Busy Day

Tomorrow is my sister's wedding, "Need to get a gift." T is going camping tonight with the scouts, "Need to get a sleeping bag." It snowed last night. We are almost out of milk, chicken, orange juice, cereal, "Need to shop for food, OH! and T needs snacks for his camp out. Good thing they are going to a cabin, it snowed last night." There will be food at the wedding rehearsal, there will be a lunch before, too, I think - "Need to go over the schedule for tomorrow." C has a soccer game tomorrow two hours before the wedding. But he's not involved in the wedding in any way, "Need to decide whether or not he can go to the soccer game." Everyone has brand new clothes for the wedding, "Should probably wash those and find shoes. I think I'll check to see if Target or Costco are still carrying sleeping bags. I really don't want to go to 50 stores today. . .while I'm thinking of that, is there anything else we need before the wedding? How am I going to fix my hair? Maybe I could call Aunt S to see if she could take C to the soccer game and then bring him up to the wedding with her." I don't think Q and E are going to be happy to wait patiently for bagels and juice tomorrow morning. "Better get enough snacks for T, E & Q." I'm not feeling very well, "T has to be ready to leave at 4 p.m." Too bad nothing can really wait until tomorrow, I'll have to be sick on Sunday.

Self-Portrait

I started my Stampin' Up! website today. I decided to try to do some self-portraits, and this is the best one. I will probably use this for my high school reunion profile, this blog and for the Stampin' Up site. I thought of taking the camera out of the photo but I think it shows me the way I am very often - camera in hand.
It was done looking into my bathroom mirror. If you want to try this, make sure your mirror is clean, then look into the camera in the mirror and away you go. It will obviously work best if you have good natural light to the room. You need to be able to get the image without a flash.

Now if I could just figure out how to upload the photo to the other websites.

A quiet moment

On President's day, about 7:30 p.m. we had been through the wringer with Q. I knew he was winding down, or at least that the wind feeding my tornado was about to run out. In fact, I predicted that by 8:30 p.m. he would simply crash - and he did about quarter after eight. The baby was dozing in my arms, the boys were playing a game together and E was reclined in D's arms, completely silent. The television was on, the volume low. I don't remember what was on, I think it was the History Channel. I have been living with chaos for a while now. I know how to appreciate a quiet moment when it comes around. There were many things that made this extra sweet and precious to me. The fact that D was able to enjoy it with us was more than a good portion of that sweetness. It was a bona fide Norman Rockwell moment. I looked at D. He looked at me. We smiled. I'll never forget it. At least I'm going to try not to forget. It's not easy to gloss over the pain of my everyday life, but having been through it makes a peaceful hour not only priceless but something to cherish and cling to like a life ring tossed from heaven. Holding on to that ring, I can float for a little while and imagine that somewhere out there I might find more moments and reasons to hope that we can all survive this time in the life of our family.

Time to wash the suit, Superdude

Like most close to four year olds, my son Q enjoys repetition. This week it has been Superman. Watching Superman while wearing Superman jammies - day and night - has been his quest. If you know many four year olds, you get why this could be a problem. Normally he would protest anything that didn't meet his exacting standards. If Q gets something on his clothing - even water - it has to come off immediately. For some reason, the same rule doesn't apply to this particular pair of jammies. It has been a challenge to keep it clean. If it is in the dirty clothes basket, even for a good reason, he goes looking for it and puts it right on when he finds it. He wore it yesterday, last night and has every intention of wearing it today, too. This is one of those things that I know I will never figure out. I'll just have to keep teaching the correct principle and hope that he learns to govern himself appropriately by the time he's out of the house. Come to think of it, however, I'm still teaching the "wear different (clean) clothing each day to my 8 and 11 year old boys, too. I have no trouble with E on this issue. Finding new things to wear each day is akin to playing dress-up and at six, she is right there in the zone. I know there's a long road ahead of me with these boys, but I'm fairly sure that it comes with the territory. Knowing that sometimes makes all the difference in my ability to cope with any particular oddity. Normal. Yes Normal. Moving on. Wash the suit, superdude.

Tales of Q

I started to pack Q's size 3 clothes because he's growing out of them. The task seemed obvious to me, but I quickly learned that he wasn't quite ready to give them up. The mind of this child will never be easily dominated. I realize that of course, but I completely underestimated the secure attachment he had formed to his clothing. He rejected the size 4 lot out of hand, in favor of the ones neatly folded, organized and packaged, ready to be given to cousins. I have, at least three times, found all of the clothing strewn on the floor with Q right in the middle looking for a specific shirt or pair of pajamas. Each and every free minute I've managed to eek out this week has been sucked up by (surprise!) another pile of clothes on the floor needing to be picked up. (Admittedly, they are no longer neatly folded and organized.) Thankfully, however, I think we've finally had a break through. Yesterday, he started rummaging through the "new" clothes instead. He was convinced that he wouldn't be able to find anything worth wearing, but my trained eye spotted the ringer right away. A navy blue polo shirt printed all over with tiny tools - saws, wrenches, screwdrivers, hammers, tool boxes and belts. Literally, this shirt could have been made just for him. Then, I remembered some shorts and, oh look yes there are the socks, too! I pointed out the tiny hammer engraved on the button of the shorts, and helped him to see all of the things he had overlooked on the shirt. He bought it. He held up the shorts and touched the button - his eyes slightly glazed in amazement, "a hammer" - he insisted on wearing the entire group immediately, and never looked back. At least that's what I thought. I was sure that I had ALL of the size three clothes tucked away. He's fast, though, and tricky. He had FOLDED and PUT INTO HIS DRAWER a Buzz Lightyear sleeper that I have been trying to get away from him for not less than 3 months. It was the first thing I pulled out, and now I know that it will be the last thing to go. We've had it since T was 2 years old - at least 9 years. Q has been wearing it since long before it was far too big and at this point it is a full 6 inches too short in the legs. Somehow it still fits in the body, and so "it fits". When I asked what pajamas he wanted to wear, he said "Butt Lightyear" to which I protested that he didn't have any warm Buzz Lightyear jammies. . ."Yes," he says "right here." Lo and behold, he was right. Now, I just have to make a plan and work it to perfection. The sleeper gets washed and then goes right into the middle of the pile of other clothes which then goes directly to the car and over to my sister's house. We'll see. Q has long since proved himself much more intelligent and sneaky than I will ever dream of being myself.

Lately, Q has been taking the small bags of chips that I get for school lunches and opening up about 5 of the same variety. He puts them in a big pile on the kitchen table and smiles proudly to himself and says, "These are MY chips." I'm sure he's only saying what he truly believes. He WAS at Costco with me when I made the purchase, and he did specifically ask me to buy the variety pack of chips. I suppose it only follows that the first chance he got, he'd open up as many as he could - everyone loves it when they get new things. He thought I was buying the chips FOR HIM. They are HIS CHIPS.


Q spares nothing and no one. If I can keep from being a "house burning down" statistic on the 6 o'clock news I will consider myself as having been the benefactor of one of God's most gracious miracles. If the child makes it to adulthood - we'll know without a doubt that many armies of angels have been assigned as his bodyguards. One mother is simply not enough. He would probably be best served by 5 mothers working independently of each other to assure his safety. He's just that kind of boy. Like the velocirapters in Jurrasic Park II - when you look in his eyes, you can see that he's working things out. Smart, curious and dangerous, that is my Q. If I ever allow myself to forget or even play down his nature, he will quickly remind me.

Yesterday, all I had to say to D was, "Wow, Q has really been in rare form today." It's been nearly 4 years. We know what that means now although it does little to quell the frustration. I find myself laughing more and more because crying doesn't help much and as difficult as this is, he's just so darned cute. I will wait patiently for the next surprise. I know without a doubt that I won't have to wait long at all.

Don't over-do it.

This is Monday. I'm beat. The children are out of school for their track break, so I was trying to balance "need to do" with fun.

My list included the following:

1) Care for the general needs of the kids while also preparing for an afternoon out of the house.
2) Send an invoice to a customer before we leave for the afternoon.
3) Go to Rec Center to sign boys up for sports and some off-track fun days.
4) Head South 45 minutes to deliver some products to another very good customer.
5) On the way back, stop at North American Museum of Ancient Life (aka The Dinosaur Museum).

Remember - just me and the five children. Still two more stops to go.

6) Go to Target to pick up some items which were missing from a box purchased on Saturday. Allow each child to pick out a treat for their good behavior at the Dinosaur Museum. Purchase some goodies for my Valentine.
7) Get haircuts for the older two boys, in preparation for my sister's wedding in two weeks.

We had crepes for dinner. Luckily - every one's favorite, and a very quick meal. I found it hard to believe that we had done everything on the list, but we did.

After dinner, I collapsed.

It is not the kind of day I intend to repeat often. I'm not a glutton for punishment. I was thrilled to hear the American Academy of Pediatrics say - "Kids need less scheduled time, and more time to just PLAY." I've actually been on the other end of the spectrum, thinking - "I really ought to let the kids play at least one sport this spring." Last spring's activities fell to the "brand new baby out in the elements" issue. This year, however, we are itching to get out and go. Baby A is a year old, healthy and strong. Q might be a bit more manageable at nearly four - at least that is my hope. C will be doing soccer, which he couldn't be happier about. T is heading back to baseball. I hope it does them well. There is nothing like "doing" for kids. I believe, however, in not "over-doing". I'm looking forward to the warmer weather. It brings with it more frequent visits to the park and opportunities for the children to play with friends in the neighborhood. We'll be busy, but sanity and peace will come first. I don't intend to put "collapse onto the couch in utter exhaustion" on my to do list anyitme soon.

Stop the Roller Coaster

I think that when quieter times come, I will really appreciate them. It has been said that you have to taste the bitter to know the sweet. Well, this part of life is bitter. This is like big squished up face fresh unsweetened lemon-juice bitter. Have you seen a child take a wedge of lemon and put it right into their mouth. . .the shock and well, the shock. That's what my 38th year has been for me. Everyone keeps telling me that it's going to be so much worse when the kids are teenagers. If that's true then next year I will definitely be checking myself into some kind of program for the mentally ill. If I get a jump on it, maybe when I actually do loose my mind, I'll already know what to do about it.

Decorating Sense

We've been here in our home for just a bit over 3 months. D and I both have Bachelor's degrees in Design - he did Graphic and I did Interior. Honestly, D has been far more influential on my style than any of my college courses were. He has very strong opinions about how things should look, and loves modern design. I could have gone in any number of directions, but D had a firm and determined course. I love our style, it is practical family meets high style modern, with a little exotic tossed in for spice. We found a way to keep our design senses happy, and still allow children near the furnishings. Personally, I think that's important, since they'll spend far more time kicking back on the couch than I will. But that's beside the point. We've been here for three months, and the general decor is taking shape.
When we moved in, I mentioned to D that I was just going to wait for each room to tell me what it wanted to be. So far, that's been a very effective plan. Most of the time, I sit down with someone and all of their favorite paint choices and help them to choose wisely. I've always tried to encourage people to put themselves into their environment rather than to impose my own taste upon them. I like to help people to discover what suits them, and help them to get it. In my own home, I have to do that with myself. Last week I had a real epiphany. For whatever reason, I usually get ideas for the bathrooms first. This time was no exception. When we first moved in, I imagined our bath retreat in light aqua and sunny sandy yellow. Slowly but surely, it started bringing up new options - and finally, the unifying idea was born. Some blue and white pottery I collected years ago was the final piece in the initial puzzle. I had a wonderful childhood which included a year with my family in Japan. I have never known a happier time. I was ten years old, and very aware of the cultural differences I saw. Many of the images stayed with me, and almost all of them are very positive and happy. The bathroom wanted to be a happy place, reminding me of that time in Japan. Growing up is difficult, and adulthood can be nearly unbearable at times. My youthful fantasies of blissful family life and marriage are gone. I'm living in reality now. My bath, however, can stay in that happy beautiful foreign and innocent place where I once was - and it can take me back there all day long. I'm excited for the rest of these rooms to throw in their two cents, and teach me at once about my present, and my past.