Tomorrow (very early), Mountain Man and I leave on a week-long trip. I wish I could say it was to Hawaii or Europe or someplace exotic, but, no, it's to Pennsylvania. You see, Mountain Man, during the day, masquerades as a manager of facilities compliance for a biotech company. He will be attending a conference on calibration and maintenance management near Penn State. Doesn't that sound exotic and exciting? He attended this conference last year and really enjoyed it. They even interviewed him for their promotional video and he had a cameo in it. Last year, he realized he was very near many historic locations, and being a history and Civil War buff, he crafted a plan to work some sightseeing into this year's trip. AND, to make it more fun, me to come along!
Now, I'm not one to turn down a trip, but our agenda sounds like a long school field trip. We'll be visiting the states of Maryland, Pennsylvania, West Virginia and Virginia. Possibly also Washington, DC, but that's up in the air. We fly into Baltimore, spend the first night in York, PA, the second night in Harpers Ferry, WV, then three nights in State College, PA. Then, we'll finish the week with two nights in Alexandria, VA where we'll visit my cousin. We'll see Gettysburg, Antietam battlefield, the campus of Penn State University, and the Del Ray neighborhood in Alexandria. Jeff will get his Civil War fix and I'll take tons of pictures. While he's at his conference for three days, I'll explore downtown State College, shop, drink coffee, upload pictures, and blog. That part sounds pretty amazing to me.
I'm already packed (a miracle) and so now I'm going through mental checklists to ensure I haven't forgotten anything. Of course, that includes worrying about the house, the kids, the pets, and pretty much everything else. I always leave a list of things for the kids not to forget while I'm gone: let the dog out, check the mail, lock the doors. I've now added "don't text and drive" because as the kids have grown older, there are new dangers. I used to stock the fridge, send detailed agendas to the neighbors, make tedious lists.....I can't help it, I'm a mom. I worry incessantly about all the awful things that might happen. Plane crashes, car crashes, sudden illness, pistol-whipping bandits......am I the only mom to catastrophize when I'm leaving town? (P.S. that's a word. I looked it up).
My anxiety is such that I talk myself out of things often. For years, I wouldn't fly on a plane. I was fine before I had kids and then suddenly I developed a terrifying fear of airplane travel. I'd been on dozens of plane trips before then, why all of a sudden did the thought of taking a vacation make my blood run cold? I could only attribute it to a primal fear and need to protect my young. Avoiding dangerous (or potentially dangerous) things ensured nothing bad could happen. Never mind I drove them all over the damn place in a car all day. And that my chances of being in a car crash far outweighed my chances of being in a plane crash. But no logic could assauge my fears. I simply would not do it.
In the past three years or so, I've been on numerous plane trips. I barely even give it a passing thought now. I can only attribute this change to excellent anti-anxiety drugs. And while I no longer worry (much) about flying, my heart still races during turbulence and I have a hard time sitting still on long flights. Tomorrow's flight will be about five hours (direct, no stops to break it up). I'll be stir-crazy, and I'll need distractions. I've uploaded dozens of books on my Kindle, purchased a few magazines on my tablet and loaded multiple games and distractions to keep me busy. I love traveling to other places, but the getting there makes me nuts. I have no idea how I'm ever going to handle international travel but I WILL do it. Someday.
In the meantime, I really need to read up on all these historical stops we're going to make. I'm embarrassed that I remember very little about them from my brief grade-school education. As I type this, Mountain Man is watching a documentary on the Civil War. I should probably pay better attention. I do know the casualties were staggering. It all seems very depressing to me. Visiting a battlefield where thousands died is not my first choice for a vacation spot. But I know my husband will enjoy it and I'm always up for an adventure with him.
I just hope the kids cook some real food, keep the house clean, stay out of trouble, and let the dog out while I'm gone. And empty the cat box. And lock the doors. And vacuum once or twice. It's exhausting leaving town. The "kids" are nearly adults now, so I've relaxed slightly. I know they can feed themselves, take care of minor inconveniences and sign permission slips for younger siblings. So, why is it that just before every trip, I have a sudden desire to hunker down at home and keep my family close? I love adventure. I love travel (and I'm loving it more and more as I get older). But I also love home. It's great to escape the every day now and then and do something completely different. I've thoroughly enjoyed my solitary explorations of the various cities in which my husband has had a business trip. I've walked for miles in San Francisco, done a city-wide geocache in Fort Worth, and spent entire days in San Diego on my own. These little slices of solitude have been rare treats in my 22 years of raising four kids. With no schedules to juggle, no dishes or laundry to do, no job weighing on my mind, I'm left with just getting to know myself. It's both scary and delightful. I'm getting outside my city, my comfort zone and myself just by boarding a jet plane. I can't wait to go and I can't wait to get home again.
Friday, November 6, 2015
Thursday, November 5, 2015
November 5 and thrifting.........
I love to shop at thrift stores! We have one just down the road from our house, and I've taken to stopping there once a week or so to check out what's new. That's the cool thing about thrift stores - it's ALWAYS new. Except it's old. But what's old is new again, right? I've found some amazing things at thrift stores.
Today, for instance, I got this super cool mirror for $8.99. I looked it up on ebay and similar ones of the same brand are selling for $80-200! What a deal! I'm giving it to my oldest daughter for her apartment. It will add a gilded touch to her decor and every girl should have a fancy mirror to look into, right?
Today, for instance, I got this super cool mirror for $8.99. I looked it up on ebay and similar ones of the same brand are selling for $80-200! What a deal! I'm giving it to my oldest daughter for her apartment. It will add a gilded touch to her decor and every girl should have a fancy mirror to look into, right?
I also bought some baby clothes. Not because I have a baby to buy clothes for, but because I was on the lookout for some sweaters for a project that wouldn't take much fabric, so children's clothes seemed ideal. Except there were no sweaters to be found, so I settled for two baby onesies, a brand-new shirt with the tags still attached, and a pair of leggings. I cut them up, while my husband cut up some old pallet wood in the garage. And together we made this:
Yes, I know it's too early for Christmas decorations, but I'm getting a head start, ok? And my house is festooned in Thanksgiving decorations. But isn't this cute? I just love a cute, free craft. And, because storage is always an issue, my husband made these with dowels in them at the bottom so this can be taken apart and stored flat. The wood was free, and the clothes for the fabric cost me $6. Plus I have enough left over to make a whole other set of these little trees!
I also bought three leather belts for Jeff's crafts, some adorable sticky notes and some cute pencils. I almost never spend more than $20 and I get so many things. For years, when things are tight financially (and when are they NOT?) thrifting has satisfied my need for retail therapy when a shopping spree isn't in the cards. Plus, it's fun to look really carefully through things to find treasures. I once walked into the thrift store near my house and immediately saw a 1950's vintage telephone table for $30. This was probably the most I've spent on a thrift find, but I LOVE it and it's useful! Similar tables like this are going for $100+ on ebay. Not that I'd sell it. I had big plans to refinish it, too. But then I kind of fell in love with it and decided I'd just leave it as is. I can always paint it and recover the seat. But why? I like the original charm.
Recently, at the same thrift store, I found an old magazine holder (at least I think that's what it is...I can't seem to find anything like it on ebay). I grabbed it up for around $12 thinking it would be really cute painted. I even though about painting it and selling it. But then it served a useful purpose - holding the kids' HUGE college textbooks which were taking up valuable real estate on the kitchen table. Now, they're tucked away out of sight. I might still paint it, but for now it actually goes with our decor AND it's functional.
I know some people wouldn't be caught dead in a thrift store. The idea of using/wearing/buying someone else's cast-offs is off-putting. But, my theory is that everything can be washed or wiped down. Why spend full price on something when you can get it so cheap at a second-hand shop? I buy all my plastic hangers from the thrift store. I bring them home, dunk them in a sink full of soapy water, dry them off and they're good as new. They're also 5 cents each. I've picked up books for my classroom 5 for a dollar. Some of my favorite clothes have come from thrift and consignment stores. I love saving money more than I love having brand-new things. And everything old has a story to tell, if you're willing to hear it.
Wednesday, November 4, 2015
November 4 and I already missed a day.....
I missed blogging yesterday because we got home minutes before midnight after going to see a showing of "If/Then" at the Paramount. I was going to squeeze in a post, but my son took over my computer looking at other shows we could potentially see. That's what happens after you see a live show.....you just want more! Not only did we score an amazing deal on tickets, but we were able to share two of them with a mom and daughter I know from a Facebook group, and we took some of Harrison's friends - one of whom is obsessed with Idina Menzel, the show's star, and was sobbing when she got to meet her after the show! We loitered around the stage door until the actors came out and they were all so nice, taking time to sign programs, talk to fans, and pose for selfies. It was so much fun - especially watching the kids interact with the actors. So, I missed blogging but I was busy creating memories and taking grainy photos with my cell phone.
Today at work we had a meeting with a "coach" (a teacher who teaches teachers - yes, it's a thing) and it turned into a conundrum of how to best serve our kids with our limited resources and time. I guess that's the age-old story of teaching. But we're paraeducators....we make pennies compared to teachers and we're expected to do so much. We all take work home with us, and there's never enough time. My group that meets just before the meeting is scheduled until 11:25. The meeting is at 11:30. In between that time I had to clean up (huge vocabulary/picture card project spread all over my table), put my things away, gather my things for the next class, grab my lunch, and try to find a second to pee. Of course, there wasn't a second, and I was the last person to arrive at the meeting - again. But a girl's gotta pee. It's crazy how fast we have to move all day between groups and we're often frazzled. This morning, my husband mentioned he was reading a book - at WORK! I said "You have time to read books for personal enrichment while you're on the job??" to which he replied "It's for work." Wow. I can't even pee at work and he gets to READ? Sometimes, he complains that I haven't checked my email or replied to a text - LOL! All of my electronic correspondence happens AFTER I get off work, which often isn't when I'm really supposed to be off work.
Case in point: I've stayed late every day this week, did a special project for two hours yesterday, and today was one of my twice-weekly appointments for home tutoring. I go to a student's apartment and teach him at home. This child is in a wheelchair, on a tracheotomy tube, cannot speak, has vision issues, has cancer, and suffered a catastrophic brain bleed. I was asked to be his home tutor because I can speak Spanish, therefore, I can communicate with his parents. That's my only qualification and I received no training. But I've worked in special ed a bit, so I felt comfortable giving it a try. I pretty much make up things for him to do that might be enriching or give us information on what kind of learning goals he might have. Chances are, when he returns to school, which might be very soon, he won't attend our school because we don't have the necessary ways to accommodate him, physically. Right now, I'm his only "teacher" and I'm doing my best. It's not easy and the whole situation is sad. Working with him is slow and tedious and today both his father and his nurse sat and watched me the whole time. I felt like I was performing. But I ignored them and kept going, focusing on my goals - to try to keep his brain engaged and challenge him. He's a smart kid! But I have very few materials that are helpful for success. As in my regular job, I make up a lot of it as I go and I get creative.
But........I'm grateful to have a job that allows me to work with kids and to teach. I love that. And I'm lucky to work with some pretty amazing, smart and creative people. But it's really frustrating sometimes, working in public education. It often feels futile. All the data collecting, the "measurable progress", the strict guidelines we must follow to qualify a child for extra help, even when it's been apparent for YEARS that they really need it. It's crazy, really. But then there are those "small moments" when everything clicks and you see a light go on and you KNOW the kids are learning. Today, I had two of my "newcomer" students working on their sight words. Neither speaks English much at all. One speaks Japanese and one speaks Spanish. But I tried something different today. I had some letter cards I was given recently, so I spread them out all over the table and asked the girls to build their sight words letter by letter. Amazingly, by doing this, they were able to read MORE of the words than ever before. They got more and more excited as they worked. It was pretty awesome to see them realizing that they knew the words. Sure, they also need to know the meaning and how to use them properly in a sentence, but for a few minutes today, they felt successful. So, I felt successful. Win-win!
Today at work we had a meeting with a "coach" (a teacher who teaches teachers - yes, it's a thing) and it turned into a conundrum of how to best serve our kids with our limited resources and time. I guess that's the age-old story of teaching. But we're paraeducators....we make pennies compared to teachers and we're expected to do so much. We all take work home with us, and there's never enough time. My group that meets just before the meeting is scheduled until 11:25. The meeting is at 11:30. In between that time I had to clean up (huge vocabulary/picture card project spread all over my table), put my things away, gather my things for the next class, grab my lunch, and try to find a second to pee. Of course, there wasn't a second, and I was the last person to arrive at the meeting - again. But a girl's gotta pee. It's crazy how fast we have to move all day between groups and we're often frazzled. This morning, my husband mentioned he was reading a book - at WORK! I said "You have time to read books for personal enrichment while you're on the job??" to which he replied "It's for work." Wow. I can't even pee at work and he gets to READ? Sometimes, he complains that I haven't checked my email or replied to a text - LOL! All of my electronic correspondence happens AFTER I get off work, which often isn't when I'm really supposed to be off work.
Case in point: I've stayed late every day this week, did a special project for two hours yesterday, and today was one of my twice-weekly appointments for home tutoring. I go to a student's apartment and teach him at home. This child is in a wheelchair, on a tracheotomy tube, cannot speak, has vision issues, has cancer, and suffered a catastrophic brain bleed. I was asked to be his home tutor because I can speak Spanish, therefore, I can communicate with his parents. That's my only qualification and I received no training. But I've worked in special ed a bit, so I felt comfortable giving it a try. I pretty much make up things for him to do that might be enriching or give us information on what kind of learning goals he might have. Chances are, when he returns to school, which might be very soon, he won't attend our school because we don't have the necessary ways to accommodate him, physically. Right now, I'm his only "teacher" and I'm doing my best. It's not easy and the whole situation is sad. Working with him is slow and tedious and today both his father and his nurse sat and watched me the whole time. I felt like I was performing. But I ignored them and kept going, focusing on my goals - to try to keep his brain engaged and challenge him. He's a smart kid! But I have very few materials that are helpful for success. As in my regular job, I make up a lot of it as I go and I get creative.
But........I'm grateful to have a job that allows me to work with kids and to teach. I love that. And I'm lucky to work with some pretty amazing, smart and creative people. But it's really frustrating sometimes, working in public education. It often feels futile. All the data collecting, the "measurable progress", the strict guidelines we must follow to qualify a child for extra help, even when it's been apparent for YEARS that they really need it. It's crazy, really. But then there are those "small moments" when everything clicks and you see a light go on and you KNOW the kids are learning. Today, I had two of my "newcomer" students working on their sight words. Neither speaks English much at all. One speaks Japanese and one speaks Spanish. But I tried something different today. I had some letter cards I was given recently, so I spread them out all over the table and asked the girls to build their sight words letter by letter. Amazingly, by doing this, they were able to read MORE of the words than ever before. They got more and more excited as they worked. It was pretty awesome to see them realizing that they knew the words. Sure, they also need to know the meaning and how to use them properly in a sentence, but for a few minutes today, they felt successful. So, I felt successful. Win-win!
Monday, November 2, 2015
November 2, little things........
Today I'm thinking about little things. Small acts of kindness that make a big impact. At the school where I teach, we encourage the kids to think about kindnesses and how those don't have to cost money - a gift of friendship, helpfulness, or an expression of gratitude can mean a lot.
In the book "The Five Love Languages" by Gary Chapman, he claims everyone "fits" into one of five categories in the way they give and receive love. They are: words of affirmation, acts of service, receiving gifts, quality time and physical touch. Really, none of those cost money - even receiving gifts can be free (see above).
So, this made me think................
Words of affirmation - how often do we really get those? When was the last time you thanked someone just for being the awesome person they already are? Isn't it amazing to be told you've done a good job or made a difference to someone? Can you take a compliment without adding a "yes, but"? If you THINK it, say it - especially if it's positive. So often we think good thoughts about others but we don't share them.
Acts of service - these don't have to be huge! You can simply do a chore, pick something up off the floor, hold a door or clear someone's plate for them. Sure, you can do something big - mow your neighbor's lawn, help someone around the house, offer your woodworking skills to build a theater set or a wheelchair ramp......but you can also just pitch in without being asked. Simple.
Receiving gifts - who doesn't love a beautifully wrapped present? And the anticipation of finding out what's inside? But even a piece of chocolate left at their desk, or a thoughtfully written card can lift someone's spirits. Handmade gifts come with love and the knowledge that someone thought of you while creating it.
Quality time - this one is pretty big. We're all so busy - who hasn't let friendships fall by the wayside or let the kids indulge in too much screen time because we're just too swamped to deal with everything all at once? Carving out a few hours to spend with friends seems like a huge undertaking these days, but what about an hour for coffee? Or twenty minutes grocery shopping side-by-side with someone you love to talk to? Or 15 minutes of face-to-face interaction away from screens and distractions. A ten-minute walk can do wonders.
Physical touch - if you're a young mom, nursing a baby and juggling a toddler, chances are you're "touched out" - the thought of one more person laying their hands on you is enough to make you scream. But the truth is, too many of us don't receive any physical touch at all during the day. We work side-by-side, but we keep our invisible walls up. Sure, not everyone likes to be hugged, but a pat on the arm or back can be reassuring. This one is tricky - and runs the gamut of personal boundaries, but a hug can relieve stress, lower your blood pressure, alleviate anxiety and they're even good for your heart!
So, maybe tomorrow you can do five things: 1. Say something nice to someone, 2. Do a small act of service (ask yourself, how can I help?), 3. Leave a little something for someone - a note, a piece of candy, a beautiful leaf you found in the parking lot - on their desk, on their pillow, somewhere they will see it, 4. Spend a few minutes with someone you care about. If you only have a short time, ask them how they're doing and really listen. If you have longer, go on a walk or linger over a drink, 5. Hug someone!
Happy Monday!
Sunday, November 1, 2015
November 1, 2015 and gray hair.......
It's National Blog Posting Month (NaNoBloPo) and National Novel Writing Month (NaNoWriMo). A couple of times I've registered for these challenges and failed. Who has time to write 50K words in a month? Who has time to blog every day?
So, this year I'll do something different. I'll SAY I'm going to blog every day, but I won't register for anything and I won't make any promises, so that if I fail, I haven't let anyone down. And, worst case scenario, I crank out a few blog posts, since my blog has been a little quiet lately.
So, why the "gray hair" in the title? Because today I washed away my grays. Except, they didn't all wash away. Damn it. I just did this two weeks ago. This is my life now - every two weeks, I get visible gray, no, WHITE hair at my roots and I have to "do my roots" again. EVERY TWO WEEKS! I'm so sick of this but I'm not ready to embrace my gray. NOT READY AT ALL. I've let it grow a few inches before and.....oh my gosh, it's scary. I mean, I can actually get a glimpse of what I will look like as an old lady and it frightens me. I'm 47. Maybe when I'm over 60 I'll cave to the gray, but not now. I just wish there was something that would prevent this from happening every two weeks. Does my hair really grow that fast? Do the gray roots just resist the color? I can't afford to see my hairdresser that often. I've pretty much stopped going because I have to take care of my roots every two weeks, so what's the point? Even when she does my hair, I see gray in two weeks. I hate it! After I colored, I decided I needed to cut and thin my hair too. Which basically just involves me cutting randomly and dragging the thinning shears through my hair. You can't tell if I did a bad job because my hair is so curly and thick. But you also can't tell if I did a good job because my hair is so curly and thick.
Yesterday was Halloween and we have leftover candy. Which is so bad because I don't even really like candy but since it's RIGHT THERE I've been eating it randomly. I mean, I pretty much never just buy a candy bar. But I'll eat five of the bite-size ones out of the Halloween bucket. Why? They're not even very good. Hopefully the kids will eliminate the excess calories by the end of the week. I'm trying to cut back on sugar but it's hard with all the candy, the soda we were gifted when we got "Boo-ed" the other night, and the SIX varieties of ice cream my husband bought when he went to the store for ONE half-gallon of vanilla because "it was one sale" (trust me, it was not a great sale).
Today was daylight savings time (FALL BACK!) so I got an extra hour of sleep, I guess. Except I got up at 5:30 a.m....on the one day I could sleep in. I put away all the Halloween decorations, put a roast in the crock pot, did all my laundry, planned (in detail) an upcoming trip, put up all the Thanksgiving decorations, dusted, and gave away stuff on my Buy Nothing site. It feels like 9 p.m. but it's only 6. And, true to form, I started panicking about the holidays. I mean, Thanksgiving is only four weeks away and Christmas is like one minute after that, so it's time to panic, right?
Planning holidays with older kids is tough. Everyone drives, has a job, lives their own life. It took us almost the whole month of October to plan a short trip to the pumpkin patch. We spent $70 on pumpkins we didn't even carve! What was the point? Thanksgiving is tough because, since we're a blended family, we have three households to consider. I booked a plane ticket for one kid to spend Thanksgiving with her mom, and figured the other three kids would be spending the holiday with their dad and his fiancee at their new house. This might actually be the first Thanksgiving I really do have tacos for dinner, since it will just be Jeff and I, and we can do whatever we want. We can't leave town because he's on call for work, so it might just be really low-key. It's bittersweet because there's nothing I love more than a big family Thanksgiving, but I won't miss the big family dinner because I'll just do it the weekend before.
Christmas is fun, but also a nightmare of logistics. Plus, every year I think we'll do something "different" and every year I end up buying too much, and it's all over in a matter of minutes. I much prefer all the fun activities leading up to Christmas. It's the "stuff" that gets me. Recently, all of my kids have produced boxes of "giveaway" items that included unopened Christmas gifts. How much do they really need? I think the whole holiday needs a major overhaul, especially as the kids get older. But what changes should I make?
These are the things on my mind on November 1. We'll see what the week brings!
So, this year I'll do something different. I'll SAY I'm going to blog every day, but I won't register for anything and I won't make any promises, so that if I fail, I haven't let anyone down. And, worst case scenario, I crank out a few blog posts, since my blog has been a little quiet lately.
So, why the "gray hair" in the title? Because today I washed away my grays. Except, they didn't all wash away. Damn it. I just did this two weeks ago. This is my life now - every two weeks, I get visible gray, no, WHITE hair at my roots and I have to "do my roots" again. EVERY TWO WEEKS! I'm so sick of this but I'm not ready to embrace my gray. NOT READY AT ALL. I've let it grow a few inches before and.....oh my gosh, it's scary. I mean, I can actually get a glimpse of what I will look like as an old lady and it frightens me. I'm 47. Maybe when I'm over 60 I'll cave to the gray, but not now. I just wish there was something that would prevent this from happening every two weeks. Does my hair really grow that fast? Do the gray roots just resist the color? I can't afford to see my hairdresser that often. I've pretty much stopped going because I have to take care of my roots every two weeks, so what's the point? Even when she does my hair, I see gray in two weeks. I hate it! After I colored, I decided I needed to cut and thin my hair too. Which basically just involves me cutting randomly and dragging the thinning shears through my hair. You can't tell if I did a bad job because my hair is so curly and thick. But you also can't tell if I did a good job because my hair is so curly and thick.
Yesterday was Halloween and we have leftover candy. Which is so bad because I don't even really like candy but since it's RIGHT THERE I've been eating it randomly. I mean, I pretty much never just buy a candy bar. But I'll eat five of the bite-size ones out of the Halloween bucket. Why? They're not even very good. Hopefully the kids will eliminate the excess calories by the end of the week. I'm trying to cut back on sugar but it's hard with all the candy, the soda we were gifted when we got "Boo-ed" the other night, and the SIX varieties of ice cream my husband bought when he went to the store for ONE half-gallon of vanilla because "it was one sale" (trust me, it was not a great sale).
Today was daylight savings time (FALL BACK!) so I got an extra hour of sleep, I guess. Except I got up at 5:30 a.m....on the one day I could sleep in. I put away all the Halloween decorations, put a roast in the crock pot, did all my laundry, planned (in detail) an upcoming trip, put up all the Thanksgiving decorations, dusted, and gave away stuff on my Buy Nothing site. It feels like 9 p.m. but it's only 6. And, true to form, I started panicking about the holidays. I mean, Thanksgiving is only four weeks away and Christmas is like one minute after that, so it's time to panic, right?
Planning holidays with older kids is tough. Everyone drives, has a job, lives their own life. It took us almost the whole month of October to plan a short trip to the pumpkin patch. We spent $70 on pumpkins we didn't even carve! What was the point? Thanksgiving is tough because, since we're a blended family, we have three households to consider. I booked a plane ticket for one kid to spend Thanksgiving with her mom, and figured the other three kids would be spending the holiday with their dad and his fiancee at their new house. This might actually be the first Thanksgiving I really do have tacos for dinner, since it will just be Jeff and I, and we can do whatever we want. We can't leave town because he's on call for work, so it might just be really low-key. It's bittersweet because there's nothing I love more than a big family Thanksgiving, but I won't miss the big family dinner because I'll just do it the weekend before.
Christmas is fun, but also a nightmare of logistics. Plus, every year I think we'll do something "different" and every year I end up buying too much, and it's all over in a matter of minutes. I much prefer all the fun activities leading up to Christmas. It's the "stuff" that gets me. Recently, all of my kids have produced boxes of "giveaway" items that included unopened Christmas gifts. How much do they really need? I think the whole holiday needs a major overhaul, especially as the kids get older. But what changes should I make?
These are the things on my mind on November 1. We'll see what the week brings!
Monday, October 26, 2015
Damn you, Monday!
Today started out dicey because I didn't sleep well at all last night so I was worried I'd be tired all day. And I did yawn at a few inappropriate times, but mostly I got through my workday without a hitch. Except, of course, I stayed late, like I do almost every day because my last class is scheduled till 12:45 and I am expected to leave at 12:45 as well. And there's no time to finish up, put things away, gather my things, etc. So, most every day I stay 15 minutes to a half hour late.
But, no worries, because I still had plenty of time to go to the store. Which I swore I was not going to do this week because we're "snug" (I heard that term the other day and thought it was hilarious - not "tight" but "snug"). But I went anyway because I needed some things for dinner and also because I'm on staff room duty and I need to bring treats each day this week. More on that later.
The shopping trip took me almost two hours! That was just to go to two stores that are right next to each other. Granted, I don't shop there all the time, so it takes longer to find things, but UGH! Why does shopping take so long?
After shopping I had to pick up a few things from my Buy Nothing friends. I REALLY just wanted to drive home and put away the groceries and get started on dinner, but I knew I couldn't put my pick ups off any longer.
So, I got home with my car load of groceries and saw my son's car in the driveway. YAY, I thought, grocery help! But, alas, no. I came in the house and was greeted by silence which I took to mean he was napping. How lovely to be afforded the luxury of napping in the middle of the day. I carried in all the groceries myself. AND put them away. Much later, my son appeared. I asked "What were you doing?" to which he replied "Chilling." Oh.
Then, the putting away of groceries took 45 minutes. I then proceeded to mix up a fall trail mix for staff room treats for Friday (when I won't be there to put something out so I needed something easy and ready for someone else to put out). I scooped the mix into 60 or so individual Halloween-themed bags. I stopped only long enough to look up a recipe and immediately started chopping veggies for dinner. I whipped up a broccoli/cauliflower/cheese soup and made crescent rolls. Bless the beautiful soul who invented biscuits in a can. Not only are they so easy and convenient, but I truly enjoy whomping the container on the counter to open them, thereby letting off a little pent-up steam after a long Monday.
While dinner was cooking, I attempted to make a treat for tomorrow. I found "break and bake" cookies at the store in apple spice. That sounded kind of ick to me, but I got the brilliant idea to push a caramel on top of each cookie before baking. Not so brilliant. The cookies came out GLUED to the cookie sheet and no amount of chiseling would free them. I hacked away at them and finally used scalding hot water to release the caramel glue. (Side note, yesterday's attempt at "mini caramel apples" was also a disaster as the caramel cooled and hardened too quickly and melted off the apple balls). Clearly, I should never use Kraft caramels. I still had a package of cookie dough left so I cooked them according to the package directions, left out the caramel centers and arranged the cooled cookies on a Halloween plate sprinkled with the leftover, unmelted caramels.
I had big plans for making up themed treats each day during my staff room week. It's only Monday and I'm already resorting to break and bake cookies. This is a metaphor for my life.
Big surprise - no one helped clean up from dinner OR did the dishes. So, I started that process and was busy running around the kitchen when I heard the dog go upstairs. I'm always suspicious of her exits from the room - they usually mean something bad has happened. I turned around to find a LAKE of dog pee on the kitchen floor - directly below my feet! How in the world did a 55 lb dog pee several gallons on the floor under my feet and not only did I not see anything, I didn't hear anything, either? She just unloaded and quietly went upstairs to wait out the impending wrath.
I used half a roll of paper towels attempting to sop it all up, but that was inadequate, and for some reason, all of my "dog towels" have disappeared, so I got the mop. I mopped up the floor with hot water and Pine-Sol and realized that my mop sucks and I need a new one. For one thing, it barely wrings so that after I was done, the floor was still sopping. I used some more paper towels to try to wipe up the excess water and waited for the floor to dry while still attempting to clean up the kitchen.
I needed a Halloween plate for the cookies, so I went into the living room where I had a few displayed on the coffee table. As I carried it into the kitchen, I tripped on the FULL dish of dog water and sent it cascading across the kitchen floor, it's volume exceeding even the gallons of dog piss I had JUST mopped up. I had already used up my paper towels and I lamented (loudly) that we didn't have any dog towels to use. My husband suggested I just get some dirty towels from the laundry so I ran upstairs shouting "I'm so f**ing tired of this sh*t. I just want to take a shower and relax already! I've had to poop for two hours now!" Which was true. I know, right? Not even time to poop.
I soaked up the dog water and the rug was wet so of course I decided that it needed to be washed as did all the other kitchen rugs so I bundled them all into a pile to take upstairs. I tossed them in the wash and FINALLY got my shower.
The dishes still aren't done. I did manage to put the food away. After my shower, I went downstairs, got some milk and cookies, my computer and my phone and retreated to bed. I don't care if it's only 8 p.m. I'm so done with Monday!
P.S. My dog is kicking around her water dish which is her way of telling me she's thirsty. Guess who's not getting her dish filled? Payback's a bitch, Georgette. Swallow your spit.
But, no worries, because I still had plenty of time to go to the store. Which I swore I was not going to do this week because we're "snug" (I heard that term the other day and thought it was hilarious - not "tight" but "snug"). But I went anyway because I needed some things for dinner and also because I'm on staff room duty and I need to bring treats each day this week. More on that later.
The shopping trip took me almost two hours! That was just to go to two stores that are right next to each other. Granted, I don't shop there all the time, so it takes longer to find things, but UGH! Why does shopping take so long?
After shopping I had to pick up a few things from my Buy Nothing friends. I REALLY just wanted to drive home and put away the groceries and get started on dinner, but I knew I couldn't put my pick ups off any longer.
So, I got home with my car load of groceries and saw my son's car in the driveway. YAY, I thought, grocery help! But, alas, no. I came in the house and was greeted by silence which I took to mean he was napping. How lovely to be afforded the luxury of napping in the middle of the day. I carried in all the groceries myself. AND put them away. Much later, my son appeared. I asked "What were you doing?" to which he replied "Chilling." Oh.
Then, the putting away of groceries took 45 minutes. I then proceeded to mix up a fall trail mix for staff room treats for Friday (when I won't be there to put something out so I needed something easy and ready for someone else to put out). I scooped the mix into 60 or so individual Halloween-themed bags. I stopped only long enough to look up a recipe and immediately started chopping veggies for dinner. I whipped up a broccoli/cauliflower/cheese soup and made crescent rolls. Bless the beautiful soul who invented biscuits in a can. Not only are they so easy and convenient, but I truly enjoy whomping the container on the counter to open them, thereby letting off a little pent-up steam after a long Monday.
While dinner was cooking, I attempted to make a treat for tomorrow. I found "break and bake" cookies at the store in apple spice. That sounded kind of ick to me, but I got the brilliant idea to push a caramel on top of each cookie before baking. Not so brilliant. The cookies came out GLUED to the cookie sheet and no amount of chiseling would free them. I hacked away at them and finally used scalding hot water to release the caramel glue. (Side note, yesterday's attempt at "mini caramel apples" was also a disaster as the caramel cooled and hardened too quickly and melted off the apple balls). Clearly, I should never use Kraft caramels. I still had a package of cookie dough left so I cooked them according to the package directions, left out the caramel centers and arranged the cooled cookies on a Halloween plate sprinkled with the leftover, unmelted caramels.
I had big plans for making up themed treats each day during my staff room week. It's only Monday and I'm already resorting to break and bake cookies. This is a metaphor for my life.
Big surprise - no one helped clean up from dinner OR did the dishes. So, I started that process and was busy running around the kitchen when I heard the dog go upstairs. I'm always suspicious of her exits from the room - they usually mean something bad has happened. I turned around to find a LAKE of dog pee on the kitchen floor - directly below my feet! How in the world did a 55 lb dog pee several gallons on the floor under my feet and not only did I not see anything, I didn't hear anything, either? She just unloaded and quietly went upstairs to wait out the impending wrath.
I used half a roll of paper towels attempting to sop it all up, but that was inadequate, and for some reason, all of my "dog towels" have disappeared, so I got the mop. I mopped up the floor with hot water and Pine-Sol and realized that my mop sucks and I need a new one. For one thing, it barely wrings so that after I was done, the floor was still sopping. I used some more paper towels to try to wipe up the excess water and waited for the floor to dry while still attempting to clean up the kitchen.
I needed a Halloween plate for the cookies, so I went into the living room where I had a few displayed on the coffee table. As I carried it into the kitchen, I tripped on the FULL dish of dog water and sent it cascading across the kitchen floor, it's volume exceeding even the gallons of dog piss I had JUST mopped up. I had already used up my paper towels and I lamented (loudly) that we didn't have any dog towels to use. My husband suggested I just get some dirty towels from the laundry so I ran upstairs shouting "I'm so f**ing tired of this sh*t. I just want to take a shower and relax already! I've had to poop for two hours now!" Which was true. I know, right? Not even time to poop.
I soaked up the dog water and the rug was wet so of course I decided that it needed to be washed as did all the other kitchen rugs so I bundled them all into a pile to take upstairs. I tossed them in the wash and FINALLY got my shower.
The dishes still aren't done. I did manage to put the food away. After my shower, I went downstairs, got some milk and cookies, my computer and my phone and retreated to bed. I don't care if it's only 8 p.m. I'm so done with Monday!
P.S. My dog is kicking around her water dish which is her way of telling me she's thirsty. Guess who's not getting her dish filled? Payback's a bitch, Georgette. Swallow your spit.
Sunday, October 18, 2015
An adventure with Mountain Man...
Today I went on an adventure with Mountain Man. About once a month, Jeff goes to the woods, to his "hunting spot," and moves his game camera around. He enjoys keeping track of the game in this area, and the pictures prove that a bear, several deer, a coyote and a mountain lion live in the area. The mountain lion was actually strolling along the road while Jeff rode his mountain bike. It paused long enough for him to take a picture! So, naturally, I'm not thrilled with the fact that Jeff goes into the woods alone, to face nature, and possibly have that beautiful face eaten off by a bear.
I've often contemplated joining him, but the trip involves driving to a certain point, getting on a bike and riding to another area, then hiking down a steep incline and wading across a creek to retrieve the game camera, collect the SD card to check out the pictures, re-load the camera with a new card, and move it to a new area. I'm not super excited about strenuous exercise, getting muddy and wet, and possibly meeting wildlife, so this trip has been a solo adventure for Jeff, while I usually stay at home and while away the hours on social media.
But not today! Today I decided I was going to come along. At first, I was all in - I was up for the whole adventure. But then I started to second-guess myself in the "strenuous exercise" category, so I suggested perhaps I'd accompany him on the drive, sit in the car and read a book, and keep him company on the way home.
Lame.
I know I need to challenge myself - what's life about if we're not constantly challenging ourselves and trying new things? So, this morning I decided I'd go all in again. Jeff pumped up the tires on my 25-year-old mountain bike and we were off! We drove to the gate - the beginning of the private property where Jeff hunts. We pushed our bikes under the gate, climbed around the edges, and proceeded to push our bikes up a steep hill that went on for about a quarter mile. Did I mention I'm not a fan of exercise? Especially the first ten minutes of any exercise. I feel like I'm doing to die and I hate everything. So, this was about the same reaction I had today. I pushed my bike, took breaks while sucking air, and wondered when we'd see flat road again. Finally, we were able to start riding and I quickly remembered how hard it is for me to shift gears while riding a bike. My thighs were burning. My camera was hanging off my shoulder and swinging uncomfortably. I stopped several times to adjust things and catch my breath. I had to reacquaint myself with the pain of my ample butt on a bike seat, and the difficulty of riding on a gravel road with potholes.
We finally made it to the game trail just after we spotted "the biggest bear shit I've ever seen" according to Jeff.
The biggest bear shit in the woods. Proof, however, that a bear does, indeed, shit in the woods.
How Jeff knew exactly where to stop along a road in the woods where everything looked the same is beyond me. But he stopped at the game trail and we made our way down the steep incline to the creek bottom. At this point, Jeff warned me not to fall and break my leg, citing the fact that he would have to leave me alone and in pain while he trekked the 3.5 miles back to the car to call for help. After seeing that giant (and seemingly fresh) pile of bear poop, the thought of being left, alone and injured, in the woods while it was raining, was enough to make me be very sure of my footing. We got to the creek and waded across.
Thanks, Aunt Carol, for the cool rain boots!
The game camera was strapped to a tree across the creek where Jeff thought game might travel. Previously, in a different location nearby, the camera took pictures of a large bear, a coyote, and some deer. This time, the camera only caught a couple of deer on two different days. Jeff decided to move the camera to the other side of the creek across from the game trail.
Leaves floating in the creek - it was so cool to stand in the creek in my new rain boots!
I mean, look at that view! Nothing but peaceful creek and birds chirping.
We hiked back up the trail to the new location. Jeff chose the tree, strapped the game camera to it, and adjusted it with the laser so it would catch animals going down to the creek for water. In the meantime, of course, I took some selfies.
Hard to believe I actually put on makeup and straightened my bangs before this trip. Duh.
Look how happy I am to be in nature!
The face of someone who just rode 3.5 miles in the rain. Stunning.
While Jeff worked the camera, I enjoyed the scenery. There really is nothing quite as lovely as a rainy, mossy wood on a fall day.
Peaceful.
Delicate.
Mossy.
Ferny.
Symbiotic.
Sluggy.
Licheny.
Bloody.
I poked my finger on a thorn on the way up the trail and so I had a brief "Lord of the Flies" moment where I smeared blood war paint on my face. Sorry.
Mountain Man worked expertly, placing the camera, cutting away branches that were in the way. being careful not to fall in a gaping hole in the earth, and laughing at me when I gasped "Did you hear that?" when a branch snapped nearby.
Changing locations.
Choosing the new location.
Mostly, though, he exhibited patience. With me. He's clearly the more experienced one riding a mountain bike. He has way more stamina. But he stopped several times and waited patiently while I adjusted, gasped, and took breaks on the way up the trail. He calmly helped me down the trail to the creek bottom. He held my hand as I waded across the creek. He answered my questions about anything and everything. A trip that could have taken him a couple of hours took much longer with me by his side, But he allowed me to have a fun adventure and do something totally out of my comfort zone without making me feel like I was holding him back. By the time we headed back down the hill, I rode a little faster than I'm comfortable with, down steep hills and over thick piles of leaves, and I loved it.
Not a day goes by that I don't realize how lucky I am to have this Mountain Man. We may be opposites, and I have a hard time understanding his obsession with the woods, hunting and all things primitive, but I can sort of understand the way the woods breathe life into you and the peaceful feeling that comes from being in a quiet place with just the sounds of nature all around. It's pretty cool. He's pretty cool.
I'm still worried about the bear, though.
Thursday, October 8, 2015
When your kids grow up faster than you.........
Yes, it's October. Yes, I last blogged in May. I guess this is what you call "writer's block". I find it hard to believe a whole summer passed, where I had hours of free time, and I did not blog even once. What was I doing all that time? I feel like I had a fun and productive summer, was busy, accomplished things......and yet, not a single blog entry. Yet, every time I committed myself to writing I got......nothing. It's not that there was nothing going on, or that I truly had nothing to write about, but I just couldn't make those "somethings" into a blog post. I can't explain it. But, here I am again, and I got an inspiration, and so I'm writing about it.
It really sucks when your kids grow up faster than you. I mean, I'm still a young mom (in my mind) and I still want to do all the fun "young mom" things with my kids. For instance, it's October and pumpkin patches are open and ready for fall fun! And we've been trying for a couple of weeks to find a time when all of us are free to take our annual trip to the pumpkin patch. Last year, we, quite literally, managed to squeeze out ONE hour of time when we could all be physically present at a local pumpkin patch. We took pictures, selected pumpkins, petted animals, and then the oldest child scurried off to work. This year, we've attempted a group text to keep up with who is available when, and so far, no dice. The oldest works varying shifts, so it's really a crap shoot if she'll be available at any given time. The second oldest goes to school three nights a week and works during the day. The next kid works a few nights a week, every weekend day, and goes to school during the day. The youngest works varying shifts, usually nights and weekends and goes to school during the day.
Last weekend, it was gorgeous and sunny and perfect for a pumpkin patch field trip. But my husband was on a hunting trip. For two days, I looked at the gorgeous fall colors and sunshine and longed for a trip of days gone by, when the whole family was under MY control, and we went to the pumpkin patch when I said so. Long gone are the days of mom being in charge. Now, everyone drives, has jobs and school and, truth be told, I don't even know where my kids are half the time! I never know who's going to be home for dinner (so I don't make dinner every night anymore) and sometimes I realize hours have gone by and I have no clue where my kids are, if they should be home, if I should be worried.
It seems so simple - a family outing. But it's NOT. Not anymore, and it's only going to get worse. Of course, I realize that the time will come (terrifyingly fast) when the kids will be on their own, with their own families, maybe not even living in close proximity. They might not come for Christmas or Thanksgiving. They'll go to Disneyland and on other vacations without me and I'll have to be satisfied with looking at pictures on social media and living vicariously through images. Sure, it's the circle of life. It's normal. But it sucks.
I still want to make caramel apples, and Halloween crafts, and decorate pumpkin cookies. I still want to dress them up and take them trick-or-treating. But they're "too old" for that. And who decides that anyway? The other day, daughter #3 asked me if we could have two bowls of candy this Halloween - one to give out to trick-or-treaters and one for the kids to eat while they're standing on the other side of the door, handing out treats. And why not? Wasn't that one of the most delightful parts of Halloween? Who doesn't love candy?
I broke out the Halloween decorations last weekend. I've been sick, so decorating has happened slowly, over several days. When the kids were little, I'd decorate the whole house all at once, while they were at school, so they could come home to the wonderland of whatever holiday was upcoming. As I looked through the Halloween decor, I realized so much of it was purchased haphazardly - these from the dollar store, this one from the craft store. Still others were homemade, but had seen better days. I made up a box of decorations I was ready to pass on and gave them to my oldest for her apartment. I really didn't have much sentimental attachment to many of the items. Some, like "Cauldron" have stories that make me cherish them, even though they are plastic icons of a commercial holiday. When my youngest was three, we stopped in a craft store to pick up a few Halloween supplies, likely for a school party. He spotted "Cauldron" - a black, plastic cauldron with fabric "flames" and an orange light that, when turned on, mimicked a flaming witch's cauldron. He was so transfixed with it that I shelled out the $16.99 for it. On the way home, he buckled it into its own seat belt and proceeded to tell it stories all the way home, always addressing it as "Cauldron". How can I NOT treasure that silly thing?
At work, I signed up to bring treats the week of Halloween, I chose that week specifically because I knew it would be a great excuse to make up all those themed treats I used to make when the kids were little. Sure, I might not be room mom at an elementary school party this year, but I can replicate it at the elementary school where I teach! And, even with those good intentions, I know the week will creep up on me, I'll be busy and tired, and all my Pinterest-worthy dreams of Halloween treat magnificence will fly out the window like a witch on a broomstick as I pick up chips and dip on my way to work in the morning.
I do realize there is a beacon of hope on the horizon. Grandkids! Surely some day, with four kids of my own, I will be delivered a couple of bouncing grandchildren. I will be able to relive the glory days of holidays with children all over again, make the messes, do the crafts, and then send them home so I can nap off a productive afternoon. But for now? It's the dark years. The dreaded time when your own kids are too old, or too busy, or just plain uninterested, in doing the holidays up like you used to, The chasm between busy mom and a mom with too much time on her hands, just waiting for the hands of time to click on the magical hour of grandparenthood. For now, I relish the time with my great-niece and nephews to get my "kid fix" but they live too far away.
So, whether we make it to the pumpkin patch or we take five minutes to take a quick family picture next to a gorgeous fall tree in a parking lot (if we can find five collaborative minutes to actually meet somewhere), Halloween will come and go. Thanksgiving will creep up, with its usual awkwardness of who's going to eat at which parent's house, and whether the other parent should make a big dinner if no one's going to be there. Christmas will come and we'll have long dispensed with our detailed list of "must do's" - watch Christmas movies, make cookies, drive around to see Christmas lights, go see a holiday show. Our long-standing tradition of dollar store shopping for each other has given way to kids with jobs and bigger bank accounts, therefore bigger presents. We'll face the pumpkin patch dilemma all over again when we try to find a time to get together to take Christmas card photos. Then again, last year, exasperated, I just asked everyone to send me their best selfie. We dispensed with the forced living-room session in bad lighting, me getting more irritated by the minute as the kids goofed around and no one looked at the camera. As much as I love my pictures, especially the rare photo of us all together, I love the memories more. Capturing them on film is just a bonus.
So, maybe we won't make it to the pumpkin patch together this year. Maybe, as in some years past, I'll just take the kids to the grocery store to pick out pumpkins and then hold an impromptu carving session at home. I don't even like carving pumpkins. Spending good money on a gourd just to carve it up and watch it mold on the front steps seems so inane to me. But I do it anyway, because it's TRADITION! And who am I to buck tradition?
Sometimes, new traditions need to be made. Or old traditions tossed. As much as I hate it, I'm not in control anymore. Truly, I never was. Life unfolds and spreads out like a pumpkin vine and people grow up and go their own ways. And there's not a thing I can do about it. Except enjoy every blessed minute.
It really sucks when your kids grow up faster than you. I mean, I'm still a young mom (in my mind) and I still want to do all the fun "young mom" things with my kids. For instance, it's October and pumpkin patches are open and ready for fall fun! And we've been trying for a couple of weeks to find a time when all of us are free to take our annual trip to the pumpkin patch. Last year, we, quite literally, managed to squeeze out ONE hour of time when we could all be physically present at a local pumpkin patch. We took pictures, selected pumpkins, petted animals, and then the oldest child scurried off to work. This year, we've attempted a group text to keep up with who is available when, and so far, no dice. The oldest works varying shifts, so it's really a crap shoot if she'll be available at any given time. The second oldest goes to school three nights a week and works during the day. The next kid works a few nights a week, every weekend day, and goes to school during the day. The youngest works varying shifts, usually nights and weekends and goes to school during the day.
Last weekend, it was gorgeous and sunny and perfect for a pumpkin patch field trip. But my husband was on a hunting trip. For two days, I looked at the gorgeous fall colors and sunshine and longed for a trip of days gone by, when the whole family was under MY control, and we went to the pumpkin patch when I said so. Long gone are the days of mom being in charge. Now, everyone drives, has jobs and school and, truth be told, I don't even know where my kids are half the time! I never know who's going to be home for dinner (so I don't make dinner every night anymore) and sometimes I realize hours have gone by and I have no clue where my kids are, if they should be home, if I should be worried.
It seems so simple - a family outing. But it's NOT. Not anymore, and it's only going to get worse. Of course, I realize that the time will come (terrifyingly fast) when the kids will be on their own, with their own families, maybe not even living in close proximity. They might not come for Christmas or Thanksgiving. They'll go to Disneyland and on other vacations without me and I'll have to be satisfied with looking at pictures on social media and living vicariously through images. Sure, it's the circle of life. It's normal. But it sucks.
I still want to make caramel apples, and Halloween crafts, and decorate pumpkin cookies. I still want to dress them up and take them trick-or-treating. But they're "too old" for that. And who decides that anyway? The other day, daughter #3 asked me if we could have two bowls of candy this Halloween - one to give out to trick-or-treaters and one for the kids to eat while they're standing on the other side of the door, handing out treats. And why not? Wasn't that one of the most delightful parts of Halloween? Who doesn't love candy?
I broke out the Halloween decorations last weekend. I've been sick, so decorating has happened slowly, over several days. When the kids were little, I'd decorate the whole house all at once, while they were at school, so they could come home to the wonderland of whatever holiday was upcoming. As I looked through the Halloween decor, I realized so much of it was purchased haphazardly - these from the dollar store, this one from the craft store. Still others were homemade, but had seen better days. I made up a box of decorations I was ready to pass on and gave them to my oldest for her apartment. I really didn't have much sentimental attachment to many of the items. Some, like "Cauldron" have stories that make me cherish them, even though they are plastic icons of a commercial holiday. When my youngest was three, we stopped in a craft store to pick up a few Halloween supplies, likely for a school party. He spotted "Cauldron" - a black, plastic cauldron with fabric "flames" and an orange light that, when turned on, mimicked a flaming witch's cauldron. He was so transfixed with it that I shelled out the $16.99 for it. On the way home, he buckled it into its own seat belt and proceeded to tell it stories all the way home, always addressing it as "Cauldron". How can I NOT treasure that silly thing?
At work, I signed up to bring treats the week of Halloween, I chose that week specifically because I knew it would be a great excuse to make up all those themed treats I used to make when the kids were little. Sure, I might not be room mom at an elementary school party this year, but I can replicate it at the elementary school where I teach! And, even with those good intentions, I know the week will creep up on me, I'll be busy and tired, and all my Pinterest-worthy dreams of Halloween treat magnificence will fly out the window like a witch on a broomstick as I pick up chips and dip on my way to work in the morning.
I do realize there is a beacon of hope on the horizon. Grandkids! Surely some day, with four kids of my own, I will be delivered a couple of bouncing grandchildren. I will be able to relive the glory days of holidays with children all over again, make the messes, do the crafts, and then send them home so I can nap off a productive afternoon. But for now? It's the dark years. The dreaded time when your own kids are too old, or too busy, or just plain uninterested, in doing the holidays up like you used to, The chasm between busy mom and a mom with too much time on her hands, just waiting for the hands of time to click on the magical hour of grandparenthood. For now, I relish the time with my great-niece and nephews to get my "kid fix" but they live too far away.
So, whether we make it to the pumpkin patch or we take five minutes to take a quick family picture next to a gorgeous fall tree in a parking lot (if we can find five collaborative minutes to actually meet somewhere), Halloween will come and go. Thanksgiving will creep up, with its usual awkwardness of who's going to eat at which parent's house, and whether the other parent should make a big dinner if no one's going to be there. Christmas will come and we'll have long dispensed with our detailed list of "must do's" - watch Christmas movies, make cookies, drive around to see Christmas lights, go see a holiday show. Our long-standing tradition of dollar store shopping for each other has given way to kids with jobs and bigger bank accounts, therefore bigger presents. We'll face the pumpkin patch dilemma all over again when we try to find a time to get together to take Christmas card photos. Then again, last year, exasperated, I just asked everyone to send me their best selfie. We dispensed with the forced living-room session in bad lighting, me getting more irritated by the minute as the kids goofed around and no one looked at the camera. As much as I love my pictures, especially the rare photo of us all together, I love the memories more. Capturing them on film is just a bonus.
So, maybe we won't make it to the pumpkin patch together this year. Maybe, as in some years past, I'll just take the kids to the grocery store to pick out pumpkins and then hold an impromptu carving session at home. I don't even like carving pumpkins. Spending good money on a gourd just to carve it up and watch it mold on the front steps seems so inane to me. But I do it anyway, because it's TRADITION! And who am I to buck tradition?
Sometimes, new traditions need to be made. Or old traditions tossed. As much as I hate it, I'm not in control anymore. Truly, I never was. Life unfolds and spreads out like a pumpkin vine and people grow up and go their own ways. And there's not a thing I can do about it. Except enjoy every blessed minute.
Tuesday, May 5, 2015
What I really want for Mother's day..........
I've seen all sorts of posts about the best things to get your mom for mother's day recently. A lot of them appear to be written by moms of young children because they go along the lines of "no, I don't want to take the family to the beach because it's too much work for me" and while I totally appreciate that, I took my family to the beach last Mother's day and it was awesome.
I'm not one for the fancy brunch with mimosas. I'd much rather be served Starbucks in bed (forget about eggs and bacon, bring me sour cream walnut coffee cake from Tully's). I don't really want to go out to an expensive dinner, either. Feast night works great for me - nothing like grazing over an assortment of treats!
I could care less about gadgets and appliances. I already have some awesome purses. I pretty much buy whatever clothes and shoes I want throughout the year, and I have a closet full. But I love gifts from the heart - a sketch, a painting, a scrapbook, a song, a poem. I know moms are supposed to say that, but I actually DO love handmade gifts, or a gift of talent and time.
But a mom can dream, right? So, here's a list of things that I (and probably any mom) would LOVE for Mother's day:
1. For someone to do the dishes just because they are piled high in the sink. And by "do" them, I mean take initiative and load and unload the dishwasher without being asked and/or without rolling eyes or groaning when being asked.
2. For someone to vacuum at least a couple of times a week instead of twice a month, and not only when the dog hair tumbleweeds are the size of grapefruit.
3. For someone to do the grocery shopping. Forever.
4. For someone besides myself and my husband to cook a meal. If, for any other reason, to prove to us that our kids can and will survive outside the household and be able to make a meal with more than one course.
5. For someone to bring me Starbucks every day. My ass will protest, but yum!
6. For someone to take out the garbage before it's tumbling over.
7. For fresh chocolate chip cookies every day, pizza once a week, and for them to not have any calories.
8. For someone to bring me fresh Gerber daisies weekly.
9. For someone to cook dinner. Forever.
10. For a fancy vacation once a year and several less-fancy vacations the rest of the year.
And while some of those things are do-able, and some are just plain crazy, I have to say I'm pretty darn happy with things just the way they are.
I love my home - it's messy and chaotic but it's full of things we love and people I treasure. I love it when all four kids are home and everyone is just doing their thing, but we're all in the same room and it's just average and normal. Because, to me, it's everything.
I love it when my kids are hanging out and we're all crafting, or creating, or the kids are having a jam session and I hear music and voices and laughter. That's the best sound.
I love how ridiculous my family is at times. The silly videos, pictures, funny things said, forever recorded on social media. Not necessarily for others' entertainment but so we can look back and laugh at ourselves in the future.
I love road trips with my kids. The car is always trashed. We never get anywhere on time. But we have tons of time to talk and watch the world go by. Or not talk and watch the world go by. Either way, it's ok.
So, when it comes to what I "want" for Mother's day, the answer is usually the same. A day spent with my kids, usually at a beach, hanging out, eating snacks and relaxing. No agenda. No big plans. No spa day with fluffy towels and "me time". Sure, that's fun, but maybe another day.
On Mother's day I want to celebrate with the ones who made me a mother. The first born, who fulfilled my lifelong dream of being a mom. The second born, who showed me it was possible to love another child, not "as much" but wholly and completely, just like the first time. The third born, who showed me how to relax and enjoy this fleeting thing called mothering, because he was my last baby. Then, the bonus daughter who showed me mother love wasn't limited by biology and completed our family.
How lucky am I?
I'm not one for the fancy brunch with mimosas. I'd much rather be served Starbucks in bed (forget about eggs and bacon, bring me sour cream walnut coffee cake from Tully's). I don't really want to go out to an expensive dinner, either. Feast night works great for me - nothing like grazing over an assortment of treats!
I could care less about gadgets and appliances. I already have some awesome purses. I pretty much buy whatever clothes and shoes I want throughout the year, and I have a closet full. But I love gifts from the heart - a sketch, a painting, a scrapbook, a song, a poem. I know moms are supposed to say that, but I actually DO love handmade gifts, or a gift of talent and time.
But a mom can dream, right? So, here's a list of things that I (and probably any mom) would LOVE for Mother's day:
1. For someone to do the dishes just because they are piled high in the sink. And by "do" them, I mean take initiative and load and unload the dishwasher without being asked and/or without rolling eyes or groaning when being asked.
2. For someone to vacuum at least a couple of times a week instead of twice a month, and not only when the dog hair tumbleweeds are the size of grapefruit.
3. For someone to do the grocery shopping. Forever.
4. For someone besides myself and my husband to cook a meal. If, for any other reason, to prove to us that our kids can and will survive outside the household and be able to make a meal with more than one course.
5. For someone to bring me Starbucks every day. My ass will protest, but yum!
6. For someone to take out the garbage before it's tumbling over.
7. For fresh chocolate chip cookies every day, pizza once a week, and for them to not have any calories.
8. For someone to bring me fresh Gerber daisies weekly.
9. For someone to cook dinner. Forever.
10. For a fancy vacation once a year and several less-fancy vacations the rest of the year.
And while some of those things are do-able, and some are just plain crazy, I have to say I'm pretty darn happy with things just the way they are.
I love my home - it's messy and chaotic but it's full of things we love and people I treasure. I love it when all four kids are home and everyone is just doing their thing, but we're all in the same room and it's just average and normal. Because, to me, it's everything.
I love it when my kids are hanging out and we're all crafting, or creating, or the kids are having a jam session and I hear music and voices and laughter. That's the best sound.
I love how ridiculous my family is at times. The silly videos, pictures, funny things said, forever recorded on social media. Not necessarily for others' entertainment but so we can look back and laugh at ourselves in the future.
I love road trips with my kids. The car is always trashed. We never get anywhere on time. But we have tons of time to talk and watch the world go by. Or not talk and watch the world go by. Either way, it's ok.
So, when it comes to what I "want" for Mother's day, the answer is usually the same. A day spent with my kids, usually at a beach, hanging out, eating snacks and relaxing. No agenda. No big plans. No spa day with fluffy towels and "me time". Sure, that's fun, but maybe another day.
On Mother's day I want to celebrate with the ones who made me a mother. The first born, who fulfilled my lifelong dream of being a mom. The second born, who showed me it was possible to love another child, not "as much" but wholly and completely, just like the first time. The third born, who showed me how to relax and enjoy this fleeting thing called mothering, because he was my last baby. Then, the bonus daughter who showed me mother love wasn't limited by biology and completed our family.
How lucky am I?
I love these dorks!
Happy Mother's Day!
Monday, May 4, 2015
A day in the life of a curly girl.............
So, I've been hearing a lot about "plopping." No, that's not something you do in a toilet bowl, although the name implies as much. Plopping is the horribly-named practice of using a t-shirt and, I guess unicorn dust or something, to get your hair perfectly curly. Plopping promises a head full of bouncy curls and all you have to do is twist your hair up in a fancy Korean-sweat-towel-type contraption made from a t-shirt and let it dry. You can learn more about plopping here.
Some say you should "plop" for just 20 minutes, until your hair is completely dry. Haha, I say! My hair, when put into a ponytail wet, will still be wet twelve hours later. So, I figured I would have to go with the plopping technique of overnight curls. But first, I had to master the head wrap. I stole a t-shirt out of my husband's drawer, lay it on my bed, flipped my head over, as instructed, and attempted to wrap it by "pulling the back taut against the head and rolling the sides away from your face, then tucking into the sides"....voila! Except.....I could NOT get the shirt to roll correctly, no matter how I tried. It didn't help matters that the diagram showed the model using a towel, not a t-shirt. They called it an Aquis towel, whatever that is. I don't have one of those. Oh, I just looked it up. I DO have one of those - it's a microfiber towel - only mine is conveniently shaped like a Turbie Twist and works fabulously. So, why plop? Because apparently a t-shirt is a magical material that will eliminate frizz and give you a head of bouncy, shiny curls.
I decided I'd just pull the t-shirt over my head - you know how you did when you were little? And it looked like long hair? Yeah. So, I twisted it and tucked it and settled in for a long rest with anticipation of waking with glossy spirals.
Some say you should "plop" for just 20 minutes, until your hair is completely dry. Haha, I say! My hair, when put into a ponytail wet, will still be wet twelve hours later. So, I figured I would have to go with the plopping technique of overnight curls. But first, I had to master the head wrap. I stole a t-shirt out of my husband's drawer, lay it on my bed, flipped my head over, as instructed, and attempted to wrap it by "pulling the back taut against the head and rolling the sides away from your face, then tucking into the sides"....voila! Except.....I could NOT get the shirt to roll correctly, no matter how I tried. It didn't help matters that the diagram showed the model using a towel, not a t-shirt. They called it an Aquis towel, whatever that is. I don't have one of those. Oh, I just looked it up. I DO have one of those - it's a microfiber towel - only mine is conveniently shaped like a Turbie Twist and works fabulously. So, why plop? Because apparently a t-shirt is a magical material that will eliminate frizz and give you a head of bouncy, shiny curls.
I decided I'd just pull the t-shirt over my head - you know how you did when you were little? And it looked like long hair? Yeah. So, I twisted it and tucked it and settled in for a long rest with anticipation of waking with glossy spirals.
This is what actually happened:
Which looks remarkably like this:
Sexy, no?
Here's what it looks like from the back! Oh, and, that no-frizz promise? LIES!
So, I did what I always do when I wake up after going to bed with my hair wet. I dunked my head in the shower, soaked my hair, and started all over.
Then, I added some product. And by "some" I mean a handful.
This is the product I slathered on my hair. I've used just about every hair product out there, and this is one that stands alone. I don't need to add hair gel with this one, like I do so many other products. Plus, it's as thick body butter - perfect for me. Other products are too wimpy! By the way, this product indicates that it is a "leave-in conditioner" but, for the record, ALL my conditioners are leave-in. Body lotion is a leave-in conditioner for my head! There is simply no product strong enough to saturate my hair and eliminate frizz.
So, I managed to tame my mane into something respectable for work. Also, makeup is a miracle, and I apologize for those earlier pictures when I was au natural, because.....scary! And I used a hair straightener on my bangs, because otherwise they are like demented worms crawling on my forehead.
Oh! I can't forget this product. It's from The Body Shop and I bought it a hundred years ago and it's still not gone. It says coconut oil, but it's a little different, and just takes the tiniest bit to apply to my bangs to make them look a little "piece-y-er" and not like straightened fluff, which is what happens when I straighten my bangs. I love this stuff and I don't know what I'll do when it's all gone because they probably don't even make it anymore. Wait, I just did a search. THEY DO STILL MAKE IT. The package is less cool but they make it. Whew.
Now it's around 1:30 p.m. and, as you can see, my hair is "growing". It does this throughout the day when I wear it down. This is why I usually wear my hair up. It's not because I love an updo. It's all about containment and taming the beast.
And......it's 7 p.m. and this is how big my hair grew today. Some days it's even bigger! If I touch it throughout the day, it grows even more. DO NOT touch your curly hair. It must be left alone. Today I had some sort of weird fluffing going on at the top of my head. Also, look how tired I am! Someone should get me a margarita.
The only solution to all this big hair is to tame it. My hair is a lion's mane, and this is my whip. This is no ordinary hair tie, either. It's a Goody Slide Proof elastic and it's MAGIC! There are similar products on the market, but only this one will do for my hair. They are not cheap, either! And my kids steal them. So, if you love me, buy me these hair ties. Also, why do they call them hair ties now? We called them rubber bands when I was a young 'un. Btw, I just checked and they have these on Amazon. So, go buy them for me now. Mother's Day is coming. I don't care if you're not my mother.
The problem is, once my hair has grown this big, my pony tail is more of a pouf. Or, as one of my students described me - the lady with the pretty pom-pom hair. Rah, rah.
So, there you have it. A day in the life of a curly girl. Let's summarize:
1. Plopping is for the toilet.
2. T-shirts are not for hair.
3. If you sleep on wet hair, you will wake up looking like a Rastafarian sheep.
4. The only way to pay penance for the sin of sleeping on wet hair is to baptize your hair in the shower.
5. No amount of product will tame your frizz, but shea butter leave-in conditioner comes close. But it must be the Cantu brand. And don't even THINK of trying their hair custard because it looks like shiny Jell-o and it makes your hair dry into a plastic mold.
6. A little coconut oil on frizzy bangs works well, and a LOT of coconut oil makes your hair really shiny and like an oil slick. I do not recommend.
7. Bangs are the devil, but also necessary to cover large foreheads like mine. I resemble a monkey without bangs. However, with curly hair, you either have to keep your bangs short and straighten them every day, OR you have to grow them long and make them side-swept, thereby covering a hint of forehead. The in-between stage is horrible and the curly bangs often resemble wayward Ramen noodles, so it's probably best to just keep them short.
8. However, if you have straight bangs and curly hair, it will confuse people and they will ask you if that's your real hair or if you are "naturally curly". I like to say "Of course it's naturally curly! Do you think I would do this on purpose?"
9. Curly hair grows. Curly hair often looks perfect when it's wet. And it looks completely different when it's dry.
10. A good hair tie is a girl's best friend. But even the best hair ties break, so always keep a spare handy. Unless you're like me and you're down to, like, one good hair tie and it's never around when you need it. Buy them in bulk.
11. Always keep your curly hair long enough to pull back into a pony tail - or whatever you call it - a pom-pom, a pouf, a curl bun. Curly hair is like sheep's wool - it's hot and you'll want to be able to pull it off your neck and face. Also, short curly hair has the dangerous potential of turning into a poufy helmet and no one wants that.
12. On your biggest, frizziest hair day, at least one person, guaranteed, will gush over your fabulous hair and tell you how jealous they are of it and remind you that people pay good money to get hair like that. And you will look at them and question their sobriety, but when you go home, you'll pouf it even bigger and take selfies and post them to Instagram, hashtag "curly girl".
Have mercy.
P.S. No one paid me to promote the above products. But they should!
Subscribe to:
Posts (Atom)