I love being a housewife. More accurately, I love being a wife and I happen to be at home most of the time. I also love being a mom. Especially now that they are older and not AT home most of the time. Don't get me wrong, I love my kids. I also love quiet and eating ice cream for lunch - neither of which will happen of there are ANY children in my house.
One thing I don't love is mess and clutter, but you wouldn't know that to look in my windows right now. (No, you're not actually coming in the door!) Just because something bugs me doesn't mean I am going to DO anything about it.
That's not really fair, though. I do keep house...sort of. I know what I should do during the day and what my house should look like. I do keep things well enough that they aren't dangerous or unsanitary. I really just hate to spend all my time trying to bail out a sinking boat. With kids around - especially MY kids, there is only so much I can do before it feels like I am chasing my own tail.
I have tried several different ways to try and get things under control and running in a smooth way. I think I fall short in the consistency area. In truth, my kids keep things together much better than I do. They thrive on routines and schedules much more than I ever have. I didn't grow up having specific routines so it is hard for my brain to wrap around the ability to follow something like that. I love that they can be a little better at keeping things together than I am.
A few years ago, I found a website by a woman called FLYLady. (Some of you know her, and those that do will be able to understand this a lot better.) FLYLady is a woman named Marla Cilley who lives is NC and runs a website to help disorganized people get their houses clean and their minds in order. She has books, music CD's, and even housecleaning tips and tools. Her way of doing thing sounded really interesting and a little wacky, so I tried to follow her guidelines for awhile.
The routines she recommends will help your house get clean, your laundry under control, your kids fed healthy homemade dinner every night, and even help you lose weight and be a better person. This sounds like a tall tale, but it works for a lot of people. She recommends creating a routine every day that starts with a few small steps and cleaning chores. Small cleaning habits build on each other until you are doing them without realizing it, even before they need to be done and eventually everything becomes clean and tidy and wonderful. As I said, that is the way it seems to work for a lot of people.
I have managed to take a few of her tips to heart and they have helped me to one extent or another. Making the bed, for one thing, helps my bedroom look a lot less crummy and sometimes it keeps me from crawling back in bed after the kids go to school. Doing one load of laundry (at least) every day helps make sure that everyone has what they need for school and work. Keeping your sink clean and shiny (yes, even shiny) helps you to respect the empty sink and take care of your dirty dishes as they appear instead of when you have a sink full of nastiness.
The thing that has helped me the most is to have a list of the things you should do every day, and do them in the same order every day. This is also the thing I have the hardest time following. My kids on the other hand, love it. They have a much easier time sticking to their lists than I ever have. In fact, most of the time, all I need to tell them in the morning or before bed is, "Check your list. Have you done everything you need to do?"
It has made a major improvement in Little Heart's health. She has to take several medications once and twice a day. You would think that after 12 years of doing this EVERY DAY OF HER LIFE, she would just do it without thinking. Still, she will forget if we don't remind her to check her list. If I get lax about reminding her, she will forget and then she will feel yucky all day because of it. When she remembers and sticks to her routine, the medicine works better, she feels better, and she has more energy.
When the kids follow their routines, it benefits me more than them, I think. Because they have laid out their clothes the night before, getting ready in the morning takes 1/4 of the time it used to which makes my life much easier. After school, they know that once they get home they have to put away their backpacks, change out of their uniforms, have a snack, and then get homework done before anything else. In the evening, I tell them to get ready for bed by 8:00 and they will be ready to go to sleep before 8:30 even with showers thrown in there. That gives me more free time in the evening ('cause you know, I need more free time...) Besides that, having a predictable pattern of events for them to follow makes for much fewer arguments and a lot less nagging. That makes me happier in the long run, because I really don't want to nag at them. I notice a general improvement in behavior altogether when I enforce the routines and they get a long with each other a little more, too.
So, if all this is so great, why don't I do it? That is a complicated question to answer. Part of it is probably just sheer laziness. I don't want to get off my butt and do what I am supposed to do. Another part of it is that if I do stick to a routine, and things start to become all clean and pretty around here, what happens when I stop? The mess will pile up worse than before and I will be kicking myself not only for the current mess but because I could have prevented it, but I failed. In my mind, I am doomed to fail because I know I am not capable of keeping up any level of consistency for very long. That sounds fatalistic, but that is my whole problem. I don't have any faith in my own ability to take care of things.
There is another, even more sinister reason that I resist the whole routine thing. I am as afraid of success as I am of failure. It has taken me a long time to figure this out an come to terms with it and I haven't yet found a way to get past it. There is a part of my mind that thinks that I am just not good or worthy enough to have a nice home to live in and a stress-free day to enjoy. Other people have it together, but not me, and working that hard to achieve something like this is just a denial of the truth. I don't deserve to have a calm, clean, inviting home any more than I deserve to have a well paying job, or to actually be healthy enough to participate in daily activities. Again, I know it is twisted, but there IS a part of me that thinks like that. My Sane Brain (the one that kicks in when I am thinking clearly) knows that this is nonsense and isn't true at all. The Gray Monster, however, has other plans for me.
I'm not blaming my entire pig sty on Depression, although it does play a big part of it.It is just one of the many issues I have been dealing with for the past few years. Pain, fatigue, difficulty concentrating and remembering things, and a general lack of interest in life have all helped to contribute to the overall problem around here. Like Depression, the mess tends to wax and wane in some sort of a cycle that isn't very predictable. I would definitely say that the two issues are directly related and are most likely influenced by each other.
Procrastination is another demon I face every day. It is in my nature to put things off until I absolutely have to and then nearly kill myself trying to do them. I know it only makes more work in the long run. I know that Smart People take care of their business when they need to and not only when they have to. My Sane Brain doesn't always kick in when it should, though, so the dishes do wait until they are everywhere and the laundry is primarily done by Darling Husband. In my defense, I prefer him to at least wash and dry the laundry because he is very particular about it. I am fine with only having to fold and put away the clothes after they are clean. But, I also put this off until he has washed and dried five loads and I have to spend more than a few hours taking care of it. Of course, by then my back hurts, I am cranky, the kids balk at helping with such a huge pile, and I never want to look at the laundry room again.
Starting today, I am going to try and change this un-pattern of events. I want to have a company-ready house all the time. I want to feel like I am on top of things again. I don't want to feel guilty that I am home all day and I haven't done what I needed to do. Most of all, I want to be proud of my home and proud of myself. I know I can do this because I have achieved (although only briefly) several times in the past. I am going to follow the wise words of my dear FLYLady and not worry about being behind, I am going to jump in where I am. Progress, not Perfection has been something I have striven for but now it will become my motto.
Stay tuned to see if I can actually accomplish even half of what I have aspired to!
Tuesday, January 5, 2010
Thursday, December 31, 2009
2010, huh?
I have to say I'm a little disappointed. It's 2010 and there are no flying cars, transport machines, faster than light travel, and we haven't contacted any other lifeforms from outer space (although, one might have just moved in down the street from me. MIB is looking into it.) I was hoping that technology would have progressed a little more than super small music players and extra large televisions, but I'm not a scientist, so what would I really know? Maybe all these things are already out there and they are just restricted by The Man or something. If so, Let Them Free! If not, get on it guys! I want to move to a new planet with longer years and less gravity so I can be young and skinny again!
Anyway, I really would like to see some progression in the new year. Politically (and I never discuss politics) things have been a little up and down. Our country is led by someone new and different and his entire staff is new and different, too. (Okay, they aren't entirely new, but you have to agree that they are different.) I won't say if I agree or disagree with the way things are going. That would hint at who I voted for and I haven't even told my husband that. I will say that I hope whatever changes are made create a better place for us to live, and maybe eventually work in. While I'm at it, I hope to actually work for a change.
We lost a lot of really big names this year, especially in the last few months. These young celebrities will have some big shoes to fill. Can you imagine anyone even trying to duplicate the infamy of Michael Jackson? He was so much more than the owner of a trained chimp and the father of mysteriously begotten (but never really seen) children. There are very few models who will ever be as well known as the incredibly beautiful Farah Fawcett. What a tragic end to a sparkling woman. And, what man today can be just as sexy in tight jeans as he is an a silk pantsuit and pearl necklace? Patrick Swayze, you are already dearly missed! (I have a sudden inspiration to take up ball room dancing and cross dressing, now.) I hope that the next round of starlets have the proper respect and understand just what they should aspire to become.
Personally this was a big year for me. I will have more W-2's coming this year than ever before! I have broken my previous record for the amount of fees paid to my banking institution. I have learned 63 different ways to re-prepare leftovers. I have even brushed up on my math skills while trying to calculate just how many miles I can get from $2.33 worth of gas. Over the last 12 months, I have lost (and then gained) more pounds than I really care to count (but I'm sure there was a record broken somewhere in there.) I have donated more pounds of clutter than I bothered to count (I can only tell you it was roughly enough to fill up my entire garage.) The first silver streak appeared in my hair (no, not a strand - a STREAK.) I joined Facebook and started my first Blog. (Thank you, my loyal readers. Both of you.) And I finally, after all these years got my nipples pierced. (okay, that last part isn't true, but I almost did it. Really.)
My family has had a pretty major year, too. Little Heart had a heart cath early in the year and has moved one step closer to becoming the bionic child with two stints in placed in her aorta. (no electric or moving machine parts, yet, but I have a lead on a scientist and his experimental nanobots!) She also managed to break the same arm as she did three years ago, but in a completely different place, and she decided to to it on Christmas instead of Thanksgiving! (She's so considerate, that one,) Tiny Dancer got to be a real ballerina (even if only for a little while.) She lost her first two teeth (two days apart) and managed to lose every penny of the Tooth Fairy money before spending a dime. Evil Genius has made it through an entire semester without cold-cocking her locker mate (we are very proud.) She has also perfected her Evil Genius Theme Song. (it's a cross between Darth Vader's theme and the opening tune to Mickey Mouse Club House.) She also lost her first tooth (much to the shame of TD.) Dear Hubby got to build his very own Man Cave in the garage (I am working on the window trimmings as we speak.) My own mother got remarried and moved out of state. Sister #1 moved IN state. Sister #2 had a baby, again. Sister #3 found a boyfriend who holds a regular job. Brother...well, he just IS, but at least I got to see him this year! Even my father got a car of his own and has been a regular socialite visiting all his kids and grand kids and helping everybody out. (Okay, it's mostly me, but but I can't help but be a little stingy with him. He cooks CHICKEN STEW from scratch for me!) Even my dog had a major surgery during the year (you have never seen anything as funny...er, I mean, sad, than a large, black, frolicking, dog on painkillers.)
With the whirlwind that has been 2009, I would like things to settle down a bit during the next year. You know, stabilize a little. I have been trying so hard to keep up with everything and everybody that I am just out of breath. I don't want to party this New Years Eve. I want to SLEEP!
I would make some New Year's Resolutions, but they never seem to work out for me. The one year, I decided to go back to school, I spent mostly in my kids school having parent/teacher conferences. Whenever I vow to lose 20 pounds, the only thing I lose is 20 pounds of clothes that are too small for me. Making those mushy resolutions are no help either. Love more, cry less, be a better person, hope for peace...yadda, yadda, yadda. None of those can actually be MEASURED. I want to know, for sure, that I have completely destroyed any hope of achieving my goals by February, not just "hope."
So, this year I am going to make reasonable goals that I might actually achieve. Here's what I have come up with:
1) Clean my toilet. (seriously, who wants to wake up and realize they haven't done THAT in a year.)
2) Buy a lottery ticket. (you can't win if you don't play!)
3) Eat cake on my birthday. (you might laugh, but you just don't know the PAIN of a cake-less birthday)
4) Find the bottom of my laundry basket (I doubt the clothes will actually get cleaned, but I haven't seen it in such a long time...maybe I'll just move them around a bit...)
5) I wanted to come up with something REALLY cool for #5, but I can't so I'll just resolve to do #3 twice. (Does that still count?)
Here are a few things I resolve NOT to do:
1) Spend more time looking at stupid cat pictures than writing.
2) Consume more calories in ice cream or wine than in vegetables. (notice, I said OR, not AND.)
3) Answer the door in my PJ's (unless he is really cute and so are my PJ's.)
4) Drive around lost for more than 30 minutes without calling someone to figure out where I am.
5) Embarrass my kids in public my singing Britney Spears songs at high volume while imitating the "Oops I did it again!" dance from the video. (that is such a hard habit to break...)
So here's to a new year, and maybe a new pair of shoes...I'm thinking some leopard print kitten heels, because that would be sooooo ironic.
Anyway, I really would like to see some progression in the new year. Politically (and I never discuss politics) things have been a little up and down. Our country is led by someone new and different and his entire staff is new and different, too. (Okay, they aren't entirely new, but you have to agree that they are different.) I won't say if I agree or disagree with the way things are going. That would hint at who I voted for and I haven't even told my husband that. I will say that I hope whatever changes are made create a better place for us to live, and maybe eventually work in. While I'm at it, I hope to actually work for a change.
We lost a lot of really big names this year, especially in the last few months. These young celebrities will have some big shoes to fill. Can you imagine anyone even trying to duplicate the infamy of Michael Jackson? He was so much more than the owner of a trained chimp and the father of mysteriously begotten (but never really seen) children. There are very few models who will ever be as well known as the incredibly beautiful Farah Fawcett. What a tragic end to a sparkling woman. And, what man today can be just as sexy in tight jeans as he is an a silk pantsuit and pearl necklace? Patrick Swayze, you are already dearly missed! (I have a sudden inspiration to take up ball room dancing and cross dressing, now.) I hope that the next round of starlets have the proper respect and understand just what they should aspire to become.
Personally this was a big year for me. I will have more W-2's coming this year than ever before! I have broken my previous record for the amount of fees paid to my banking institution. I have learned 63 different ways to re-prepare leftovers. I have even brushed up on my math skills while trying to calculate just how many miles I can get from $2.33 worth of gas. Over the last 12 months, I have lost (and then gained) more pounds than I really care to count (but I'm sure there was a record broken somewhere in there.) I have donated more pounds of clutter than I bothered to count (I can only tell you it was roughly enough to fill up my entire garage.) The first silver streak appeared in my hair (no, not a strand - a STREAK.) I joined Facebook and started my first Blog. (Thank you, my loyal readers. Both of you.) And I finally, after all these years got my nipples pierced. (okay, that last part isn't true, but I almost did it. Really.)
My family has had a pretty major year, too. Little Heart had a heart cath early in the year and has moved one step closer to becoming the bionic child with two stints in placed in her aorta. (no electric or moving machine parts, yet, but I have a lead on a scientist and his experimental nanobots!) She also managed to break the same arm as she did three years ago, but in a completely different place, and she decided to to it on Christmas instead of Thanksgiving! (She's so considerate, that one,) Tiny Dancer got to be a real ballerina (even if only for a little while.) She lost her first two teeth (two days apart) and managed to lose every penny of the Tooth Fairy money before spending a dime. Evil Genius has made it through an entire semester without cold-cocking her locker mate (we are very proud.) She has also perfected her Evil Genius Theme Song. (it's a cross between Darth Vader's theme and the opening tune to Mickey Mouse Club House.) She also lost her first tooth (much to the shame of TD.) Dear Hubby got to build his very own Man Cave in the garage (I am working on the window trimmings as we speak.) My own mother got remarried and moved out of state. Sister #1 moved IN state. Sister #2 had a baby, again. Sister #3 found a boyfriend who holds a regular job. Brother...well, he just IS, but at least I got to see him this year! Even my father got a car of his own and has been a regular socialite visiting all his kids and grand kids and helping everybody out. (Okay, it's mostly me, but but I can't help but be a little stingy with him. He cooks CHICKEN STEW from scratch for me!) Even my dog had a major surgery during the year (you have never seen anything as funny...er, I mean, sad, than a large, black, frolicking, dog on painkillers.)
With the whirlwind that has been 2009, I would like things to settle down a bit during the next year. You know, stabilize a little. I have been trying so hard to keep up with everything and everybody that I am just out of breath. I don't want to party this New Years Eve. I want to SLEEP!
I would make some New Year's Resolutions, but they never seem to work out for me. The one year, I decided to go back to school, I spent mostly in my kids school having parent/teacher conferences. Whenever I vow to lose 20 pounds, the only thing I lose is 20 pounds of clothes that are too small for me. Making those mushy resolutions are no help either. Love more, cry less, be a better person, hope for peace...yadda, yadda, yadda. None of those can actually be MEASURED. I want to know, for sure, that I have completely destroyed any hope of achieving my goals by February, not just "hope."
So, this year I am going to make reasonable goals that I might actually achieve. Here's what I have come up with:
1) Clean my toilet. (seriously, who wants to wake up and realize they haven't done THAT in a year.)
2) Buy a lottery ticket. (you can't win if you don't play!)
3) Eat cake on my birthday. (you might laugh, but you just don't know the PAIN of a cake-less birthday)
4) Find the bottom of my laundry basket (I doubt the clothes will actually get cleaned, but I haven't seen it in such a long time...maybe I'll just move them around a bit...)
5) I wanted to come up with something REALLY cool for #5, but I can't so I'll just resolve to do #3 twice. (Does that still count?)
Here are a few things I resolve NOT to do:
1) Spend more time looking at stupid cat pictures than writing.
2) Consume more calories in ice cream or wine than in vegetables. (notice, I said OR, not AND.)
3) Answer the door in my PJ's (unless he is really cute and so are my PJ's.)
4) Drive around lost for more than 30 minutes without calling someone to figure out where I am.
5) Embarrass my kids in public my singing Britney Spears songs at high volume while imitating the "Oops I did it again!" dance from the video. (that is such a hard habit to break...)
So here's to a new year, and maybe a new pair of shoes...I'm thinking some leopard print kitten heels, because that would be sooooo ironic.
Should I feel guilty?
I found out today that a teacher of mine from high school passed away. Of course, I feel sad, because I always feel sad when someone I know dies. The uncomfortable part is that, well, I didn't really like her all that much. I don't like to speak ill of the dead. It just isn't proper or polite. But, being dead doesn't mean you were always nice, fair, and good. Just because you have passed on, doesn't mean everyone you meet suddenly remembers only the fond things about you and forgets everything else.
I guess I am not proper or polite. I don't wish to offend any of the people who loved her dearly. The following isn't so much about her, but how I saw things back then and how they affect my life today.
High school is a very important part of a person's life. The social dynamics of who's who and the pecking order that falls out of it is something that will always linger with you whether you liked it or not. For the popular, they might use the confidence they gained and become great in their future lives. Or maybe they will trip and fail, wallowing in the disappointment that High School was the best they ever had and ever will have. The Underdog might become a CEO of a major corporation in a fabulous display of "Look What I Did!" They might also choose to live their lives in the shadow of the shame or embarrassment of always being picked last for the team or missing out on Homecoming Queen.
That isn't who I want to be. I am not trying to sound like that crazy old lady that can't get past her school aged days and constantly blames all her problems on "That One Teacher." Ms. Volk was my choir teacher for three out of the four years I was in high school. That meant I saw her more than I saw any other teacher and because of that, she was able to make a pretty big impact on my daily life. Ms. Volk was not the only teacher that influenced me and she wasn't even really the strongest. I'm sure she had good reasons for making the choices she did. I just wish she could have been more up-front about it.
She wasn't an awful person to me or most people. She was an extraordinary teacher. Of that, there is no doubt at all. I just didn't get along with her and I always got the impression that I was a nuisance and a bother to her. I really wanted to sing more than anything back then. I thought I was pretty good at it, even. I loved performing with a choir, too, and reading music, and listening to music. (Mozart's Requiem still gives me goosebumps to this day.) I don't think she ever saw me that way, though.
She was extremely driven and always had been from what she told us. She wanted us to sound the best that we could and occasionally that meant asking someone to mouth the words during a particular song or maybe just sing very quietly, please. If she had ever asked that of me, I would have known where I stood with her and I would have quietly changed my schedule to Home Ec. or something and been done with it. She never mentioned anything much to me, though. I never knew if I was simply a mediocre singer or if she just didn't care enough to comment.
Ms. Volk took over from another teacher just after the start of my sophomore year. (As would be expected, there was much talk about why he left, but no confirmation so I can't really say why.) Under our previous teacher our choir did "okay" in competition and we always "looked good" on stage. But, when Ms. Volk took over she ran things completely differently. She took managed to take "okay" and turn it into "outstanding." We got sweepstakes at UIL that year and had more students placed in the State Choir than any other school, from what I remember. There was actually some serious trouble that year when the judges found out that she had written previously some of the sight reading pieces that were used for the competition. None of us had seen any of the pieces before and none of us would have dreamed of actually trying to cheat for the sake of a high score, but the judges thought it was awfully strange that we did so well all of the sudden when we barely made a wave before. Basically, the choir did so much better under her tutelage that no one believed it was possible. All charges were dropped against her and us and we kept our Sweepstakes scores after all, but I think she tried extra hard after that to be both transparent to all the judges and superior as a teacher.
So, there is an amazing amount of evidence that she was fantastic as a choir director. I also know that many of her students have wonderful memories of her and of her work. I am so glad that she made such a positive impact on those students. I know several students completely bloomed under her. I also must state that there was an amazing amount of raw talent present that she inherited from the previous teacher. It is a testament to her skill that she was able to use that talent to such great success.
Unfortunately, I was neither a member who owned the "raw talent" nor did I bloom very much. In fact, by the time I graduated, I was pretty bitter about the whole experience. Part of me wants to get really irate and scream about how mean she was to me. That wouldn't be fair, though. I can't say she was actually mean, just rather indifferent. In a choir filled with lots of drama and social dynamics, I felt like I was just not a part of the whole picture. I never made it into the advanced level choir, called A Capella. Everyone else that started in the beginner choir was eventually moved up except for me. I can't deny that I was very hurt about that. I guess I took it personally. I had done very well in choir before she became my teacher but apparently I wasn't up to her level of talent. I felt as if I was ignored and passed over for some reason that I could never figure out. Maybe she felt that I didn't work hard enough to warrant being with the more serious and talented singers. Maybe she thought I didn't practice enough, or that I didn't learn fast enough. Maybe it had nothing to do with me? Perhaps she just figured that my last choir teacher didn't advance me for a good reason and left it at that. Did I really suck as a singer? Was there a personal issue I needed to deal with that prevented me from being A Capella material? Whatever reasons she had, she never shared them with me.
After I didn't make it to the advanced choir my third year, I started working extra hard to show her that I was "worthy." Then, she assigned me the office of "Librarian" for the beginning choir. What should have been an honor and a sign that I was both mature and reliable felt more like a slap in the face to me. It was as if I was being told that I was not good enough to be considered a singer, but I didn't have the intelligence to figure it out on my own. Here was this "job" to keep me busy since I couldn't sing, but I was obviously going to persist in being a part of the choir. Maybe that wasn't the idea she was trying to get across. I couldn't say. I was 16 and deeply swayed by my teen aged cynicism. I was heartbroken that I wasn't considered "quality" in the one talent I felt I had.
Hindsight being 20/20, I can see several opportunities that I passed up that would have most likely changed her opinion of me. I missed a few performances, which was simply the worst thing to do in the eyes of your teacher. They weren't my fault, but that really couldn't make a difference. I attended all that I was able to but didn't actually sing at most of them. Every time there was an event, it seemed like I got a cold and a sore throat and then I lost my voice just in time for the actual show. It actually got worse each year. Maybe it was psychosomatic, that I was afraid of actually performing.
My senior year my fellow classmates elected me President of the choir. It was not much of a boost to me. There was only one other senior in our class by then, and usually it was one of the oldest girls who was elected. I just couldn't help taking it personally at that point. As President I can't say I did very much. I don't actually remember having any duties other than when the teacher was out I was supposed to help run everyone through practicing. That really wasn't as important as it sounded. It made me very unpopular when she wasn't around, probably because I didn't have the social finesse to be in charge and get respect at the same time. I suppose it was a "learning" time for me.
I was going through a tough time at home and in my social life, and I had a flair for the dramatic. It could be that I just annoyed the hell out of her. I was never extremely popular, though, I did have plenty of friends. Maybe she felt I wouldn't be a good fit because of that. All I know is that I felt so isolated and left out. All my classmates were learning real music and I was stuck being the top of the lower heap. I really stopped caring whether she liked me or not. I figured I must not be a very good singer and I was pretty lame for not taking a hint sooner than that.
I felt back then, and I still do, that maybe if I had been given a small chance, an opportunity to succeed, perhaps I would have done much better. If I had been given a small boost of confidence or even a compliment, I think I might have done things much differently. If I felt that working hard would actually had paid off I would have bent over backwards to do what I need to do. When I did work hard it seemed to have no effect at all. A little support and even constructive criticism would have gone so far. Singing was the only thing I really wanted to do but I couldn't work hard enough to succeed at it. That can be a hard thing to overcome.
I can't say that this has ruined my life. I have a wonderful husband (which would have really surprised her, I think.) I have three beautiful daughters, all of whom are artists in their own way (I have a visual artist, a dancer, and musician.) My life is filled with blessings every day. I have not lost my love for music one bit. I have, however, lost any confidence I once had in singing. Many of my friends from school have gone on to be performers or music teachers or both. Karaoke is apparently great fun, and I should really try it some time. The thought of signing in front of anyone other than my kids makes me kind of want to throw up, though. I once tried to get back into the singers' way of things, but I haven't sung with a choir in several years now. I often sing in the car, but that is as close to a public performance as I get.
I don't blame Ms. Volk for destroying my self esteem. If I didn't cultivate my musical skill it falls on my shoulders and no one else. The decision to let something like this guide my life or to get past it is no one's choice but mine. I have to admit, though, that I still feel a little hurt about the whole choir experience. I'm sure I'm taking this too personally. After all, there were literally hundreds of other students that this teacher had to teach and I was just one, and obviously not the most promising one at that. I can't help but feel shuffled aside though. It makes me sad that I probably will never sing in front of people, like I wanted. But, I refuse to be that person who sings poorly and doesn't know it and no one is confident or rude enough to tell her.
This is a lousy obituary for someone who affected and guided so many students throughout her career. Regardless of my personal opinion, I hope her family will find peace and I am sorry for their loss. May she rest in peace.
I guess I am not proper or polite. I don't wish to offend any of the people who loved her dearly. The following isn't so much about her, but how I saw things back then and how they affect my life today.
High school is a very important part of a person's life. The social dynamics of who's who and the pecking order that falls out of it is something that will always linger with you whether you liked it or not. For the popular, they might use the confidence they gained and become great in their future lives. Or maybe they will trip and fail, wallowing in the disappointment that High School was the best they ever had and ever will have. The Underdog might become a CEO of a major corporation in a fabulous display of "Look What I Did!" They might also choose to live their lives in the shadow of the shame or embarrassment of always being picked last for the team or missing out on Homecoming Queen.
That isn't who I want to be. I am not trying to sound like that crazy old lady that can't get past her school aged days and constantly blames all her problems on "That One Teacher." Ms. Volk was my choir teacher for three out of the four years I was in high school. That meant I saw her more than I saw any other teacher and because of that, she was able to make a pretty big impact on my daily life. Ms. Volk was not the only teacher that influenced me and she wasn't even really the strongest. I'm sure she had good reasons for making the choices she did. I just wish she could have been more up-front about it.
She wasn't an awful person to me or most people. She was an extraordinary teacher. Of that, there is no doubt at all. I just didn't get along with her and I always got the impression that I was a nuisance and a bother to her. I really wanted to sing more than anything back then. I thought I was pretty good at it, even. I loved performing with a choir, too, and reading music, and listening to music. (Mozart's Requiem still gives me goosebumps to this day.) I don't think she ever saw me that way, though.
She was extremely driven and always had been from what she told us. She wanted us to sound the best that we could and occasionally that meant asking someone to mouth the words during a particular song or maybe just sing very quietly, please. If she had ever asked that of me, I would have known where I stood with her and I would have quietly changed my schedule to Home Ec. or something and been done with it. She never mentioned anything much to me, though. I never knew if I was simply a mediocre singer or if she just didn't care enough to comment.
Ms. Volk took over from another teacher just after the start of my sophomore year. (As would be expected, there was much talk about why he left, but no confirmation so I can't really say why.) Under our previous teacher our choir did "okay" in competition and we always "looked good" on stage. But, when Ms. Volk took over she ran things completely differently. She took managed to take "okay" and turn it into "outstanding." We got sweepstakes at UIL that year and had more students placed in the State Choir than any other school, from what I remember. There was actually some serious trouble that year when the judges found out that she had written previously some of the sight reading pieces that were used for the competition. None of us had seen any of the pieces before and none of us would have dreamed of actually trying to cheat for the sake of a high score, but the judges thought it was awfully strange that we did so well all of the sudden when we barely made a wave before. Basically, the choir did so much better under her tutelage that no one believed it was possible. All charges were dropped against her and us and we kept our Sweepstakes scores after all, but I think she tried extra hard after that to be both transparent to all the judges and superior as a teacher.
So, there is an amazing amount of evidence that she was fantastic as a choir director. I also know that many of her students have wonderful memories of her and of her work. I am so glad that she made such a positive impact on those students. I know several students completely bloomed under her. I also must state that there was an amazing amount of raw talent present that she inherited from the previous teacher. It is a testament to her skill that she was able to use that talent to such great success.
Unfortunately, I was neither a member who owned the "raw talent" nor did I bloom very much. In fact, by the time I graduated, I was pretty bitter about the whole experience. Part of me wants to get really irate and scream about how mean she was to me. That wouldn't be fair, though. I can't say she was actually mean, just rather indifferent. In a choir filled with lots of drama and social dynamics, I felt like I was just not a part of the whole picture. I never made it into the advanced level choir, called A Capella. Everyone else that started in the beginner choir was eventually moved up except for me. I can't deny that I was very hurt about that. I guess I took it personally. I had done very well in choir before she became my teacher but apparently I wasn't up to her level of talent. I felt as if I was ignored and passed over for some reason that I could never figure out. Maybe she felt that I didn't work hard enough to warrant being with the more serious and talented singers. Maybe she thought I didn't practice enough, or that I didn't learn fast enough. Maybe it had nothing to do with me? Perhaps she just figured that my last choir teacher didn't advance me for a good reason and left it at that. Did I really suck as a singer? Was there a personal issue I needed to deal with that prevented me from being A Capella material? Whatever reasons she had, she never shared them with me.
After I didn't make it to the advanced choir my third year, I started working extra hard to show her that I was "worthy." Then, she assigned me the office of "Librarian" for the beginning choir. What should have been an honor and a sign that I was both mature and reliable felt more like a slap in the face to me. It was as if I was being told that I was not good enough to be considered a singer, but I didn't have the intelligence to figure it out on my own. Here was this "job" to keep me busy since I couldn't sing, but I was obviously going to persist in being a part of the choir. Maybe that wasn't the idea she was trying to get across. I couldn't say. I was 16 and deeply swayed by my teen aged cynicism. I was heartbroken that I wasn't considered "quality" in the one talent I felt I had.
Hindsight being 20/20, I can see several opportunities that I passed up that would have most likely changed her opinion of me. I missed a few performances, which was simply the worst thing to do in the eyes of your teacher. They weren't my fault, but that really couldn't make a difference. I attended all that I was able to but didn't actually sing at most of them. Every time there was an event, it seemed like I got a cold and a sore throat and then I lost my voice just in time for the actual show. It actually got worse each year. Maybe it was psychosomatic, that I was afraid of actually performing.
My senior year my fellow classmates elected me President of the choir. It was not much of a boost to me. There was only one other senior in our class by then, and usually it was one of the oldest girls who was elected. I just couldn't help taking it personally at that point. As President I can't say I did very much. I don't actually remember having any duties other than when the teacher was out I was supposed to help run everyone through practicing. That really wasn't as important as it sounded. It made me very unpopular when she wasn't around, probably because I didn't have the social finesse to be in charge and get respect at the same time. I suppose it was a "learning" time for me.
I was going through a tough time at home and in my social life, and I had a flair for the dramatic. It could be that I just annoyed the hell out of her. I was never extremely popular, though, I did have plenty of friends. Maybe she felt I wouldn't be a good fit because of that. All I know is that I felt so isolated and left out. All my classmates were learning real music and I was stuck being the top of the lower heap. I really stopped caring whether she liked me or not. I figured I must not be a very good singer and I was pretty lame for not taking a hint sooner than that.
I felt back then, and I still do, that maybe if I had been given a small chance, an opportunity to succeed, perhaps I would have done much better. If I had been given a small boost of confidence or even a compliment, I think I might have done things much differently. If I felt that working hard would actually had paid off I would have bent over backwards to do what I need to do. When I did work hard it seemed to have no effect at all. A little support and even constructive criticism would have gone so far. Singing was the only thing I really wanted to do but I couldn't work hard enough to succeed at it. That can be a hard thing to overcome.
I can't say that this has ruined my life. I have a wonderful husband (which would have really surprised her, I think.) I have three beautiful daughters, all of whom are artists in their own way (I have a visual artist, a dancer, and musician.) My life is filled with blessings every day. I have not lost my love for music one bit. I have, however, lost any confidence I once had in singing. Many of my friends from school have gone on to be performers or music teachers or both. Karaoke is apparently great fun, and I should really try it some time. The thought of signing in front of anyone other than my kids makes me kind of want to throw up, though. I once tried to get back into the singers' way of things, but I haven't sung with a choir in several years now. I often sing in the car, but that is as close to a public performance as I get.
I don't blame Ms. Volk for destroying my self esteem. If I didn't cultivate my musical skill it falls on my shoulders and no one else. The decision to let something like this guide my life or to get past it is no one's choice but mine. I have to admit, though, that I still feel a little hurt about the whole choir experience. I'm sure I'm taking this too personally. After all, there were literally hundreds of other students that this teacher had to teach and I was just one, and obviously not the most promising one at that. I can't help but feel shuffled aside though. It makes me sad that I probably will never sing in front of people, like I wanted. But, I refuse to be that person who sings poorly and doesn't know it and no one is confident or rude enough to tell her.
This is a lousy obituary for someone who affected and guided so many students throughout her career. Regardless of my personal opinion, I hope her family will find peace and I am sorry for their loss. May she rest in peace.
Monday, December 28, 2009
Fun and Exciting
LH has a broken wrist.
It isn't all that bad. It was diagnosed as a right radial buckle fracture which means the bones smooshed a little when she fell on them. The bones are not displaced from each other so there is no need to set it and it should probably heal pretty well on its own. We will be heading to the ortho on Thursday morning (way too early) to get more x-rays and see if the fracture will require a cast, a brace, or nothing at all. She doesn't hurt very much and she is doing fine getting around with the temporary expansion cast.
The incident happened on the 23rd, while family was visiting and LH was enjoying the nice weather. She decided to ride her bike and was trying to learn how to ride while standing up. Thankfully, she had on her helmet and she actually was holding on to the handlebars when she hit something and proceeded to fly superman-style over the handlebars.
At first it looked like she just had a case of road rash on her left elbow and a her right palm was a little bit scratched up. I was more worried about the elbow than than the wrist. After I cleaned her up and gave her some bandages, she was right back out playing (although the bike was quickly moved to the back yard where it has stayed). She had no visible bruising or swelling in her right wrist and there was no indication that anything was wrong at all, except for her inability to lift more than pound or so.
I feel pretty awful right now, because I really didn't think it was anything to really worry about. I thought she might be over-reacting. I thought she might have a slight sprain. I have fallen so many times and strained my wrist in the process. I know that there is very little to do about it other than ice it, wrap it, and take some Tylenol. I gave her a wrist brace to wear for a day or two, and I figured that wold take care of it. After two days, she told me it still hurt, so I grudgingly took her in for x-rays on Sunday afternoon.
I also have to mention that there was another injury that she was dealing with that had me much more concerned. She developed a small staph infection around her left thumbnail. I also know very well how to take care of things like this (having been a terrible nail-biter growing up) so I did what I could here at A few days before, I made an appointment for her to see the pediatrician about it, but I ended up canceling and trying to take care of it here. After 10 days, though, it didn't seem better, and it actually started to seem worse. When I took her into Children's hospital for the wrist, I was planning to ask the staff to look at the thumb as well.
It turned out that both of the injuries were, indeed, something to worry about. Now I really felt horrible for waiting so long to take her in. The nurses brought in an expansion cast first. After a few minutes she was splinted and had the arm propped in a sling. No problem there. But, when the nurses saw the thumb, they started to call in other doctors for observation and I knew there was going to be a little more to deal with. They wanted to attack the infection aggressively because if it were to spread, it could very quickly become a blood borne infection that could travel to her heart and infect the stints that she had placed just last year. They decided to give her an hour's worth of IV antibiotics and to lance and clean out the wound so it could heal more easily.
The major issue here is that LH is phobic of needles. I don't mean "oh, please don't stick me!" kind of scared. I mean running around, screaming, turning white, kicking, punching, pushing and needing multiple nurses hold her down for one booster shot kind of scared.
When the nurse came in and explained what was going to happen, she turned white. Then they brought in their best tech to handle things and she started to panic as soon as she saw the IV kit. The technician was named Zachary and he was just awesome, though. He was patient, kind, and straightforward and really helped to keep the process moving without letting LH stall too long. It was about 30 minutes of prep for her and 2 seconds of "pricking" to get it over with. She was pretty brave about it, all things considered and only yelled some, and cried a little, and didn't fight at all.
There was a teensy problem, though. Zachary promised her only one stick. It was only 15 minutes later they came in to tell us what they were going to do for her thumb. This entailed FOUR shots of numbing stuff and then the poking of the thumb where it hurt the most. I can tell you that LH was completely pissed about that. She had been getting through everything so far with the idea that she wouldn't have to deal with anymore needles and now they were coming right back in with more stuff to stick her with.
She told me the biggest reason she hates all of this is that the doctors and nurses always tell her that the shots won't hurt, but they always do. In her mind there is no such thing as an acceptable level of pain. You either hurt or you don't. To say that a shot doesn't hurt is a complete lie to her and she feels very betrayed by that. I can't really say I blame her. She is so used to having to just sit and deal with pain, and pokes, and medicines that taste like crap that by now she just doesn't want any more.
As a mother, it is heartbreaking to see your child upset, or sick, or in pain. It is a thousand times worse, I think, to see them in a panic. There is almost nothing you can do about it, except be there for them until they can get their senses back and calm down. I have learned the best way to keep calm and try not to add to her panic, and I know where to stand so I'm not in the way of the technicians but LH can still see me. I have still shed tears almost as often as she has during shots, IV's, and blood drawing. She becomes a completely different child all of the sudden and it is heartbreaking. She swings back and forth between "Wait, just give me another minute to calm down!" and "I'm so sorry I am acting like such a baby!"
By the time the nurses came in to handle the thumb, I guess they just didn't want to drag it out any more so there was very little waiting and talking. They just kind of pushed through and did it. I think she did her best but she was so panicked and angry that there was not a whole lot of coping left in her. There was a LOT of screaming. I have told her that if she has to yell in order to keep still, she can yell all she wants. She takes that as far as she absolutely can, I think. It still took one nurse to hold her hand and another to actually give her the shots and lance the thumb, but we didn't need anyone to actually hold the rest of her down, and that is an improvement over the past few "episodes." She thrashed and kicked a bit, but when she realized that the nurses were going to stick her no matter what, sh relaxed and just started screaming as loud as she could. Better that than a choke hold and restraining straps. You think I'm kidding about that, don't you?
I really don't think the Novocaine, or whatever they use, really works all that well on her. They used a topical solution on her IV site, and she still felt everything. They used a topical cream on her thumb for 30 minutes before they came in with the shots and she still felt everything they did there, too. Her father has the same problem. He has to have roughly twice the amount of Novocaine as anyone else does when he goes to the dentist. Perhaps it runs in the family.
I think the worst part of all of this is that needles, shots, and IV's are a way of life for her. The cardiologist has never had to use them, thank goodness, but the pediatrician has to every year for a flu shot, at the minimum. She also has to go in every few years for a heart cath to check the internal pressures of her heart and the valves so she gets to get poked, knocked out, and wakes up with bandages around her legs whenever that happens.
I have wished so many times that I could take her place whenever we have to do this. If I could get poked and stuck and pushed around so she doesn't have to, I would do it in a heartbeat. This is part of what she has to go through, though, to get the best care possible. There aren't many kids her age still alive that were born with HLHS. She has come so far and done so well. The doctors are extremely aggressive when it comes to treating small injuries and illnesses. She doesn't quite heal the same way as other kids do, and it makes all her doctors nervous whenever she so much as sneezes.
It is times like this that I am thankful that I have done all I can to help her live a normal life in spite of whatever is going on inside of her. It means that she has all the fun and joy she possibly can so maybe these little episodes of pain and sickness won't be what she remembers most about her childhood.
It isn't all that bad. It was diagnosed as a right radial buckle fracture which means the bones smooshed a little when she fell on them. The bones are not displaced from each other so there is no need to set it and it should probably heal pretty well on its own. We will be heading to the ortho on Thursday morning (way too early) to get more x-rays and see if the fracture will require a cast, a brace, or nothing at all. She doesn't hurt very much and she is doing fine getting around with the temporary expansion cast.
The incident happened on the 23rd, while family was visiting and LH was enjoying the nice weather. She decided to ride her bike and was trying to learn how to ride while standing up. Thankfully, she had on her helmet and she actually was holding on to the handlebars when she hit something and proceeded to fly superman-style over the handlebars.
At first it looked like she just had a case of road rash on her left elbow and a her right palm was a little bit scratched up. I was more worried about the elbow than than the wrist. After I cleaned her up and gave her some bandages, she was right back out playing (although the bike was quickly moved to the back yard where it has stayed). She had no visible bruising or swelling in her right wrist and there was no indication that anything was wrong at all, except for her inability to lift more than pound or so.
I feel pretty awful right now, because I really didn't think it was anything to really worry about. I thought she might be over-reacting. I thought she might have a slight sprain. I have fallen so many times and strained my wrist in the process. I know that there is very little to do about it other than ice it, wrap it, and take some Tylenol. I gave her a wrist brace to wear for a day or two, and I figured that wold take care of it. After two days, she told me it still hurt, so I grudgingly took her in for x-rays on Sunday afternoon.
I also have to mention that there was another injury that she was dealing with that had me much more concerned. She developed a small staph infection around her left thumbnail. I also know very well how to take care of things like this (having been a terrible nail-biter growing up) so I did what I could here at A few days before, I made an appointment for her to see the pediatrician about it, but I ended up canceling and trying to take care of it here. After 10 days, though, it didn't seem better, and it actually started to seem worse. When I took her into Children's hospital for the wrist, I was planning to ask the staff to look at the thumb as well.
It turned out that both of the injuries were, indeed, something to worry about. Now I really felt horrible for waiting so long to take her in. The nurses brought in an expansion cast first. After a few minutes she was splinted and had the arm propped in a sling. No problem there. But, when the nurses saw the thumb, they started to call in other doctors for observation and I knew there was going to be a little more to deal with. They wanted to attack the infection aggressively because if it were to spread, it could very quickly become a blood borne infection that could travel to her heart and infect the stints that she had placed just last year. They decided to give her an hour's worth of IV antibiotics and to lance and clean out the wound so it could heal more easily.
The major issue here is that LH is phobic of needles. I don't mean "oh, please don't stick me!" kind of scared. I mean running around, screaming, turning white, kicking, punching, pushing and needing multiple nurses hold her down for one booster shot kind of scared.
When the nurse came in and explained what was going to happen, she turned white. Then they brought in their best tech to handle things and she started to panic as soon as she saw the IV kit. The technician was named Zachary and he was just awesome, though. He was patient, kind, and straightforward and really helped to keep the process moving without letting LH stall too long. It was about 30 minutes of prep for her and 2 seconds of "pricking" to get it over with. She was pretty brave about it, all things considered and only yelled some, and cried a little, and didn't fight at all.
There was a teensy problem, though. Zachary promised her only one stick. It was only 15 minutes later they came in to tell us what they were going to do for her thumb. This entailed FOUR shots of numbing stuff and then the poking of the thumb where it hurt the most. I can tell you that LH was completely pissed about that. She had been getting through everything so far with the idea that she wouldn't have to deal with anymore needles and now they were coming right back in with more stuff to stick her with.
She told me the biggest reason she hates all of this is that the doctors and nurses always tell her that the shots won't hurt, but they always do. In her mind there is no such thing as an acceptable level of pain. You either hurt or you don't. To say that a shot doesn't hurt is a complete lie to her and she feels very betrayed by that. I can't really say I blame her. She is so used to having to just sit and deal with pain, and pokes, and medicines that taste like crap that by now she just doesn't want any more.
As a mother, it is heartbreaking to see your child upset, or sick, or in pain. It is a thousand times worse, I think, to see them in a panic. There is almost nothing you can do about it, except be there for them until they can get their senses back and calm down. I have learned the best way to keep calm and try not to add to her panic, and I know where to stand so I'm not in the way of the technicians but LH can still see me. I have still shed tears almost as often as she has during shots, IV's, and blood drawing. She becomes a completely different child all of the sudden and it is heartbreaking. She swings back and forth between "Wait, just give me another minute to calm down!" and "I'm so sorry I am acting like such a baby!"
By the time the nurses came in to handle the thumb, I guess they just didn't want to drag it out any more so there was very little waiting and talking. They just kind of pushed through and did it. I think she did her best but she was so panicked and angry that there was not a whole lot of coping left in her. There was a LOT of screaming. I have told her that if she has to yell in order to keep still, she can yell all she wants. She takes that as far as she absolutely can, I think. It still took one nurse to hold her hand and another to actually give her the shots and lance the thumb, but we didn't need anyone to actually hold the rest of her down, and that is an improvement over the past few "episodes." She thrashed and kicked a bit, but when she realized that the nurses were going to stick her no matter what, sh relaxed and just started screaming as loud as she could. Better that than a choke hold and restraining straps. You think I'm kidding about that, don't you?
I really don't think the Novocaine, or whatever they use, really works all that well on her. They used a topical solution on her IV site, and she still felt everything. They used a topical cream on her thumb for 30 minutes before they came in with the shots and she still felt everything they did there, too. Her father has the same problem. He has to have roughly twice the amount of Novocaine as anyone else does when he goes to the dentist. Perhaps it runs in the family.
I think the worst part of all of this is that needles, shots, and IV's are a way of life for her. The cardiologist has never had to use them, thank goodness, but the pediatrician has to every year for a flu shot, at the minimum. She also has to go in every few years for a heart cath to check the internal pressures of her heart and the valves so she gets to get poked, knocked out, and wakes up with bandages around her legs whenever that happens.
I have wished so many times that I could take her place whenever we have to do this. If I could get poked and stuck and pushed around so she doesn't have to, I would do it in a heartbeat. This is part of what she has to go through, though, to get the best care possible. There aren't many kids her age still alive that were born with HLHS. She has come so far and done so well. The doctors are extremely aggressive when it comes to treating small injuries and illnesses. She doesn't quite heal the same way as other kids do, and it makes all her doctors nervous whenever she so much as sneezes.
It is times like this that I am thankful that I have done all I can to help her live a normal life in spite of whatever is going on inside of her. It means that she has all the fun and joy she possibly can so maybe these little episodes of pain and sickness won't be what she remembers most about her childhood.
Saturday, December 26, 2009
364 days and counting
In order to spend more quality time with the rugrats and the hubby, I shut down my computer Christmas Eve at about 9:30pm and didn't turn it back on until this morning. I would have happily stayed plugged in all Christmas Day, but I decided this year that I would do my best to focus on the girls and maybe even get a little rest.
Rest, I did! We snacked on leftovers and candy from the stockings all day and Scott made dinner for us all, so I didn't have to cook. We all say around in our PJ's most of the day. The TV wasn't on, and even the computers stayed off most of the day. Everyone was so content trying out their new presents that boredom was not a real issue at all. I never did get around to making those pies for DH, and now that he is out camping for the next five days, I won't have to make them until he comes back.
I will have so many great memories from this year. The girls were up at 6:30 am and were nearly bouncing on our heads to get us up. Our tradition is that no one opens up presents until everyone is up to enjoy the gluttony together. Once the pot of coffee was brewing, my dad was up, so we didn't have to reign in the girls for very long. EG got her first turn to be the "Elf" this year - the person designated to read the labels and hand out the gifts. She was very excited to be allowed to read by herself with out any help.
Our tree is a small one - only about 3 1/2 foot - so we place it on a square side table and we put presents under and around the table as well as under the tree. The whole area was so covered with gifts that it took a good fifteen minuted for EG to pass everything out. Another tradition in my home is that we take turns opening gifts one at a time. This allows everyone to see the reaction the recipient has to the gift and it also helps to help draw out the fun a little longer. Instead of 10 minutes of freakish gluttony, we have a leisurely time over about an hour unwrapping things and oooing and ahhing over every little thing. It is my favorite part of Christmas morning, I think. I very often completely forget about the pile of gifts on my lap while I am enjoying the smiles and OMG's from the rest of the family.
Mommy and Daddy managed to do pretty well in the gift giving department this year. Santa did pretty well, too. He must have gotten their letters very early on because he brought them EXACTLY what they asked for. Gramma and Pops (DH's parents) scored the biggest points this year. They must have been in league with the Big Man himself because whatever Santa didn't bring from the wish lists, they managed to get instead and the girls were just ecstatic. EG's prized possessions this year were a magnetic dress-up princess, Polly Pocket doll with more clothes, and a purple striped Sock monkey. TD got a piggy bank with a set of markers to decorate it herself, a miniature set of My Little Ponies with dress-up clothes, and a pink striped sock money. LH made out the best, I think with a really awesome MP3 player and a whole slew of art supplies, sketch books, and journals. DH got an adapter to hook up a regular hard drive as an external/portable drive. I got a new set of headphones that I can use at work (no more sharing headsets with strange poeple!) Even Poppa got a stainless steel drinking bottle and a back scratch-er that can break down for transport. I think the best thing all around was the stereo/CD player that we gave to TD and EG to share. LH already had one and she didn't need it anymore now that she had the MP3 player that also plays FM Radio. She gave her boom box to the EG so now EG and TD both have their own stereos. Even better - the grandparents gave each of the girls their own set of ear buds (color coordinated for each girls) so I don't have to listen to a war of Hillary Duff vs. Kelly Clarkson battling it out on high volume all day long,
The stocking stuffers, as usual, were as big a hit (if not bigger) than the wrapped gifts. The tiny, zippered duffel bags from Daddy and the assorted holiday activity books from me have been keeping all three girls quiet and occupied all day. Every now and again one of them will disappear into the bathroom and come out with her hair pulled back by a different colored sparkly headband, courtesy of the the grandparents. Because we kept candy to a minimum (as usual) we haven't had too many sugar-related meltdowns, either. In fact, the only one dealing with a bit of a grouchy mood here and there is EG, which is pretty natural considering she's only six and hasn't gotten nearly enough sleep in the past few days.
So, it's noon the day after Christmas and thing life feels like it's running smoothly again. Maybe this is a good omen for the New Year.
The only hitch now is having to deal with LH and her wonderful habit of injuring herself during holiday breaks. Two days ago she fell off her bike and scraped up her elbow, hand, and knee. Everything seems fine today except for the wrist that she landed on. Also, she managed to get a staph infection under her thumbnail and we have been fighting it for over a week now. 7 days is the limit of how long I will wait before calling in the professionals. So today, instead of going shopping with my gift cards, I will most likely spend the evening in the ER waiting room. It's nothing I haven't been through dozens of times before. At least this year LH has something to keep her quiet and busy (her MP3 player) and I have a a few knitting projects I am working on, so things shouldn't be as painful as they have been in the past.
Wish me luck and that LH's injuries are as minor as I think they are.
Rest, I did! We snacked on leftovers and candy from the stockings all day and Scott made dinner for us all, so I didn't have to cook. We all say around in our PJ's most of the day. The TV wasn't on, and even the computers stayed off most of the day. Everyone was so content trying out their new presents that boredom was not a real issue at all. I never did get around to making those pies for DH, and now that he is out camping for the next five days, I won't have to make them until he comes back.
I will have so many great memories from this year. The girls were up at 6:30 am and were nearly bouncing on our heads to get us up. Our tradition is that no one opens up presents until everyone is up to enjoy the gluttony together. Once the pot of coffee was brewing, my dad was up, so we didn't have to reign in the girls for very long. EG got her first turn to be the "Elf" this year - the person designated to read the labels and hand out the gifts. She was very excited to be allowed to read by herself with out any help.
Our tree is a small one - only about 3 1/2 foot - so we place it on a square side table and we put presents under and around the table as well as under the tree. The whole area was so covered with gifts that it took a good fifteen minuted for EG to pass everything out. Another tradition in my home is that we take turns opening gifts one at a time. This allows everyone to see the reaction the recipient has to the gift and it also helps to help draw out the fun a little longer. Instead of 10 minutes of freakish gluttony, we have a leisurely time over about an hour unwrapping things and oooing and ahhing over every little thing. It is my favorite part of Christmas morning, I think. I very often completely forget about the pile of gifts on my lap while I am enjoying the smiles and OMG's from the rest of the family.
Mommy and Daddy managed to do pretty well in the gift giving department this year. Santa did pretty well, too. He must have gotten their letters very early on because he brought them EXACTLY what they asked for. Gramma and Pops (DH's parents) scored the biggest points this year. They must have been in league with the Big Man himself because whatever Santa didn't bring from the wish lists, they managed to get instead and the girls were just ecstatic. EG's prized possessions this year were a magnetic dress-up princess, Polly Pocket doll with more clothes, and a purple striped Sock monkey. TD got a piggy bank with a set of markers to decorate it herself, a miniature set of My Little Ponies with dress-up clothes, and a pink striped sock money. LH made out the best, I think with a really awesome MP3 player and a whole slew of art supplies, sketch books, and journals. DH got an adapter to hook up a regular hard drive as an external/portable drive. I got a new set of headphones that I can use at work (no more sharing headsets with strange poeple!) Even Poppa got a stainless steel drinking bottle and a back scratch-er that can break down for transport. I think the best thing all around was the stereo/CD player that we gave to TD and EG to share. LH already had one and she didn't need it anymore now that she had the MP3 player that also plays FM Radio. She gave her boom box to the EG so now EG and TD both have their own stereos. Even better - the grandparents gave each of the girls their own set of ear buds (color coordinated for each girls) so I don't have to listen to a war of Hillary Duff vs. Kelly Clarkson battling it out on high volume all day long,
The stocking stuffers, as usual, were as big a hit (if not bigger) than the wrapped gifts. The tiny, zippered duffel bags from Daddy and the assorted holiday activity books from me have been keeping all three girls quiet and occupied all day. Every now and again one of them will disappear into the bathroom and come out with her hair pulled back by a different colored sparkly headband, courtesy of the the grandparents. Because we kept candy to a minimum (as usual) we haven't had too many sugar-related meltdowns, either. In fact, the only one dealing with a bit of a grouchy mood here and there is EG, which is pretty natural considering she's only six and hasn't gotten nearly enough sleep in the past few days.
So, it's noon the day after Christmas and thing life feels like it's running smoothly again. Maybe this is a good omen for the New Year.
The only hitch now is having to deal with LH and her wonderful habit of injuring herself during holiday breaks. Two days ago she fell off her bike and scraped up her elbow, hand, and knee. Everything seems fine today except for the wrist that she landed on. Also, she managed to get a staph infection under her thumbnail and we have been fighting it for over a week now. 7 days is the limit of how long I will wait before calling in the professionals. So today, instead of going shopping with my gift cards, I will most likely spend the evening in the ER waiting room. It's nothing I haven't been through dozens of times before. At least this year LH has something to keep her quiet and busy (her MP3 player) and I have a a few knitting projects I am working on, so things shouldn't be as painful as they have been in the past.
Wish me luck and that LH's injuries are as minor as I think they are.
Christmas Eve and all is....well?
The snow is falling thick outside and the house is filled with the delicious smells coming from the kitchen. (except for the burned cookie smell that sort of set off the smoke alarm awhile ago.) We are almost ready for dinner and I suddenly find myself with a few minutes of downtime while I wait on the last few dishes to cook.
My mood has improved drastically since yesterday. Well, "drastically" might be a little extreme. I am no longer hiding under the covers and crying. I managed to get up this morning, take a shower, get dressed to the shoes, and even ran a few errands. The housework is, for the most part, done. We are at least 15 minutes away from company ready, which is an incredible improvement since yesterday.
After I wrote yesterday's post I admit I had a bit of a breakdown. The stress of everything left to do and everything I am not able to do just got to me. (I'm actually surprised that I held out as long as I did.) Sobbed and cried and probably made a pretty good spectacle of myself. Thankfully, it was after the kids were in bed and it was only DH there, staring at me as if I was a two headed PMS monster or something. Really I can't blame him. I wouldn't know what to do with me either.
In any case, I woke up in a much better mood. It was really hard not to. The joy and laughter of the girls is just contagious. They were up early and bouncing off the walls singing Christmas carols off key, at the top of their lungs, with half of the wrong words. LH even made three different kinds of cookies before lunch. It still amazed me that she is able to do so well in the kitchen by herself with only a recipe to go by. One of the kinds of cookies didn't really come out right and we had to pitch the dough before we even cooked it, but she still did really good. In the last few days, she has successfully made 3 out of 4 batches and that's a pretty good run for any budding chef.
My dad has been a big help, too. He took me out of the house for a few minutes to take care of some last minute errands. I apparently needed a break because I felt much better by the time I got back. He has also been cooking for me today, and helping reign in the girls every now and then. He feels the stress a lot this time of year, I can tell. He keeps it together very well, though. This week, have no idea what I would have done without him.
In spite of my best intentions, I haven't finished quite enough of what I wanted to do today. I was planning on making pies but by 3:15, it was clear that it just wasn't going to happen.( The FM is acting up today again, and the fatigue is worse than the pain.) I feel most guilty because I promised DH a pecan and a pumpkin pie and I didn't deliver either. I managed to get almost everything else made that I wanted, but the pies didn't make it. I still have what I need and I will probably get the baking bug tomorrow, so we will most likely have a nice Christmas dinner with more than enough pie to go around.
DH really saved me today, as well. Christmas is one of his favorite times of the year (next to Thanksgiving.) He is such a kid about it (in a good way) that it makes everything seem almost as exciting as it used to be for me. He loves giving and getting presents and unwrapping things and playing with new toys and having the time and the excuse to snuggle our girls. Of course, he doesn't really need an excuse, but he will take them when he can.
He has been able to work from his "home office" all week (the computer desk in our bedroom) which has been really great. I love being able to sneak in and see him all day. It makes my day. He came out of the room on his lunch break and wrestled with the girls and chased them all over the house to help them get out their wiggles. Since the snow and weather is not all the great to be out in, they have a case of cabin fever.
All our guests had to cancel this evening. We were planning on having 10 or more people over, so now I have a lot of extra food. There could be much worse situations to be in. Suddenly, a lot of stress just disappeared that I didn't know was there. I can leave off the last of the deep cleaning for another day. I know we will have more than enough leftovers to get us through tomorrow so I won't have to cook from scratch again. Also, I just got a glimpse of the pile of things that still need to be wrapped and now I can start on them before 1:00 am.
I am really disappointed that our friends and family weren't able to make it over tonight. I was looking forward to a little bit of fun and some grown-up conversation. My girls are even more upset than I am. EG is crushed that her favorite Evil Friend couldn't make it tonight. LH and TD wanted to see their cousins, as well. The weather is just getting too bad and the roads are awful. the driveway is already iced over so I would not want to even see what the overpasses look like. Most of out friends will be coming from just north of here and getting home after dark would be downright scary. So, as sad as I am to have them all cancel, I am even more glad that they are all safe and sound in their homes and not driving all over the place tonight.
Now I am, off to eat dinner and then snuggle the girls before bed time. We might brave the roads to take them on the annual Christmas Light drive around the neighborhood for a few blocks. This usually has the double effect of giving them a break from the house to ease cabin fever and giving them a few minutes to relax and get sleepy before bed.
I will stay behind and wrap some more presents and drink hot cider. I am looking forward to a few minutes of peace and quiet to myself. Maybe I will feel a little better after feeling as if i have accomplished something valuable on my own.
What do you like to do on Christmas Eve?
My mood has improved drastically since yesterday. Well, "drastically" might be a little extreme. I am no longer hiding under the covers and crying. I managed to get up this morning, take a shower, get dressed to the shoes, and even ran a few errands. The housework is, for the most part, done. We are at least 15 minutes away from company ready, which is an incredible improvement since yesterday.
After I wrote yesterday's post I admit I had a bit of a breakdown. The stress of everything left to do and everything I am not able to do just got to me. (I'm actually surprised that I held out as long as I did.) Sobbed and cried and probably made a pretty good spectacle of myself. Thankfully, it was after the kids were in bed and it was only DH there, staring at me as if I was a two headed PMS monster or something. Really I can't blame him. I wouldn't know what to do with me either.
In any case, I woke up in a much better mood. It was really hard not to. The joy and laughter of the girls is just contagious. They were up early and bouncing off the walls singing Christmas carols off key, at the top of their lungs, with half of the wrong words. LH even made three different kinds of cookies before lunch. It still amazed me that she is able to do so well in the kitchen by herself with only a recipe to go by. One of the kinds of cookies didn't really come out right and we had to pitch the dough before we even cooked it, but she still did really good. In the last few days, she has successfully made 3 out of 4 batches and that's a pretty good run for any budding chef.
My dad has been a big help, too. He took me out of the house for a few minutes to take care of some last minute errands. I apparently needed a break because I felt much better by the time I got back. He has also been cooking for me today, and helping reign in the girls every now and then. He feels the stress a lot this time of year, I can tell. He keeps it together very well, though. This week, have no idea what I would have done without him.
In spite of my best intentions, I haven't finished quite enough of what I wanted to do today. I was planning on making pies but by 3:15, it was clear that it just wasn't going to happen.( The FM is acting up today again, and the fatigue is worse than the pain.) I feel most guilty because I promised DH a pecan and a pumpkin pie and I didn't deliver either. I managed to get almost everything else made that I wanted, but the pies didn't make it. I still have what I need and I will probably get the baking bug tomorrow, so we will most likely have a nice Christmas dinner with more than enough pie to go around.
DH really saved me today, as well. Christmas is one of his favorite times of the year (next to Thanksgiving.) He is such a kid about it (in a good way) that it makes everything seem almost as exciting as it used to be for me. He loves giving and getting presents and unwrapping things and playing with new toys and having the time and the excuse to snuggle our girls. Of course, he doesn't really need an excuse, but he will take them when he can.
He has been able to work from his "home office" all week (the computer desk in our bedroom) which has been really great. I love being able to sneak in and see him all day. It makes my day. He came out of the room on his lunch break and wrestled with the girls and chased them all over the house to help them get out their wiggles. Since the snow and weather is not all the great to be out in, they have a case of cabin fever.
All our guests had to cancel this evening. We were planning on having 10 or more people over, so now I have a lot of extra food. There could be much worse situations to be in. Suddenly, a lot of stress just disappeared that I didn't know was there. I can leave off the last of the deep cleaning for another day. I know we will have more than enough leftovers to get us through tomorrow so I won't have to cook from scratch again. Also, I just got a glimpse of the pile of things that still need to be wrapped and now I can start on them before 1:00 am.
I am really disappointed that our friends and family weren't able to make it over tonight. I was looking forward to a little bit of fun and some grown-up conversation. My girls are even more upset than I am. EG is crushed that her favorite Evil Friend couldn't make it tonight. LH and TD wanted to see their cousins, as well. The weather is just getting too bad and the roads are awful. the driveway is already iced over so I would not want to even see what the overpasses look like. Most of out friends will be coming from just north of here and getting home after dark would be downright scary. So, as sad as I am to have them all cancel, I am even more glad that they are all safe and sound in their homes and not driving all over the place tonight.
Now I am, off to eat dinner and then snuggle the girls before bed time. We might brave the roads to take them on the annual Christmas Light drive around the neighborhood for a few blocks. This usually has the double effect of giving them a break from the house to ease cabin fever and giving them a few minutes to relax and get sleepy before bed.
I will stay behind and wrap some more presents and drink hot cider. I am looking forward to a few minutes of peace and quiet to myself. Maybe I will feel a little better after feeling as if i have accomplished something valuable on my own.
What do you like to do on Christmas Eve?
Thursday, December 24, 2009
Twas the night before the night before Christmas
I am sitting in bed on Dec 23rd quietly freaking out. I have a presents that need to be wrapped, more presents that still need to be bought, a house that needs to be cleaned (badly, I might add), and I am expecting almost a dozen guests tomorrow.
Sure, part of me says "Get of your butt and take care of business, girl!" Unfortunately, that's not the part I am listening to. I prefer, for now, to listen to that little voice that says, "Relax, it will all get done. Just get some rest tonight and get a head start tomorrow."
Yeah, that's probably not going to happen.
See, I know me. "Me" will probably finish this post, and then start running around the house like a madwoman trying to take care of whatever business I can before passing out at roughly 3:00 am. Things are just more complicated this year. I haven't been this unprepared for a Holiday since EG was born. I feel seriously bad about this. Even a little ashamed.
I have managed to pull off some beautiful holidays over the past few years. I have hosted parties two weeks before Christmas Eve. I have had presents bought, wrapped, and hidden a full week before Christmas night. I have presented glorious meals where everything came out of the oven at the same time and the turkey was done all the way through. This year, though, I'm just not hacking it.
I have been trying to make memories this year, instead of "things" in the hope that it might somehow make up for a slimmer-than-usual Christmas. I have spent time with the girls making Christmas stocking crafts and paper chain decorations. We even got around to painting the snowman napkin holder that we received four years ago and never finished. I've let them all stay up late watching Christmas movies all week and said "yes" to one more cookie before bed. They have been remarkably sweet and compliant in return. I have never seen them so ready and willing to help out with chores. I guess a little honey goes a long way with these honeybees.
I can't help but feel terrible inside, though. Like I am denying them a quality holiday because there won't be as many presents under the tree. Everything about this Christmas is starting to feel half-hearted, now. I am almost dreading Christmas morning. Will they like what I did manage to get them? Will they be disappointed that there isn't more? Am I being overly nervous about all this?
Perhaps I am just feeling the crunch that I always do. The feeling that I wish I could do more. Every year turns out just fine. The girls are ecstatic with whatever they get. There are always a ton of homemade presents from the girls to everyone else. We enjoy the day snuggling and hanging around in our PJ's and eating Christmas candy instead of a real dinner.
This year, I am more frightened than ever that it won't be that way. That this year they will actually figure out how much hassle and stress I feel. I have never felt so resentful of this holiday as I do right now. Why does it have to be so commercial and stressful and expensive. As I said, I have been trying to pare down the amount of physical things on holidays and try to engage more of the spiritual side of things. I can't even find the spirit of it right now though. It feels like a terrible waste of time and money and paper. I have been working so hard all year to reduce the amount of stuff we have in our home. A few months ago we held a yard sale and sold off half the garage full of things we didn't need. Making extra grocery money didn't hurt either.
Since before we even moved in here 18 months ago, we have been de-cluttering, streamlining, de-junking, prioritizing, organizing. A very smart lady I like to listen to says that you can't organize clutter. You can only get rid of it. You should only keep things around you that you really love. If it doesn't make you smile, release it so it can bless others or throw it away if it isn't nice enough to bless someone else with (if no one else wants it, it is trash, and do you really deserve to have it around any more than someone else does?) Now that I have spent all this time getting rid of stuff, it feels just wrong to purposely go and gt more stuff that my girls and husband don't really need just so that they can say they unwrapped something on a particular day of the year.
I hope today will be better than tonight and maybe this funk will disappear.
Am I alone in this? Does anyone else ever feel this way? Leave a comment and let me knwo if you think I am crazy or if you are on the crazy train with me.
Sure, part of me says "Get of your butt and take care of business, girl!" Unfortunately, that's not the part I am listening to. I prefer, for now, to listen to that little voice that says, "Relax, it will all get done. Just get some rest tonight and get a head start tomorrow."
Yeah, that's probably not going to happen.
See, I know me. "Me" will probably finish this post, and then start running around the house like a madwoman trying to take care of whatever business I can before passing out at roughly 3:00 am. Things are just more complicated this year. I haven't been this unprepared for a Holiday since EG was born. I feel seriously bad about this. Even a little ashamed.
I have managed to pull off some beautiful holidays over the past few years. I have hosted parties two weeks before Christmas Eve. I have had presents bought, wrapped, and hidden a full week before Christmas night. I have presented glorious meals where everything came out of the oven at the same time and the turkey was done all the way through. This year, though, I'm just not hacking it.
I have been trying to make memories this year, instead of "things" in the hope that it might somehow make up for a slimmer-than-usual Christmas. I have spent time with the girls making Christmas stocking crafts and paper chain decorations. We even got around to painting the snowman napkin holder that we received four years ago and never finished. I've let them all stay up late watching Christmas movies all week and said "yes" to one more cookie before bed. They have been remarkably sweet and compliant in return. I have never seen them so ready and willing to help out with chores. I guess a little honey goes a long way with these honeybees.
I can't help but feel terrible inside, though. Like I am denying them a quality holiday because there won't be as many presents under the tree. Everything about this Christmas is starting to feel half-hearted, now. I am almost dreading Christmas morning. Will they like what I did manage to get them? Will they be disappointed that there isn't more? Am I being overly nervous about all this?
Perhaps I am just feeling the crunch that I always do. The feeling that I wish I could do more. Every year turns out just fine. The girls are ecstatic with whatever they get. There are always a ton of homemade presents from the girls to everyone else. We enjoy the day snuggling and hanging around in our PJ's and eating Christmas candy instead of a real dinner.
This year, I am more frightened than ever that it won't be that way. That this year they will actually figure out how much hassle and stress I feel. I have never felt so resentful of this holiday as I do right now. Why does it have to be so commercial and stressful and expensive. As I said, I have been trying to pare down the amount of physical things on holidays and try to engage more of the spiritual side of things. I can't even find the spirit of it right now though. It feels like a terrible waste of time and money and paper. I have been working so hard all year to reduce the amount of stuff we have in our home. A few months ago we held a yard sale and sold off half the garage full of things we didn't need. Making extra grocery money didn't hurt either.
Since before we even moved in here 18 months ago, we have been de-cluttering, streamlining, de-junking, prioritizing, organizing. A very smart lady I like to listen to says that you can't organize clutter. You can only get rid of it. You should only keep things around you that you really love. If it doesn't make you smile, release it so it can bless others or throw it away if it isn't nice enough to bless someone else with (if no one else wants it, it is trash, and do you really deserve to have it around any more than someone else does?) Now that I have spent all this time getting rid of stuff, it feels just wrong to purposely go and gt more stuff that my girls and husband don't really need just so that they can say they unwrapped something on a particular day of the year.
I hope today will be better than tonight and maybe this funk will disappear.
Am I alone in this? Does anyone else ever feel this way? Leave a comment and let me knwo if you think I am crazy or if you are on the crazy train with me.
Subscribe to:
Posts (Atom)