Yesterday, I was starting to feel a little bit lonely and set-apart from the world in my Little Country Town. Because of the move, and the ever present Lack Of Money, I just sort of feel home bound. I don't work for money outside the house, and leaving the house usually is precipitated by the need to spend money. If I don't need to spend money, I don't need to go out, and so here I stay.
Reading how much fun everyone else seems to have without me makes me feel lonelier, still. Yes, I would love to join you for a pint at the bar. Hanging out and dancing would be divine. No, I haven't seen you in forever, yes I miss you terribly, my heart is aching because I haven't gotten to ever snuggle your beautiful babies, but I can't afford the gas to drive 2 hours in any direction for any reason at all right now. I haven't made new friends out here and all my old connections seem to be severed beyond repair.
In truth, I usually feel some sort of negative emotion like loneliness, anger, frustration, anxiety, fear, or even all out depression about once a month. It is much better than it used to be, and it doesn't last very long any more. I can usually even anticipate it, or at least understand where it comes from when it hits me. That helps me get through it and move on a little quicker.
I've learned to just deal with it because as bad as that 48 hours or so is, it is a drop in the bucket of what I used to deal with 24X7. I have come to grips with the fact that I won't ever be rid of the Gray Monster for good. Somehow, understanding that about myself makes me feel more free. I'm not haunted and harried by the Monster. We have an agreement of sorts. It stays out of my way for the most part. If I let it out of its box every now and again, it goes back in its box when I need it to. It still tries to break free and test out the lock every once and awhile, but I'm prepared for it. I can do this.
How does this relate to my priorities? Well, last night DH and I sat up WAY too late watching a marathon on A&E of Gene Simmons Family Jewels. I love this show because it shows that Rock Stars, Playboy Models, and even their kids can be .... well, normal. These people are rich, and even powerful, but really they are just normal people. Dad works a lot. Mom runs the house and makes everything ok. Big brother is smart and funny and incredibly talented. Little sister is extremely beautiful, but modest and shy focusing her intelligence on school and her future career.
They generally don't have a lot of "drama" like most reality shows push for. Usually they are funny and goofy and sweet and loving to each other. At least until this last year or so. Like most couples they have their issues. Shannon is and has always been drop-dead-gorgeous but like any woman, she feels insecure. Gene is very driven and motivated when it comes to money, and when it comes to his "image" in public he would rather appear to be the Rock Star that has women falling all over him than a dad and husband who goes home to his wife every night. To complicate things, Gene Simmons and Shannon Tweed aren't actually married. They've been together for 27 years and have raised their kids together and seem to have been blissfully happy. Recently, however, Shannon started wanting Gene to be more husband and less Rock Star. As a result, Gene started to be more philandering Rock Star and less devoted husband. Things blew up, Shannon moved to a hotel, and Gene is left in the house alone thinking about the stupid things he did because of his arrogance.
Eventually she does come home and they seem to begin to reconcile. They go on a trip as a family to Gene's birthplace to visit family that he's never seen before. He starts rethinking his "bad boy" ways and decides that maybe being a husband is what will make him happy since that is what will make Shannon happy. Sounds a little self-centered anyway, but hey, whatever works, right?
The whole trip came about because Gene was recognized by his birth town and received an award from the local officials of Haifa, Israel because he was one of their own and went on to do so much (and he HAS done a lot of charity and support work on his own. Check out the KISS website) After that, he decides to stay awhile and see more of the country that he lived in before he came to the United States. He meets his half-brother and sisters that he never knew about and reconnects with the life that he had "left behind: when he was 7. There was a point in the show where they were walking away from a Holocaust museum in Israel, and Gene was able to find his mother's name in the log of survivors from the Auschwitz death camp. To think that as a little girl, she survived that atrocity, grew up to have Gene Simmons, moved to America and raise him to be one of the most well known Rock Stars of our country. Shannon said, looking at the museum made her realize how petty their own problems really were.
That says it all right there. Little children watch their entire families get gassed but they survive and move on and raise children and work (at a time when women DID NOT.) That sort of thing still happens today, too. (I won't post a link, but if you look, you will see it.) Here at home we have military who put themselves in the line of fire, every hour of every day so that I can have the luxury of sitting in my own home to complain about my problems. Many of those same brave men and women come home with permanent physical and mental injuries. Some of them even go back to keep on fighting. I can even look in my own living room and see an amazing survivor. Someone who was given a very grim prognosis and has completely blown everyone else in the world away. It was predicted that my own Little Heart was not to survive for more than a few years. Even then it would be at a far lower capacity than the "average" kids. I had nothing to do with her awe inspiring Fighter's Spirit. That is all from her and God.
Ok. I get it. I need to put on my Big Girl Panties and deal with it. Maybe I won't be able to achieve what "everyone else" in the world can. But, if a little girl can lose her entire family and still go on, if a Marine can lose both his legs and still continue to be a single parent and work to support his family, if men and women in our own land suffer abuse at the hands of their own families but decide to rise above it, if a child born with half their heart can grow up to be in the marching band, I can surely deal with this, whatever it is.
Pity party over.
Deb
Wednesday, July 6, 2011
Friday, July 1, 2011
And that's why I had to wash the dog in the shower
Seriously, folks. It's been THAT kind of month. By now, you all know that crap just happens. It is unfathomable, even to me living through it daily, how anyone ever manages to get ahead. Maybe it is luck (good and bad.) Perhaps I just always do things in the wrong order (and so my life doesn't follow predictable patterns either.) I'm sure some would say I've been cursed, but it can't be THAT horrible because I get plenty of joy and laughter to balance out the pain and tears. All I know, is that my life is...INTERESTING. That is the best word I can think of. Here's a run down of the last month:
June 7 - Followed up with the local Dr. He doesn't think I have a kidney infection. In fact, my kidneys look great. (Yay!) He thinks my back pain is due to a bad back. (Boo!) It's probably a slipped disk. Or two. Maybe even three. In different locations. (crap.) I'm to get an MRI for my back and see a GI dr who will probably set me up for a scope and make sure the old ulcer isn't big, bad, and worse. (Please shoot me.I hate the scope.)
June 9 - A house around the corner is for sale and it is everything I have ever wanted in a house and more. I even talk to the realtor and take a look inside. When our lease is up in another few months, THIS is where I want to move. I make a mental note to check my credit score to see if it is high enough yet.
June 14 - Happy 10th Birthday Melody! (When did I get old enough to have a teenager AND a pre-teen?) Waitaminit...didn't I have an appointment yesterday? Oh, crap. I did. Well, I guess I can reschedule.
June 15 - Why are the cell phones off? Oh...because the auto draft info isn't valid since we cancelled the card because it was hacked. Ok. I can see that. But why is the water off? The service guy told the kids they were replacing the meter and it would be off temporarily. After being without water for three hours, I find out that it was cut off for lack of payment. It SHOULD have been cut off three weeks ago, and as soon as the clerk at City Hall found out that the meter was broken and couldn't be shut all the way off, she ordered a new meter to make SURE it gets shut off. Yeah. I thought it was a little crappy, too. Digging through my mail, I find the latest "bill" which is only a 5"X3" note card that was stuck inside a circular so I missed it and totally forgot. Now it is two months worth of bill plus a disconnect fee. Ok, so we will just wait a week until pay day to turn the phones back on, so I can pay the water today. Ok, tomorrow (because the office is now closed for the day.)
June 16 - At 4:00 in the afternoon, I finally get the water back. I swear the woman at City Hall put our reconnect order at the bottom of the To Do list because she just doesn't like me.
June 17 - Notice to Vacate?!?!? Yes, I am late on rent, but I have been in contact with you. I have paid every last stinkin' late fee you charged me in the past and I will pay all of these too. Our lease isn't up for another two months. I'm sure they are just being nasty. It doesn't make financial sense to evict someone who pays (even though we are some times late) for being less than 10 days overdue. DH agrees to talk to them on Monday morning.He and I agree that we can pay the cell phone when this whole ordeal is over.
June 20 9:24am - DH comes back from the landlord's. He is so mad he is kicking things. Yes they DO mean to make us move. We have until Friday. Yes, THIS Friday. Like, in four more days. Oh, but if we pay them everything (including exorbitant late fees) we can stay another week, until the end of the month. Holy crap! Can they DO this?
June 20 10:00am - I'm freaking out, I'm desperate, and I could very likely be homeless in four days. As far as I can tell, they are claiming that the lease is broken because we were late. I'm not sure they are legally able to do this, but I don't want to deal with these f-ers any more. I send a note to the realtor I spoke to last week to see if she has any leads. I have been looking at houses in town and I know there isn't anything for rent, but maybe she knows something I don't. If a miracle doesn't pass, we will have to pack up and move back to Irving where DH's parents live because they are about to retire and we could take over the payments on their house so we don't have to sell. Please God, do not make me move back to the city when I just fell in love with this little country town.
June 20 - 11:00am - The realtor does, in fact, know of a house that is not only available, but it is vacant and ready to move into. She warns that it is small, but the owners would be happy to let us pay month to month until we find something bigger. I agree to look at it. Any choice other than a dumpster would look good to me right now. The house is owned by the realtor's son and has been in the family for years. They moved out about six months ago and have tried to sell it but they haven't had any offers. At this point, they will be happy if someone helps to cover the payments until it does finally sell. It is about 6 blocks from where we currently live so the kids wouldn't have to change schools. If we agree to fix the fence (they already bought the parts,) do the cleaning to get it ready to move in, and let them keep it on the market to sell while we live there they will waive the deposit. Yes we can bring the dog and no we don't need to worry about a pet deposit either. Of course, I am scared now wondering what tiny trashed out, hole am I getting us into.
June 20 11:30am - As we turn down the street, I'm really nervous. Most of these houses are tiny and so old they are falling down. Then, we pull up to the house and at first I think it will be way too small. Then we walk in. Not only is it roughly the same square footage as the house we are currently in, it has been completely rebuilt in the last three years.Everything is new. All the appliances come with it - even the washer and dryer (how did they know that my own washer broke a month ago and I've been doing laundry at WP's since then?) And also, there is a dishwasher. (I almost cried for joy right there!) Everything is beautiful and modern. The paint is tastefully neutral but still not white or beige. They have blinds and curtains in all the windows. This place looks like the show houses in new home neighborhoods! Pergo floors in the living areas, carpet in the bedrooms, a HUGE backyard with a deck and a privacy fence, and ceiling fans in every room (with remotes!!!) "Does your husband like to grill? We were planning on leaving the gas grill. I know there is only one bathroom, but it has a double sized shower AND a garden tub. We had three big dogs, so your one dog should love it here."
I wanted to pinch myself. This is more than I could ever have dreamed of. The "mess" that they wanted cleaned up? a few dust piles that were swept but not put into the trash bags. The reason they thought it was too small was because we had three bedrooms before but this one only had two and two living areas. The thing is, we were only currently using two of the bedrooms AS bedrooms. The third was an office anyway. The rooms were all bigger here anyway. The very best part of all of it? Besides waiving the deposit, they said we could move in as soon as we wanted. "Don't worry about rent for June. We already paid it anyway. Just give us July's rent on the first and we'll be good." Plus, the dishwasher runs like a dream.
In just about 2 hours I went from Panic, to Hopeful, to Thankful, and now I was in Planning Mode. The nasty landlord could take my deposit as the last month's rent. I'm not paying him a penny more than I have to. And I have four days to move. DH looked at the house on his lunch break and he was more impressed than I was. I managed to land us a great house, in the same town at the same rent, ready to move into, for no money out of pocket, and I managed it in TWO HOURS. Yeah, I was pretty proud of myself, too. And Thanking God for His miracle (and the dishwasher.)
June 21 - I rent a storage unit a mile or so outside of town. The only one IN town was owned by the Nasty Landlord. We get a great deal on a huge unit and I go home to start packing the first load to go into it.We secure a truck, a trailer, and a buddy for Saturday. That meant not paying for a moving truck. DH and I both agree that we can't be out any sooner than Sunday. We also agree that we will not wait until the last minute to do anything. We start packing, Anything non-essential goes to the storage unit (this is easy, because all our non-essentials were still boxed up from the move 10 months ago.) The stuff that we need for the house gets packed up in bins, baskets, and the few empty boxes we have. We take them to the new house, empty them, put the stuff away, and take the bins back to the old house to use again. Wash. Rinse. Repeat. We did this several times a day through Friday night.
DH is working from home, so he spends his lunch hour packing and making one trip to the storage unit. Then, as soon as he logs out at work, he packs, loads, and delivers at least two van loads every night before going to bed. I still have pain, fatigue, and three kids home for the Summer to deal with. I try to do as much as I can, and I enlist the kids to help out as much as they can, but I still have to rest and nap at least twice a day.
June 25 - Technically, we were supposed to be "gone" by yesterday, but the Nasty Landlord hasn't showed up so we put him out of our minds and focus on moving out. Our friend shows up and helps us move everything we can fit in a van. By 4:00 our other friend shows up with the trailer and we can move the heavy stuff and anything too big to fit in a van. The trailer is only 4'X8' so this means moving one piece of furniture at a time. Thankfully, we have only a few blocks to go between houses. By the time he leaves at 9:00, all the beds are moved to the new house so at 11:00 we all crash hard. This is the first night in the new house.
June 26 - Mother and Father in law show up to help finish up the move. I have no idea what I would do without these amazing and wonderful people. By 11:30 that night, we are completely moved out of the old house and it is cleaned. In fact, it is in better shape than when we moved in.
Today, a week later, we are still unpacking and I'm not quite sure where everything will go. A lot of our craft stuff and most of our books and movies are in storage. The second living area is really big so Little Heart gets to have it as her bedroom as long as we can have our essential craft stuff in there, too. We are going to rig a pretty curtain across the doorway so she can have a little privacy, but it isn't totally necessary. The younger two get a bedroom to share and it is big enough that we could break down their bunk beds and let them sleep on separate sides of the room for the first time. In spite of my trepidation, we hooked up a TV in there so that they can watch movies and stuff while DH is working. With the door closed, you can't even tell that there is a TV in there. The front room has a desk for my computer and my bead work. The owners left this awesome big desk in there and it has room for everything I need it for. DH set up a small desk for his work in our bedroom so he has the extra noise reduction of the bedroom door while he is on the phone.Even our pet seems happier! Earlier this week, I had to give the BBD (Big Black Dog) a bath so I could give him the monthly flea treatment. I t was really hot outside and I really didn't feel like squatting and leaning over him so I brushed him really well and walked him right into the shower. I used the detachable part of the shower head, sat right on the shower floor next to him, and was able to wash him with the door closed so he couldn't jump out. It was the easiest bath he's ever gotten (he might have a different story though.)
Is it perfect? No. Is it amazingly better than I could have ever hoped for? Absolutely. Everyone agrees that this is the prettiest and nicest house we have ever lived in. No one feels cramped. We all have our own spaces now. The kitchen and dining area are set up to make the most of the space they have. We even put a rolling "island" in the middle and we can still move around with no trouble. The kids haven't complained even once about the dishes because, of course, we have a dishwasher.
I even think this place is better for my health. Since moving in, I haven't had as much pain, I haven't had to sleep as much, and I have gone to bed every night with a shiny sink and a swept floor. In spite of the curve ball we have all been thrown, things actually seem more peaceful, calm, and altogether happier than I remember feeling in a long time. DH and I have been throwing around the idea of not moving out when we get our credit repaired. We might just stay here and use the money we would have spent on a bigger house to build on to this one. This house was built in a way to make adding on a room very easy. The front and back yards are both so big we could add on rooms, work sheds, and maybe even a garage and there would still be plenty of room left to breathe. Besides that, the whole house is new and in great condition. There isn't another house in town that we can say that about, except for the newly added on subdivision across the highway. Those houses are much bigger - too big - and MUCH more pricey (TOO pricey.) We haven't made the final choice yet, but not having to move again sure sounds good to me.
Today was our first real "day off" since we found out about the move. DH and I took the kids out all day. We went window shopping at IKEA and we finally got to the eye doctor so DH could get new glasses (he has only been putting it off for 8 years or so.) We ate dinner at a real restaurant (for a change) and we laughed so loud at dinner that the waitress thought we were crazy. I feel more relieved and stress free than I feel I have a right to.
So, tonight I am going to bed and sleeping well.
June 7 - Followed up with the local Dr. He doesn't think I have a kidney infection. In fact, my kidneys look great. (Yay!) He thinks my back pain is due to a bad back. (Boo!) It's probably a slipped disk. Or two. Maybe even three. In different locations. (crap.) I'm to get an MRI for my back and see a GI dr who will probably set me up for a scope and make sure the old ulcer isn't big, bad, and worse. (Please shoot me.I hate the scope.)
June 9 - A house around the corner is for sale and it is everything I have ever wanted in a house and more. I even talk to the realtor and take a look inside. When our lease is up in another few months, THIS is where I want to move. I make a mental note to check my credit score to see if it is high enough yet.
June 14 - Happy 10th Birthday Melody! (When did I get old enough to have a teenager AND a pre-teen?) Waitaminit...didn't I have an appointment yesterday? Oh, crap. I did. Well, I guess I can reschedule.
June 15 - Why are the cell phones off? Oh...because the auto draft info isn't valid since we cancelled the card because it was hacked. Ok. I can see that. But why is the water off? The service guy told the kids they were replacing the meter and it would be off temporarily. After being without water for three hours, I find out that it was cut off for lack of payment. It SHOULD have been cut off three weeks ago, and as soon as the clerk at City Hall found out that the meter was broken and couldn't be shut all the way off, she ordered a new meter to make SURE it gets shut off. Yeah. I thought it was a little crappy, too. Digging through my mail, I find the latest "bill" which is only a 5"X3" note card that was stuck inside a circular so I missed it and totally forgot. Now it is two months worth of bill plus a disconnect fee. Ok, so we will just wait a week until pay day to turn the phones back on, so I can pay the water today. Ok, tomorrow (because the office is now closed for the day.)
June 16 - At 4:00 in the afternoon, I finally get the water back. I swear the woman at City Hall put our reconnect order at the bottom of the To Do list because she just doesn't like me.
June 17 - Notice to Vacate?!?!? Yes, I am late on rent, but I have been in contact with you. I have paid every last stinkin' late fee you charged me in the past and I will pay all of these too. Our lease isn't up for another two months. I'm sure they are just being nasty. It doesn't make financial sense to evict someone who pays (even though we are some times late) for being less than 10 days overdue. DH agrees to talk to them on Monday morning.He and I agree that we can pay the cell phone when this whole ordeal is over.
June 20 9:24am - DH comes back from the landlord's. He is so mad he is kicking things. Yes they DO mean to make us move. We have until Friday. Yes, THIS Friday. Like, in four more days. Oh, but if we pay them everything (including exorbitant late fees) we can stay another week, until the end of the month. Holy crap! Can they DO this?
June 20 10:00am - I'm freaking out, I'm desperate, and I could very likely be homeless in four days. As far as I can tell, they are claiming that the lease is broken because we were late. I'm not sure they are legally able to do this, but I don't want to deal with these f-ers any more. I send a note to the realtor I spoke to last week to see if she has any leads. I have been looking at houses in town and I know there isn't anything for rent, but maybe she knows something I don't. If a miracle doesn't pass, we will have to pack up and move back to Irving where DH's parents live because they are about to retire and we could take over the payments on their house so we don't have to sell. Please God, do not make me move back to the city when I just fell in love with this little country town.
June 20 - 11:00am - The realtor does, in fact, know of a house that is not only available, but it is vacant and ready to move into. She warns that it is small, but the owners would be happy to let us pay month to month until we find something bigger. I agree to look at it. Any choice other than a dumpster would look good to me right now. The house is owned by the realtor's son and has been in the family for years. They moved out about six months ago and have tried to sell it but they haven't had any offers. At this point, they will be happy if someone helps to cover the payments until it does finally sell. It is about 6 blocks from where we currently live so the kids wouldn't have to change schools. If we agree to fix the fence (they already bought the parts,) do the cleaning to get it ready to move in, and let them keep it on the market to sell while we live there they will waive the deposit. Yes we can bring the dog and no we don't need to worry about a pet deposit either. Of course, I am scared now wondering what tiny trashed out, hole am I getting us into.
June 20 11:30am - As we turn down the street, I'm really nervous. Most of these houses are tiny and so old they are falling down. Then, we pull up to the house and at first I think it will be way too small. Then we walk in. Not only is it roughly the same square footage as the house we are currently in, it has been completely rebuilt in the last three years.Everything is new. All the appliances come with it - even the washer and dryer (how did they know that my own washer broke a month ago and I've been doing laundry at WP's since then?) And also, there is a dishwasher. (I almost cried for joy right there!) Everything is beautiful and modern. The paint is tastefully neutral but still not white or beige. They have blinds and curtains in all the windows. This place looks like the show houses in new home neighborhoods! Pergo floors in the living areas, carpet in the bedrooms, a HUGE backyard with a deck and a privacy fence, and ceiling fans in every room (with remotes!!!) "Does your husband like to grill? We were planning on leaving the gas grill. I know there is only one bathroom, but it has a double sized shower AND a garden tub. We had three big dogs, so your one dog should love it here."
I wanted to pinch myself. This is more than I could ever have dreamed of. The "mess" that they wanted cleaned up? a few dust piles that were swept but not put into the trash bags. The reason they thought it was too small was because we had three bedrooms before but this one only had two and two living areas. The thing is, we were only currently using two of the bedrooms AS bedrooms. The third was an office anyway. The rooms were all bigger here anyway. The very best part of all of it? Besides waiving the deposit, they said we could move in as soon as we wanted. "Don't worry about rent for June. We already paid it anyway. Just give us July's rent on the first and we'll be good." Plus, the dishwasher runs like a dream.
In just about 2 hours I went from Panic, to Hopeful, to Thankful, and now I was in Planning Mode. The nasty landlord could take my deposit as the last month's rent. I'm not paying him a penny more than I have to. And I have four days to move. DH looked at the house on his lunch break and he was more impressed than I was. I managed to land us a great house, in the same town at the same rent, ready to move into, for no money out of pocket, and I managed it in TWO HOURS. Yeah, I was pretty proud of myself, too. And Thanking God for His miracle (and the dishwasher.)
June 21 - I rent a storage unit a mile or so outside of town. The only one IN town was owned by the Nasty Landlord. We get a great deal on a huge unit and I go home to start packing the first load to go into it.We secure a truck, a trailer, and a buddy for Saturday. That meant not paying for a moving truck. DH and I both agree that we can't be out any sooner than Sunday. We also agree that we will not wait until the last minute to do anything. We start packing, Anything non-essential goes to the storage unit (this is easy, because all our non-essentials were still boxed up from the move 10 months ago.) The stuff that we need for the house gets packed up in bins, baskets, and the few empty boxes we have. We take them to the new house, empty them, put the stuff away, and take the bins back to the old house to use again. Wash. Rinse. Repeat. We did this several times a day through Friday night.
DH is working from home, so he spends his lunch hour packing and making one trip to the storage unit. Then, as soon as he logs out at work, he packs, loads, and delivers at least two van loads every night before going to bed. I still have pain, fatigue, and three kids home for the Summer to deal with. I try to do as much as I can, and I enlist the kids to help out as much as they can, but I still have to rest and nap at least twice a day.
June 25 - Technically, we were supposed to be "gone" by yesterday, but the Nasty Landlord hasn't showed up so we put him out of our minds and focus on moving out. Our friend shows up and helps us move everything we can fit in a van. By 4:00 our other friend shows up with the trailer and we can move the heavy stuff and anything too big to fit in a van. The trailer is only 4'X8' so this means moving one piece of furniture at a time. Thankfully, we have only a few blocks to go between houses. By the time he leaves at 9:00, all the beds are moved to the new house so at 11:00 we all crash hard. This is the first night in the new house.
June 26 - Mother and Father in law show up to help finish up the move. I have no idea what I would do without these amazing and wonderful people. By 11:30 that night, we are completely moved out of the old house and it is cleaned. In fact, it is in better shape than when we moved in.
Today, a week later, we are still unpacking and I'm not quite sure where everything will go. A lot of our craft stuff and most of our books and movies are in storage. The second living area is really big so Little Heart gets to have it as her bedroom as long as we can have our essential craft stuff in there, too. We are going to rig a pretty curtain across the doorway so she can have a little privacy, but it isn't totally necessary. The younger two get a bedroom to share and it is big enough that we could break down their bunk beds and let them sleep on separate sides of the room for the first time. In spite of my trepidation, we hooked up a TV in there so that they can watch movies and stuff while DH is working. With the door closed, you can't even tell that there is a TV in there. The front room has a desk for my computer and my bead work. The owners left this awesome big desk in there and it has room for everything I need it for. DH set up a small desk for his work in our bedroom so he has the extra noise reduction of the bedroom door while he is on the phone.Even our pet seems happier! Earlier this week, I had to give the BBD (Big Black Dog) a bath so I could give him the monthly flea treatment. I t was really hot outside and I really didn't feel like squatting and leaning over him so I brushed him really well and walked him right into the shower. I used the detachable part of the shower head, sat right on the shower floor next to him, and was able to wash him with the door closed so he couldn't jump out. It was the easiest bath he's ever gotten (he might have a different story though.)
Is it perfect? No. Is it amazingly better than I could have ever hoped for? Absolutely. Everyone agrees that this is the prettiest and nicest house we have ever lived in. No one feels cramped. We all have our own spaces now. The kitchen and dining area are set up to make the most of the space they have. We even put a rolling "island" in the middle and we can still move around with no trouble. The kids haven't complained even once about the dishes because, of course, we have a dishwasher.
I even think this place is better for my health. Since moving in, I haven't had as much pain, I haven't had to sleep as much, and I have gone to bed every night with a shiny sink and a swept floor. In spite of the curve ball we have all been thrown, things actually seem more peaceful, calm, and altogether happier than I remember feeling in a long time. DH and I have been throwing around the idea of not moving out when we get our credit repaired. We might just stay here and use the money we would have spent on a bigger house to build on to this one. This house was built in a way to make adding on a room very easy. The front and back yards are both so big we could add on rooms, work sheds, and maybe even a garage and there would still be plenty of room left to breathe. Besides that, the whole house is new and in great condition. There isn't another house in town that we can say that about, except for the newly added on subdivision across the highway. Those houses are much bigger - too big - and MUCH more pricey (TOO pricey.) We haven't made the final choice yet, but not having to move again sure sounds good to me.
Today was our first real "day off" since we found out about the move. DH and I took the kids out all day. We went window shopping at IKEA and we finally got to the eye doctor so DH could get new glasses (he has only been putting it off for 8 years or so.) We ate dinner at a real restaurant (for a change) and we laughed so loud at dinner that the waitress thought we were crazy. I feel more relieved and stress free than I feel I have a right to.
So, tonight I am going to bed and sleeping well.
Monday, June 6, 2011
Silly Stuff
First full week of Summer is in full swing here. For some that would mean vacations and swimming and all sorts of fun. I suppose the fun part is happening. I believe that is what my kids call it when I sit in one room while they destroy the rest of the house. I'm sure I will eventually come out of my "home office" (aka on my bed with my laptop) and yell and scream about the mess. I just don't want to. Not yet anyway. I'm not being neglectful. I have my reasons.
The first reason? The house smells DELICIOUS! (and I had nothing to do with it.) LH has a Beginning of Summer Band Party to go to this afternoon and the low brass was asked to bring dessert. Being that she plays cornet (Thanks awesome friend Karen) and that she is always thrifty (yeah, I know....funny!) and she enjoys the chance to bake (when it is on HER terms, anyway) she and a few of her cohorts are makings messes....er, I mean cookies in the kitchen.
The first batch is what we have come to call her signature snafu, Snookerdiddles. She keeps trying to make Snickerdoodles, but the recipe asks you to add half the flour first and later add the rest of the flour and she just doesn't seem to remember that second part. Instead of cookies, she ends up with a melted, over sweet, mushy mess that we have to scrape off the cookie sheet (and eat by oursleves, of course, since mushy crumbs are not fit for serving to anyone else. Right?)
Now she is attempting something else that I'm not sure is going well either. It involves ground coffee and sour cream, I think? I'm not really sure. If we're lucky, she'll end up messing this one up too and we'll get to snack on more ugly but tasty disasters. I think I just heard the mixer going, then pre-teen style swearing (Oh DARN! What the HECK! HOLY MOLY!!!) and maybe the scent of scorched sweetness? Alas, I fear a second snack is not to be...
The other two wanted to be busy in the kitchen and since LH has the monopoly on the oven and mixer, They decided to turn oranges into orange juice. By hand. Zaniness ensues. I'm not sure if they got to drink any, or if the three hours of work all ended up on the counter, but I've decided I'll wait until later to see for sure. Going in there now will surely only cause heartache for everyone. I'll see the wreckage, lose my cool, yell some NOT pre-teen style swear words, I'll end up grouchy, and the mess will still be there. No. Better to let messy dogs lie for the moment.
EG has been cooking up some sweetness of her own today. TD's birthday is in about a week so she is making a super secret present for her. "Super Secret" means that she makes all the pieces where everyone can see, but she tells her sister it is definitely NOT a present being made for her birthday. It might be described as a dozen or more things before it becomes the gift, but it is totally NOT a birthday present. By the time the Big Day gets here, it will be assembled, wrapped (probably in typing paper with hand made decorations) and presented to the Birthday Girl, who will pretend to be utterly surprised and say she had NO IDEA what her sister was up to all week. Yeah, it's goofy, but my kids are cool like that.
Well, time for my nap so I can avoid the disaster for yet another hour.
Deb "The Mom" Lollar
The first reason? The house smells DELICIOUS! (and I had nothing to do with it.) LH has a Beginning of Summer Band Party to go to this afternoon and the low brass was asked to bring dessert. Being that she plays cornet (Thanks awesome friend Karen) and that she is always thrifty (yeah, I know....funny!) and she enjoys the chance to bake (when it is on HER terms, anyway) she and a few of her cohorts are makings messes....er, I mean cookies in the kitchen.
The first batch is what we have come to call her signature snafu, Snookerdiddles. She keeps trying to make Snickerdoodles, but the recipe asks you to add half the flour first and later add the rest of the flour and she just doesn't seem to remember that second part. Instead of cookies, she ends up with a melted, over sweet, mushy mess that we have to scrape off the cookie sheet (and eat by oursleves, of course, since mushy crumbs are not fit for serving to anyone else. Right?)
Now she is attempting something else that I'm not sure is going well either. It involves ground coffee and sour cream, I think? I'm not really sure. If we're lucky, she'll end up messing this one up too and we'll get to snack on more ugly but tasty disasters. I think I just heard the mixer going, then pre-teen style swearing (Oh DARN! What the HECK! HOLY MOLY!!!) and maybe the scent of scorched sweetness? Alas, I fear a second snack is not to be...
The other two wanted to be busy in the kitchen and since LH has the monopoly on the oven and mixer, They decided to turn oranges into orange juice. By hand. Zaniness ensues. I'm not sure if they got to drink any, or if the three hours of work all ended up on the counter, but I've decided I'll wait until later to see for sure. Going in there now will surely only cause heartache for everyone. I'll see the wreckage, lose my cool, yell some NOT pre-teen style swear words, I'll end up grouchy, and the mess will still be there. No. Better to let messy dogs lie for the moment.
EG has been cooking up some sweetness of her own today. TD's birthday is in about a week so she is making a super secret present for her. "Super Secret" means that she makes all the pieces where everyone can see, but she tells her sister it is definitely NOT a present being made for her birthday. It might be described as a dozen or more things before it becomes the gift, but it is totally NOT a birthday present. By the time the Big Day gets here, it will be assembled, wrapped (probably in typing paper with hand made decorations) and presented to the Birthday Girl, who will pretend to be utterly surprised and say she had NO IDEA what her sister was up to all week. Yeah, it's goofy, but my kids are cool like that.
Well, time for my nap so I can avoid the disaster for yet another hour.
Deb "The Mom" Lollar
Friday, June 3, 2011
Say it isn't so...
Little Heart is officially a High School kid.
Yesterday they had a whole8th grade graduation ceremony with gowns (no caps) and gave out awards and everyone crossed the stage to get their diploma. I admit, I cried a little. Ok, I cried a lot. Everyone around me in the bleachers surely thought I was one of those crazy parents who hover and make a big deal about every little thing my kids do. Maybe I am, but I don't care. I couldn't be prouder of my kiddos.
Part of what choked me up was just the realization that all this might never have happened. Had I taken the advice of some very well-meaning doctors, I would never have brought her into the world. Had I taken a path with more certainty, I would have faced even more heartache from losing her quickly. Had she decided to give even one ounce less of a fight, she would have been a much different child. Without the incredible support of my family, all the prayers, the doctors, nurses, surgeons, hospital staff, and even all our friends my Little Heart MIGHT have been smaller, weaker, sicker, developmentally delayed or permanently inhibited.But she isn't.
What I have now, in my oldest daughter, is a wonderful, amazing, beautiful young woman who is literally capable of anything any other average child is. Just that fact alone is a miracle. That she didn't just survive, but EXCELLED at this thing called life... well, it just takes my breath away.
Here's a few little secrets I haven't told her. I am so proud of her I could bust. There isn't one thing that she does in her daily life that doesn't astound me. Everything from waking up and dressing herself to making her way through school and on back to being the normal kid she is around all her friends - all of it is something I never thought would happen. Her little sisters look up to her and think she is the coolest EVAR and I can't blame them. I kind of agree. I have to keep it quiet, though, or I might just blow my whole cover.
First off, I do tell her I am proud of her. I tell her all the time. I just can't say just HOW proud I am. Here's why I can't tell her that every day. Not only are there not enough words to describe it adequately, but I am afraid to really let her know what a miraculous creation she is to me. You see, I strive every moment of every day to make sure she believes she is the same as everyone else. If I let on just how amazing it is that she can make her own ramen noodles in the afternoon, maybe she will stop striving to be better and better than she already is. If I tell her that her reading Twilight or a Harry Potter book is commendable for someone that I was told might not live to learn to read, will decide that she doesn't need to work harder and reach further? Will she become so confident in her own limits that she won't try to push them?
I guess it is a pretty backwards way to think - that if I tell her that she means more to me than breath, that she will take it for granted and maybe won't live up to even more? Also, I think it is a bit scary to ME to realize it sometimes. Looking at her, I see a fragile china doll, not a sturdy 13 year old who is ready to take on the world. What if she starts to view herself as breakable and starts to fear the rough side of life? I don't want anything to ever cause her to pause and rethink how far she can push herself. I managed to convince her to join the marching band next year. She thinks it will be a lot of work and all she can focus on is giving up her last month of vacation to start band practice early. Little does she realize that it's all for me. I want to be able to go to every football game and see my little girl on the field or in the stands and be able to say to everyone around, "That's MY girl. The little one with the trumpet! That's HER! We never thought she would leave the hospital 14 years ago and now look at her!"
I am confident that she knows I love her and that I am proud of her. I just can't bring myself to even come close to letting on just how much that is. I'm going to go hug her and punch her in the arm and say something like, "You're cool, for a kid."
What I will be saying in my heart is, "You are the most incredible creation I have ever come into contact with. I couldn't imagine loving you more or being more proud of you."
Maybe she will be able to read between the lines.
Deb "Band Mom" Lollar
Yesterday they had a whole8th grade graduation ceremony with gowns (no caps) and gave out awards and everyone crossed the stage to get their diploma. I admit, I cried a little. Ok, I cried a lot. Everyone around me in the bleachers surely thought I was one of those crazy parents who hover and make a big deal about every little thing my kids do. Maybe I am, but I don't care. I couldn't be prouder of my kiddos.
Part of what choked me up was just the realization that all this might never have happened. Had I taken the advice of some very well-meaning doctors, I would never have brought her into the world. Had I taken a path with more certainty, I would have faced even more heartache from losing her quickly. Had she decided to give even one ounce less of a fight, she would have been a much different child. Without the incredible support of my family, all the prayers, the doctors, nurses, surgeons, hospital staff, and even all our friends my Little Heart MIGHT have been smaller, weaker, sicker, developmentally delayed or permanently inhibited.But she isn't.
What I have now, in my oldest daughter, is a wonderful, amazing, beautiful young woman who is literally capable of anything any other average child is. Just that fact alone is a miracle. That she didn't just survive, but EXCELLED at this thing called life... well, it just takes my breath away.
Here's a few little secrets I haven't told her. I am so proud of her I could bust. There isn't one thing that she does in her daily life that doesn't astound me. Everything from waking up and dressing herself to making her way through school and on back to being the normal kid she is around all her friends - all of it is something I never thought would happen. Her little sisters look up to her and think she is the coolest EVAR and I can't blame them. I kind of agree. I have to keep it quiet, though, or I might just blow my whole cover.
First off, I do tell her I am proud of her. I tell her all the time. I just can't say just HOW proud I am. Here's why I can't tell her that every day. Not only are there not enough words to describe it adequately, but I am afraid to really let her know what a miraculous creation she is to me. You see, I strive every moment of every day to make sure she believes she is the same as everyone else. If I let on just how amazing it is that she can make her own ramen noodles in the afternoon, maybe she will stop striving to be better and better than she already is. If I tell her that her reading Twilight or a Harry Potter book is commendable for someone that I was told might not live to learn to read, will decide that she doesn't need to work harder and reach further? Will she become so confident in her own limits that she won't try to push them?
I guess it is a pretty backwards way to think - that if I tell her that she means more to me than breath, that she will take it for granted and maybe won't live up to even more? Also, I think it is a bit scary to ME to realize it sometimes. Looking at her, I see a fragile china doll, not a sturdy 13 year old who is ready to take on the world. What if she starts to view herself as breakable and starts to fear the rough side of life? I don't want anything to ever cause her to pause and rethink how far she can push herself. I managed to convince her to join the marching band next year. She thinks it will be a lot of work and all she can focus on is giving up her last month of vacation to start band practice early. Little does she realize that it's all for me. I want to be able to go to every football game and see my little girl on the field or in the stands and be able to say to everyone around, "That's MY girl. The little one with the trumpet! That's HER! We never thought she would leave the hospital 14 years ago and now look at her!"
I am confident that she knows I love her and that I am proud of her. I just can't bring myself to even come close to letting on just how much that is. I'm going to go hug her and punch her in the arm and say something like, "You're cool, for a kid."
What I will be saying in my heart is, "You are the most incredible creation I have ever come into contact with. I couldn't imagine loving you more or being more proud of you."
Maybe she will be able to read between the lines.
Deb "Band Mom" Lollar
Tuesday, May 31, 2011
Breathe in, breathe out...
My favorite laptop appears to be dead as a doornail. So I started to use the desk top that normally gets used by the kids. Last night, it got sick with a nasty virus and until it gets cleaned, I can't even turn the darn thing on. DH is in the process of cleaning it, but it isn't a quick fix. The virus it got is the same one it got before. Either all the anti-virus updates that we use are completely no good or the darn thing never got cleaned in the first place (which also means all the anti-virus updates we have are no good.) So, now I get to use my LEAST favorite computer just to feel like I am not completely separated from the real world. This is making me feel grouchy and mean.
I know I shouldn't complain. Some people don't have any computers and here I am griping about having three. It would be much easier to be appreciative, though, if the keys were all where they were supposed to be (why is the Del next to the space bar?) and if the N key was actually there (instead of a space that I have to pound where the N should be.) So I have to use a portable extra keyboard which is exactly like the laptop's keyboard. Grrrrr.... Also, if my hooflings would stop being nasty to each other, I would be eternally grateful. Somehow each of them came home with separate, grouchy moods and it's making the perfect storm of ugliness around here.
There are only two half days of school left of this year and instead of making the girls giddy with anticipation, all three of them have bad attitudes! What is up with that? We had a nice and relaxing three-day weekend so they aren't tired and worn out. Truly I don't know what t he problem is and I don't entirely care. I just want it to stop. I have a hard enough time getting motivated to just get out of bed. Dealing with bickering and back talk and arguing is just more than I care to put up with.
I'm starting to feel like one of "those" moms. The ones you see in the store with the unruly kids and they just keep yelling and swearing at everything the kids do? Ok, I'm probably not THAT bad, but I don't like feeling like this. I tell the kids, "finish your snack and get started on the chores you didn't finish last night."
Suddenly, I'm a monster. I get disgusted looks of shock and I'm immediately barraged with reason's why they just CAN'T, and how tired they are and how it just isn't fair...Seriously? I'm asking you to pick up your OWN dirty clothes here, not trek, uphill, three miles in the snow.
I don't think I am being unreasonable. Each of them has a section of the house that they are responsible for. LH does the living room and the bedroom. EG does the bathroom and sorts the dirty laundry. TD takes care of the kitchen, but they all do the dishes. DH handles the laundry and the money making. I handle everything else. I don't think it is that big a deal. Any of the areas could be completed in 15 minutes or less (if they didn't spend 45 minutes griping and then put it off for three days.) I admit, my kids have more responsibilities than most of their friends do. (I overheard one of the teens complaining that SHE had to WALK THE DOG EVERY DAY!!! Oh, the humanity!) But, I don't think it is out of the realm of fairness to ask them to do it. for ten years I was in charge of all of it and I only asked them to keep up their rooms. Well, now, I admit that I can't do it all, but it still has to be done.
If they would simply take care of their own stuff, they wouldn't really have a problem. They just don't MAKE SENSE that way. They have to come home from school and explode all over the living room, get a snack and leave a trail of food-mess all over the house like a messy snail track, and fling clothes in every room of the house while getting dressed for bed. No matter the routines I write down, or the rules I yell about, or the threats I make, or pleading I do the house always looks like I have a gaggle of toddlers in here. Actually, I think it looked better when they WERE all toddlers.
My kids all share one bedroom for the time being, so I know they don't have much room for their own things or even really to play in the there. That means is they want to relax, they either mess up their room (that is already a wreck) or they drag their stuff into our one living area. I'll give you one guess where the entire Littlest Pet Shop collection is right now (and it isn't in the LABELED DRAWER that was created for them.) The dining area is connected to the kitchen, so cooking and eating usually take place in almost the same space. I would think that this would mean things are CLEANER because it is only three steps from the dining table to the sink. Not so. It just means the kids get grouchier and more overwhelmed looking at the table AND the counters at the same time.
Laundry? I don't even know why I bother. Once DH washes and dries everything he takes the baskets out of the laundry area so they don't get confused with the dirty stuff and rewashed. Ah, but where do they go? In the dining room (because it shares the doorway with the dining area) or in the living room because it is not quite as far as going ALL THE WAY DOWN THE HALL to the bedrooms. IF the clothes baskets ever make it to the appropriate bedroom, that is usually as far as it will go. Apparently, taking something out of a basket and putting it in the dresser (directly in front f you) is far too much work to do (for anyone but me. (I admit I have clean clothes on the foot of my bed but that has more to do with the closet door being blocked by the dog than anything else.). It's just too hard. That must be why it never gets done. By the time the clothes are dirty and (eventually) make it back to the laundry room, there is a good chance that they have never even seen the dresser drawer. Most likely they were pulled out of the basket, already unfolded and rumpled, worn until they were about to walk by themselves, and then they were tossed in the bathroom hamper and left until the last moment when it was absolutely necessary for it to be worn.
This house is tiny. I think the first apartment I lived in was probably about the same size as this. We don't have room for clutter or mess. Just walking around makes me crazy. But, actually cleaning up everyone else's mess makes me angry on top of worn out. I hate not wanting to let people in the house when they knock on the door, and not having a good place to let the kids do their homework or color and draw. There isn't a place to practice musical instruments or work on posters and projects for school. Maybe this house would work better if we didn't all have so many hobbies, but that would not be nearly as interesting.
I hope you will excuse my monthly rant about housework. I have been working so hard lately trying to get back on track energy-wise, and it feels like the more I do, the less the kids help and the more mess they make. I can't wrap my brain around this. EG has never known me before I got sick. She has only ever known me to be slow and tired and need help. TD was only two when I got sick. It doesn't make sense that they think I am going to go behind them and clean up their disaster area. I never have before. With LH, I can almost understand it, she is rather self-focused much of the time, so if it doesn't get up and bite her, she will never notice it.
In any case, I have stopped being nice and I no longer can tolerate the mess or their general ignorance of it. I hate to have them trapped inside all summer simply because they won't wipe up the PB&J off the counter or move their shoes out of the walkway, but that is about what it is going to come down to. If they won't do it, neither will I. And if they refuse to do the simplest of things, like throwing a PAPER PLATE into the garbage, then maybe I won't do the simplest thing like take them to the pool, the shopping mall, the park...even the grocery store. I'm going to give them until 10:00 each morning to get their 15 minutes of chores done every day. If it isn't done by then, the day's plans get canceled. That's really a shame, too, because I really wanted to get a tan this summer.
What do you guys think? Am I being unfair? Too strict? A big meanie head? Expecting too much of a 13, 9, and 7 yr old? Or is it reasonable to expect them to be able to clean up by themselves, the mess that they made by themselves? Sound off and let me hear what you think.
Deb "The Mean Mom" Lollar
I know I shouldn't complain. Some people don't have any computers and here I am griping about having three. It would be much easier to be appreciative, though, if the keys were all where they were supposed to be (why is the Del next to the space bar?) and if the N key was actually there (instead of a space that I have to pound where the N should be.) So I have to use a portable extra keyboard which is exactly like the laptop's keyboard. Grrrrr.... Also, if my hooflings would stop being nasty to each other, I would be eternally grateful. Somehow each of them came home with separate, grouchy moods and it's making the perfect storm of ugliness around here.
There are only two half days of school left of this year and instead of making the girls giddy with anticipation, all three of them have bad attitudes! What is up with that? We had a nice and relaxing three-day weekend so they aren't tired and worn out. Truly I don't know what t he problem is and I don't entirely care. I just want it to stop. I have a hard enough time getting motivated to just get out of bed. Dealing with bickering and back talk and arguing is just more than I care to put up with.
I'm starting to feel like one of "those" moms. The ones you see in the store with the unruly kids and they just keep yelling and swearing at everything the kids do? Ok, I'm probably not THAT bad, but I don't like feeling like this. I tell the kids, "finish your snack and get started on the chores you didn't finish last night."
Suddenly, I'm a monster. I get disgusted looks of shock and I'm immediately barraged with reason's why they just CAN'T, and how tired they are and how it just isn't fair...Seriously? I'm asking you to pick up your OWN dirty clothes here, not trek, uphill, three miles in the snow.
I don't think I am being unreasonable. Each of them has a section of the house that they are responsible for. LH does the living room and the bedroom. EG does the bathroom and sorts the dirty laundry. TD takes care of the kitchen, but they all do the dishes. DH handles the laundry and the money making. I handle everything else. I don't think it is that big a deal. Any of the areas could be completed in 15 minutes or less (if they didn't spend 45 minutes griping and then put it off for three days.) I admit, my kids have more responsibilities than most of their friends do. (I overheard one of the teens complaining that SHE had to WALK THE DOG EVERY DAY!!! Oh, the humanity!) But, I don't think it is out of the realm of fairness to ask them to do it. for ten years I was in charge of all of it and I only asked them to keep up their rooms. Well, now, I admit that I can't do it all, but it still has to be done.
If they would simply take care of their own stuff, they wouldn't really have a problem. They just don't MAKE SENSE that way. They have to come home from school and explode all over the living room, get a snack and leave a trail of food-mess all over the house like a messy snail track, and fling clothes in every room of the house while getting dressed for bed. No matter the routines I write down, or the rules I yell about, or the threats I make, or pleading I do the house always looks like I have a gaggle of toddlers in here. Actually, I think it looked better when they WERE all toddlers.
My kids all share one bedroom for the time being, so I know they don't have much room for their own things or even really to play in the there. That means is they want to relax, they either mess up their room (that is already a wreck) or they drag their stuff into our one living area. I'll give you one guess where the entire Littlest Pet Shop collection is right now (and it isn't in the LABELED DRAWER that was created for them.) The dining area is connected to the kitchen, so cooking and eating usually take place in almost the same space. I would think that this would mean things are CLEANER because it is only three steps from the dining table to the sink. Not so. It just means the kids get grouchier and more overwhelmed looking at the table AND the counters at the same time.
Laundry? I don't even know why I bother. Once DH washes and dries everything he takes the baskets out of the laundry area so they don't get confused with the dirty stuff and rewashed. Ah, but where do they go? In the dining room (because it shares the doorway with the dining area) or in the living room because it is not quite as far as going ALL THE WAY DOWN THE HALL to the bedrooms. IF the clothes baskets ever make it to the appropriate bedroom, that is usually as far as it will go. Apparently, taking something out of a basket and putting it in the dresser (directly in front f you) is far too much work to do (for anyone but me. (I admit I have clean clothes on the foot of my bed but that has more to do with the closet door being blocked by the dog than anything else.). It's just too hard. That must be why it never gets done. By the time the clothes are dirty and (eventually) make it back to the laundry room, there is a good chance that they have never even seen the dresser drawer. Most likely they were pulled out of the basket, already unfolded and rumpled, worn until they were about to walk by themselves, and then they were tossed in the bathroom hamper and left until the last moment when it was absolutely necessary for it to be worn.
This house is tiny. I think the first apartment I lived in was probably about the same size as this. We don't have room for clutter or mess. Just walking around makes me crazy. But, actually cleaning up everyone else's mess makes me angry on top of worn out. I hate not wanting to let people in the house when they knock on the door, and not having a good place to let the kids do their homework or color and draw. There isn't a place to practice musical instruments or work on posters and projects for school. Maybe this house would work better if we didn't all have so many hobbies, but that would not be nearly as interesting.
I hope you will excuse my monthly rant about housework. I have been working so hard lately trying to get back on track energy-wise, and it feels like the more I do, the less the kids help and the more mess they make. I can't wrap my brain around this. EG has never known me before I got sick. She has only ever known me to be slow and tired and need help. TD was only two when I got sick. It doesn't make sense that they think I am going to go behind them and clean up their disaster area. I never have before. With LH, I can almost understand it, she is rather self-focused much of the time, so if it doesn't get up and bite her, she will never notice it.
In any case, I have stopped being nice and I no longer can tolerate the mess or their general ignorance of it. I hate to have them trapped inside all summer simply because they won't wipe up the PB&J off the counter or move their shoes out of the walkway, but that is about what it is going to come down to. If they won't do it, neither will I. And if they refuse to do the simplest of things, like throwing a PAPER PLATE into the garbage, then maybe I won't do the simplest thing like take them to the pool, the shopping mall, the park...even the grocery store. I'm going to give them until 10:00 each morning to get their 15 minutes of chores done every day. If it isn't done by then, the day's plans get canceled. That's really a shame, too, because I really wanted to get a tan this summer.
What do you guys think? Am I being unfair? Too strict? A big meanie head? Expecting too much of a 13, 9, and 7 yr old? Or is it reasonable to expect them to be able to clean up by themselves, the mess that they made by themselves? Sound off and let me hear what you think.
Deb "The Mean Mom" Lollar
Saturday, May 28, 2011
Ok, I get it...Now leave me alone.
My brain is telling my consciousness that something has to change. I keep having dreams that are very vivid, memorable, and seem to be communicating all sorts of things. Most of the time, dreams are your brain's (the physical side) way of "taking out the garbage" so that your mind (the sentient side) can get rid of silly things that clutter it up. All day long, millions of unimportant thoughts cross your subconscious mind. When you don't have time or aren't able to examine those thoughts during the day, your mind files them away for the brain to take care of later. Without dreams, your mind becomes so cluttered with every little thought that you can literally go insane. (Go look up what happens to insomniacs that NEVER sleep.)
For people who wish to see it, all this "garbage dumping" can have an educational side to it. When your brain finds something it really thinks you ought to examine further, you end up with very vivid and memorable dreams. For the most part (I read this somewhere) 50% of your dreams are gone from your memory within 10 minutes of waking up. Within an hour, only 10% of your dreams are memorable - if you remembered them when you first woke up. Only the important stuff ever makes through to the first 10 minutes. Only the critical stuff ever makes it past an hour. If you want to remember it much past there, most people need to write it down or speak it out loud so it can be committed to a more permanent part of the brain.
I often get these very vivid dreams, especially when I have woken up in the morning and then gone back to bed for a short nap. I personally feel that my brain and my mind are capable of much more activity than I get in one day. Because I don't exercise my bran as much as I can (because my body holds me back) my brain likes to tell my mind just what it thinks I SHOULD be doing. In short, I get not only vivid dreams, but meaningful ones - if I take the time to decipher them.
The world of dreams is not as straightforward as the normal world is. That's when you get in to dream translation and deciphering and inner meaning. There are tons of people who feel images and symbols in your dreams always mean something specific. But, while one person feels water is sign of rebirth and positive change, another might feel that water is symbol for death and an omen of something dire in your near future. Some of it makes sense in your gut feelings and you know that there is some glimmer of truth for you. That doesn't mean that every bit of every person's philosophy is 100% true for you. Dreams are a personal thing, after all. Some people say that losing your teeth in a dream is a sign that you fear death. However, my father has dreams where he loses his teeth and it is always a huge relief. He has bad teeth and is always in pain, so for him the teeth thing, er..doesn't hold water.
Anyway, I have been having extremely vivid dreams over the past week and while the dreams aren't exactly recurring , the images and aspects of them are. Often, In my dreams, I keep deciding to run off with an old boyfriend and leave my current life behind. Does it mean I am not fantastically happy and in love my DH? Of course not. I love him more than life and I can't imagine being without him. (Besides, he's already trained.) I'm sure this has more to do with wanting the excitement and thrill that comes with young relationships and making big, bold, daring decisions. Lately, every big decision I have made has caused me to fall flat on my face. I never dream of running off with DH and leaving the world behind. He is my symbol of strength, and solidarity, and security.
Back in the "boyfriend years" I was never happy with my personal appearance, but now, I look back and I would do nearly anything to be that size and shape again. I was small but curvy and I had long hair and I never needed to wear makeup. Actually, I wasn't that bad looking. Today, I'm bored, and sometimes lonely, and I long for the days when I could look in the mirror and be happy with what I saw. I have extra pounds and skin that I am still fighting to reclaim from adult acne and to top it all off I have a bad haircut and I regret starting the whole "dyeing" spiral of eternal coloring. If it meant being that person again, who wouldn't want to go back a few years (at least temporarily.)
Other recurring themes are water, eggs, rabbits, cats, and adorably cute babies. I'm pretty sure this is related to a) reading too much Cheezeburger Network, and b)wishing I had my own baby, kitten, bunny, etc. to snuggle. With all the free time on my hands, I just feel the need to be productive, and you can produce anything more amazing than another human being.
However, while three kids are a handful and DH and I are actually enjoying them being older and more self-sufficient, a part of me is still feeling the biological clock ticking. I have many friends my own age who are pregnant, just had babies, or are still cuddling their toddlers at home. All my life I wanted to be a Supermom. The woman who had a career and babies and just seemed to make it all work. Then I actually HAD babies and I found I wanted nothing more than to stay home and bask in their beauty (until potty training age of course.) I struggled with the pain and guilt of needing to work and not being able to be home with them, or being home with them but not having enough money to make ends meet. I occasionally wish I would have had both girls and boys so DH would have his own little boy to take to Cub Scouts and all that. In reality, though, I am pretty sure I don't have the energy to handle boy toddlers, or boy potty training, or boy children, or boy teens. Besides, with girls like mine, the only part I'm missing is them actually being a Cub Scout.
Generally, I don't like to complain unless I do something about it. I can make all the plans I want and do all I can to prepare for a new start but I haven't gotten much good out of those plans. Unfortunately, it is more like an ice cream binge - it feels so good at the time, but the next day you feel ashamed of your lack of self control and let down that you got nothing out of it.
Sitting here, I can see where I have fallen and failed before. I recognize the pitfalls only in hindsight. I'm a great sprinter. I make it off the starting line and do great for the first quarter mile. Then, I lose energy, momentum, and I don't have the staying power to finish the race. I'm a poster girl for "Too much too fast." I'll jump in with both feet and burn out long before the goal is accomplished. Poor DH sees it happen all the time. When I try to take on a new endeavor, he KNOWS I'll crash and burn. He KNOWS I won't complete the race. However, he has learned not to warn me or tell me to slow down. The Supermom in me takes all the negative comments and tries to use them to fuel my fire of success. There isn't much energy in negative anything, though and I will crash and burn even harder than before. Only now, I will have the embarrassment of listening to someone say, "I told you so."
So, what's a girl to do? I WANT to do more and have a somewhat normal life, but even the simplest of routines elude me. I WANT to make a difference in the world, but I can't be sure I will even get out of bed every day. I WANT to have something to show for these past seven years of pain and mood swings and fatigue, but there isn't anything there besides 60 extra pounds and a dozen journals filled with depressive bitching. Most people would love to have a life where 75% of the day is free time and you can do whatever you want with it. I feel like I waste 75% of every day because I never do what I want with it. I let my body and my illness set the pace and I feel incredibly wasteful for it.
The only thing I DO know is that I have to do something. I need to make a change - big or small, I don't care - that will put my brain at ease and let my mind know that it can stop digging at me to make a move. I left my boyfriends in the past for a reason. They can stay there, now. Thank you very much.
Deb "The Dreamer" Lollar
For people who wish to see it, all this "garbage dumping" can have an educational side to it. When your brain finds something it really thinks you ought to examine further, you end up with very vivid and memorable dreams. For the most part (I read this somewhere) 50% of your dreams are gone from your memory within 10 minutes of waking up. Within an hour, only 10% of your dreams are memorable - if you remembered them when you first woke up. Only the important stuff ever makes through to the first 10 minutes. Only the critical stuff ever makes it past an hour. If you want to remember it much past there, most people need to write it down or speak it out loud so it can be committed to a more permanent part of the brain.
I often get these very vivid dreams, especially when I have woken up in the morning and then gone back to bed for a short nap. I personally feel that my brain and my mind are capable of much more activity than I get in one day. Because I don't exercise my bran as much as I can (because my body holds me back) my brain likes to tell my mind just what it thinks I SHOULD be doing. In short, I get not only vivid dreams, but meaningful ones - if I take the time to decipher them.
The world of dreams is not as straightforward as the normal world is. That's when you get in to dream translation and deciphering and inner meaning. There are tons of people who feel images and symbols in your dreams always mean something specific. But, while one person feels water is sign of rebirth and positive change, another might feel that water is symbol for death and an omen of something dire in your near future. Some of it makes sense in your gut feelings and you know that there is some glimmer of truth for you. That doesn't mean that every bit of every person's philosophy is 100% true for you. Dreams are a personal thing, after all. Some people say that losing your teeth in a dream is a sign that you fear death. However, my father has dreams where he loses his teeth and it is always a huge relief. He has bad teeth and is always in pain, so for him the teeth thing, er..doesn't hold water.
Anyway, I have been having extremely vivid dreams over the past week and while the dreams aren't exactly recurring , the images and aspects of them are. Often, In my dreams, I keep deciding to run off with an old boyfriend and leave my current life behind. Does it mean I am not fantastically happy and in love my DH? Of course not. I love him more than life and I can't imagine being without him. (Besides, he's already trained.) I'm sure this has more to do with wanting the excitement and thrill that comes with young relationships and making big, bold, daring decisions. Lately, every big decision I have made has caused me to fall flat on my face. I never dream of running off with DH and leaving the world behind. He is my symbol of strength, and solidarity, and security.
Back in the "boyfriend years" I was never happy with my personal appearance, but now, I look back and I would do nearly anything to be that size and shape again. I was small but curvy and I had long hair and I never needed to wear makeup. Actually, I wasn't that bad looking. Today, I'm bored, and sometimes lonely, and I long for the days when I could look in the mirror and be happy with what I saw. I have extra pounds and skin that I am still fighting to reclaim from adult acne and to top it all off I have a bad haircut and I regret starting the whole "dyeing" spiral of eternal coloring. If it meant being that person again, who wouldn't want to go back a few years (at least temporarily.)
Other recurring themes are water, eggs, rabbits, cats, and adorably cute babies. I'm pretty sure this is related to a) reading too much Cheezeburger Network, and b)wishing I had my own baby, kitten, bunny, etc. to snuggle. With all the free time on my hands, I just feel the need to be productive, and you can produce anything more amazing than another human being.
However, while three kids are a handful and DH and I are actually enjoying them being older and more self-sufficient, a part of me is still feeling the biological clock ticking. I have many friends my own age who are pregnant, just had babies, or are still cuddling their toddlers at home. All my life I wanted to be a Supermom. The woman who had a career and babies and just seemed to make it all work. Then I actually HAD babies and I found I wanted nothing more than to stay home and bask in their beauty (until potty training age of course.) I struggled with the pain and guilt of needing to work and not being able to be home with them, or being home with them but not having enough money to make ends meet. I occasionally wish I would have had both girls and boys so DH would have his own little boy to take to Cub Scouts and all that. In reality, though, I am pretty sure I don't have the energy to handle boy toddlers, or boy potty training, or boy children, or boy teens. Besides, with girls like mine, the only part I'm missing is them actually being a Cub Scout.
Generally, I don't like to complain unless I do something about it. I can make all the plans I want and do all I can to prepare for a new start but I haven't gotten much good out of those plans. Unfortunately, it is more like an ice cream binge - it feels so good at the time, but the next day you feel ashamed of your lack of self control and let down that you got nothing out of it.
Sitting here, I can see where I have fallen and failed before. I recognize the pitfalls only in hindsight. I'm a great sprinter. I make it off the starting line and do great for the first quarter mile. Then, I lose energy, momentum, and I don't have the staying power to finish the race. I'm a poster girl for "Too much too fast." I'll jump in with both feet and burn out long before the goal is accomplished. Poor DH sees it happen all the time. When I try to take on a new endeavor, he KNOWS I'll crash and burn. He KNOWS I won't complete the race. However, he has learned not to warn me or tell me to slow down. The Supermom in me takes all the negative comments and tries to use them to fuel my fire of success. There isn't much energy in negative anything, though and I will crash and burn even harder than before. Only now, I will have the embarrassment of listening to someone say, "I told you so."
So, what's a girl to do? I WANT to do more and have a somewhat normal life, but even the simplest of routines elude me. I WANT to make a difference in the world, but I can't be sure I will even get out of bed every day. I WANT to have something to show for these past seven years of pain and mood swings and fatigue, but there isn't anything there besides 60 extra pounds and a dozen journals filled with depressive bitching. Most people would love to have a life where 75% of the day is free time and you can do whatever you want with it. I feel like I waste 75% of every day because I never do what I want with it. I let my body and my illness set the pace and I feel incredibly wasteful for it.
The only thing I DO know is that I have to do something. I need to make a change - big or small, I don't care - that will put my brain at ease and let my mind know that it can stop digging at me to make a move. I left my boyfriends in the past for a reason. They can stay there, now. Thank you very much.
Deb "The Dreamer" Lollar
Friday, May 20, 2011
Yeah, sure...ok. Whatever
End of the world tomorrow? Not likely. I could be wrong, but I'm not uncertain.
I have many reasons for doubting the hype, but I won't list them out here. It IS something to ponder, if not too deeply. Perhaps, it is just another reminder that we DON'T know when or where our last minutes will be. If I did have less than 24 hours left, would I be satisfied with what I have done? Would I be ready to go?
After a few minutes, I decided, yes. I believe I have done the best I could with what I have. I apologize when I am wrong. I try to make amends when I err. I pray for those I love and even for those I don't. I hug and kiss everyone in my family every day and tell them that I love them. I have raised my children (so far) to be good, kind, forgiving people. I have taught them to be accepting of all others, which is apparent in their actions and words. They enjoy church and love God and equally enjoy the earth and all her wonders. That seems like a pretty good accomplishment.
I have been given a very blessed life that I am every day more thankful for. Sometimes the joy seems like more than I deserve. My cup runeth over, as they say. My loving and wonderful husband is more than I could have asked for. His patience and strength is never ending it seems and he is always there to fill in where I can't. Little Heart is as healthy and strong as any one of her peers (healthier than some, even.) She is becoming an amazing and beautiful young lady. There is no sign of the sickly, tired, and failing child I was warned she would be. Tiny Dancer is a perky and friendly little girl who lives up to her name. Not one hour goes by that she isn't singing and dancing to the music in her head. Evil Genius is first a genius, and second bent on world domination and I really couldn't ask for more. Today when her teacher was cleaning out her room to prepare for the last weeks of school, EG managed to score more than half a dozen books. Each one was chosen with a family member in mind. She even brought me an Eric Carle book that I had never seen because she knows I love the artwork.
I hope that these apocalypse predictions are wrong. There is plenty more I would like to do with my life. I just started really writing my first sci-fi novel and I am so excited. I think it will be a big hit if anyone gets to read it. I want to see my kids grow up to be the amazing adults I know they will be. I want to be alone with DH after they have flown the nest and enjoy every minute of every day being close to him and happy. I want to make new friends and revisit old ones and see the Grand Canyon. I want to heal enough so that I can work again and remember what being a "normal" person feels like. In fact, a daycare is opening in town a few blocks from my home and I would love to have a chance to snuggle babies for a living again.
In any case, whether the wackos are right or not, I thank you, my readers, for letting me ramble and rant at you. I have found an amazing sense of friendship here and the therapy I have gained has helped me heal inside and out more than I ever thought.
So, tonight I'll have a glass of wine and put off doing the dishes and folding laundry. Who wants to spend their last hours on earth doing housework? But just in case I'm wrong, I'll kiss and hug my kids, just like I always do.
Lastingly yours,
Deb "Nonbeliever" Lollar
I have many reasons for doubting the hype, but I won't list them out here. It IS something to ponder, if not too deeply. Perhaps, it is just another reminder that we DON'T know when or where our last minutes will be. If I did have less than 24 hours left, would I be satisfied with what I have done? Would I be ready to go?
After a few minutes, I decided, yes. I believe I have done the best I could with what I have. I apologize when I am wrong. I try to make amends when I err. I pray for those I love and even for those I don't. I hug and kiss everyone in my family every day and tell them that I love them. I have raised my children (so far) to be good, kind, forgiving people. I have taught them to be accepting of all others, which is apparent in their actions and words. They enjoy church and love God and equally enjoy the earth and all her wonders. That seems like a pretty good accomplishment.
I have been given a very blessed life that I am every day more thankful for. Sometimes the joy seems like more than I deserve. My cup runeth over, as they say. My loving and wonderful husband is more than I could have asked for. His patience and strength is never ending it seems and he is always there to fill in where I can't. Little Heart is as healthy and strong as any one of her peers (healthier than some, even.) She is becoming an amazing and beautiful young lady. There is no sign of the sickly, tired, and failing child I was warned she would be. Tiny Dancer is a perky and friendly little girl who lives up to her name. Not one hour goes by that she isn't singing and dancing to the music in her head. Evil Genius is first a genius, and second bent on world domination and I really couldn't ask for more. Today when her teacher was cleaning out her room to prepare for the last weeks of school, EG managed to score more than half a dozen books. Each one was chosen with a family member in mind. She even brought me an Eric Carle book that I had never seen because she knows I love the artwork.
I hope that these apocalypse predictions are wrong. There is plenty more I would like to do with my life. I just started really writing my first sci-fi novel and I am so excited. I think it will be a big hit if anyone gets to read it. I want to see my kids grow up to be the amazing adults I know they will be. I want to be alone with DH after they have flown the nest and enjoy every minute of every day being close to him and happy. I want to make new friends and revisit old ones and see the Grand Canyon. I want to heal enough so that I can work again and remember what being a "normal" person feels like. In fact, a daycare is opening in town a few blocks from my home and I would love to have a chance to snuggle babies for a living again.
In any case, whether the wackos are right or not, I thank you, my readers, for letting me ramble and rant at you. I have found an amazing sense of friendship here and the therapy I have gained has helped me heal inside and out more than I ever thought.
So, tonight I'll have a glass of wine and put off doing the dishes and folding laundry. Who wants to spend their last hours on earth doing housework? But just in case I'm wrong, I'll kiss and hug my kids, just like I always do.
Lastingly yours,
Deb "Nonbeliever" Lollar
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