I woke up this morning in a fine mood. Made three cups of chocolate milk and sat down to watch Sunday Morning on CBS and have a cup of tea. Big Brother came in and cuddled up next to me. After about 10 minutes he said, "I'm hungry Mom, can you go fix some breakfast." I told him that I was having my tea and he could go get himself a breakfast bar. "But I don't want a breakfast bar," he whined, “I’ve been here for hours.” I told him, “you can hop your little butt up and get the chocolate milk that is in the fridge and that should tide you over until I am ready to get up. Or…you can go back to bed until you change your attitude.”
Without delving much deeper, his attitude didn’t change and I joined him. I was amazed how hard it was to get out of my “fed up” attitude. I was short tempered, grumpy, and anti social. I had to force myself to go play with the kids in their room, only to realize they hadn’t had their breathing treatment. That started another round of whining. All I could do was pray for nap time.
My husband called me sometime after nap and I explained that “I am digging deep into the pit of my soul right now to survive!” I don’t like to complain. I truly feel there could be worse things than whatever I am experiencing right now. Once I actually said those words, it was like I flipped a switch. Really, was it THAT bad…no. That was all it took.
Verbalizing my feelings helped to put them into perspective. My day suddenly felt normal. I cleaned up the house and had the In Laws over for dinner (they brought the food, I cooked desert.) I enjoyed some company, and let the kids stay up a little late for a school night.
Perspective
This mood has me in a death grip
It’s cold, it’s bleak, it’s grey.
I’m frustrated by the weight of it
I feel smothered by decay.
I try to move on through this shit
But a shadow sits in my way.
As if a Bad Mood Goblin
has moved on in to stay.
Within my heart I rant and rave
and felt no one could share my pain.
But the moment that I gained perspective,
was the moment when I became reflective.
What a life I get to lead,
My heart still beats, and yes I bleed.
There is too much love that surrounds me here,
To waist my day holding onto tears.
Sunday, January 31, 2010
Wednesday, January 27, 2010
Not so Joyful
Turtle is our anti social cat. She has been that way since we brought her home from the pound. She doesn't like anyone except my husband, and she only tolerates me because she can count on me to feed her. About a month ago she disappeared. At first I wasn't too worried, and really I didn't care much. But as the third day went by, I was a little concerned that I hadn't seen her on my kitchen window sill asking to be fed. The next day as I was putting some groceries in the garage I heard a muffled "meow." I looked around the garage trying to figure out where she was when it dawned on me. The attic. That cat follows you up the attic stairs if you aren't paying attention, and my husband had been up there 4 days ago and I am sure he wasn't paying attention to the ladder climbing cat. I pulled down the door and ladder and she popped her little head out and meowed at me like she was cussing. I had to help her down, because she doesn’t know how to climb down the ladder, and went inside to get her food and water.
I was in the process of getting the kids ready to take Big Brother to school and opened the garage door so that I could warm up the van. Well, Turtle ran for her life. It's not like I locked her in the attic on purpose, but that didn't really matter to her. This time I was worried as the weather was expected to get into the teens for the next few nights, but I thought she would come back in the morning. She didn't. Two weeks went by without a single sighting. I didn't contact the pound as she has a chip and they would have contacted me, I really just assumed she had curled up somewhere and froze.
The kids and I went to Amarillo. While we were there, my husband was out in the neighborhood with our dog when this lady asked if he knew who owned the cat in her photo. It was Turtle. She had taken Turtle in when the weather got cold, and was now looking for the owner's because Turtle "attacks" her sick cat. Knowing Turtle, she probably just hisses at the thing, but whatever. Alex left the cat retrieval up to me as he was leaving for work and I was due home in a couple of days. When I got home "Joyful" (that's what I'll call our neighbor) wasted no time in coming to find me. As a matter of fact, she was at my neighbor’s house talking to her when she saw me pull into the garage. She dutifully knocked on the garage door until I opened it again.
This was my first time to meet Joyful, and she seemed ok, but there was something my gut felt the moment I saw her and I just couldn't put my finger on it. I explained the cat in the attic incident and the disappearance, she explained taking her in and her sick cat, and so on. She wanted to know if we "sincerely" wanted to keep her or if we were going to find her a new home. Well, I don't really care either way, but I didn't say that. I explained that I would like to see if she would come home again, and that if that didn't work I would try to find a "no kill" shelter. She immediately responded that "those don't exist." I replied that they do, and we agreed that she would stop feeding Turtle to see if she would come back home. Two days went by and she finally showed herself on the windowsill for food. I put her in the garage, and gave her food and left to take the kids to school. She stayed the remainder of the day, and left sometime before night fall. She never came back.
A week has gone by, and today I was in the driveway cleaning the van, when Joyful pulled in. I went up to her fully prepared to talk about Turtle. She said Turtle was still at her house and she had slammed her finger in her fence trying to get Turtle away from her sick cat. She then asked if I had the found cat sign she had put out. I retrieved it from the truck and wiped the dirt off of it and gave it to her. She said something else to me, but the scowl on her face had me a little on guard and I don't remember what she said. I then heard a distinct "shhhhhhhhhhhhhhhhhhhhhhhhhhhhh" coming from the van and deduced that Little Brother was in there helping me clean with the pledge that I had left unattended. I pulled him out of the van and wiped up the oil slick of pledge and tossed the can and towel into the vines next to me. Joyful said "I don't mean to bother you" and I said "that's ok" as I waved off the van. "That's not what I mean; do you have the metal piece that goes to the bottom of my sign?"
I am sure the expression on my face showed just how pissed off I was. I looked in the truck with no luck only to find that she had exited her car and was now sauntering towards my garage to take a look for herself. I stopped her by saying that if my husband had put it in the garage I would know. She then informed me that she didn't give my husband permission to take her sign, and that they cost her 8 dollars apiece. (My husband tells me that she was present when he picked up the sign and that she said she didn't care) This was the beginning of the confrontation. Joyful began asking questions about if my garage was open and if Turtle could even get in, and where is the food for her and how is she supposed to get in because "you didn't put her collar on her." I literally said, "Whoa, stop right there! How dare you come into my drive, and begin to judge me as if I have been irresponsible in this situation." She said, "You have been irresponsible. I called the pound, and you are wrong, they do kill them." I explained that I was not talking about the pound I was referring to the Humane Society or the SPCA and at this point I had had enough.
"You do not get to come to my house, in front of my children and begin accusing me of being irresponsible in a situation that was created by you. YOU are the one that has made the choice to feed my cat continuously. YOU decided to take her in instead of taking her to the pound, where they would have found out we are the owners because of the chip, and you are the one who continues to feed her despite the agreement we had." She began to get teary eyed, but I didn't care. She did this in front of my boys and I was pissed off more that I have been in a long time. I told her I had to go get my daughter from school, and after that I would be by to get Turtle. She said, "I don't want you to come on my property." I said, "Oh, you don't get to pull that one, Joyful. As a matter of fact before you go, let me write you a check for that 8 dollars." She said, "I won't cash it"
"I don't care if you cash it or not, at least you can't say we didn't cover it" She got in her car to leave, as I ushered my kids into the van. I told her I was coming right now to get the cat. I back out and followed her around the block. I don't know why she drove past her house, but we live in a bunch of cul-de-sacs, so I turned around and parked in front of her driveway. I marched my mad butt back to her fence and got Turtle. As I got back into the van she said, you aren't going to take you to the pound are you. I told her not to worry about it. She said, "I don't want her to get killed" and I told her she would be just fine. I took Turtle back to the house and locked you in the cat carrier in the garage and left to get Big Sister from school. I was now 20 minutes past my leave time.
As I drove I tried to turn this into a learning experience for Big Brother. I explained that it was a confrontation and that as he saw, it is important to speak clearly and to explain your point of view without losing your temper. Blah Blah Blah. I saw some election signs with the metal posts that Joyful had been referring to so I stopped to pick one up. I was still fuming as I yanked the thing out of the yard and turned to get into the van. "Did he win already?" The guy across the street yelled at me. I smiled a little panicked at the situation and said, "Not yet, just need this in another yard." Got in and shut the door. Big Brother asked me what the sign was. I explained it had the piece I needed for the "old lady" who was just at our house. He then said, "Mom that's stealing."
Well, there is no way to justify it. He was right. I explained that I was mad, and that I made a bad choice because of it. I asked what he thought I should do about it. He said "take it back" and I told him he was right. So, after getting Big Sister from school I took the sign back. I was fully prepared to own up to the guy across the street but he wasn't there. I made sure Big Brother saw what I did. I told him I was sorry. It's funny how sometimes in taking the "high road" you can end up with a little bird poop in your face.
I was in the process of getting the kids ready to take Big Brother to school and opened the garage door so that I could warm up the van. Well, Turtle ran for her life. It's not like I locked her in the attic on purpose, but that didn't really matter to her. This time I was worried as the weather was expected to get into the teens for the next few nights, but I thought she would come back in the morning. She didn't. Two weeks went by without a single sighting. I didn't contact the pound as she has a chip and they would have contacted me, I really just assumed she had curled up somewhere and froze.
The kids and I went to Amarillo. While we were there, my husband was out in the neighborhood with our dog when this lady asked if he knew who owned the cat in her photo. It was Turtle. She had taken Turtle in when the weather got cold, and was now looking for the owner's because Turtle "attacks" her sick cat. Knowing Turtle, she probably just hisses at the thing, but whatever. Alex left the cat retrieval up to me as he was leaving for work and I was due home in a couple of days. When I got home "Joyful" (that's what I'll call our neighbor) wasted no time in coming to find me. As a matter of fact, she was at my neighbor’s house talking to her when she saw me pull into the garage. She dutifully knocked on the garage door until I opened it again.
This was my first time to meet Joyful, and she seemed ok, but there was something my gut felt the moment I saw her and I just couldn't put my finger on it. I explained the cat in the attic incident and the disappearance, she explained taking her in and her sick cat, and so on. She wanted to know if we "sincerely" wanted to keep her or if we were going to find her a new home. Well, I don't really care either way, but I didn't say that. I explained that I would like to see if she would come home again, and that if that didn't work I would try to find a "no kill" shelter. She immediately responded that "those don't exist." I replied that they do, and we agreed that she would stop feeding Turtle to see if she would come back home. Two days went by and she finally showed herself on the windowsill for food. I put her in the garage, and gave her food and left to take the kids to school. She stayed the remainder of the day, and left sometime before night fall. She never came back.
A week has gone by, and today I was in the driveway cleaning the van, when Joyful pulled in. I went up to her fully prepared to talk about Turtle. She said Turtle was still at her house and she had slammed her finger in her fence trying to get Turtle away from her sick cat. She then asked if I had the found cat sign she had put out. I retrieved it from the truck and wiped the dirt off of it and gave it to her. She said something else to me, but the scowl on her face had me a little on guard and I don't remember what she said. I then heard a distinct "shhhhhhhhhhhhhhhhhhhhhhhhhhhhh" coming from the van and deduced that Little Brother was in there helping me clean with the pledge that I had left unattended. I pulled him out of the van and wiped up the oil slick of pledge and tossed the can and towel into the vines next to me. Joyful said "I don't mean to bother you" and I said "that's ok" as I waved off the van. "That's not what I mean; do you have the metal piece that goes to the bottom of my sign?"
I am sure the expression on my face showed just how pissed off I was. I looked in the truck with no luck only to find that she had exited her car and was now sauntering towards my garage to take a look for herself. I stopped her by saying that if my husband had put it in the garage I would know. She then informed me that she didn't give my husband permission to take her sign, and that they cost her 8 dollars apiece. (My husband tells me that she was present when he picked up the sign and that she said she didn't care) This was the beginning of the confrontation. Joyful began asking questions about if my garage was open and if Turtle could even get in, and where is the food for her and how is she supposed to get in because "you didn't put her collar on her." I literally said, "Whoa, stop right there! How dare you come into my drive, and begin to judge me as if I have been irresponsible in this situation." She said, "You have been irresponsible. I called the pound, and you are wrong, they do kill them." I explained that I was not talking about the pound I was referring to the Humane Society or the SPCA and at this point I had had enough.
"You do not get to come to my house, in front of my children and begin accusing me of being irresponsible in a situation that was created by you. YOU are the one that has made the choice to feed my cat continuously. YOU decided to take her in instead of taking her to the pound, where they would have found out we are the owners because of the chip, and you are the one who continues to feed her despite the agreement we had." She began to get teary eyed, but I didn't care. She did this in front of my boys and I was pissed off more that I have been in a long time. I told her I had to go get my daughter from school, and after that I would be by to get Turtle. She said, "I don't want you to come on my property." I said, "Oh, you don't get to pull that one, Joyful. As a matter of fact before you go, let me write you a check for that 8 dollars." She said, "I won't cash it"
"I don't care if you cash it or not, at least you can't say we didn't cover it" She got in her car to leave, as I ushered my kids into the van. I told her I was coming right now to get the cat. I back out and followed her around the block. I don't know why she drove past her house, but we live in a bunch of cul-de-sacs, so I turned around and parked in front of her driveway. I marched my mad butt back to her fence and got Turtle. As I got back into the van she said, you aren't going to take you to the pound are you. I told her not to worry about it. She said, "I don't want her to get killed" and I told her she would be just fine. I took Turtle back to the house and locked you in the cat carrier in the garage and left to get Big Sister from school. I was now 20 minutes past my leave time.
As I drove I tried to turn this into a learning experience for Big Brother. I explained that it was a confrontation and that as he saw, it is important to speak clearly and to explain your point of view without losing your temper. Blah Blah Blah. I saw some election signs with the metal posts that Joyful had been referring to so I stopped to pick one up. I was still fuming as I yanked the thing out of the yard and turned to get into the van. "Did he win already?" The guy across the street yelled at me. I smiled a little panicked at the situation and said, "Not yet, just need this in another yard." Got in and shut the door. Big Brother asked me what the sign was. I explained it had the piece I needed for the "old lady" who was just at our house. He then said, "Mom that's stealing."
Well, there is no way to justify it. He was right. I explained that I was mad, and that I made a bad choice because of it. I asked what he thought I should do about it. He said "take it back" and I told him he was right. So, after getting Big Sister from school I took the sign back. I was fully prepared to own up to the guy across the street but he wasn't there. I made sure Big Brother saw what I did. I told him I was sorry. It's funny how sometimes in taking the "high road" you can end up with a little bird poop in your face.
Monday, January 25, 2010
Big Sister
I decided to take a break this morning and watch the news with a cup of tea. Big mistake. I have learned that when the kids are too quiet you need to check on them. This morning was different. They, all three, because Big Brother is home sick from school, were playing really well, laughing, running, and giggling all morning long. None of that really changed while I sat enjoying my tea.
It wasn't until Little Brother came into the TV room spinning a cup around the top of a stick like a top. This was Big Brother's cup from breakfast, and the last I remember, it was on the table half full of milk. Uh oh. My first thought was, "great, now your contaminated." My second was, "please, please, please tell me you drank it..." On the kitchen table was a puddle of milk. The cereal bowl had been emptied as well as the cup, and at first glance, some of it had to have been consumed because there just wasn't that much. I grabbed a towel and wet it down and walked into the spill zone.
At closer inspection, I noticed it wasn't just a spill, there was actually splatter. This means that not only did he pour it onto the table, he also enjoyed the play session he had with the sugary sweet mess. I wiped it all up, being careful not to step on the spill spots on the floor, and commenced with pseudo mopping the floor with the same towel. Anyone who has cleaned up a spill properly knows that it covers everything. So as I cleaned each of the legs on three of the chairs, I noticed the streaks running down the walls, and then the windows. Apparently he hadn't consumed as much of it as I thought because the walls were now works of art, only you could only see it if you held your head just right. So, I cleaned them up, what else was I to do. Here is the kicker...I had just wiped down and cleaned all the walls and baseboards and windows in that area yesterday. Go figure, it's like that when I mop too. I don't even get mad when the first beverage is spilled just hours after I have finished, just shake my head and clean it up.
I was getting the milk taken care of and Big Sister was helping. While my beautiful curly haired girl diligently wiped down the windows, I gave her a hard time about letting Little Brother do this, and letting me know next time if he makes a mess. That's when it happened. I looked closer at what we were cleaning. The previously spotless windows were actually blurry, and the milk on the floor really wasn't puddled, just kinda wet. Big Sister didn't tell me about the mess because she was in there cleaning it up for me. And considering a 3 year old's abilities, she did a really good job. I wasn't really mad at all of this, but realizing how thoughtful my daughter was, really made my day. I stopped everything and snatched her up, buried my face into her little neck and told her what a wonderful girl she is.
Big Sister
I can close my eyes and see you.
Long rings of curly hair.
Brown eyes that glisten like morning dew.
Your cheeks are soft as air.
Today your kindness touched my heart.
You're thoughtful, sweet, and bold.
Precious, to me, a work of art
So wonderful to behold.
It wasn't until Little Brother came into the TV room spinning a cup around the top of a stick like a top. This was Big Brother's cup from breakfast, and the last I remember, it was on the table half full of milk. Uh oh. My first thought was, "great, now your contaminated." My second was, "please, please, please tell me you drank it..." On the kitchen table was a puddle of milk. The cereal bowl had been emptied as well as the cup, and at first glance, some of it had to have been consumed because there just wasn't that much. I grabbed a towel and wet it down and walked into the spill zone.
At closer inspection, I noticed it wasn't just a spill, there was actually splatter. This means that not only did he pour it onto the table, he also enjoyed the play session he had with the sugary sweet mess. I wiped it all up, being careful not to step on the spill spots on the floor, and commenced with pseudo mopping the floor with the same towel. Anyone who has cleaned up a spill properly knows that it covers everything. So as I cleaned each of the legs on three of the chairs, I noticed the streaks running down the walls, and then the windows. Apparently he hadn't consumed as much of it as I thought because the walls were now works of art, only you could only see it if you held your head just right. So, I cleaned them up, what else was I to do. Here is the kicker...I had just wiped down and cleaned all the walls and baseboards and windows in that area yesterday. Go figure, it's like that when I mop too. I don't even get mad when the first beverage is spilled just hours after I have finished, just shake my head and clean it up.
I was getting the milk taken care of and Big Sister was helping. While my beautiful curly haired girl diligently wiped down the windows, I gave her a hard time about letting Little Brother do this, and letting me know next time if he makes a mess. That's when it happened. I looked closer at what we were cleaning. The previously spotless windows were actually blurry, and the milk on the floor really wasn't puddled, just kinda wet. Big Sister didn't tell me about the mess because she was in there cleaning it up for me. And considering a 3 year old's abilities, she did a really good job. I wasn't really mad at all of this, but realizing how thoughtful my daughter was, really made my day. I stopped everything and snatched her up, buried my face into her little neck and told her what a wonderful girl she is.
Big Sister
I can close my eyes and see you.
Long rings of curly hair.
Brown eyes that glisten like morning dew.
Your cheeks are soft as air.
Today your kindness touched my heart.
You're thoughtful, sweet, and bold.
Precious, to me, a work of art
So wonderful to behold.
Sunday, January 24, 2010
Sick Day
I have sick kids in the house. It seems to go in rounds, one week runny noses and the next a fever and cough. I used to get so worried when Big Brother would get sick, but now it's not so intimidating. Now I worry more about getting others sick.
In most worlds that wouldn't be a big deal. But in mine, it means seclusion. My husband is not home as much as the "normal" working parent would be. With the exception of phone conversations with my husband, there are many times when a week goes by without seeing or conversing with another adult. There are the occasional conversations with a mom when I am picking up from school, but for the most part, there aren't many grownup conversations happening. Now I know a lot of people would ask why I don't join a Mom's group or something like that. I guess it boils down to commitment. I think about all the things that I have to get accomplished, and I just don't want to commit to anything else. I don't feel I suffer too much. Maybe I am just used to it, it's been like this for almost eight years.
Sick Day
Cough, hack, sneeze, and spray
you caught another cold today.
Come here my sweet, you're burning up,
well that's OK just don't throw up.
I'll kiss your head and hold you tight,
but that's not the place for your nose to wipe.
In most worlds that wouldn't be a big deal. But in mine, it means seclusion. My husband is not home as much as the "normal" working parent would be. With the exception of phone conversations with my husband, there are many times when a week goes by without seeing or conversing with another adult. There are the occasional conversations with a mom when I am picking up from school, but for the most part, there aren't many grownup conversations happening. Now I know a lot of people would ask why I don't join a Mom's group or something like that. I guess it boils down to commitment. I think about all the things that I have to get accomplished, and I just don't want to commit to anything else. I don't feel I suffer too much. Maybe I am just used to it, it's been like this for almost eight years.
Sick Day
Cough, hack, sneeze, and spray
you caught another cold today.
Come here my sweet, you're burning up,
well that's OK just don't throw up.
I'll kiss your head and hold you tight,
but that's not the place for your nose to wipe.
Saturday, January 23, 2010
Nap Time
Today was a great day to take a nap. It started with Champ's wet nose rousing me at 6:30 for a potty break. I tried my best to ease out of bed as to not wake my 2 year old, only to stumble into my 3 year old in the hallway (I have a feeling Champ gave her a nose kiss too!) I did my best to hurry the dog outside and escort my daughter back to bed with me to catch a few more minutes of sleep.
Once this starts, I don't really sleep anymore. Typically, I lay there worrying if one of the kids is going to wake the other. About the time my daughter fell asleep, the youngest woke up. He started by sliding his way out of bed, then stood there, climbed back in, cuddled, slid back out of bed and hurried directly into the other room calling for his sister. He succeeded in finding her, only she was in my room, no longer sound asleep, and now Big Brother was awake, too. I guess it's time to greet the day.
Big Brother had a birthday party to attend at 10:30, and we still needed to get the gift and drop off Big Sister and Little Brother at the babysitter's. So needless to say, I hit the floor planning. I fed the kids a good breakfast, got them and myself showered and ready to go by 9:00. Most people would think an hour and a half to get a gift and arrive at a birthday party on time is plenty of time, and it is...in their world. By the time I loaded everyone into the van I noticed a foul odor from Little Brother's diaper. Well, here we go. I have to admit that he has a great personality, he goes with the flow, and handles most things that we throw at him. So, the diaper wasn't a big bump, just a small delay, and watching him hustle like a line backer back to the van takes away any irritation I might have had.
The rest of the morning was great. The birthday party wore out Big Brother and playing at the sitter's took care of the other two. It rained on us on the way home, and that gave me a great reason to take a nap. I usually exercise during this time, but if its raining you can bet I will be napping. Little Brother woke me about an hour into nap, and climbed into bed with me. He fell asleep again, and I just laid there. His head was on my shoulder, his breath was sweet, and I laid there and watched him. I really love being a mom.
Nap Time
I'm quieted by your presence.
Am tranquil in your repose.
I'm effected by your essence
and happy with your nose.
I hold you while you chase your dreams.
Cherish each stolen kiss.
I have more love for you my sweet
than I thought could ever exist.
Once this starts, I don't really sleep anymore. Typically, I lay there worrying if one of the kids is going to wake the other. About the time my daughter fell asleep, the youngest woke up. He started by sliding his way out of bed, then stood there, climbed back in, cuddled, slid back out of bed and hurried directly into the other room calling for his sister. He succeeded in finding her, only she was in my room, no longer sound asleep, and now Big Brother was awake, too. I guess it's time to greet the day.
Big Brother had a birthday party to attend at 10:30, and we still needed to get the gift and drop off Big Sister and Little Brother at the babysitter's. So needless to say, I hit the floor planning. I fed the kids a good breakfast, got them and myself showered and ready to go by 9:00. Most people would think an hour and a half to get a gift and arrive at a birthday party on time is plenty of time, and it is...in their world. By the time I loaded everyone into the van I noticed a foul odor from Little Brother's diaper. Well, here we go. I have to admit that he has a great personality, he goes with the flow, and handles most things that we throw at him. So, the diaper wasn't a big bump, just a small delay, and watching him hustle like a line backer back to the van takes away any irritation I might have had.
The rest of the morning was great. The birthday party wore out Big Brother and playing at the sitter's took care of the other two. It rained on us on the way home, and that gave me a great reason to take a nap. I usually exercise during this time, but if its raining you can bet I will be napping. Little Brother woke me about an hour into nap, and climbed into bed with me. He fell asleep again, and I just laid there. His head was on my shoulder, his breath was sweet, and I laid there and watched him. I really love being a mom.
Nap Time
I'm quieted by your presence.
Am tranquil in your repose.
I'm effected by your essence
and happy with your nose.
I hold you while you chase your dreams.
Cherish each stolen kiss.
I have more love for you my sweet
than I thought could ever exist.
Friday, January 22, 2010
Speak Rationally
I went to my friends house for a play date today. The kids had a great time playing in the dirt, and I had a great time letting them. I watched them dig for treasure, get the bad guys and bury each other for a couple of hours and didn't hear anyone complain. Moments like that are priceless. I find they happen more when I step out of the picture and let them just be kids.
The tranquility was disrupted when it was time to go. When I announced it was time, I was informed of my little girls dislike of the situation by her incessant whining. God, I hate whining....no really, I HATE whining. I spent way too much time teaching all three of my kids sign language when they were 6 months old so that I could avoid it. Just tell me what you want. I cannot and will not decipher your cryptic 3 year old whine message. AHHHHH. This continued from the moment I announced departure, through the loading of the children, seat belt attachment and takeoff. I finally threatened a spanking if it didn't cease, and after threatening literally 4 more times, I had to pull over and follow through. (I really don't like to spank them, but I'll tell you about that another time.)
Well, we are home now, and all is quite.
Good night.
Speak Rationally
"My dear sweet daughter", I'll say all the while
I grit my teeth behind my smile.
"Why, oh why do you whine this way?"
But that's not all I want to say.
If I could scream and throw a fit
I'd show you why I hate this shit.
Your fits are exhausting,obnoxious and crude.
Our quiet ride home has just been screwed.
With all the strength that's left in me
I try my best to speak rationally,
"My sweet, sweet girl, I know you're tired
so to your bed you'll soon retire."
The tranquility was disrupted when it was time to go. When I announced it was time, I was informed of my little girls dislike of the situation by her incessant whining. God, I hate whining....no really, I HATE whining. I spent way too much time teaching all three of my kids sign language when they were 6 months old so that I could avoid it. Just tell me what you want. I cannot and will not decipher your cryptic 3 year old whine message. AHHHHH. This continued from the moment I announced departure, through the loading of the children, seat belt attachment and takeoff. I finally threatened a spanking if it didn't cease, and after threatening literally 4 more times, I had to pull over and follow through. (I really don't like to spank them, but I'll tell you about that another time.)
Well, we are home now, and all is quite.
Good night.
Speak Rationally
"My dear sweet daughter", I'll say all the while
I grit my teeth behind my smile.
"Why, oh why do you whine this way?"
But that's not all I want to say.
If I could scream and throw a fit
I'd show you why I hate this shit.
Your fits are exhausting,obnoxious and crude.
Our quiet ride home has just been screwed.
With all the strength that's left in me
I try my best to speak rationally,
"My sweet, sweet girl, I know you're tired
so to your bed you'll soon retire."
Thursday, January 21, 2010
My Shower Moment
Knowing where to begin is the hardest thing. I am a stay at home mom. I have three beautiful children, and am frequently on my own when it comes running the household and raising our children. This scenario provides me with ample opportunity to completely loose my sanity.
I have a hard time committing to things. Mostly, I am afraid to commit to something that will require me to spend what little time I have on something I don't want to spend my time on. Selfish...maybe, but I am hoping it is more common than we want to admit.
So what does commitment have to do with a shower moment? Well, it was in the shower today that I decided what I wanted to do. After I put my little ones down for a nap, a took a few moments to read through a book my sister gave me. It's is a collection of poetry put together by Julie Andrews and her daughter and some other guy. My shower moment wasn't about the book, it was about my inability to stop rhyming. Everything that I thought of was in rhyme. It was then that I decided I was going to thwart my enemy (insanity) and write about being a Mom in rhyme.
OK...so I obviously don't want to write everything in rhythm and verse, but I do want to take the moment each night to write about my life lessons (even if they are about poop.)
So, here I am. My first night. My commitment. My fear. But considering I don't really have anyone reading this, I don't really have much to loose.
Wait, stop, what, there it is
another idea fell through my sieve.
I'm chasing thoughts through a dangerous land
where nothing stands still at my command.
I have a hard time committing to things. Mostly, I am afraid to commit to something that will require me to spend what little time I have on something I don't want to spend my time on. Selfish...maybe, but I am hoping it is more common than we want to admit.
So what does commitment have to do with a shower moment? Well, it was in the shower today that I decided what I wanted to do. After I put my little ones down for a nap, a took a few moments to read through a book my sister gave me. It's is a collection of poetry put together by Julie Andrews and her daughter and some other guy. My shower moment wasn't about the book, it was about my inability to stop rhyming. Everything that I thought of was in rhyme. It was then that I decided I was going to thwart my enemy (insanity) and write about being a Mom in rhyme.
OK...so I obviously don't want to write everything in rhythm and verse, but I do want to take the moment each night to write about my life lessons (even if they are about poop.)
So, here I am. My first night. My commitment. My fear. But considering I don't really have anyone reading this, I don't really have much to loose.
Wait, stop, what, there it is
another idea fell through my sieve.
I'm chasing thoughts through a dangerous land
where nothing stands still at my command.
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