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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

I am a late bloomer but I catch on eventually.

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

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

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

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

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

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

Taking Back My House…One Room At A Time

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

Whew!

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

I think.

Maybe.

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

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

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

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

That would be a big NO.

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

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

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

Almost.

Chilly Day for Chili

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

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

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

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

Oh-Kay.

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

My first Meme:

(from my friend Jamsco)

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

Sick Days

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

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

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

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

“Can’t you stay home with me?”

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

“How about Grandma?”

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

“How about Grandpa?”

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

Green-Eyed Monster Unleashed

The Green-eyed Monster, or GEM, has been seen creeping around our house causing symptoms ranging from mild to moderate irritation, complaining, yelling or complete defiance and non-cooperation. The reason for his emergence is that one 7 year old boy required a surgical procedure this week and as a result, he has been receiving extra attention, gifts and cards, as well as access to a Wii and Xbox and time with Grandma and Grandpa.

GEM has led to fighting amongst the boys and arguments about the health status and his abilities or non-abilities. GEM has also whispered in the ears of some of the children causing them to say things like, “How come you never buy stuff for us? How come you never let me stay home all week? How come he doesn’t have to do his homework?”.

What is a Mom to do when GEM has invaded? Seriously, if you have ideas, I would love to hear them because I have just about hit my limit for what I can tolerate of this naughty, spoiled, selfish behavior. It is hard enough dealing with a child who had surgery and needs extra attention (yet never demands it and would be easy to overlook his needs), a different diet, monitoring of his pain and comfort and extra rest. But dealing with the other children who think that perhaps the scales are tipped unfairly and they are missing out on something is frustrating. Why can’t you just relax?

I have had to do a lot of reassurance that just because PH needs extra TLC, does not mean that I love them any less. Just because PH gets special presents from people does not mean that they are liked or loved less by the gift-bearers but whining and complaining is not going to result in them receiving gifts and attention.

Because PH is so mild-mannered and compliant and he has such a high pain threshold, he does not look particularly sick or like he is in a lot of pain. However, I the Mom, RN know better. I know what he looks like when he is hurting because he scrunches himself up into a tight little ball and then stares intently at the TV. He won’t admit there is pain unless asked directly. So, I feel it is my place to be his advocate even amongst his siblings. I must tell them what he needs, what he can and cannot do. I must protect him without moving into coddling.

The worst moment, which then turned into a good moment, was a conversation I had with BB who seemed to be the most bothered by the fact that PH did not have to go to school all week, when in his expert 9 year old opinion, PH was clearly well enough to return to school. But as I pulled away the layers in order to figure out what was really bothering BB, we discovered that BB is jealous that PH does not have to go to school but he has to and he does not want to. And further peeling of the layers uncovered that BB is feeling frustrated with school because math is feeling very difficult and he is not understanding it. Ah Ha!!!

So, Mom, RN and sometimes child psychologist, figured out that because math feels impossible, then all of school feels awful when you are a black-and-white, all-or-nothing thinker like BB. But Mom can help him resolve this problem. Mom can step in and advocate for BB. So, this is what I told him. I explained that I would be able to talk to his teacher about his problem with math and request some extra help or attention. I then spent about 20 minutes pouring out my belief in him. I told him the things that make him special and how I believe that since the day he was born, he has been a fighter. I told him the story of his birth and being all bound up in the umbilical cord and how God protected him by giving the doctor the wisdom to determine that a C-section was the best solution and had he decided to send me home for a few more days, BB would have died. Instead, BB came out screaming his head off and kicking like crazy. Then I told him how after being born he was jaundiced and it became Mom’s fight for him because I had to wrap him up in a special light and wake him up every two hours to eat. And all the while, I knew in my heart that God had special plans for BB and his temperament of questioning, arguing and fighting for himself is something God is going to use for good but it is Mom’s job as the parent, to help him find his gifts and help them grow and also to help him identify his weak areas and improve on them.

The whole time I talked to BB, while rubbing his back and talking in a soothing tone, he just relaxed under my hand and curled up. If he was a cat, he would have purred. His eyes were wide and realized that there were parts of his story that I had never, until this moment, shared with him. But he needed to hear it now. He needed to know that God has a special plan for him and that Mom believes in him.

I don’t know if GEM is gone yet. I suspect he is hanging around for a few more days but perhaps his power has been diminished. I have learned that my most powerful weapon for the GEM is prayer and patience. GEM loves to see Mom’s get angry and upset. GEM thrives in discord and irritation. He grows bigger as temper’s flare out of control. But he shrinks when love is spoken and patience is utilized.

Fall Lecture Series: Lecture #2

We Are All in This Together: (Or “Why it is NOT JUST Mom’s job to keep the house clean” :

The format of this lecture is a little different. It is a Question and Answer format or Round Table discussion (except that our table is Rectangular, as one bright child will be sure to comment on):

In response to the phrase: “But I didn’t make the mess, why should I have to clean it?”
"If the command comes down from the top (meaning Mom), then it should be obeyed regardless of who made the initial mess.
We are a family and we are all responsible for cleaning the house and keeping it picked up on a DAILY basis. "

"Sometimes, when you are wandering around wondering what you should be doing when Mom has announced it is clean up time, Mom will assign you a more specific job to do such as picking up articles of clothing or pieces of trash. It is not a judgment that you are the perpetrator of the mess, that you are the only one who has discarded dirty socks carelessly nor are you the one who ate all the items of food that generate small wrappers…it is merely a job that someone must do and I have chosen you."

"If we all lived by the philosophy of “I didn’t do it so I don’t have to clean it up” then no one would own up to anything and the house will be heaping over with trash, dirty dishes and laundry. Quite frankly, I have been picking up after you since the day you were born.
We are a family. We live together in this house and we will keep it clean together. It is not just Mom’s job. It is all of our jobs."

"Since you still don’t listen to my good reasons, then I will be forced to say, “You will do it because I am telling you to do it. End of story.”"

Exactly who is “Nobody” and “I don’t know” and why do they keep coming over to our house to leave entrails of debris, chaos and disorderliness in every room?

"Quit inviting these pesky friends! "

"Do you expect me to believe that the legos just walked out of their box and spread themselves all over the living room, the stairs, the dining room table, the kitchen counters and the bathtub all by themselves? "

"I wasn’t born yesterday. "

"Just own up to what you do or clean it up anyway. "

In response to the statement: “So-and-so isn’t working…so I’m not going to.”

"I did not tell “So-and-so” to pick up the backpacks and put them in their cubbies. I told you. And I will have a different job for So-and-so."

"Perhaps So-and-so is choosing to be naughty but you can choose to do as you are told. So-and-so will have a consequence for disobeying and unless you want the consequence too, do your job and don’t worry about who is or is not doing something."

In response to the statement: “Saturday is our day off. We should get to do whatever we want.”

"What, exactly, do you need a day off from?"

"God worked for 6 days and rested on the 7th. Sunday is our day of worship and our day off."

"If we work real hard in the morning, we can have the rest of the day to play. But if you drag this out all day, then that is your consequence."

"Saturday is one of the few days where Mom does not go to work but that does not mean that there are not things that need to be done like grocery shopping and other errands. "

Why does Mom keep saying “This house is a pig sty.”, “I’ve seen cow barns that are cleaner than this.”, and “I don’t want to live in the dump.”?

"Pigs wallow in mud puddles. They are not clean animals. They also eat garbage. We are not pigs. We are people and we do not live in mud or eat garbage but from the looks of things right now, we are living like pigs."

"Even cow barns which are full of big cows that poop a lot are cleaned out fairly regularly or else they smell."

"The dump is where garbage goes to rot and disintegrate. It is full of piles and piles of discarded objects and rotten food. At the moment, the house looks like the dump. "

"It would be nice to come home to a living room that was tidy so that we can sit down and relax and do fun things together. "

A clarification on what is acceptable and what is not in regards to cleanliness of person, house and yard.

"Garbage goes in the trashcan. Notice there is one in just about every room. There is no excuse but pure laziness for leaving your pop tart wrapper on the floor or stuffed in the couch cushions."

"Dishes go in the sink. Don’t hide them behind the couch or set them down on the end table. It takes more effort to hide things than it does to walk them over to where they belong.
Rinse your dishes and stack them neatly. "

"Laundry goes in the laundry basket. There are several of these located upstairs. If you take off your socks or your sweatshirt, take an extra 30 seconds of your precious day to put the item away."

"When you are finished playing, clean up. Clean up is part of playing just as much as playing is part of playing. And if you do this after you are done, there is less to do when it’s time to tidy up."

"Every person needs to bathe, brush their teeth and have clean hands and faces. Get used to it. Without regular bathing, we start to stink and our teeth rot and fall out of our heads and no one wants to be near us. Dirty hands are just plain gross. "