And here is why
Yikes. I appear to have, um, struck a nerve yesterday. I’m well aware that people do what they have to do; heck, I did the single mom thing for four years, so you don’t have to tell ME. I get it. I am just sometimes amazed and overwhelmed by everything that needs doing (and how much of what needs doing involves me living my life in the car).
I also feel like perhaps I wasn’t clear in pointing out that I can ONLY manage all of this, now, not just because of my flexible job, but also because of Otto. The kids have wanted to take piano for YEARS. It just seemed like too much, to add another activity, before. As for the dentist/orthodontist appointments, I don’t know that I’m willing to count those as optional activities. Sure, we have lots of appointments clustered up right now, but on the whole, things are manageable—they each do one sport and take piano lessons. And I thank Otto on a regular basis for helping out, and he says “That’s my job,” and then I melt a little, and then he totally gets lucky that night. He’s a smart man. read more…
I don’t know how normal people do it
I’m one of those people… you know, one of those annoying “Everything happens for a reason!” types. Now, I never use it as a means to deny the inherent suckitude of a situation, and in fact when I miscarried my first pregnancy I entertained many intricate and violent fantasies of what I’d like to do to the nosy old biddy who was our landlady at the time, every time she assured me that it was fine because “everything happens for a reason,” but on a grander scale, yes, I think things do tend to come together as they’re meant to. (Even when that means ending a sentence with a preposition, apparently.)
So that means, for example, that as much as I sometimes wonder how much less stressful my life would be if, say, a certain person I used to be married to didn’t exist, the bottom line is that I believe beyond a shadow of a doubt that this is how my life was supposed to go. And that can be very comforting, at times. read more…
Handy tips for a busy day
Don’t wake up with a stomach ache.
I said DON’T. You already did? Geez, you don’t follow directions very well, do you? Fine, then.
Do dig around until you find some chewable anti-gas antacids to take.
Don’t wonder why the wrappers are sticky. You probably don’t want to know.
Do drink some water to get the nasty “tropical” taste out of your mouth. Yech.
Don’t be grumpy with the children, just because you’re not feeling well. Speak softly as you wake them up. (Don’t worry; they’re grumpy enough for all of you!) read more…
Hair rules and such
It cracks me up to no end that y’all are so concerned in the comments of this post that perhaps I haven’t fully investigated whether the kids’ school has an issue with weirdly-colored hair. I just want to point out—and I say this with love in my heart, truly—that when it comes to school, I am perhaps one of the most rule-abiding folks you’d ever hope to meet. Some might even say that I’m hopelessly square in this regard, and to those people I would just like to say “Put a sock in it, and go clean your room.”
I mean, yes, I will absolutely go to bat for my kids if there’s something that needs addressing, but in general I am only too happy to abide by whatever guidelines the school sets out. That includes (but is not limited to): cruelly forcing my children to do their own homework, not packing soda or candy in lunches even though other children break this rule all the tiiiiiime, Moooooooom!, sending in a note to alert teachers of changes in pick-up/bus arrangements, and making the kids wear real shoes and not flip-flops. read more…
My deal with the devil
I’m doing a bit of research this weekend, pretty readers. I thought perhaps you’d like to participate.
IF you had a young lady on your hands for whom getting her ears pierced was more or less the pinnacle of all things good and meaningful, and IF you had already laid down the law stating that such piercing would not be happening either A) until middle school or B) until said child could manage to comport herself in such a way that you no longer felt compelled to comment that she would lose her own head if it wasn’t attached, and IF said child had a rather large—say, double-digit—birthday coming up, and IF you were completely unwilling to bend on the ear piercing thing but suddenly had an inspiration and blurted out without thinking “HEY, HOW ABOUT YOU HAVE A SLEEPOVER AND WE DYE YOUR HAIR CRAZY COLORS!”, and IF you had already obtained the BFF’s mom’s permission to do so, and IF you then realized “Oh, crap, I may have just stepped in it,” well, then, WHAT PRODUCT would you be looking for which would be safe to use on small girls and would sufficiently color their hair SEMI-PERMANENTLY in various rainbow hues?
Just wondering.
Nothing says love like jaw modification
A few days ago I finally made a call to the orthodontist here, figuring that it would take a while for them to get us in, but also figuring that it wasn’t a big deal. You may remember our first orthodontic visit and the subsequent tooth extractions, lingual bar insertion, and gum graft; really, poor Chickadee has had enough dental trauma to last a lifetime, already. But mostly, now that all of that is done, we are “watching and waiting” and so I knew there was no rush to get her in to be seen. What comes next is braces, but not for a while. However, I knew we needed to get established with care, and also now Monkey is growing some seriously wonky-looking adult teeth, so I made the call.
“We have a cancellation. How about Thursday?” the nice lady on the phone said. Oh. Soon! Okay, Thursday is fine. So yesterday it was off to the orthodontist. read more…
Love is in the little things
I’m a big believer in a little bit of special all the time, rather than a whole lot of special just once in a while. It’s just how I am. Not that I’ll turn down the occasional grandiose gesture, you understand, but I am not a Special Occasion person.
I’m a Little Details person. Usually.
Needless to say, every now and then I trip myself up. I get a wild hair—I decide I Must Do Something Special—and nine times out of ten it results in an unmitigated disaster. Give you a kiss every morning? Sure! Do your laundry? Okay! Make your dinner? Absolutely! Plan something extra special? Um, please don’t get your hopes up. read more…
I would buy stock in Tween Midol
After careful consideration, I have decided that I am not equipped to parent a teenaged girl. This is really a pity, because it leaves me just three short years with my family before I either have to send Chickadee off to a military academy or enter the Witness Protection Program, and I’m not sure I’m even going to be caught up with all of the television shows I have DVRed, by then. Also, who will tell Monkey to put his socks in the hamper? Who will say to Otto, “HUSBAND! Please go outside and MAKE FIRE and bring us back some CHARRED FLESH!”?
In case you haven’t guessed, my darling daughter has a wee small case of PMS. And by “wee small” I of course mean “raging, out-of-control, how is this possible at not-quite-10, please kill me now.”
Parenthood: The ability to love another human with the very depths of your soul while simultaneously wanting to reach across the dinner table and stab her with your fork. read more…
Snapshots
I was working along, yesterday, quite happily. Mondays are always excellent work days—I’ve had just enough family togetherness to make those hours after everyone’s left the house feel serene and calm and full of possibility. I’m incredibly productive on Mondays. (It falls off during the week. By Friday? I’m useless.)
It has become my habit to do several hours of work in the morning before showering. If I’m going to be completely honest, I guess the truth is that I often work until lunchtime, then take a break to eat and shower and, you know, get dressed. Until then, I’m just here on my own, so what difference does it make?
Well, it makes a difference when I forget that the Bug Guy is coming. read more…
The smallest one was Monkeyline
This weekend was an interesting one. Otto was off playing with cars in the woods (at an actual event, not just randomly taking some cars into the woods, because I guess that would be weird) and so the kids and I were on our own. I’ll be the first one to tell you that life is INFINITELY more interesting when Otto is around, but the occasional day without him is very familiar and cozy, too.
Saturday was a lazy day, and I do mean LAZY. It was gorgeous out and I found myself trying to cajole the kids into a walk. “C’mon! It’ll be fun! It’s a beautiful day!” But they were having none of that sunshine and fresh air crap. Well, they’d already played outside a while and they were having no MORE of it, I guess I should say. But they politely declined (“NOOOOO!”) and we ended up sprawled on the couch in a heap, watching old Mythbusters episodes and tickling each other.
You know, quality family time. read more…