my night owl

There really isn't any point to this post. I just wanted to document it for prosperity's sake:


Bekah is naked, again. She has been wearing various ballet outfits throughout the day (thanks to my friend Rae-holler) but, every time she has to potty we have to start ALL over again. She is such a night owl. She RARELY goes to bed before 12:30, and hates to wake up before 10 am. Just like her dad.

Right now Ryan is asleep on the couch, Chelsea is in bed, Olivia WANTS to go to bed but won't close her eyes for fear that Rebekah will change the channel, and Bekah, well, she's just as wide awake as a pilot over the pacific. And Bekah is a little bit of a troublemaker so that makes it even more difficult.

I have finally gotten her dressed again and she is standing at my side saying, "She don't like it," trying to convince me that we need to turn the light on in the living room because the hamster is scared. And the music has come on the t.v., so she wants me to know, "It's over. It my turn."

Spongebob now.

Anyway...I have to watch her with the hamster. She just opens his cage to say hello, and he is just looking for a few seconds of "unsupervised" time with her to give her a bite and a little retribution for her shaking his exercise ball like a snow globe every time we turn our backs.

She's back again, something about buying a princess lala (Cinderella) thing at the store? Sleeping in the living room? Playing Dora games? I don't know. She doesn't make much sense. Now she's found the plastic hamster bed that Olivia broke earlier tonight and she is convinced that the hamster wants to sleep on it. She says, "Mom, we get a tape for this." "Maybe daddy can do it in the morning" I say, trying to stall. Now she says, "Hey Manny can fix it." I think that's a show. Apparently, according to Bekah, Manny's forgotten his car, but he will be here soon.

Now she doesn't want to watch Spongebob, she wants Pinky Dinky Doo. Of course that is one of the only shows that they've taken off of Cable on Demand. Now, to show her anger, she has started panting and ripping pieces of paper in half and yelling.

HOORAY. Erik's just called to say he's coming home. She has to talk to him of course. It's 10:47 pm. She's talking to dad about the hamster bed, told him he needed glue. He's clearly trying to get off the phone. Bekah says, "In a minute, I have to talk to you." Now she is talking about how they got into Chelsea's makeup tonight. I don't know if he's able to follow any of it though. You can only understand every other word or so, and to just hear and not watch her explain is especially tough. "I'm not done yet." I hear her say. She's wandered in the living room now. Something about "smack your butt and run away." "I'm not done yet" again. "Mom, someone's hang up the phone. Someone's not talking!" "DAD!" "DADDY!" "Mommy, which button?" "Dad, I need your help." "HELLO" "I can't talk now and I need to tell him something, RIGHT NOW!" "Daddy! Daddy! Don't hang the phone." Now she's really mad, she's counting. "One. Three. Five. SIX. HELLO!" "Mom, I need to talk her something."

She's found a digital camera. She is convincing me that I want to have my picture taken. She has announced that if I don't cooperate she's going to smack my butt and smack my face. "Where is the button?" "Say Cheese." Of course the lens if facing her. Now she is playing with the accordion blinds in my room, looking outside. She still can't get off the digital camera. The batteries are dead. It doesn't work....she's not dissuaded.

"Aren't you tired?" I ask. "I'm not tired mom," she says. She's found herself in the mirror.

"Hello." "Do you like my tail?" she asks in her pretty innocent voice (she is referring to the skirt on her ballerina dress). Now she is singing to herself in the mirror, while throwing the accordion blind over her head. Some song about smacking your butt and smacking your face. That must be the theme for this evening, hehe.

Now it's 11:05. "Go lay down" I sternly state. "I don't want to lay down," she replies. She's found a little people and a plastic train and she's playing with it on my bed.

Now she's crawling into the living room, "like a tiger" she says. The cartoon must of lured her in. Just for a second though, she's back now. She's giggling and shrugging her shoulders. "I love you now," she says.

Now she wants to sit in my lap. She's picked up the phone, "Hello, can I sit in mommy's lap?" she asks. "He says yes" she said. "I need to see the picture please." Once again, back to the camera. Oops, now she's moved on to singing to herself in the mirror again. She's very busy obviously. "I said YEAH," is apparently the name of this current song, because that is all she is saying. I think it's been carried on from the phone call where she asked to sit on my lap.

Now she's talking about the movie store.

Back to the "YEAH" song.

"Mom, I don't like cartoons, turn on Pinky Doo." "It's not on," I say. "I want to watch PINKY DOO!" Like if she repeats it over and over again and says it louder Comcast will hear her.

She's asked me to carry her to the couch, with the camera of course, but she's not done yet. She wants a pillow. I get the wrong one, it's a pink princess pillow with an iridescent crown. She wants me to put Livy in bed because she now wants to lay down on the green chair Olivia has finally collapsed onto. I get Olivia a blanket (because now, somehow, she's only wearing her Christmas underwear-she calls it that because it has snowflakes on it) and ignore Rebekah's requests to relocate her. She still doesn't like the cartoon, but it's apparently peaked her interest because she's been silent for a few minutes.

It's now 11:26.

"Can you turn on Ed and Eddy and carry me back to the couch?" She's holding her butt so I suggest a potty break and then carry her back to the couch.

"Mom, can you get me a pillow?" The princess pillow I brought her 10 minutes ago is on the floor. I go for Pooh Bear this time and get no complaints. I turn on Ed, Edd, and Eddy...and listen to her talk to the hamster. She's moved to the opposite side of the couch so her face is right next to his cage.

"Mom, I need a band-aid for my finger." It's 11:32 pm now. I don't know why, when, where or who--but I can assure you...it's NOT going to happen.

Once again, a few minutes of silence.

11:41. She's back. Explaining to me about the Ed, Edd, And Eddy episode she just watched. Something about a penguin, a helicopter, and flying far far away. She's found the paper she was ripping up earlier. Now she wants to color. She's upset that I'm not allowing that. "I want to color" she whines.

"You need to go to bed." "No, I want to color. I don't want to go to bed. I want Ed, Edd and Eddy again. Can I sleep in the chair?" "No," I say, " Olivia's in the chair." "I had the chair" she says. "I wanna lay down in the chair," she wails. Once again, repeating the phrase over and over again to emphasize her frustration. "Mom, I don't want the couch," she cries. Now the clothes are coming off again. "I don't want the couch!" This time more adamant. I get up threatening to paddle her and she runs to the couch screaming, holding her butt. I turn off the t.v. and sternly say, "It's time for bed." She runs into my room, throwing the door open. I get up from the computer and she runs, once again, for the couch...both hands protecting her little bottom. I tuck her blanket around her naked body and she is still continuing to scream, "I don't want to go to bed."

11:50 pm. She's standing outside my bedroom door, naked, screaming. "Mom, I want to watch t.v." she's saying. "Mom, I don't want to go to bed."

Where the heck is my husband! What a long day. Nothing a good night's sleep won't cure though. It's 11:52 now. Erik's not home yet, but I am exhausted.

11:57 pm. I get her dressed....AGAIN. "I wanna watch a movie." "OK," I say to pacify her, "daddy will put one in when he gets home." That's not good enough. She tried to do it herself. "Mom, it's stuck, " she announces. I put in Charlotte's Web. She said I yelled at her and made the hamster cry. I made him sad. I suspect that's not the case, but I am too tired to argue.

12:01 pm. "Mom, I love you. I love you. I love you," she says from the couch in the living room. "Now for the feature presentation" the t.v. declares.....the music starts.....I hear the garage door open and shut meaning Erik is finally home.

Good Night!

my cooking and housework, or lack thereof

I know, I know.....I already posted today. What can I say? My mind is filled with irrelevant thoughts!

As I was writing earlier I was "cooking." I'm not a "bad" cook mind you. I don't experiment much. I pretty much make the same stuff over and over and over again. If you are a lover of variety, I am not your chef. Lately though I have been so distracted by the kids even my old standbys are not turning out well at all!

Thursday I made goulash. Simple recipe. 1 package of whole grain elbow macaroni noodles, cooked according to package directions. 1 lb of ground chuck, fried into miniscule pieces (Erik hates "chunky" meat--although he likes his wife chunky...ok, ok, I know, inappropriate and silly- I couldn't help myself). ANYWAY, back to the goulash. I fry the hamburger with chopped green onion and vidalia onions. Sometimes add mushrooms. Season it with salt, pepper, Italian Seasoning and sometimes garlic powder. Sometimes minced onion instead of fresh (depending on how low my checkbook is). As I am doing this step I always think of my husband saying, "Season the meat" over and over again in my head. Now keep in mind, when we first started dating he didn't own a pan, nor did he know how to fry hamburger--but now, 8,000 pizza rolls later, he's Emeril Lagassé. Then I add a can of diced tomatoes to the hamburger/onion/green pepper mixture. You can get fancy here and add the diced tomatoes with garlic. After the diced tomatoes I add 1 jar of Prego and let it all heat up. And then I just wait for the noodles to finish, drain them, and stir them into the sauce mixture. Add some whole wheat garlic bread and I am good to go. I know this goulash recipe has had you at the edge of your seat, right? "What's your point" you say? My point is...this is EASY. Cooking 101. No glazes, flambay, or thermometers needed. Just your basic open the can and heat it up. But lately I get so distracted by the kids. I can't concentrate. I can't focus. I totally screwed it up. I did the sauce. It was fine. I did the noodles, they were great. Then, at the pivital moment I missed the exit. I didn't drain the noodles before I added them to the sauce and ended up with this bland, watery, tomato soupy mixture--with REALLY mushy noodles. YUCK!

AND tonight I made Chicken and Noodles. Stay with me now....I am going through the recipe. Thaw the boneless skinless chicken breasts. Check. Heat the oven up to 375ish. Check. Put chicken in 9 x 13 casserole dish. Check. Cover with one can of cream of mushroom soup, one can of cream of chicken soup, and 1/2 can of milk. Check. Cover with tinfoil and let cook for about an hour. Check. And yet, after doing this for the 1200th time, the chicken was dry and not cooked all the way. Meanwhile, on the burner....boil water. Check. Add one package of egg noodles. Check. And that's as far as I got. The water all boiled out and the noodles burned into one rubbery pile. "So," you say, "adapt." Of course, I thought that too. I am a grown up. I'll just make some whole grain brown Minute Rice. That will work. Heck, that's kind of where I got the recipe to begin with anyway. It was one of Erik's favorites so I got it from his mother. It starts out the same....chicken breasts, cream of mushroom soup, cream of chicken, milk, tinfoil. But, 10 minutes before it's done, you take the casserole dish out, add refrigerated biscuts to the top of the soupy mixture and let it cook until they get brown. Then you spoon it onto rice and you have Chicken and Biscuts (always served with green beans for some reason).

Then I stopped. Why? It's 9:30 at night by now. Clearly the kids aren't hungry. By now the undercooked chicken I put in the oven is REALLY dry and the soup has formed a dark brown frame around the inside of the casserole dish. Nobody cares. Besides, I have Oreo cookies, a frozen pizza, and a few corndogs that can be heated up in case of an emergency. Or a peanut butter and jelly sock 'em in the belly sandwich.

Fast forward. 9:45 pm. I go into the kitchen to make the usual. Time to get everyone ready for bed. Olivia wants apple juice. Ryan and Rebekah want chocolate milk. And when I turn the corner to the foyer, there is Olivia, scraping her finger around the inside of the casserole dish and licking the cream soup mixture. Asking for a bowl! I don't know if that means A. Even when I fail horribly I am still a good cook, or B. Olivia will eat anything. BUT I am guessing B is probably the best answer. So that is what she is doing now. Sitting in front of the tv butt naked (oh, scratch that. She finally did put on a sundress and a pair of underwear with snowflakes--she calls them her Christmas underwear), watching PeeWee's Playhouse on demand.

It's been a long night. Erik works Friday nights for the local paper during the football season so it's just been me. I thought about cleaning, but why? With all 4 kids at home it's like treading water....you can work for hours and not get anywhere. I did buy some paint today though. Lots of my friends have been painting their houses, so I thought I would give it a try. It's Labor Day weekend and we have no other plans. I bought a dark rich color called, "chocolate kiss" and picked up some curtains on clearance at Walmart. They are a brick red tapestry kind of pattern. It's kind of funny. We have this hideous, albeit comfortable, bright emerald green lazyboy rocker recliner that we got from a friend of Erik's mother's. It's never matched anything. It's always just been out of place. But alas, when I put up the curtains....it finally belonged! And we also have a couch and loveseat that has been with us since Erik's bachelor days (I shudder to think of the things they've seen). They are tan, and NASTY. They have been washed a thousand times. Erik got me some denim covers for them a few years back, but they aren't in great shape anymore either.... Anyway, when I put up the curtains, the couch and loveseat didn't look quite as hideous anymore either! My plan is to paint a few accent walls the dark brown color...because all the crayon and marker really stand out on the current matte white. Then I will pick a few of my favorite pictures, print them in black and white, frame them in black frames in white mats against the brown wall....and viola. Not so crappy. Then I just need to prime and spraypaint the coffee table and the beat up tv stand enamel black....add some baskets with black and white gingham print....and what do you know? We are on the next home tour. OK, maybe not. But not so crappy would be ok.

my legacy

Lately I have been plagued with an impending sense of death. Maybe it's just invaded my life too much lately. My friend's 7 year old son died in July, my father-in-law died in March, my stepgrandmother-in-law passed this month. Perhaps it's because I am getting to the age that I remember my dad being sick, and it's made me more cognizant of all of the near death situations he faced. I don't know. But it's really been laying on my mind. Right now the twins are 3 1/2, Ryan is 6, Chelsea just turned 12. How much of me could they possible remember if I didn't wake up tomorrow? And what would I want them to remember?

I have thought about making a box for each of them. Full of pictures. Little stories. Maybe a bottle of my favorite hand lotion (bath and body works brown sugar vanilla) to get their senses all attended to. But let's be honest....I'll never do that. If I had received a diagnosis of a terminal illiness I might make that a priority, but short of that...it will never happen. Which is sad, because most deaths don't give much forewarning, and all of that information in a cute little box made especially for them would be priceless if I were to go. But, in my defense, I do have this blog. It's not much, but it is an insight into who I am and how much I love them.

All of this though....the death issue, the box, what would they remember, had made me start to think. What would I want them to know? What have I learned that I would want to make sure they benefited from before reaching adulthood? They sound like easy questions, until you have to answer them, huh? You have to reach DEEP.

I guess the most important thing I would want them to know is that no matter how horrible and desperate a situation is, you don't have to look long to find something to be thankful for. Concentrate on that.

Also, separate what you have control over, and what only time can resolve--and don't waste time on the first one! My husband spends soooo much time getting stressed out over things that aren't important. Things he can't change. I feel badly that he wastes so much time, but in his defense, irregardless of how little control he has over a situation, he passionately is disturbed by it.

I guess the biggest lesson I have learned: Don't give anyone else your independence. Love someone because you want to...not because you need to. Never put yourself in a situation where you have no choices. Don't substitute someone else's judgement for your own, because they might not have your best interests at heart. They may have a motive. It might not be a conscious motive, but it may lead them to guide you into bad decisions nonetheless. Don't let a boyfriend/girlfriend choose your friends, or your job. Don't allow them to influence your relationships with your family. Keep control of your finances. I learned in my first marriage that loving someone doesn't mean revolving around them. A spouse can be the most important thing, without being the ONLY thing.

The last thing I want them to know about themselves is that the deserve a good life. If they go out to eat at an expensive restaurant and the food is cold, send it back...they deserve better. If they are in a relationship that causes more tears than laughs....re-think it, they deserve better. If they are spending 40 hours plus a week at a job they don't like...look into something else. Find a hobby, go back to school--don't settle for mediocrity. Life is too short and unpredictable to spend unhappy.

Now, in hindsight, after writing all that invaluable advice (hehe) I have to go back and read it....and see if I am following it. Yes. Reading back over it, I think I am. I am optomistic. I am independent (while still in a healthy relationship). AND, most importantly I am happy. I don't have a career, but I never wanted a career. I love the people I work with. I like being able to leave my work behind when I clock out at 4:30 pm. I adore my husband...he's funny, smart, loyal. He's stable. He's also independent. He's not very optomistic, but that's ok. Sometimes there is a fine line between optomistic and naive, and I need him to keep me grounded. The only thing that I have ever felt as though my life was missing was writing. And now, with this blog, I feel better. I feel as though my thoughts are being expressed. Granted, it's not the widely published novel I had fantasized about in the past. Truth be told, I doubt more than a handful of people even read it. But it's all I need. I have a great life.

the tooth fairy

Ryan- 6 years, 2 months (lost 1st tooth)

Ryan lost his first tooth. About a week ago he ran into my room excited and nervous because his “tooth was shaking.” He was really excited about it. I told him that he wasn’t allowed to lose it. And if he lost his tooth before his very first picture day I would glue it back in…but he wiggled it nonetheless. He lost it at school and was very excited when I picked him up at Nana and Papa’s that day. He had it wrapped in toilet paper and carried it carefully in a ziplock baggie. But then it wasn’t even talked about for the rest of the night…so needless to say the tooth fairy kind of “dropped the ball.” It wasn’t until the next day when he came grumbling out to the car that I realized what he was upset about. I brought him the dollar bill she left, and explained that she had put it on his t.v. so it wouldn’t get lost. It didn’t satisfy him though…he only got a dollar, and apparently Ben Ben got TWENTY FIVE CENTS! I've attached a picture of his new imperfect smile.

It reminded me a little bit of when Chelsea lost her first tooth. We put it on the dresser so it wouldn’t get lost and in the morning we saw what the toothfairy had done. It was a big tadoo with a card from the toothfairy congratulating her on doing such a great job brushing her teeth, and sugarfree gum, and $5. The next time she lost a tooth we put it under the pillow, as is custom, and she got a dollar. And then the third time, when it was time to leave the tooth again, she said she didn’t want to leave it under the pillow, she wanted to leave it on the dresser. Because when she left it on the dresser she got $5, gum and a card….but when she put it under the pillow she only got $1! Like there was a secret spot in the room that inspired the tooth fairy to be more generous! It was priceless.

pictures from my living room

secret friend

My MOMS group at church: Ana, Maria, Raechel, Angie, Melissa, Jenny, Jessica, and Lisa are doing a secret friend exchange and I decided to include my survey on my blog because I think that maybe it will be insightful to my personality? It’s a little more elaborate then the questionnaire I handed in, but here it is:

Date of birth: 09/22/1973

Husband: Erik and Date of marriage: 03/29/2003

Children’s names @ dob: Chelsea 08/24/1995; Ryan 06/08/2001; Olivia & Rebekah 02/13/2004

Favorite color: Green

Favorite restaurant: The Cheesecake Factory; The Melting Pot

Favorite food: Cheesecake; breaded tenderloins; pork BBQ; chocolate; vienna fingers; nutter butters; moist white cake with coconut frosting

Hobbies: Scrapbooking; reading; thinking about decorating, but never getting around to doing it; I would like to start gardening…have commited to doing it NEXT year, taking pictures. Very few of these hobbies do I actually DO mind you, but I would “like” to do them, when my children get a little older and independent and I get some of my life back.

Allergies: cats, dogs, feathers, dust mold, grass pollen, flowers

Biggest vice(s): cigarettes, casual attitude towards appearance, staying on top of housework, really BAD episodes of Maury Povich with paternity tests

Your Ideal vacation would be: a cruise to Alaska maybe; anywhere alone with my husband without the kids would be a vacation; L.A.-go see the Dr. Phil and Ellen Degeneres show…. Hawaii? Go to Macinaw Island, West Baden Springs, the Biltmore hotel, travel to New England when the leaves change color.

Something you’ve always wanted to do? Take a YOGA class, take another photography class, take a weekend trip alone with my husband to Brown County; Walk/Run/Train for a marathon

Your favorite music/ singer/ band? James Taylor, John Mayer, India.Arie, Frank Sinatra, Dean Martin, Jack Johnson —although I am forced lately to listen to A LOT of Hannah Montana...it's kinda growing on me.

Do you collect anything? I have dozens of teapots (which is funny ‘cause I’m not that much of a tea drinker); I also collect cookbooks (ok, that’s really an exaggeration. I like the Gooseberry Patch cookbooks. I have 2. Country Quick and Easy and One Pot Meals. I also have a few other random ones, aka. Pampered Chef, blah, blah, blah.) I don’t know if it’s really a collection or an “interest.”

Favorite kind of movie? Romantic comedies, suspense/mystery thrillers. I LOVE Napoleon Dynamite. Lately I have been into the Bourne Triology. There is something very ordinary and attractive about Matt Damon that I find alluring and irresistable.

Favorite Drinks? Cherry Coke Zero; Diet Pepsi

What is your favorite candy bar? Reese’s Sticks (although I can never find them anymore- I will have to find a new one). I don’t think there is a candy bar created though that I wouldn’t eat slowly and enjoy.

If you had 4 hours completely to yourself, no kids, no husband, no chores, no commitments…how would you spend that time? That’s a no-brainer….I would sleep.

Favorite Holiday: Halloween and Favorite time of year : Fall

What skill/talent of yours are you the most proud of: I am creative; I write and draw well; I think I am funny although I don’t know how much agreement I would get with that; I make friends easily.

What do you believe is your biggest flaw? I am a horrible listener, lol. I procrastinate a lot. I am really bad about trying to avoid conflict. I don’t have as much patience as I would like with my kids. I sing in the car loudly, like I have talent (much to the shigrin of my children.) Actually, until last year or so I would have told you that I actually can sing, but then, after being stuck in a car for hours upon countless hours I have re-thought that stance. I mean honestly, all of my kids sing their hearts out convinced that they have talent as well, and, not to be a Simon Cowell, but they are NOT the next American Idols. So perhaps I am not a gene abnormality, just in denial.

Who would you like to meet? President Clinton; Sylvia Browne; Matt Damon (see favorite movie section); Peyton Manning

What TV show do you NEVER EVER miss? Man vs. Wild; The Office; Survivor; Big Brother; Hell’s Kitchen; My Name is Earl; Amazing Race; Montel (when Sylvia Browne is on); All My Children; 48 Hours Mystery (any forensic stuff really); Dateline; It’s Always Sunny in Philadelphia

What are your pet peeves? People who send e-mails and forget to include the attachments (I do that ALL the time); holier than thou non-smokers; republicans; Elizabeth Hasselbeck from the View; people who cry ALL the time; children (just kidding)

If you could change one thing about your life what would it be? Your life, not you! I would be a writer going back to school part time to get a nursing degree. Each morning after I dropped my kids off at school I would go to Starbucks for a nice warm cup of tea and 30 minutes of book reading before I headed to the gym to work out a bit. I would have a much bigger house. A 6 bedroom ranch with a nice crisp pool. I would be my kid’s room mothers at school and bake them homemade cupcakes to send in on their birthdays. I would be a brownie leader. I would take them each on sporatic one on one trips to fun places (yes, more fun than even Walmart). I would have plastic tubs and tubs of decorations for every season and holiday and on Christmas I would have a bathroom filled with Santa’s and a living room filled with Snowmen. I would be more organized, with everything labeled and in it’s place. I would have date nights each week with my husband and at least 4 times I year we would go on weekends away. He would bring me coffee in bed each morning with 4 sugars and 4 creams…and get the kids dressed while I leisurely enjoyed the news. OK, ok. I guess I am rambling a bit.

Your husband’s most annoying habit? His negative attitude and “chicken little” sense of urgency; his tardiness; his snoring (and denial of snoring); using all his t-shirts as bibs; licking his plates clean…and teaching it to our kids. His non-affectionate nature? Does that sound right? He’s not very “huggy/touchy” and sometimes I REALLY need that.

Your favorite day of the week: Friday; because it is always payday!

What is the last book you read? Babyproof; it was ok.

What is your biggest fear? The death of any loved one.

If you could be reincarnated what would you come back as….and why? I would come back as a butterfly I guess. They just get to flitter and flutter and look happy and beautiful. They don’t have to work as hard as ants or bees. There is always a tree they can hide under if it rains or the sun shines too brightly. What would they possible have to worry about?

What do you believe was the most important decision you’ve made up to this point in your life? Boy, these questions are getting rough! See the irony there, I made the questions :) I think up until now the most important decision I have made is divorcing my first husband. I was very vulnerable at that time and it was an excruciatingly hard decision. I think I would of swore at the time that it was the beginning of the end, but in hindsight it was the best decision for not just me, but Chelsea as well. I learned after that experience that I don’t have to be dependent. That being alone doesn’t always mean being desperate, depressed, and pathetic.

another wake-up call

Today I am mad.

I want to scream, pout, and throw myself on the floor like my three year old until I pass out, or stop time. Isn’t that a visual?

I went to the dr. on Monday 8/13 for an “annual” visit. She pointed out to me that my blood pressure was “elevated.” She was very impressed that I weighed 40 lbs less than our exam last year….BUT, she was quick to tell me that my headaches, my hip pain, and world hunger, would all be resolved if I continued to lose weight. Well….to be honest with you….my plan was just to freakin’ stop. I was happy. I know….I was still over 200, but I was closer to 200 than 300 now, and I had reached that happy balance where I could still eat a little crap on a daily basis and buy clothes from regular merchants instead of having stuff custom made or online. To me this is her saying, “Chick, you are getting old, and if you don’t grow up and start taking care of yourself you are going to have to take medication every day for your much shorter, more painful, life. So put the Spunkmeyer muffin down and walk around the block.” Don’t get me wrong, I’m not mad at HER. Heck, she is probably pushing 300 or so herself…. I am mad at life. I am mad at having to be the grown up. I am mad that there has to be consequences. I am mad that I can’t eat those mini-vanilla sandwich cookies that Grandma (well, not my grandma…that sweet old lady that works at Kellogg) made for me and put in the vending machine RIGHT OUTSIDE MY DOOR. Taunting me….singing my name every so sweetly….. ”Cindy…..we’re waiting….” I am feeling guilty because my daughter is only 12 and I have clearly influenced her to follow my example, and I worry about how her future will be influenced by those choices. She won’t be a cheerleader? Will she date? Will she still participate in sports? Will she have friends? Will she become an outcast? Kids are cruel. I didn’t have to bear the brunt of it so much, because even though I felt like jabba the hut the most I ever weighed in high school was 150. She is already way above that. Will it prevent her from getting a job? Cause her health problems earlier than me? What is my role? Do I damage her self-esteem by encouraging her to change herself and set her up for a life time of “never being good enough?” Do I give her dirty looks and sigh every time she eats something that I don’t think is necessary?

And then there is the smoking. I LOVE SMOKING. I love taking time just for me. I love the way it tastes, I love the way it makes me feel. I love being a part of a small little “bad boy” group that society protests fervently against. I love that despite dedicating 98% of my life, time, thoughts, energy to being a mother—I have maintained one completely selfish outlet that serves no one but me. It’s like my last shred of independence and identity.

I know, reading back, that sounds absurd….but that’s how I feel. I feel as though most of my life is not my own. Most of my choices are already made for me before I get out of bed. I know what time I have to wake up and get ready. I know what kids I have to get dressed and carry to the car. I know what time I have to be at work. I know how fast I need to type. I know what food choices I have to pick from to make dinner that night (something easy, because I will be tired, but balanced….and something for Ryan.) I know which kid will ask to watch Ed, Edd, and Eddy at 9:30 pm….Ryan. I know which kid will fight bedtime and sneak back into the living room to watch TV with her brother….Bekah. I know who wants Apple Juice, Chocolate Milk, and Dad’s pop (diet mountain dew)….Olivia, Bekah, and Ryan. Aside from smoking, and choosing my food, the only control I feel as though I have sometimes is picking out my clothes in the morning. Everything else is already decided for me, or controlled by someone else (a.k.a. one of my kids). SO, when someone tells me that I have to stop smoking, it makes me mad. I feel as though they are telling me that I am not even entitled to that one little thing, and in order to be a “good mother” I need to check that 2% I had been holding in a death grip at the door as well. I have to sacrifice everything in me and just live vicariously through serving the children’s wants, needs, and whims. It’s a little childish rebellion I guess. I need to just suck it up and get over it. Quitting needs to be done. I know this. I need to substitute it for something else. But what? I’m not supposed to eat, I can’t drown my stress in Jell-O Pudding’ Pops or Nestlé Drumsticks. I have too many kids and not enough time to take up Origami. I don’t have enough money to start a shopping addiction. I suppose I could start exercising, reluctantly. Kill two birds with one stone. But that will take some time as well. First I have to convince myself that I LIKE exercising, and then I have to trick my mind into thinking that I am looking forward to it, and, finally, I have to find time to do it. There is time. It’s much, much easier to find 100 excuses NOT to do it, I’ve got that down to about 2 minutes even…but this whole “walking” crap is at least 30 minutes each day. I know, I know….If I “loved” myself I would make it a commitment, because it’s good for me….good for my soul. My soul is tired. Being a mother, a co-worker, a daughter, a wife—it’s a hard job, it wears me out…and at the end of the day the only thing I want to do is just put in my ear plugs and drift away. Not put on my jogging shoes and walk briskly around the block in 98 degree stagnant heat.

health, smoking, weight, blood pressure

a conversation at the pool

Erik brought all the kids to the pool on Sunday and he told me this conversation the twins (Olivia and Rebekah, 3 1/2 years) had....

Rebekah to little girl: I like your Princess Ella swimsoup (Cinderella swimsuit)
Olivia to little girl's mom: Where did you buy that?

first day of school

Ryan starts kindergarten today. His teacher's name is Ms. Dahlke. She seems very nice. 13 years experience. Very pretty, exotic asian features. Probably a size 2 after a HUGE meal. It makes me sad. I don't want him to give HER a marry ring too! I was willing to share my proposal with Nana but that is enough! I know, it's pathetic, I treat this teacher like the "other" woman. But she is! She's taking my baby away. She is going to be spending more time with him than me. She is going to teach him to read, so he won't need me to tell him the directions on his playstation games anymore. He's already taking showers! He doesn't need "mom" to wash his hair anymore. He can make a hotdog by himself in the microwave. He's stopped playing with "piggies" as much.....he's just growing up before my eyes and it makes me sad :-( As soon as he learns to make chocolate milk by himself and do his laundry he will have no use for me anymore :-(

Erik made me laugh. Ryan has kind of made up his own "sign language." Milk in ASL is taking your fist with the thumb up and squeezing, kind of like you are milking a cow. Ryan only drinks chocolate milk, so his "sign" for that is to also take his other fist with the thumb pointing down, place it on top of the first, and squeeze it too....in unison with the bottom one. To respresent the chocolate syrup being squeezed on the milk. We just take it for granted I guess, because he does it all the time. Every night he comes up to me squeezing both hands and I know....he wants chocolate milk. Erik said the other day, "I wonder what the lunch lady is going to say when Ryan goes up to her and asks for chocolate milk with his hands, lol!"

The girls are very sad that they aren't starting school. Well, more Bekah than Livy. She walks around talking all the time about her "cool" (school). She said that she needs a "pack pack" (backpack). She called nana the other day and told her that she needed to find her "flippers" (ballet slippers) because she would need them on her first day. I went ahead and bought both her and Livy folders with kittens on them to bring to Nana's house and told her that Papa would be her teacher. She's started calling him "Mr. Papa. " I don't know if she's going to buy it, but it's distracted her a bit.

I picked him up this afternoon. Erik said he told him he had, "the best day of his life." I don't know if I believe that....he's had quite a few great days with me! Anyway...this is the conversation we had in the car after I picked him up on the first day:

MOM: Do you have any friends?
RYAN: Yeah, one boy.
MOM: What's his name?
RYAN: I don't know his name, he speaks Spanish. Only
once. I don't know
how to speak Spanish.
MOM: Did you ask him?
RYAN: Yeah, he said Spanish.
MOM: Is that little boy your friend?
RYAN: Yeah
MOM: How do you
know?
RYAN: He told me it. The boy just made a friend with me, duh. I didn't
make a
friend with him.
MOM: So he's not your friend?
RYAN: Yeah.
MOM: He is your friend?
RYAN: No.
MOM: Why not?
RYAN: I don't
take crying people for my friend.
MOM: Did he cry.
RYAN: Yeah, he cried
two times.

He also learned a song about the library. It was cute. He brought his Buzz Lightyear lunchbox to school....Papa made his
lunch....peanut butter and jelly sock 'em in the belly, goldfish, cookies
and
chocolate milk. He said they had yummy muffins for breakfast, and the
cafeteria
sells chocolate milk, so that was good. When he got home he had a
HUGE
breakdown, but it's expected I think, he had a BIG
day!

Today is Nana's 61st birthday so we will have having
cake and ice cream soon and heading home.

our new pet

Well, so far Ryan has caught a cricket, a lightening bug, and a caterpillar this summer to be his pet....his best friends. The cricket got dumped in the car (he may still be there, eating cold french fries that fell under the car seat...), the lightening bug died in a tragic container lid incident, and the caterpillar is petrified in the jar it came home in.....in hopes that it's just "hibernating." I know, it's disgusting, I plan on throwing it away when he stops checking on it.... SO, FINALLY, we gave in and got him a real pet. We are allergic to everything in this house, so we settled on a hamster. Of course Ryan got the one with the beady red eyes....the only one we weren't excited about....but it seems to be working out well. It doesn't make much of a mess, stays to itself, climbs around and nibbles on their hands when we let it make an appearance. I put it in the ball tonight when Erik brought the kids to practice in hopes that it could roll around a little bit in peace. BUT ALAS, it tried to make a break for it! I went to get the camera and the ball was on the floor, with the lid 10 inches away, and Buzz (or Dash, or Buddy, or whatever it's name is) was trying to crawl under the closet door in the foyer! That was a CLOSE call! Ryan would have never forgiven me! Anyway, here is the picture you have all been waiting for....

a mother's autumn prayer

I am sorry….I have been really lonely lately. There is a lot going on that I really can’t get into, and unfortunately I can’t talk to my husband about it either. It just leaves me in a lonely, scary place. Fall is always a rough time for me. Ironically it’s my favorite time of year…..but financially it’s difficult, with football season it’s difficult, everyone starting school, never seeing my husband, keeping up on housework, work picks up. It just becomes an impossible juggling act that physically and emotionally drains me. I usually don’t get to leave to house much of my own free will from August thru December. If you see me in the next few months at Wal-Mart, or on the way to or from a football game or cheerleading practice, and I have on worn out sweatpants, a stained t-shirt, crazy hair, and a blank stare on my face….don’t take in personally. My spirit will be back in January. Sometimes I think my soul kind of leaves my body and takes a vacation until everything calms down and the holidays are over, just to keep my sanity from going over the edge, you know?

I know I have a lot to be thankful for, so don’t waste a lot of time……but if you have a few extra seconds say a prayer for me. I just need a little more patience and strength; I have a lot on my plate.

prayer

kindergarten

Ryan starts all day kindergarten on Monday.

Last week we went to Kohl’s and he got to pick out his first book bag. It’s Spiderman, and it comes with a mini-skateboard that attaches itself with a strap to the front. He thinks it’s very cool. At first he was leaning towards the “Buzz Lightyear” one but it had wheels and that wasn’t allowed. He is keeping his Buzz Lightyear lunchbox from preschool last year. He is such a picky eater I don’t know if he’s going to be eating in the cafeteria this year. They offer free breakfast at his school and they bring it to his classroom in a crate….juice, milk, and a muffin or whatever. They can eat one or all of the selection. Hopefully if he sits down and sees the other kids eating he might try some new things too. But lunch, I don’t know. He’s pretty particular. He has invented his own “sign language” of sorts for different things. Milk in ASL is taking the left hand, making a fist, and squeezing it….like milking a cow. So, since Ryan always wants chocolate milk, he created a new sign. It starts out the same, with the left fist squeezing, but then he added a right fist squeezing over the top of the left fist (to represent the bottle of chocolate syrup being squeezed into his sippy cup). Of course to our family this has become common knowledge, but Erik the other day said, “I wonder how the lunch lady is going to react the first day Ryan walks up to her and uses his hands to ask for chocolate milk?!?!?!?!?!”

His teacher’s name is Ms. Dahlke. She seems very nice. 13 years experience. Very pretty, probably a size 2 after a HUGE meal. She has some erotic Asian features, dark thick black hair, a “cute” personality that I am sure lures 5 and 6 year old boys into adoring her. It makes me sad. I don’t want him to give HER a marry ring too! It took a lot of time for me to adjust to sharing my proposal with Nana. I know, it’s pathetic; I treat this teacher like the “other” woman. But she is! I don’t want to share Ryan! She’s taking my baby away. She is going to be spending more time with him than me. She is going to teach him to read, so he won’t need me to tell him the directions on his play station games or read his birthday cards to him anymore. He’s already taking showers! Well, not your typical showers. He still sits down in that bathtub and plays with toys; he just does it under a raining shower head instead of sitting in a bath. He doesn’t need “mom” to wash his hair anymore. He can make a hotdog by himself in the microwave. He’s stopped playing with “piggies” as much…..he’s just growing up before my eyes and it makes me sad. As soon as he learns to make chocolate milk by himself and do his laundry he will have no use for me anymore L He’ll have jokes that I don’t understand. He will have friends that I’ve never met. He’ll learn words that I haven’t taught him (some good/some bad). He’ll have a whole myriad of experiences that will help to mold and shape him into the person he’s going to become, and my influence will become only one of many.

Tonight I have to plug in my camera and download all my pictures so that I will have room to take all the pictures I need for posterity’s sake on Monday. Pictures of him in front of the school sign, with his beautiful teacher. I don’t remember this being so difficult with Chelsea. Probably because she came out of the womb so independent. I wonder if it is going to be so difficult with the twins. I way over bought clothes for Ryan, but I want him to be cool. I want everyone to like him. I want him to enjoy school……….I will just miss him. Oh my god, I am already crying like a baby and it’s not for 3 more “sleeps.” (Sleeps= nights before something). I remember talking to mothers and thinking how embarrassing and upsurd it was for them to cry when their kids start school. What’s the big deal? Now I know. After Monday I will have to start preparing myself for the first “sleepover” I imagine. It’s good for me to write all of this down though, in 9 years when he’s 15, starting his freshman year I will be obsessing about the drama of puberty and a driver’s permit…..and these thoughts will all be a memory.

The girls are very upset that they aren’t starting school. Well, more Bekah than Livy. She walks around talking all the time about her “cool” (school). She said that she needs a “pack pack” (backpack). She called nana the other day and told her that she needed to find her “flippers” (ballet slippers) because she would need them on her first day. I went ahead and bought both her and Livy folders with kittens on them to bring to Nana’s house and told her that Papa would be her teacher. She’s started calling him “Mr. Papa. “ I don’t know if she’s going to buy it, but it’s distracted her a bit. Maybe I can print them out some color sheets with different letters and colors to keep in their folders.

Chelsea is ready for school too. I found a lot of bras on clearance at JcPenney’s the other day, so that was great. She still needs some underwear I imagine, but other than that I think she has enough to get started. I don’t remember my mom ever buying me bras. I guess she probably had too, but I don’t remember it. I had two older sisters so maybe I just got hand me downs. I know for a fact I didn’t get a special shopping trip every fall just for “school clothes.” I got $100 for my birthday in September and she let me use that towards school clothes. I guess that made me lucky, because my little sister’s birthday was in March. I was always so jealous of those kids whose first 2 weeks was a fashion show. Walking in on their first day with new backpacks, pencils with no teeth marks, flawless pink pearl erasers. Their confidence and excitement radiated so much it almost distracted from their blinding white shoes. I remember one year being sent to school with just a pencil…..my mom said I wouldn’t need anymore than that the first day. I am sure I probably got more supplies later, after the next payday, but the first day a pencil was all I had. She was probably right. We probably didn’t reach into our desks for anything else that first day; or if we did I just borrowed from my friend, but I never forgot that. Maybe that’s why I am so zealous about school supplies. I have a whole tote of extras. I buy for my little sister’s daughters. Whenever there is a sale for 5 cents, or 15 cents, I grab whatever the limit is….crayons, paper, pencils, pens, rulers, hole punchers…..whatever. Sort it out later. Don’t get me wrong, I am not upset with my parents or feeling sorry for myself. It just was what it was. I think I of course have a much better understanding of poverty now that I have 4 children myself. Enough of an understanding to know how lucky WE were as kids, and how lucky I am now. Heck, the school fees alone here in the State of Indiana are horrible. Chelsea and Ryan’s were a hundred dollars each before they walked in the door….and if Chelsea still wants to be in band somehow I have to come up with $125 for her Tuba mouthpiece, music stand, and instruction book. I imagine when Olivia and Rebekah start kindergarten, Ryan starts third grade, and Chelsea starts high school, we will have to take out a small loan! It will be like Christmas in August. And then the winter coats! And Halloween costumes! And Christmas! Anyway, I am sure even with Chelsea’s new shoes, new bras, new t-shirts and capri’s she will still look around and be jealous of the kids with brand name stuff on. It’s just the hierarchy of pre-teen girls.

ryan, dahlke, first day of school, kindergarten, school, money, school supplies, sign language

brave?

Now that I have started to write in this blog….and transfer stuff I have already written into it, I am starting to become nervous. The biggest question in my mind is, how much do I reveal? I know that I have been able to just put in a person’s name and essentially look up their “diary.” Should I use this as a forum to discuss my thoughts towards my husband, my children, my job, God? Should I open those thoughts up to anyone who enters my name on a search engine? Should I let the public at large into my mind, my heart, and my soul? I enjoy reading everyone else’s innermost thoughts, and have no anxieties about it. But I don’t know. I have two friends whose relationships have been fundamentally changed because of views that they thought they shared were shattered at 2 a.m. on a Sunday night while one person was “browsing.” Do I tell my husband? Do I open up that part of myself? The only part that is still mine? AND, if I do tell my husband, or friends, is that going to alter what I write? Will I “rephrase” and second guess my entries if I know that my loved ones are going to log on and see the behind-the-scenes thoughts behind my eye rolls and sighs of exhaustion. Do I really want to have an argument and defend every little thought that races through my head? Do I want to jot down all my ideas and thoughts as they come, or do I want to strategically write what will make me look good and avoid conflict? Do I trust people to really get to know me that well? Heck, just writing this makes me a little nervous! I didn’t realize how closed off and secretive I must be, to be this nervous and concerned about being so “exposed.” I also didn’t realize how brave and courageous all those other bloggers are…exposing themselves that way. Maybe I’m not that brave….

yet another accident...

Ok....so I am not exactly sure how this happened. I was in the bathroom at the time. Livy came running into the bathroom with her nose bleeding saying she hit the couch....hard. Apparently they were playing the age old, "Monster under the rubbermaid tote." You know the one. Ryan hides under the empty rubbermaid tote, Olivia sits on top, Ryan rises up, she slides off..... They used to play it all the time (it's on hiatis after this recent incident). Anywhoo....Apparently Olivia did a nose plant into the arm of the couch. I tossed around bringing her to the ER.....AGAIN. But, in the last 3 1/2 years of her exsistance she has had her head glued together once (fell off a chair in the kitchen and cracked it on the leg of the chair), her face next to her eye stitched together once (fell off the bed at nana's house), lost a couple of fingernails (doors, enough said), stuck a chewable claritin into her nose to dissolve (that was a fun day! You should have seen the moms at the ball park looking at my kid with the purple goo dissolving out of her nose. She might as well had leprosy, like it's never happened to them or something, lol)....and my mom wisely noted that at some point the hospitals will have to call the authorities, lol. In my defense, I have 3 other children that have never had wounds that required medical attention....but OLIVIA! OMG! She is just an accident waiting to happen. I don't know if it's cause she's a tomboy roughneck that likes to keep up with her brother, or naiive about cause and effect, or just plain clumsy--but it has become I real challenge to just get her to adulthood without any major scarring!

e-mails

Here are some emails that a couple of girlfriends and I sent back and forth today, I put a lot of thought into my responses and think that A) it says a lot about me and my state of mind right now, and B) might be helpful for myself to look back on someday when I need that advice!

To Angie re: having a bad day

I am so sorry that you had such a bad day. Some days are just like that! I had a yucky day too. I just cried and cried and cried off and on all day. Anyway, I started my period, I have only $16.42 in my checking account until Friday (I couldn’t even get a drink at Starbucks, I had to get all parched and then suck down the warm diet cherry coke I had left in the car when we were done at yoga last night—although of course I didn’t tell ANYONE that!). The little light on my gas tank came on when I pulled into work, so I am going to have to use most of that $16 to get some gas to keep me going until Friday morning. I had some leftover pizza when I got back last night, only to discover that Chelsea had broken a glass on the counter earlier that evening and the secret topping in my pizza wasn’t really hard/gritty onion, but instead shards of glass, lol. I suspect she is trying to kill me, hehe. I guess she didn’t succeed, because I haven’t had any side effects as of yet……..btw, if you happen to run into a dr. today at work ask if small pieces of glass can slowly kill you or rip apart your intestine, lol. And I guess tonight I will have to write a bad check to Hungry Howies (because I have no food and they take DAYS to process their checks). OR, go to Kroger, buy some groceries, and write the bad check for $20 over the amount so I can have some gas money too…..Kroger takes about 3 days too, so I MIGHT just get away with it.

Hope you have a better day today!

Have faith in yourself, you know what’s best for your son. You are a great mom.

Be nice to your husband [a police officer] (I like him, and he carries a gun, lol).

Men are jerks sometimes. I mean, we mothers can’t be perfect ALL the time for goodness sakes! Even God took off the seventh day! It always amazes me how Erik never notices me juggling 1200 balls effortlessly, but is so quick to stop the world from rotating on its axis if God forbid one hits the floor. Don’t let your husband make you feel bad for dropping the ball….make a point to recognize all the great things you accomplished this week, heck….even just today.

But seriously, time will fix all of these problems. Just “keep swimming.”

To Melissa re: Happy Birthday

The kids are doing fine. Chelsea has registration tonight. She is just “itching” to buy all her school supplies and stuff. We can’t even start until we know what class she is in because each room is so freakin’ specific. Sometimes it makes me wonder if they are all teaching the same curriculum. How come one needs a protractor and the other needs a disposable camera? Ryan has a “meet the teacher” on August 8^th. It’s not for the kids though, just for the parents. I have to bring in his school supplies and stuff (which is good because they have to bring in SOOO much stuff-I didn’t want to send it all in on that first day). I went with him the other day and let him pick out his backpack. He got a Spiderman one with a mini-skateboard. What a little man! The other day I brought him and and his cousin to Burger King and to see Ratatouille (great movie by the way-Finding Nemo good) and I stopped at Target to get their pics taken—my little men, getting ready to start kindergarten! They are so cute! Flexing their muscles and stuff.

Chelsea, well…..she’s just Chelsea. Drama. Drama. Drama. Sometimes I think her entire world is a stage and her family is just the inadequate understudies she got stuck with. It’s as though she has some invisible script that no one else can see…..and we just keep have to keep doing the same scene over and over and over again until we get the lines right and complete it to her satisfaction! The arguments are so ridiculous, and redundant. Usually it’s her attitude and tone, which of course is a gray area that pre-teens like to exploit. I can’t PROVE that she rolled her eyes, so in her mind she can’t be called out for it. I think it will be a close race in the end….her graduating from high school alive, and me keeping my sanity. I just hope there is enough left to struggle my way through the other three’s adolescence.

HAPPY HAPPY BIRTHDAY! Mine is coming up September 22^nd. I pretty much have put it on the calendar as being a sucky day. It’s not as though anything catastrophic happens to make it horrible, but any not so great thing is WAY exaggerated when it happens on your birthday. That is the day you were born. The day the world changed. There should be parades, ballads, sonnets for Christ’s sake! People should be reflecting on how your birth changed their lives (the world at large) and singing your praises. They should be thanking you, honoring you. It should be the one day a year when you are not taken for granted-----BUT, it’s not. And it won’t be. Probably ever. Put it on your calendar as just another day, cause truth be told…..your kids (and maybe even your husband), they aren’t thinking about the enormous ramifications of your birth and how thankful they should be that you came into their lives—they are just wanting cake! And probably, in your husband’s case, sex. You have to make this day special, if not “today” then some day soon. Do something for yourself. Ask your mom to watch the kids at your house and go to hers to take a nap. Call a friend, ahem, and schedule a movie. Meet someone at the Cheesecake Factory for some well needed sugar. Or do all three. Honor yourself. Reward yourself. Be proud of yourself. You’ve accomplished a lot these last 6 years Melissa, and you are working hard to make some big changes in the future—for yourself and your family. They will be proud of you for that someday, but you owe it to yourself to be proud today. Just make a decision that no matter what you are going to take a deep breath and be happy today….I mean look at all you have to look forward too….cake AND sex, lol.

NOW---Go get your cake on girlfriend.

angie, melissa, chelsea, ryan, birthday