projects...oops! That narrows the field down to 3). I have lists. I have cubbies and a bulletin board. I'm developing a system and a routine.
But I have a little Rebel Who Lies Within. She pokes her head out now and then and wants to break free from all the rules, the structure and organization and say, "To heck with the cleaning...Don't do the dishes...forget about the dirty socks on the living room floor and the bathroom that smells like a port-a-potty at the state fair...lets just hang out and watch TV and then go to bed. We'll do it tomorrow!" Rebel has another name... the Procrastinator. She and I have duked it out since my school days.
If I let the Rebel rule, the dishes pile up higher, take longer, smell nastier. The house gets dirtier and then what am I teaching my kids? Am I teaching them to value a clean living space, to respect property and display good manners? Am I teaching them the virtue of work first,then play? And what about teaching them how to be respectful of people, places and things? It all starts at home.
So, Rebel Procrastinator, you will need to be quiet. The Grown-up is in charge. I may not be happy about it. I doubt I will ever have a stellar love affair with my broom (although I do have a certain fondness for my Wet Jet) nor will I write poems about cleaning supplies but we will come to terms and learn to live in harmony and I will put aside my rebel ways.
However, as a Grown Up,I do reserve the right to sometimes take a night off understanding that there are consequences and if I am willing to accept the consequences, then I will not feel guilty about it.
So, going home after a long day at work and setting about to cook a meal, do the dishes, start a load of laundry...it's just what I do. Organizing backpacks and checking for homework, checking for brushed teeth, clean sheets and finding missing shoes. It's my job. It's my love for my family that keeps me at it even when the days get long and seem so hard.
Enough about that. What do I love about what I do?
1. A clean kitchen. (My standards have changed in this. Clean dishes, wiped off counters and a swept floor...I don't expect things to sparkle or be able to eat off the floor. I WetJet on the weekend or when there is a spill. But I love to see clear counters and an empty sink.)
2. The smell of freshly washed sheets when I tumble into bed after a long day.
3. Wrapping up in a quilt on the couch with a kid on each side while we watch something together.
4. Listening to Peanut describe his day at Kindergarten and sound out words-- Kkkk-Uuuuu-Puh or tell me about his "Blood Muscles" (blood vessels).
5. Talking to Princess about her French homework or correcting her spelling(and her spelling is pretty bad, so we spend a lot of time doing this).
6. Playing a math game on the kitchen floor with BB.
7. Petting my cats.
8. The smell of a freshly shampooed boy, wrapped up in a warm towel.
9. The sound of my children's laughter.
10. Watching my kids playing outside from the window.
11. Watching my kids while they sleep.
12. Tucking my kids in at bedtime.
13. Signing "I love you" as I send them out the door to school.
14. Peanut blowing me kisses.
15. Mini-van dance parties to disco music!
16. Text messages from my kids "We're home." "We're playing outside." "I'm in the bathroom." and "Can you help me with my math homework?" Isn't technology grand? Next time they tell me they are in the bathroom, I'm texting back and asking them if they are pooping! Just for fun!
17. Looking at scrapbooks together and laughing as we read the stories.
18. Talking about the day they were born.
19. Remembering the day I learned I was pregnant, the way they wiggled inside me and how I felt the day they finally arrived.
20. Watching my children grow taller and their faces change from baby-chubby to girlish or boyish to tweeny.
21. A million little moments I can't put into words.
I'm not a bad mom. I'm a busy mom. I am doing a two person job as a one person. But the work still has to be done. But my God-given gift is a brain, a sense of humor and an ability to organize. So, I have a color-coded calendar (except that Someone Who Shall Remain Nameless keeps taking my "Calendar Pens" for his art projects...oops! That narrows the field down to 3). I have lists. I have cubbies and a bulletin board. I'm developing a system and a routine.
But I have a little Rebel Who Lies Within. She pokes her head out now and then and wants to break free from all the rules, the structure and organization and say, "To heck with the cleaning...Don't do the dishes...forget about the dirty socks on the living room floor and the bathroom that smells like a port-a-potty at the state fair...lets just hang out and watch TV and then go to bed. We'll do it tomorrow!" Rebel has another name... the Procrastinator. She and I have duked it out since my school days.
If I let the Rebel rule, the dishes pile up higher, take longer, smell nastier. The house gets dirtier and then what am I teaching my kids? Am I teaching them to value a clean living space, to respect property and display good manners? Am I teaching them the virtue of work first,then play? And what about teaching them how to be respectful of people, places and things? It all starts at home.
So, Rebel Procrastinator, you will need to be quiet. The Grown-up is in charge. I may not be happy about it. I doubt I will ever have a stellar love affair with my broom (although I do have a certain fondness for my Wet Jet) nor will I write poems about cleaning supplies but we will come to terms and learn to live in harmony and I will put aside my rebel ways.
However, as a Grown Up,I do reserve the right to sometimes take a night off understanding that there are consequences and if I am willing to accept the consequences, then I will not feel guilty about it.
So, going home after a long day at work and setting about to cook a meal, do the dishes, start a load of laundry...it's just what I do. Organizing backpacks and checking for homework, checking for brushed teeth, clean sheets and finding missing shoes. It's my job. It's my love for my family that keeps me at it even when the days get long and seem so hard.
Enough about that. What do I love about what I do?
1. A clean kitchen. (My standards have changed in this. Clean dishes, wiped off counters and a swept floor...I don't expect things to sparkle or be able to eat off the floor. I WetJet on the weekend or when there is a spill. But I love to see clear counters and an empty sink.)
2. The smell of freshly washed sheets when I tumble into bed after a long day.
3. Wrapping up in a quilt on the couch with a kid on each side while we watch something together.
4. Listening to Peanut describe his day at Kindergarten and sound out words-- Kkkk-Uuuuu-Puh or tell me about his "Blood Muscles" (blood vessels).
5. Talking to Princess about her French homework or correcting her spelling(and her spelling is pretty bad, so we spend a lot of time doing this).
6. Playing a math game on the kitchen floor with BB.
7. Petting my cats.
8. The smell of a freshly shampooed boy, wrapped up in a warm towel.
9. The sound of my children's laughter.
10. Watching my kids playing outside from the window.
11. Watching my kids while they sleep.
12. Tucking my kids in at bedtime.
13. Signing "I love you" as I send them out the door to school.
14. Peanut blowing me kisses.
15. Mini-van dance parties to disco music!
16. Text messages from my kids "We're home." "We're playing outside." "I'm in the bathroom." and "Can you help me with my math homework?" Isn't technology grand? Next time they tell me they are in the bathroom, I'm texting back and asking them if they are pooping! Just for fun!
17. Looking at scrapbooks together and laughing as we read the stories.
18. Talking about the day they were born.
19. Remembering the day I learned I was pregnant, the way they wiggled inside me and how I felt the day they finally arrived.
20. Watching my children grow taller and their faces change from baby-chubby to girlish or boyish to tweeny.
21. A million little moments I can't put into words.
Friday, September 12, 2008
The Camel-Mom
I'm not in a good mood. It goes beyond grumpy or "out of sorts". I'm frustrated, sad, angry and confused all rolled up into one big rock sitting in my gut. It is not a pleasant feeling. I can't count how many times I have cried today or wanted to run home, throw my head under the covers and not come out til spring. But somebody has to be the grown-up and as much as my almost 10 year old would like to be...it ain't him.
I don't know how much more I can take on. I know that God won't give more than we can handle but I feel like I am about at my breaking point. I remember this game I played as a kid called "Break the Camel's Back" where you put straws into the saddle bags on this camel and when it got to be too many, then the camel would collapse and whoever was the last one to put a straw in was the loser. I feel like the camel and my knees are starting to buckle.
Why?
BB is giving me attitude, disrespect and complete defiance. I'm tired of telling him to do something and having him say back to me "I don't have to." I know, I know, I know that he is just trying to push my buttons. Well, it's working. My buttons are pushed full ON. He wants a fight. He wants me mad so he can push back. I did lose my cool last night. I picked him up a couple of times and carried him to his room, telling him to go to bed. He would just march right out. Then he would turn the light on, while his brothers were trying to sleep. He would wrap his legs around the chair. He would grip the door frame with his fingers. At one point, he swung out and hit me in the jaw. I don't know at this point if he meant to punch me. His fist was closed. I have a bruise. But more than the mark on my face, it's the bruise in my heart. Finally, I told him to sleep downstairs on the couch. I refrained from saying "And just get out of my face."
This morning, the surly mood continued. I wanted him to take his medicine. He refused. I tried to sit him up, and he would slump down. I brought him milk. I did all the things I could think of, all the things he said he prefers for taking his medicine and still he refused. At this point, the dam broke. Tears filled my eyes and I said, "Look at me. Is this what you want? To make me hurt, to make me cry? Because you have. Do you think it makes you tough to beat up on your mom? Is this the kind of man you want to grow up to be? A man who bullies people into getting what you want, who beats them up to get what you need? You think about that."
He was very quiet on the drive over to school. And I continued to wipe away the tears, occasionally bumping the tender spot on my face that reminds me that things are way out of control. And I don't know how to get it back.
And if this isn't enough, PH needs to have an upper GI done next week and then see a Gastroenterologist to see if we can figure out why he continues to regurgitate and throw up. I have watched him, when he doesn't know. It is happening far more frequently than I realized. The thing of it is, he doesn't complain. But I think he does suffer. He just takes it quietly. But then with a noisy, out of control brother like BB, maybe he realizes he won't be heard. Or I am also suspecting that he has a high pain tolerance and just doesn't cry until things are really, really bad.
I have had several migraines this week. Like I needed that too. Add on to it managing a household, Mount St. Laundry that continues to grow on a daily basis, checking backpacks for homework, cooking, cleaning...and then simply just being. All of these are straws being dumped into my saddle bag... plunk, plunk, plunk.
I don't know how much more I can take on. I know that God won't give more than we can handle but I feel like I am about at my breaking point. I remember this game I played as a kid called "Break the Camel's Back" where you put straws into the saddle bags on this camel and when it got to be too many, then the camel would collapse and whoever was the last one to put a straw in was the loser. I feel like the camel and my knees are starting to buckle.
Why?
BB is giving me attitude, disrespect and complete defiance. I'm tired of telling him to do something and having him say back to me "I don't have to." I know, I know, I know that he is just trying to push my buttons. Well, it's working. My buttons are pushed full ON. He wants a fight. He wants me mad so he can push back. I did lose my cool last night. I picked him up a couple of times and carried him to his room, telling him to go to bed. He would just march right out. Then he would turn the light on, while his brothers were trying to sleep. He would wrap his legs around the chair. He would grip the door frame with his fingers. At one point, he swung out and hit me in the jaw. I don't know at this point if he meant to punch me. His fist was closed. I have a bruise. But more than the mark on my face, it's the bruise in my heart. Finally, I told him to sleep downstairs on the couch. I refrained from saying "And just get out of my face."
This morning, the surly mood continued. I wanted him to take his medicine. He refused. I tried to sit him up, and he would slump down. I brought him milk. I did all the things I could think of, all the things he said he prefers for taking his medicine and still he refused. At this point, the dam broke. Tears filled my eyes and I said, "Look at me. Is this what you want? To make me hurt, to make me cry? Because you have. Do you think it makes you tough to beat up on your mom? Is this the kind of man you want to grow up to be? A man who bullies people into getting what you want, who beats them up to get what you need? You think about that."
He was very quiet on the drive over to school. And I continued to wipe away the tears, occasionally bumping the tender spot on my face that reminds me that things are way out of control. And I don't know how to get it back.
And if this isn't enough, PH needs to have an upper GI done next week and then see a Gastroenterologist to see if we can figure out why he continues to regurgitate and throw up. I have watched him, when he doesn't know. It is happening far more frequently than I realized. The thing of it is, he doesn't complain. But I think he does suffer. He just takes it quietly. But then with a noisy, out of control brother like BB, maybe he realizes he won't be heard. Or I am also suspecting that he has a high pain tolerance and just doesn't cry until things are really, really bad.
I have had several migraines this week. Like I needed that too. Add on to it managing a household, Mount St. Laundry that continues to grow on a daily basis, checking backpacks for homework, cooking, cleaning...and then simply just being. All of these are straws being dumped into my saddle bag... plunk, plunk, plunk.
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