The crisp air of fall has arrived and unfortunately I have upped my caffeine consumption to dangerous levels at which a breastfeeding mother should not be (don't judge me! I fully abstained with the first two children and look where THAT got me!), but Little One seems to be thriving and sleeps more than the other two did at this age. She is almost sleeping through the night- one of the things for which I am eternally grateful!
So fall is here and the Holiday Season has begun. I have eaten more than my fair share of the children's Halloween candy and should probably throw it away before the next round of treats and candy comes through for Christmas and I end up in April with bags and piles and start throwing things away in a fit of rage at myself because in order to save the children from the candy, I end up consuming it when I definitely should NOT. A bite here and there, but I'm feeling like Elaine from Seinfeld when she starts jonesing for sugar in the afternoons because of all the office parties at work... that's me, but all day long because I know there is a massive bag of chocolate here. Where did the will power go? Out the window with my Before-Children body.
Which leads me to the things for which I am eternally grateful...
My ever patient and kind husband who, for the most part, thinks my view on things and my antics are amusing. Every encouraging and I hear at least once a day, "Oh my GOSH, Jenn! Where do you come up with this craziness!?" and "I hope you are writing all this down..." Such a wonderful man and I could not breathe without him.
Three beautiful, happy, and healthy children who, while it drives me completely batty, refuse to go to bed and wake up at ridiculous hours because, in my opinion, they are so bursting with life, sleep and rest cannot contain their energies!
Family and friends who support us and love us and forgive us all our short-comings and laugh along with us as we maneuver through our journey,
I could go on, but the kids have been up for the past hour and a half and I am hearing thumpings and bumpings and I believe the semi-peacefulness of the morning has come to end. Off I must go to reign things back in,,,
Tuesday, November 15, 2011
Monday, October 17, 2011
Just Admit It...
I truly believe that there are things we all do that we just don't talk about or would admit unless we were all joking around with a few of our closest friends. Or some things we deny even to ourselves and our spouses. I know there are little things that I hide... or at least used to try to... Come on, you know you do it, too...
-flip over couch cushions when there is an undesirable spot and hope that another one doesn't occur on the freshest side. Because that would mean you would REALLY have to clean it and not just spot clean.
-sniff clothes that we are uncertain about and as long as they don't smell bad, they go back into the drawer.
-sometimes when there is just NO TIME for a shower, wash up at the sink with a washcloth and pretend that you are one of the "normal" people who get a shower and do their hair perfect every morning.
-as gross as it is and as much as you swore up and down you would NEVER do it to your kids, but you KNOW you have licked your finger to wipe spots off your child's face. We don't ALWAYS have wipes and tissues handy at our disposal...
-when faced with an ill-packed diaper bag and find yourself without wipes or diapers, you know you've used paper towels dampened with water and have cleaned out the diaper as best you could and put it back on... just to make it back home for a fresh one, of course!!!
-eat a spoonful (or spoonfuls) of frosting when you think that no one is watching.
-eat a treat when no one is home and then when everyone is home you join them when they have one as if it's the only one you've had.
-shared a piece of chewed gum when you needed a breath freshener and your spouse had already popped the last piece into his mouth.
-gotten sick and tired of changing your bed sheets when an infant has spit up on them so you've laid a towel over the spot so you could just go back to sleep. And you know you've also done that with a burp cloth in their crib on the spit up spots in there, also.
-splashed water all over the front of you and pretended you had an accident with the water when you realized that your breasts leaked all over the front of your shirt.
-sat in something wet on purpose in attempt to cover up the fact that you've laughed so hard you wet your pants.
-lied to the doctor about not having had fed peanut butter, eggs, citrus or other such foods to your child when you've given it to them before the doctor approved age.
-skipped meals and all hydrating beverages before a doctor visit because you know you have to step on the scale in front of the skinniest nurse EVER!
-lied about how much weight you gained during pregnancy and embellished how much you lost afterwards!
-eat the kids' food when you are feeding them and then have another dinner later with your husband like you didn't get dinner yet.
-refuse to shop at certain stores where the sizes are not kind and tell yourself it's the style, money, etc. Anything else but the fact that you do NOT want to admit that you fit into THAT size.
...See! We are NOT all perfect and we all have things that we do and don't tell or try to hide, but would life be a funnier and freer place if we just set aside our pretenses. Come on, what are some things YOU hide?
-flip over couch cushions when there is an undesirable spot and hope that another one doesn't occur on the freshest side. Because that would mean you would REALLY have to clean it and not just spot clean.
-sniff clothes that we are uncertain about and as long as they don't smell bad, they go back into the drawer.
-sometimes when there is just NO TIME for a shower, wash up at the sink with a washcloth and pretend that you are one of the "normal" people who get a shower and do their hair perfect every morning.
-as gross as it is and as much as you swore up and down you would NEVER do it to your kids, but you KNOW you have licked your finger to wipe spots off your child's face. We don't ALWAYS have wipes and tissues handy at our disposal...
-when faced with an ill-packed diaper bag and find yourself without wipes or diapers, you know you've used paper towels dampened with water and have cleaned out the diaper as best you could and put it back on... just to make it back home for a fresh one, of course!!!
-eat a spoonful (or spoonfuls) of frosting when you think that no one is watching.
-eat a treat when no one is home and then when everyone is home you join them when they have one as if it's the only one you've had.
-shared a piece of chewed gum when you needed a breath freshener and your spouse had already popped the last piece into his mouth.
-gotten sick and tired of changing your bed sheets when an infant has spit up on them so you've laid a towel over the spot so you could just go back to sleep. And you know you've also done that with a burp cloth in their crib on the spit up spots in there, also.
-splashed water all over the front of you and pretended you had an accident with the water when you realized that your breasts leaked all over the front of your shirt.
-sat in something wet on purpose in attempt to cover up the fact that you've laughed so hard you wet your pants.
-lied to the doctor about not having had fed peanut butter, eggs, citrus or other such foods to your child when you've given it to them before the doctor approved age.
-skipped meals and all hydrating beverages before a doctor visit because you know you have to step on the scale in front of the skinniest nurse EVER!
-lied about how much weight you gained during pregnancy and embellished how much you lost afterwards!
-eat the kids' food when you are feeding them and then have another dinner later with your husband like you didn't get dinner yet.
-refuse to shop at certain stores where the sizes are not kind and tell yourself it's the style, money, etc. Anything else but the fact that you do NOT want to admit that you fit into THAT size.
...See! We are NOT all perfect and we all have things that we do and don't tell or try to hide, but would life be a funnier and freer place if we just set aside our pretenses. Come on, what are some things YOU hide?
Monday, October 10, 2011
Incoherent Thoughts
I literally just gulped down half a bowl/mug of lukewarm coffee in order to clear my head quickly and take a moment for myself as I have been up off and on since about 12:45am. First it was a feeding, then my son, then baby fussiness, then my son, another baby feeding and so on until my daughter who was the kindest in the night and stayed put, but threw a massive hissy fit at 6:30 because she instantly wanted to begin all the projects I said we could do today... All this before my first sip of coffee. Irritation and Mommyhood is not a good combo, so here I sit taking a moment as they play (sort of) quietly in their rooms (and by "rooms" I mean that they aren't really listening and are wandering in and out). Whatever. The baby is asleep for the moment and I had some coffee and here I sit for a brief Mommy Moment... And cue the whimpering baby.
...I find it funny that the last post I made was mere hours before I FINALLY went into labor and gave birth. She is such a precious little doll (as are all of my children... when they aren't annoying the you-know-what out of me, anyway) and while we raved and ranted on and on about how good of a baby she was, she has for the past few nights proven to make a liar out of me. Let's hope this does NOT continue. And cue crying baby and a slew of random questions from the 5-year old.
And now after the diaper change and a few rounds and "I gotta tell sumfin' you" from my 3-year old, I have absolutely no idea what the point of all of this was. I will post it anyway, however just to give all a glimpse into the sad brain cell deterioration that occurs with constant sleep deprivation, answering inane nonsensical questions, and the ever present fumes of poopy diapers.
I hope there is more coffee left in the pot. I am going to need it.
...I find it funny that the last post I made was mere hours before I FINALLY went into labor and gave birth. She is such a precious little doll (as are all of my children... when they aren't annoying the you-know-what out of me, anyway) and while we raved and ranted on and on about how good of a baby she was, she has for the past few nights proven to make a liar out of me. Let's hope this does NOT continue. And cue crying baby and a slew of random questions from the 5-year old.
And now after the diaper change and a few rounds and "I gotta tell sumfin' you" from my 3-year old, I have absolutely no idea what the point of all of this was. I will post it anyway, however just to give all a glimpse into the sad brain cell deterioration that occurs with constant sleep deprivation, answering inane nonsensical questions, and the ever present fumes of poopy diapers.
I hope there is more coffee left in the pot. I am going to need it.
Saturday, September 3, 2011
Waiting for Baby
I'm not a person who is generally late. I even have a number of friends who tease me about my proclivity for being slightly, maybe a tad, too early sometimes. I just hate being late. I hate making others wait for me. It's just one of my things. I don't think my new-coming daughter will have this same trait as her Momma. She seems to be working on her own schedule and likes things fashionably late. I don't see anything fashionable about being late, but that's just me. She's just playing games with me now and I have a list that I am working on that I will definitely have to share with her on her eighteenth birthday to embarrass her.
Funny things that happen when Baby makes Momma wait:
I have officially come down to three shirts, two pairs of yoga pants and one long black jersey dress. That is all my belly will fit into.
I have packed and had to unpack my hospital bag and do laundry for my clothes rotation four times in the past week or so because I've need of the things in the bag. I am officially overdue and my bag has a flat iron and a hoodie in it. Ready? Not quite.
Four days ago I experienced FINALLY consistent contractions so much so that I could time them and they were coming out to being six minutes apart or thereabouts and I was sure this was IT, so, me being me, I went about making these yummy lemon squares through it all so that in the event that I went to the hospital quickly or in the night when nothing was open, I wouldn't show up empty handed to the hard working nurses who tend to the laboring and delivering women (we all know the doctor only shows up at the last minute)! It's just one of our things to bring treats. Well, they've been in the fridge and I've had to buy other ingredients to throw something else together last minute because, while they are still good, I am NOT bringing in four day old refrigerated lemon squares. We can eat those!
My husband has also had to install and subsequently remove the infant carrier from the car for a number of different reasons this past month to accommodate other passengers, etc. Well, it's in to stay now, but if she were HERE already it wouldn't have had to come in and out so many times.
I've had to clean the pack n' play three times just to be sure it won't be dusty for her when she comes home.
That's all I can think of for now and I am about to get up and do a load of laundry and try to organize yet another bag packing episode, just in case perhaps, could I be so lucky that today might be the day?
Funny things that happen when Baby makes Momma wait:
I have officially come down to three shirts, two pairs of yoga pants and one long black jersey dress. That is all my belly will fit into.
I have packed and had to unpack my hospital bag and do laundry for my clothes rotation four times in the past week or so because I've need of the things in the bag. I am officially overdue and my bag has a flat iron and a hoodie in it. Ready? Not quite.
Four days ago I experienced FINALLY consistent contractions so much so that I could time them and they were coming out to being six minutes apart or thereabouts and I was sure this was IT, so, me being me, I went about making these yummy lemon squares through it all so that in the event that I went to the hospital quickly or in the night when nothing was open, I wouldn't show up empty handed to the hard working nurses who tend to the laboring and delivering women (we all know the doctor only shows up at the last minute)! It's just one of our things to bring treats. Well, they've been in the fridge and I've had to buy other ingredients to throw something else together last minute because, while they are still good, I am NOT bringing in four day old refrigerated lemon squares. We can eat those!
My husband has also had to install and subsequently remove the infant carrier from the car for a number of different reasons this past month to accommodate other passengers, etc. Well, it's in to stay now, but if she were HERE already it wouldn't have had to come in and out so many times.
I've had to clean the pack n' play three times just to be sure it won't be dusty for her when she comes home.
That's all I can think of for now and I am about to get up and do a load of laundry and try to organize yet another bag packing episode, just in case perhaps, could I be so lucky that today might be the day?
Wednesday, July 20, 2011
35 Weeks and Counting
I do this all the time. I don't intend to, and I can honestly say that I do begin projects in a timely manner, but the problem is that I tend to overestimate how fast i can get things done and I underestimate the time it just might take. This doesn't help in general, but it seriously poses a problem during pregnancy because the more needs to get done close to the Blessed Event, but the ability to get things done has quickly and dramatically decreased.
Let's take today for instance. It's a Wednesday and my husband has a trip and those are the perfect days for me to get the kids' rooms cleaned up, laundry washed and folded and possibly even put away, errands done and dinner prep done ahead of time... Theoretically, this sounds absolutely and completely do-able. My soul is willing, but I never seem to take into account the state of how my body may or may not react. Why I cannot seem to get it through my head that I am 35 weeks pregnant and that I can't catapult into my day with a massive jolt of caffeine and hit the ground running astounds me every day. I would compare it to what I must imagine those little old 95 year-old ladies who wear the coke bottle glasses and are still driving (at 15 mph, mind you) and teeter about thinking that everything is perfectly normal and that they don't need one bit of help. I am sure they believe themselves to be not a day over 68 and all is right in their world, but the reality of the situation is quite different. Such must be my case. I THINK I can, but CAN I? Every day I am slightly disappointed... and I really shouldn't be.
I made myself a list as I do when my husband goes on trips- an extensive To Do List that makes perfect sense and quite easily (in my mind) accomplishable. However, I propped myself up in bed last night with about five pillows and my trusty body pillow to help ward off discomfort and the acidy heartburn that comes from, well, virtually anything combined with a horizontal position and I decided to get a good night of rest. 10:30- lights out. Sleep did not come until 12:30am and I was up before 1am because I had to pee. I did fall asleep when I returned until about 2:30 which is when the next bathroom visit was necessary. 4:15am was my husband's alarm and again another bathroom break and I was simply lying down at 4:30 or so when my husband needed to actually get up to go to work. Shortly thereafter, I had a bed visitor, my five year old daughter knew Daddy was leaving and likes to join me and an hour later my son also joined us and extremely quickly after that, the urgent inquiries to watch tv began and after the lack of sleep and the kicking baby in my belly, I quickly relented. Needless to say, this is how the snowball begins. A shower was more than necessary and needless to say, breakfast wasn't on the table until past 10:30am. And now, all I wanted to do was to sit down. Had I accomplished anything other than my usual goal of "not stinking" and getting dishes done and children fed? Nope. Did I now feel like dressing the kids, getting the dog settled, and get out the door to go on the errands to the four separate places that I needed to and intended to go, all requiring both the exiting of the car and carts and then once finished at the locations, the loading of the car, seatbelts, etc and then off to the next one? Really? And THIS is when I look at my list as I've just been completely tired out by showering, breakfast and dishes and my already slightly swelling feet and ankles and think, "What on EARTH are you THINKING?!" Maybe there are some Super Pregnant Mommies out there who can do all this without batting an eye lash, but my eye lashes are batting a mile a minute with intermittent eye-rolls inserted as well to those women who are obviously making me look very bad at this point.
My husband keeps telling me to just do what I can and take it easy... He is the most wonderful man ever and I should probably just listen to him. Pregnancy is temporary and it won't be like this forever, but unfortunately that doesn't help me today...
Let's take today for instance. It's a Wednesday and my husband has a trip and those are the perfect days for me to get the kids' rooms cleaned up, laundry washed and folded and possibly even put away, errands done and dinner prep done ahead of time... Theoretically, this sounds absolutely and completely do-able. My soul is willing, but I never seem to take into account the state of how my body may or may not react. Why I cannot seem to get it through my head that I am 35 weeks pregnant and that I can't catapult into my day with a massive jolt of caffeine and hit the ground running astounds me every day. I would compare it to what I must imagine those little old 95 year-old ladies who wear the coke bottle glasses and are still driving (at 15 mph, mind you) and teeter about thinking that everything is perfectly normal and that they don't need one bit of help. I am sure they believe themselves to be not a day over 68 and all is right in their world, but the reality of the situation is quite different. Such must be my case. I THINK I can, but CAN I? Every day I am slightly disappointed... and I really shouldn't be.
I made myself a list as I do when my husband goes on trips- an extensive To Do List that makes perfect sense and quite easily (in my mind) accomplishable. However, I propped myself up in bed last night with about five pillows and my trusty body pillow to help ward off discomfort and the acidy heartburn that comes from, well, virtually anything combined with a horizontal position and I decided to get a good night of rest. 10:30- lights out. Sleep did not come until 12:30am and I was up before 1am because I had to pee. I did fall asleep when I returned until about 2:30 which is when the next bathroom visit was necessary. 4:15am was my husband's alarm and again another bathroom break and I was simply lying down at 4:30 or so when my husband needed to actually get up to go to work. Shortly thereafter, I had a bed visitor, my five year old daughter knew Daddy was leaving and likes to join me and an hour later my son also joined us and extremely quickly after that, the urgent inquiries to watch tv began and after the lack of sleep and the kicking baby in my belly, I quickly relented. Needless to say, this is how the snowball begins. A shower was more than necessary and needless to say, breakfast wasn't on the table until past 10:30am. And now, all I wanted to do was to sit down. Had I accomplished anything other than my usual goal of "not stinking" and getting dishes done and children fed? Nope. Did I now feel like dressing the kids, getting the dog settled, and get out the door to go on the errands to the four separate places that I needed to and intended to go, all requiring both the exiting of the car and carts and then once finished at the locations, the loading of the car, seatbelts, etc and then off to the next one? Really? And THIS is when I look at my list as I've just been completely tired out by showering, breakfast and dishes and my already slightly swelling feet and ankles and think, "What on EARTH are you THINKING?!" Maybe there are some Super Pregnant Mommies out there who can do all this without batting an eye lash, but my eye lashes are batting a mile a minute with intermittent eye-rolls inserted as well to those women who are obviously making me look very bad at this point.
My husband keeps telling me to just do what I can and take it easy... He is the most wonderful man ever and I should probably just listen to him. Pregnancy is temporary and it won't be like this forever, but unfortunately that doesn't help me today...
Thursday, July 7, 2011
Used Books
Call me crazy, but I love a used book. There certainly is a place for a brand new hard cover from Barnes & Noble should the mood strike your fancy, but really, a used book has a story beyond the story to tell and if you are lucky enough, it just might give you a little chuckle.
We used to live in the cute little New England town of North Andover and biannually at the library there is a huge book sale over a weekend where on the last day, they issue Butcher Boy paper sacks and fill it to the brim with whatever treasures you will and it's a mere $4 per bag. This is my Christmas and if I'm lucky, I get to go twice in a year. In the past few years, I believe that most of my acquisitions have been from this sale. Since I can pack them into these bags, I don't always get around to reading them as fast as I can buy them because if I read all the books that I own, then I start to panic a little and then I have to beg my husband for more book money, and that's just a whole other issue and blog post that I just can't get into right now that involves the end of the world and having no more books to read should all the libraries close... I'll stop right there. Back to the used books: So, when I finally get around to reading some of these precious volumes, there are times when I get the bonus prize in them. Sometimes the bonus prize comes with other additions such as chocolate and/or orange cheese curl powder fingerprints on the corners of the pages where no doubt some reader was enjoying their book so much so that they forgot the obligatory napkin wipe of their fingers before leaving behind their identity, making their mark for all time and if I was just that crazy enough (I think I might be), I could see about checking out those prints. Sometimes there are ticket stubs, dry cleaner stubs, torn airplane or bus tickets and sometimes if I am lucky enough, note cards with notes. Other times there are passages underlined and notes in the margins and this, this is where it can get really, really hilarious.
Now, I'm not talking about educated, poignant remarks concerning literary devices in classical works-those would be great, I'm referring to completely random, un-insightful and particularly inane comments in the margins of non-classical literature. I have a few of those and have had a blast reading through some novels because of them. Good times. Forget the romantic comedy, pop some popcorn and find a contemporary novel that has notes in it written by a teenage girl! I'm serious.
This past spring I read Jonathan Safran Foer's Everything is Illuminated and was delighted that I came across such a delightful find. The novel itself was interesting to read enough. I didn't think it particularly fantastic, but it was good and what made it hysterical were these crazy notes that edged along the margins with the typical bubble writing and little tiny circles that dotted her every 'i' and if you think I am being stereotypical by assuming it was a girl, no, she wrote her name along the opening binding along the closed edges. Her name is Marissa.
First foray into her awesome insight begins on the About the Author page at the beginning of the novel:
-won many awards
-is totally hot
-went to Princeton
and then she re-writes the author's name in what I am assuming to be her "OMG HE'S HOT" best handwriting. I kid you not.
Then comes all the underlining. Believe me, I am a huge believer in underlining, but it's almost as if she was reading with her eyes closed and just picked random sentences with the most articles in it because they weren't in my opinion anything quite relevant at all... at ALL. Perhaps some cute smart boy was watching her read this novel and she wanted to look like she was getting a lot out of it so she began to underline? I don't know... If you want to see for yourself, I can lend the book to you.
There is also a note; Sexual stuff on page 119
Wow. Good to note. I hope she did great on her paper with that one!
It trails off after the middle and there are only a few short and shaky lines underneath random words from the middle to the end so I am thinking she either did not finish, got extremely bored with reading or noting her pertinent passages or the boy who was watching her walked away and never came back. Furthermore, there was a stack, a stack of note cards shoved in the center-- they were blank. Where is Sherlock when you need him? See how much fun all this can be? Trying to figure out the life or some previous owner from these weird little fragments left behind?
So, like I said, buying a brand new book can save you from this nonsense, but there are times where I really enjoy catching a glimpse into (and apparently mocking) the life and intelligence of some other previous reader. And who knows, some of my old books are out there and someone is probably saying the exact same thing...
We used to live in the cute little New England town of North Andover and biannually at the library there is a huge book sale over a weekend where on the last day, they issue Butcher Boy paper sacks and fill it to the brim with whatever treasures you will and it's a mere $4 per bag. This is my Christmas and if I'm lucky, I get to go twice in a year. In the past few years, I believe that most of my acquisitions have been from this sale. Since I can pack them into these bags, I don't always get around to reading them as fast as I can buy them because if I read all the books that I own, then I start to panic a little and then I have to beg my husband for more book money, and that's just a whole other issue and blog post that I just can't get into right now that involves the end of the world and having no more books to read should all the libraries close... I'll stop right there. Back to the used books: So, when I finally get around to reading some of these precious volumes, there are times when I get the bonus prize in them. Sometimes the bonus prize comes with other additions such as chocolate and/or orange cheese curl powder fingerprints on the corners of the pages where no doubt some reader was enjoying their book so much so that they forgot the obligatory napkin wipe of their fingers before leaving behind their identity, making their mark for all time and if I was just that crazy enough (I think I might be), I could see about checking out those prints. Sometimes there are ticket stubs, dry cleaner stubs, torn airplane or bus tickets and sometimes if I am lucky enough, note cards with notes. Other times there are passages underlined and notes in the margins and this, this is where it can get really, really hilarious.
Now, I'm not talking about educated, poignant remarks concerning literary devices in classical works-those would be great, I'm referring to completely random, un-insightful and particularly inane comments in the margins of non-classical literature. I have a few of those and have had a blast reading through some novels because of them. Good times. Forget the romantic comedy, pop some popcorn and find a contemporary novel that has notes in it written by a teenage girl! I'm serious.
This past spring I read Jonathan Safran Foer's Everything is Illuminated and was delighted that I came across such a delightful find. The novel itself was interesting to read enough. I didn't think it particularly fantastic, but it was good and what made it hysterical were these crazy notes that edged along the margins with the typical bubble writing and little tiny circles that dotted her every 'i' and if you think I am being stereotypical by assuming it was a girl, no, she wrote her name along the opening binding along the closed edges. Her name is Marissa.
First foray into her awesome insight begins on the About the Author page at the beginning of the novel:
-won many awards
-is totally hot
-went to Princeton
and then she re-writes the author's name in what I am assuming to be her "OMG HE'S HOT" best handwriting. I kid you not.
Then comes all the underlining. Believe me, I am a huge believer in underlining, but it's almost as if she was reading with her eyes closed and just picked random sentences with the most articles in it because they weren't in my opinion anything quite relevant at all... at ALL. Perhaps some cute smart boy was watching her read this novel and she wanted to look like she was getting a lot out of it so she began to underline? I don't know... If you want to see for yourself, I can lend the book to you.
There is also a note; Sexual stuff on page 119
Wow. Good to note. I hope she did great on her paper with that one!
It trails off after the middle and there are only a few short and shaky lines underneath random words from the middle to the end so I am thinking she either did not finish, got extremely bored with reading or noting her pertinent passages or the boy who was watching her walked away and never came back. Furthermore, there was a stack, a stack of note cards shoved in the center-- they were blank. Where is Sherlock when you need him? See how much fun all this can be? Trying to figure out the life or some previous owner from these weird little fragments left behind?
So, like I said, buying a brand new book can save you from this nonsense, but there are times where I really enjoy catching a glimpse into (and apparently mocking) the life and intelligence of some other previous reader. And who knows, some of my old books are out there and someone is probably saying the exact same thing...
Sunday, June 12, 2011
20 Questions
1) Why do my children still call for me over and over and over after I've said, "Yes?" to their queries?
2) Why do they continue to wake up between 2 and 4am for any number of given reasons even after days where I literally make them run laps in the back yard?
3) Who on earth wants to eat applesauce at every meal for three days in a row?
4) Why, after taking the dog out to relieve himself (and he does!), does the dog run inside and then instantly poop again indoors?
5) Why do my children only interrupt me ten minutes into a relaxing chick flick, but if I'm doing something boring, they stay in bed?
6) How come my son runs and poops in his pants only after I've put a fresh pull up on him?
7) Why does my daughter respond, "But I doooooo!" when I have told her she has lost a privilege of some sort as consequence to lying, whining, disobeying, etc.?
8) When does a child's logic kick in?
9) What part of "Don't you DARE move!" is not clear?
10) Why do children automatically think that because it's something they like, it somehow magically becomes their property?
11) Why do they insist on climbing into bed with me at 3am and then start doing all manner of gymnastics and asking weird questions and start to whine when I ask them to go to sleep or go back to their bed?
12) Why don't they get the hint when I say, "Do I do that to you?" and they respond, "No." that this means that perhaps they should also NOT do that, as well?
13) Why do children become perfect alternate versions of themselves when Daddy is around?
14) Why do grandparents get to be the fun ones doling out the treats and I'm left with the roll of Mean Mommy, banishing all sugar and movies, toys, etc.?
15) What is with all the repeating of questions- why do they think if they continue to ask the same question over and over that the answer will somehow be different?
16) Why do they beg for something they have had and enjoyed in the past and then once given to them act put out and say they it's not what they wanted or they don't like it?
17) Why do husbands always ask, "Why are you shouting?" when it's obviously done to be heard over all the noise?
18) Doesn't it seem obvious as to why chocolate and flowers are necessary?
19) Why is it so hard to shower when one has small children?
20) And why is it that the second you put on something new or the one nice/clean piece of clothing left, that someone wipes their nose on your sleeve or vomits or touches you with spaghetti sauce on their fingers?
2) Why do they continue to wake up between 2 and 4am for any number of given reasons even after days where I literally make them run laps in the back yard?
3) Who on earth wants to eat applesauce at every meal for three days in a row?
4) Why, after taking the dog out to relieve himself (and he does!), does the dog run inside and then instantly poop again indoors?
5) Why do my children only interrupt me ten minutes into a relaxing chick flick, but if I'm doing something boring, they stay in bed?
6) How come my son runs and poops in his pants only after I've put a fresh pull up on him?
7) Why does my daughter respond, "But I doooooo!" when I have told her she has lost a privilege of some sort as consequence to lying, whining, disobeying, etc.?
8) When does a child's logic kick in?
9) What part of "Don't you DARE move!" is not clear?
10) Why do children automatically think that because it's something they like, it somehow magically becomes their property?
11) Why do they insist on climbing into bed with me at 3am and then start doing all manner of gymnastics and asking weird questions and start to whine when I ask them to go to sleep or go back to their bed?
12) Why don't they get the hint when I say, "Do I do that to you?" and they respond, "No." that this means that perhaps they should also NOT do that, as well?
13) Why do children become perfect alternate versions of themselves when Daddy is around?
14) Why do grandparents get to be the fun ones doling out the treats and I'm left with the roll of Mean Mommy, banishing all sugar and movies, toys, etc.?
15) What is with all the repeating of questions- why do they think if they continue to ask the same question over and over that the answer will somehow be different?
16) Why do they beg for something they have had and enjoyed in the past and then once given to them act put out and say they it's not what they wanted or they don't like it?
17) Why do husbands always ask, "Why are you shouting?" when it's obviously done to be heard over all the noise?
18) Doesn't it seem obvious as to why chocolate and flowers are necessary?
19) Why is it so hard to shower when one has small children?
20) And why is it that the second you put on something new or the one nice/clean piece of clothing left, that someone wipes their nose on your sleeve or vomits or touches you with spaghetti sauce on their fingers?
Friday, June 10, 2011
Into Middle Earth
When it comes to a story that is so epic in scope and creation, there really isn't much, in my opinion, that seems to compare to Tolkien's masterpiece of Middle Earth in The Lord of the Rings. It's odd for me to even acknowledge this as I am someone who only dabbles marginally on the fringe (or so I only admit) of the SF and Fantasy genres. Growing up, I was more of a Little Women, Anne of Green Gables, Little House on the Prairie girl, but as I grew, so did my taste in literature. I had read some of The Chronicles of Narnia and the odd "weird" book here and there, but it wasn't until the Harry Potter series came out when I was in college that I got into Fantasy and even took an SF class that truly changed the way I looked at the genre. Tolkien still lay beyond my grasp, however, as someone so far and deep into this whole other world that I didn't even want to touch the idea of possibly reading anything he wrote. The Lord of the Rings, to me, was in the same realm as those dark cloaked figures in basements playing Dungeons and Dragons and playing video games that were too complex to even comprehend. A little dark, a little shady, scary and too much for me to really give much thought. I was wrong.
In 2001, I was dragged to the first installment of the movie version. The trailer looked interesting enough, not my type of movie really, but I liked movies and figured I would go. The funny thing was that I didn't even know until the movie ended that that was only the end of the BEGINNING of the movies. I remember sitting in the theater, shifting in the seat almost two hours in, trying to bring feeling back into my bum and hips thinking, "This doesn't seem to be ending anytime soon. Where the heck is Mount Doom?" Then the movie ended an hour or so later and it wasn't until after that moment of complete confusion that I realized, this is a massive story... just imagine how crazy the book must be. The book is almost always better than the movie! And ever since then, I've wanted to tackle reading this behemoth. It hasn't been until now, almost ten years later that I am getting around to it.
Tolkien was a scholar and knew exactly what he was doing. He didn't just create a thinly veiled alternate world that resembles the world in which we live (Pullman, Rowling, L'Engle, etc.), he went full throttle and created this entirely new earth populated with all manner of myth along with men complete with history and genealogy (Mieville, Clark, etc.) that all writers in the genre can only now aspire to be inspired by. It seems almost impossible not to see his influence in so many of the modern writers. Just having read the intro and first three chapters of The Fellowship of the Ring, I can see the similarities and themes that others must have derived from Tolkien's model. I can't say that I am surprised to read that the writing alone took years and the revisions span decades and even now, there are left discrepancies and faux-historical inaccuracies. How could there not be? Furthermore, as daunting as the task of reading it may be, it was never meant as a trilogy, but published in three parts because of the changes that needed to be made and because of Tolkien's work on appendices and histories and such. What all this entails, I can't quite say as I have only just begun the journey along with Frodo and the others and after hours of reading, we have yet to quit The Shire. Weren't they already quite in harm's way and beyond the edge of their home less than half an hour in the movie? Ah, movie magic.
I always hate to compare movies with books because movies are so limiting in a manner to a story and in most cases, I rarely see a movie before reading the book, but having seen all the movies a number of times and having been so impressed by the scope of the movie's interpretation, I am blown away by the book. Only just now getting into this novel, I find that there is so much more that we didn't get and couldn't get in a film version. I am compelled to keep reading...
More later.
In 2001, I was dragged to the first installment of the movie version. The trailer looked interesting enough, not my type of movie really, but I liked movies and figured I would go. The funny thing was that I didn't even know until the movie ended that that was only the end of the BEGINNING of the movies. I remember sitting in the theater, shifting in the seat almost two hours in, trying to bring feeling back into my bum and hips thinking, "This doesn't seem to be ending anytime soon. Where the heck is Mount Doom?" Then the movie ended an hour or so later and it wasn't until after that moment of complete confusion that I realized, this is a massive story... just imagine how crazy the book must be. The book is almost always better than the movie! And ever since then, I've wanted to tackle reading this behemoth. It hasn't been until now, almost ten years later that I am getting around to it.
Tolkien was a scholar and knew exactly what he was doing. He didn't just create a thinly veiled alternate world that resembles the world in which we live (Pullman, Rowling, L'Engle, etc.), he went full throttle and created this entirely new earth populated with all manner of myth along with men complete with history and genealogy (Mieville, Clark, etc.) that all writers in the genre can only now aspire to be inspired by. It seems almost impossible not to see his influence in so many of the modern writers. Just having read the intro and first three chapters of The Fellowship of the Ring, I can see the similarities and themes that others must have derived from Tolkien's model. I can't say that I am surprised to read that the writing alone took years and the revisions span decades and even now, there are left discrepancies and faux-historical inaccuracies. How could there not be? Furthermore, as daunting as the task of reading it may be, it was never meant as a trilogy, but published in three parts because of the changes that needed to be made and because of Tolkien's work on appendices and histories and such. What all this entails, I can't quite say as I have only just begun the journey along with Frodo and the others and after hours of reading, we have yet to quit The Shire. Weren't they already quite in harm's way and beyond the edge of their home less than half an hour in the movie? Ah, movie magic.
I always hate to compare movies with books because movies are so limiting in a manner to a story and in most cases, I rarely see a movie before reading the book, but having seen all the movies a number of times and having been so impressed by the scope of the movie's interpretation, I am blown away by the book. Only just now getting into this novel, I find that there is so much more that we didn't get and couldn't get in a film version. I am compelled to keep reading...
More later.
Friday, June 3, 2011
28 Days
No, I am not in rehab...
...my husband is! Just kidding. He's in his Fancy Pants Plane training class (yes, that's the official title!), no seriously, he is training to fly a new aircraft for his job. So, that means, I am on full-time double duty! Which, all in all, even though just an hour ago I was yelling at the top of my lungs to be heard over my children's whining and screaming when Finding Nemo ended and no one wanted to calm down for dinner, hasn't been too bad. I know as crazy as that sounds, let me explain. I knew it was coming and knowing is half the battle. It's the lengthy trips that get extended without any notice that really cause me to go berserk. This was planned and I know he will be coming back and if I can get through these crazy training times, I can get through his regular job which is easy enough when he's gone for a few days back for a day or two, then out again. Those become a picnic in a flower filled meadow! This is Day 12 and there is still a busy week of school ahead and pre-school outings planned and then another week and things will start to settle into more of his in and out routine when training is over.
One thing I have gotten really used to is the reading time. We all know I love to read, but Official Nighttime Reading Time only became official by default. It became my only option (but we all know that I am beyond fine with that). How did it become my only nighttime option? Simple enough: The children either have bionic hearing (which I doubt because of aforementioned Mommy yelling over screaming and whining) or they have rigged up some device of which I am not aware that alerts them when Mommy sits down to watch a movie, show, or simply turns it on. I am led to believe it's only a movie or show that I've been planning on seeing because it's only when I would LOVE to be interrupted from some mind-numbing inane programming that I cannot even believe I am watching, yet inexplicably am unable to turn off that I am NOT interrupted, so they MUST know when I am wanting to enjoy a specific show or movie. How? I haven't figured out yet. I came to the deciding point when an hour and a half girly movie ended up taking over three hours to get through a mere hour and five minutes because my daughter kept coming into my room asking what I was watching, that she heard a noise from the movie and wanted to know what it was, or to come and say she loved me...again, all while staring intently at the paused screen trying to figure out what Mommy could possibly watch at night without her that is so interesting. So, after all that, I figured, if I just read quietly, 1) I can just re-read the portion during which I may have been interrupted which is easier to do with a book then having to queue up a movie and 2) it's quiet and if I turn a page, I don't think either will run in and want to know what that noise was in the book that I am reading. Now, I know I have other options such as folding laundry, dishes, organizing, writing thank you notes, grocery and meal lists, and so on, but let's face it, that's not what I want to spend my ONLY ALONE TIME doing... so I don't. I try to get those done during the day and get the kids involved the best that I can, so I can enjoy what is now the official nighttime activity.
Needless to say, one can get through some fairly decent sized books in 12 long and quiet evenings when not much interrupted or when sleep doesn't come so quickly because of those lovely bladder kicks and somersault rolls from our little expected Pollywog. So, for the remainder of my nights, I am attempting to see just how far into The Lord of the Rings that I can get... which is the subject for an entirely separate blog.
Here's to reading and letting my blog's randomness rule... and to Middle Earth.
...my husband is! Just kidding. He's in his Fancy Pants Plane training class (yes, that's the official title!), no seriously, he is training to fly a new aircraft for his job. So, that means, I am on full-time double duty! Which, all in all, even though just an hour ago I was yelling at the top of my lungs to be heard over my children's whining and screaming when Finding Nemo ended and no one wanted to calm down for dinner, hasn't been too bad. I know as crazy as that sounds, let me explain. I knew it was coming and knowing is half the battle. It's the lengthy trips that get extended without any notice that really cause me to go berserk. This was planned and I know he will be coming back and if I can get through these crazy training times, I can get through his regular job which is easy enough when he's gone for a few days back for a day or two, then out again. Those become a picnic in a flower filled meadow! This is Day 12 and there is still a busy week of school ahead and pre-school outings planned and then another week and things will start to settle into more of his in and out routine when training is over.
One thing I have gotten really used to is the reading time. We all know I love to read, but Official Nighttime Reading Time only became official by default. It became my only option (but we all know that I am beyond fine with that). How did it become my only nighttime option? Simple enough: The children either have bionic hearing (which I doubt because of aforementioned Mommy yelling over screaming and whining) or they have rigged up some device of which I am not aware that alerts them when Mommy sits down to watch a movie, show, or simply turns it on. I am led to believe it's only a movie or show that I've been planning on seeing because it's only when I would LOVE to be interrupted from some mind-numbing inane programming that I cannot even believe I am watching, yet inexplicably am unable to turn off that I am NOT interrupted, so they MUST know when I am wanting to enjoy a specific show or movie. How? I haven't figured out yet. I came to the deciding point when an hour and a half girly movie ended up taking over three hours to get through a mere hour and five minutes because my daughter kept coming into my room asking what I was watching, that she heard a noise from the movie and wanted to know what it was, or to come and say she loved me...again, all while staring intently at the paused screen trying to figure out what Mommy could possibly watch at night without her that is so interesting. So, after all that, I figured, if I just read quietly, 1) I can just re-read the portion during which I may have been interrupted which is easier to do with a book then having to queue up a movie and 2) it's quiet and if I turn a page, I don't think either will run in and want to know what that noise was in the book that I am reading. Now, I know I have other options such as folding laundry, dishes, organizing, writing thank you notes, grocery and meal lists, and so on, but let's face it, that's not what I want to spend my ONLY ALONE TIME doing... so I don't. I try to get those done during the day and get the kids involved the best that I can, so I can enjoy what is now the official nighttime activity.
Needless to say, one can get through some fairly decent sized books in 12 long and quiet evenings when not much interrupted or when sleep doesn't come so quickly because of those lovely bladder kicks and somersault rolls from our little expected Pollywog. So, for the remainder of my nights, I am attempting to see just how far into The Lord of the Rings that I can get... which is the subject for an entirely separate blog.
Here's to reading and letting my blog's randomness rule... and to Middle Earth.
Monday, May 23, 2011
One Man's Trash...
is his wife's new toy!
As the wife of a techno-junkie, I find it a great perk to get the so-called "hand-me-downs"! My husband gets a fantastic new job, so he needs his tecnho-upgrade. This means his old computer goes to Yours Truly. Of course I joke that I get the used goods, but in all honesty, I am so thrilled to get a new(er) computer! My previous mac laptop was the saddest sight you ever saw. It would not run at all unless it was plugged in and even then, the power cord was bent and mutilated so badly that I had to jam it in and yank the cord tight underneath in order to keep it plugged into the side of the laptop. The wires underneath the plastic covering were showing through and I am sure it was not the safest as it would get burning hot after a few minutes and then the poor thing would begin to whir and whine pitifully until I was done abusing it. The little rainbow would spin for a minute and a half when you clicked on anything... How much of my time has been wasted just waiting to open my mailbox? It would be sad to know. Furthermore, only one side of the finger pad worked, so in order to click, I had to make sure that I was pressing down rather hard on the upper left corner only. The rest of it must have decided to take an early retirement. The "5" key was downright missing and I have a sneaking suspicion that one of my children pried it off and they could have possibly ingested it as well. I really hope not, but I haven't seen it since it was in it's proper place. Also, it's a good thing I know how to type without having to search for the letters on the keys because most of the keys on the upper left hand side were worn completely off. Not to mention, I believe I had a ghost or an apparition of sorts that had taken up residence within and was constantly trying to contact me, but the only thing it ever seemed to be able to get across to me when I was trying to work on something was, "ddddddddddddddddddddddddd"... Very unnerving, not to mention annoying and creepy. Ah, it was a good little laptop and served it's purpose well, but oh if I am not just tickled silly to be sitting here completely unplugged, typing on shiny lettered keys without my knees feeling like they are burning, nor am I interrupted every few lines with having to delete a string of d's that had decided to show up. It's amazing what happens when you realize what you have been missing out on!
It wasn't until recently that my husband realized what a sorry state of affairs that my computer had become and he questioned me as to why I let it get so bad before saying anything. Perhaps this is a fault of mine, when things start to break or go awry, I just patch it up and deal with it. I don't mention the small things really. If it caught fire directly in my lap or if the apparition started typing actual words to me other than the one usual letter, then I probably would have mentioned something sooner. After all, it's a luxury in a sense to even have one, right? Well, maybe not. I think it's pretty standard for all Americans to own at least one laptop or home PC...The point is, I am so excited that I am now babbling because as I am typing, the letters are showing up immediately on the screen and are not two sentences behind and taking their merry time popping up!
Since things are easier now, I may be able to post more often and get some proper writing done and work more efficiently. Ah technology, today I don't hate you so much...
As the wife of a techno-junkie, I find it a great perk to get the so-called "hand-me-downs"! My husband gets a fantastic new job, so he needs his tecnho-upgrade. This means his old computer goes to Yours Truly. Of course I joke that I get the used goods, but in all honesty, I am so thrilled to get a new(er) computer! My previous mac laptop was the saddest sight you ever saw. It would not run at all unless it was plugged in and even then, the power cord was bent and mutilated so badly that I had to jam it in and yank the cord tight underneath in order to keep it plugged into the side of the laptop. The wires underneath the plastic covering were showing through and I am sure it was not the safest as it would get burning hot after a few minutes and then the poor thing would begin to whir and whine pitifully until I was done abusing it. The little rainbow would spin for a minute and a half when you clicked on anything... How much of my time has been wasted just waiting to open my mailbox? It would be sad to know. Furthermore, only one side of the finger pad worked, so in order to click, I had to make sure that I was pressing down rather hard on the upper left corner only. The rest of it must have decided to take an early retirement. The "5" key was downright missing and I have a sneaking suspicion that one of my children pried it off and they could have possibly ingested it as well. I really hope not, but I haven't seen it since it was in it's proper place. Also, it's a good thing I know how to type without having to search for the letters on the keys because most of the keys on the upper left hand side were worn completely off. Not to mention, I believe I had a ghost or an apparition of sorts that had taken up residence within and was constantly trying to contact me, but the only thing it ever seemed to be able to get across to me when I was trying to work on something was, "ddddddddddddddddddddddddd"... Very unnerving, not to mention annoying and creepy. Ah, it was a good little laptop and served it's purpose well, but oh if I am not just tickled silly to be sitting here completely unplugged, typing on shiny lettered keys without my knees feeling like they are burning, nor am I interrupted every few lines with having to delete a string of d's that had decided to show up. It's amazing what happens when you realize what you have been missing out on!
It wasn't until recently that my husband realized what a sorry state of affairs that my computer had become and he questioned me as to why I let it get so bad before saying anything. Perhaps this is a fault of mine, when things start to break or go awry, I just patch it up and deal with it. I don't mention the small things really. If it caught fire directly in my lap or if the apparition started typing actual words to me other than the one usual letter, then I probably would have mentioned something sooner. After all, it's a luxury in a sense to even have one, right? Well, maybe not. I think it's pretty standard for all Americans to own at least one laptop or home PC...The point is, I am so excited that I am now babbling because as I am typing, the letters are showing up immediately on the screen and are not two sentences behind and taking their merry time popping up!
Since things are easier now, I may be able to post more often and get some proper writing done and work more efficiently. Ah technology, today I don't hate you so much...
Wednesday, April 6, 2011
The More I Read...
...the more I realize how little I have read.
I find it both overwhelming and at the same time oddly comforting that I could never ever possibly run out of books to read. I haven't done the research on how many new fiction books are published each year, but I am sure it's a lot. Add that number to all the book lists of "Books Everyone Should Read" and all the classics that are required for school and all the fabulous books out there that have been in rotation since Gutenberg and his awesome printing press and, of course unfortunately, all the terribly awful books that are touted the world over that just make you want to scream because they wasted hours and hours of your life where you just kept hoping it would redeem itself, but alas, you waded through it and it was a dud. Who can tell, unless they read through those as well?
Furthermore, all the children's books out there that are discovered now that I am a parent that I am amazed that I somehow missed out on as a child, introducing those to my children is a pure delight.
I must admit however, I am becoming somewhat obsessed about fitting in more reading time in my life now because I have a feeling that all things literary (and otherwise not children involved) will be put on hiatus once our new little person arrives. This is slightly frightening to me. I somehow found time to read while breast feeding and while the baby napped when the others arrived, but this one poses a threat to me because now I have two other children that are starting to lead busier lives and as Mama, I am responsible to bathe, dress, feed and drive them about all the while tending to New Baby also. As opposed as I have been to the idea in the past, I am thinking that Audio Books are going to make a brief appearance in my very near future.
Does that still count? I am hoping so...
I find it both overwhelming and at the same time oddly comforting that I could never ever possibly run out of books to read. I haven't done the research on how many new fiction books are published each year, but I am sure it's a lot. Add that number to all the book lists of "Books Everyone Should Read" and all the classics that are required for school and all the fabulous books out there that have been in rotation since Gutenberg and his awesome printing press and, of course unfortunately, all the terribly awful books that are touted the world over that just make you want to scream because they wasted hours and hours of your life where you just kept hoping it would redeem itself, but alas, you waded through it and it was a dud. Who can tell, unless they read through those as well?
Furthermore, all the children's books out there that are discovered now that I am a parent that I am amazed that I somehow missed out on as a child, introducing those to my children is a pure delight.
I must admit however, I am becoming somewhat obsessed about fitting in more reading time in my life now because I have a feeling that all things literary (and otherwise not children involved) will be put on hiatus once our new little person arrives. This is slightly frightening to me. I somehow found time to read while breast feeding and while the baby napped when the others arrived, but this one poses a threat to me because now I have two other children that are starting to lead busier lives and as Mama, I am responsible to bathe, dress, feed and drive them about all the while tending to New Baby also. As opposed as I have been to the idea in the past, I am thinking that Audio Books are going to make a brief appearance in my very near future.
Does that still count? I am hoping so...
Wednesday, March 2, 2011
Reason #16 Why Feminists Must Hate Me
My husband is probably the best husband/father/overall man in general in the entire world... at least I think so, of course. I adore him for more than just a few reasons, but one attribute he has that can be quite rare in the male species is his thoughtfulness. For one thing, unless he has been traveling for an extended period of time or crazy busy, I never have to worry about filling the gas tank. This is probably the reason why I can never, ever seem to find the little lever that pops the gas cap door...
Cue yesterday.
On the way to pick up my daughter from school I glanced at the dashboard and lo and behold, that little menacing arm was hovering just above the E. The first thing that comes to my mind? Seinfeld. You know the episode. The one where Kramer is so gung ho to keep driving on fumes. I become inspired to see if I can make it to North Andover and back to North Reading to pick up my husband and then see if we can then make it on fumes to the nearest gas station. Immediately I have visions of myself with my hazards on with my two children strapped in back and frantically trying to explain the situation to my husband over the phone or to the police officer who is obliged to come and wave traffic around the stupid woman who was inspired by Kramer from Seinfeld to see JUST how far she could go. Plan B? Stop for gas on the way after picking up my daughter. That would be the most prudent.
After picking the girl up, I drive from whence I have come and head to the full service gas station. My heart quickens in my chest with a premonition that somehow, someway, I am going to end up looking stupid. I do not fail to deliver on this.
As I pull in, I am grateful I don't have to maneuver around any other cars that are facing the wrong direction on the wrong side of the pumps. My driving skill set is not that great. I uneventfully pull up on the correct side, roll down the window, turn off the car, grab my wallet, and breathe a sigh of relief. The young attendant guy arrives at my window and politely asks me what I would like and I pretend as if I do this all the time as I nonchalantly say what I hear on tv, "Fill it up, please?" and he turns away. In a second he is peeping at me through the window again. "Would you open the gas tank?" "Sure," I say. And now my heart starts thumping. I don't know where the lever is. "Um, I have to find the lever. Hold on a second?" I don't dare look at his face as I am sure that mine is burning bright pink. I see something that looks vaguely familiar, I pull on it. The hood pops. I back up my seat and try to look under the wheel for another lever of some kind. He patiently stands next to the door as I open it and proceed to search. "Why don't you let me take a look for you," he says. Who says chivalry is dead? Either that, or I was just holding him up. With an instant, "Here it is!" and a click, he has it open and the pump going. And so I mumble something about probably getting the hood back down. I move to the front of the car and press on the hood. Nothing. I look for something that resembles the crack of it so I can get my fingers underneath and with my nails I try to just lift whatever it is I can get them under. Again, nothing. I hear the attendant's voice yet again, "Do you know how to do that?" No use in lying and saving face now. I look up at him and smile, "Nope!" With a smirk and a chuckle he says he can also take care of that for me. Now there is nothing left for me to do but to climb back into the car and pray for it to be five minutes into the future so I can escape my embarrassment. The pump stops, he arrives with my card, I sign and and sigh in relief and off I go. I probably should have tipped him or something. Next time? What would Kramer do? Plan A it is!
As I pulled away, I couldn't help but laugh as I could almost hear the screams of feminists the world over sensing the incompetence of some girly girl somewhere who needs so much help for such a small and seemingly simple task as re-filling a gas tank. When I told the tale to my husband, all I got was a chuckle, a shake of the head and an, "I love you." All in a day's work.
Cue yesterday.
On the way to pick up my daughter from school I glanced at the dashboard and lo and behold, that little menacing arm was hovering just above the E. The first thing that comes to my mind? Seinfeld. You know the episode. The one where Kramer is so gung ho to keep driving on fumes. I become inspired to see if I can make it to North Andover and back to North Reading to pick up my husband and then see if we can then make it on fumes to the nearest gas station. Immediately I have visions of myself with my hazards on with my two children strapped in back and frantically trying to explain the situation to my husband over the phone or to the police officer who is obliged to come and wave traffic around the stupid woman who was inspired by Kramer from Seinfeld to see JUST how far she could go. Plan B? Stop for gas on the way after picking up my daughter. That would be the most prudent.
After picking the girl up, I drive from whence I have come and head to the full service gas station. My heart quickens in my chest with a premonition that somehow, someway, I am going to end up looking stupid. I do not fail to deliver on this.
As I pull in, I am grateful I don't have to maneuver around any other cars that are facing the wrong direction on the wrong side of the pumps. My driving skill set is not that great. I uneventfully pull up on the correct side, roll down the window, turn off the car, grab my wallet, and breathe a sigh of relief. The young attendant guy arrives at my window and politely asks me what I would like and I pretend as if I do this all the time as I nonchalantly say what I hear on tv, "Fill it up, please?" and he turns away. In a second he is peeping at me through the window again. "Would you open the gas tank?" "Sure," I say. And now my heart starts thumping. I don't know where the lever is. "Um, I have to find the lever. Hold on a second?" I don't dare look at his face as I am sure that mine is burning bright pink. I see something that looks vaguely familiar, I pull on it. The hood pops. I back up my seat and try to look under the wheel for another lever of some kind. He patiently stands next to the door as I open it and proceed to search. "Why don't you let me take a look for you," he says. Who says chivalry is dead? Either that, or I was just holding him up. With an instant, "Here it is!" and a click, he has it open and the pump going. And so I mumble something about probably getting the hood back down. I move to the front of the car and press on the hood. Nothing. I look for something that resembles the crack of it so I can get my fingers underneath and with my nails I try to just lift whatever it is I can get them under. Again, nothing. I hear the attendant's voice yet again, "Do you know how to do that?" No use in lying and saving face now. I look up at him and smile, "Nope!" With a smirk and a chuckle he says he can also take care of that for me. Now there is nothing left for me to do but to climb back into the car and pray for it to be five minutes into the future so I can escape my embarrassment. The pump stops, he arrives with my card, I sign and and sigh in relief and off I go. I probably should have tipped him or something. Next time? What would Kramer do? Plan A it is!
As I pulled away, I couldn't help but laugh as I could almost hear the screams of feminists the world over sensing the incompetence of some girly girl somewhere who needs so much help for such a small and seemingly simple task as re-filling a gas tank. When I told the tale to my husband, all I got was a chuckle, a shake of the head and an, "I love you." All in a day's work.
Monday, February 7, 2011
Fun with Cake
If you know me, you know I love baking, but I have hit a bit of a rut with cake baking and need some new recipes! There is an upcoming cake walk at my daughter's pre-school and I want all your delicious recipes to choose from!
I will have the children choose a recipe that they think is best (NO CAJOLING, I PROMISE!) and if they can't settle on an agreement, I will have them pull one out of a hat!
If you live within a fifty mile radius of me and you have the winning cake, I will bake one for the cake walk and one just for you! What could be better than that? Your favorite cake for no work!
So, send me any and all of your favorite recipes and let's see what transpires! The event is this Saturday, so HURRY!
I will have the children choose a recipe that they think is best (NO CAJOLING, I PROMISE!) and if they can't settle on an agreement, I will have them pull one out of a hat!
If you live within a fifty mile radius of me and you have the winning cake, I will bake one for the cake walk and one just for you! What could be better than that? Your favorite cake for no work!
So, send me any and all of your favorite recipes and let's see what transpires! The event is this Saturday, so HURRY!
Tuesday, February 1, 2011
Things I Had Forgotten
The painfulness that is Caffeine Free Living.
Not being able to flop over on my stomach to sleep in the night.
Not being able to sleep on your back, either.
When craving buffalo chicken, you have to figure out something equally as cooling and tangy and delicious as blue cheese dressing to dip them into (IMPOSSIBLE).
Massive and extremely painful boobs (husbands the world over are overjoyed with the former and utterly grieved by the latter).
Exhaustion.
When you finally DO get to go to sleep at night, your sleep is interrupted seven times (more or less) by a full bladder.
You smell EVERYTHING.
When you smell anything that remotely smells even the slightest bit unpleasant, you may or may not vomit immediately.
When hungry (ravenous is a better word), if you don't eat something absolutely delicious immediately, all small animals and children need to steer clear until you do... just in case.
After eating delicious meal, may or may not think it was the nastiest thing you've ever eaten and consequently may or may not vomit.
Stupid songs from your past and insipid commercials will make you bawl... and you won't be able to control the blubbering for about an hour or two.
Sensitive teeth.
The craziest dreams you've EVER had, EVER!
Clumsiness: You can and will trip over absolutely nothing and possibly anything else as well.
And because of these things, on one particular nausea-filled evening,my husband asked me, "If it gets this bad, then why do you like being pregnant so much?"
Only a man would ask that question. I am sure all my pregnant-loving and baby-loving friends will get the joke. Let's not throw the baby out with bath water, right?
Ten Weeks down.
Thirty to go... And loving every second of it.
Not being able to flop over on my stomach to sleep in the night.
Not being able to sleep on your back, either.
When craving buffalo chicken, you have to figure out something equally as cooling and tangy and delicious as blue cheese dressing to dip them into (IMPOSSIBLE).
Massive and extremely painful boobs (husbands the world over are overjoyed with the former and utterly grieved by the latter).
Exhaustion.
When you finally DO get to go to sleep at night, your sleep is interrupted seven times (more or less) by a full bladder.
You smell EVERYTHING.
When you smell anything that remotely smells even the slightest bit unpleasant, you may or may not vomit immediately.
When hungry (ravenous is a better word), if you don't eat something absolutely delicious immediately, all small animals and children need to steer clear until you do... just in case.
After eating delicious meal, may or may not think it was the nastiest thing you've ever eaten and consequently may or may not vomit.
Stupid songs from your past and insipid commercials will make you bawl... and you won't be able to control the blubbering for about an hour or two.
Sensitive teeth.
The craziest dreams you've EVER had, EVER!
Clumsiness: You can and will trip over absolutely nothing and possibly anything else as well.
And because of these things, on one particular nausea-filled evening,my husband asked me, "If it gets this bad, then why do you like being pregnant so much?"
Only a man would ask that question. I am sure all my pregnant-loving and baby-loving friends will get the joke. Let's not throw the baby out with bath water, right?
Ten Weeks down.
Thirty to go... And loving every second of it.
Wednesday, January 26, 2011
And Baby Makes Three
Some have heard and some have not, but soon my burgeoning belly and plump face will be undeniable; I am again with child, in a family way, bun in oven, knocked up, pregnant, expecting, or my favorite that I’ve recently come across that tickles me pinker than I usually find myself these days- “in a fix”. Yes, we are delighted to say that we are in quite a fix and will be welcoming our third little human at the end of August. So, to answer all the usual nosy inquisitiveness, not that it’s anyone’s business but our own, but I guess I don’t mind sharing at the moment (if this post ends up deleted then my brief open moment of sharing has come to a close), but yes, this was not unplanned in any way and we are thrilled probably against our better judgment about having a third child.
Most people these days, especially in this economy if they have children at all, stop at one or two. However, there seems to have been a recent resurgence of families containing three children or even more and according to an article I read in the Washington Post online, it seems that a general consensus on the matter is that families that decide to contribute extra to over populating are just show-offs in a sense; look how many children we can afford? Furthermore, I have read (and I believe it was in one of those magazines at the hair salon, so forgive me for not mentioning it by name) that because of the baby boom in Hollywood, young women have taken to the “fad” of child rearing. In my opinion this grossly ignores the intelligent, informed sector of young women who did not decide to procreate just because Britney Spears and Posh Spice decided to make having babies look easy and fashionable. Because it’s not easy. And no matter how many maternity stores now have clothes that look just like the clothes you were wearing previous to your blessed gift, I don’t see how joining the ranks of motherhood is, in and of itself, particularly fashionable. So, we are far from rich show offs, we are not poor, nor Catholic, nor are we fashionistas swayed by every new, new thing that flies in from the West. We are just us and this is what we want.
I’m not going to lie, though. Having my daughter kept me busy and after I had my son, I did have a slight breakdown the evening we brought him home from the hospital when both the children were crying and I had a moment of panic thinking my life would forever be imprisoned within that moment of exhaustion with a crying infant and two year old. It wasn’t. We worked out our system and busy is busy. And now for the next one. We have all heard (or at least I have) mothers say that once you’ve had one or two children, the rest is just gravy. You already have the stuff. You are already busy. You already have not slept since your third trimester with the first child, so really, what’s another little person to love and care for? It’s funny because in some digging about the number three (3, iii, III), it seems that in early civilizations there were possibly words for describing what amounts to or the quantities of one (1) and two (2), but anything after that is just “many”. It’s as though they started creating a mathematical system, a way of counting, and got to two and said, “Eh. That’s enough. Anything after the second one? It’s just a lot, it’s just more. No need to bother counting, you can all go home now.”
Of course, Baby is still very much easy to handle at the moment as long as I stay fed and get to go to bed at about 8:30, but pretty soon, the precious little one will be here and I am sure I will be singing quite a different tune about children in general and myself for being not as bright as I could have been in the heat of the moment that particular night. I do hope I remember when those nights of endless feedings and the days filled with driving everyone to school and appointments that I did ask for this and I will do my best to be thankful, mostly because I really am!
So, our family is once again growing and we are looking forward to a wonderful year filled with life and love and Baby 3.
Most people these days, especially in this economy if they have children at all, stop at one or two. However, there seems to have been a recent resurgence of families containing three children or even more and according to an article I read in the Washington Post online, it seems that a general consensus on the matter is that families that decide to contribute extra to over populating are just show-offs in a sense; look how many children we can afford? Furthermore, I have read (and I believe it was in one of those magazines at the hair salon, so forgive me for not mentioning it by name) that because of the baby boom in Hollywood, young women have taken to the “fad” of child rearing. In my opinion this grossly ignores the intelligent, informed sector of young women who did not decide to procreate just because Britney Spears and Posh Spice decided to make having babies look easy and fashionable. Because it’s not easy. And no matter how many maternity stores now have clothes that look just like the clothes you were wearing previous to your blessed gift, I don’t see how joining the ranks of motherhood is, in and of itself, particularly fashionable. So, we are far from rich show offs, we are not poor, nor Catholic, nor are we fashionistas swayed by every new, new thing that flies in from the West. We are just us and this is what we want.
I’m not going to lie, though. Having my daughter kept me busy and after I had my son, I did have a slight breakdown the evening we brought him home from the hospital when both the children were crying and I had a moment of panic thinking my life would forever be imprisoned within that moment of exhaustion with a crying infant and two year old. It wasn’t. We worked out our system and busy is busy. And now for the next one. We have all heard (or at least I have) mothers say that once you’ve had one or two children, the rest is just gravy. You already have the stuff. You are already busy. You already have not slept since your third trimester with the first child, so really, what’s another little person to love and care for? It’s funny because in some digging about the number three (3, iii, III), it seems that in early civilizations there were possibly words for describing what amounts to or the quantities of one (1) and two (2), but anything after that is just “many”. It’s as though they started creating a mathematical system, a way of counting, and got to two and said, “Eh. That’s enough. Anything after the second one? It’s just a lot, it’s just more. No need to bother counting, you can all go home now.”
Of course, Baby is still very much easy to handle at the moment as long as I stay fed and get to go to bed at about 8:30, but pretty soon, the precious little one will be here and I am sure I will be singing quite a different tune about children in general and myself for being not as bright as I could have been in the heat of the moment that particular night. I do hope I remember when those nights of endless feedings and the days filled with driving everyone to school and appointments that I did ask for this and I will do my best to be thankful, mostly because I really am!
So, our family is once again growing and we are looking forward to a wonderful year filled with life and love and Baby 3.
Sunday, January 2, 2011
And Suddenly I Awoke in 2011
My Gracious Friends,
It has been quite some time since I last wrote to you.
I could write one of those overbearing update blogs about how much the kids have grown, how busy I have been with them and family time and cooking, reading, cleaning, and holiday/birthday/general merriment, but frankly, I haven't the patience. And if I don't have the patience to sit and write it, then I wouldn't expect anyone to have the patience to sit and read it. Blah, blah, blah, am I right?
*Sigh*
So, we find ourselves here (or wherever you are), moving constantly forward. It's the New Year, a time of new beginnings and of shaking off the things of the past year that did not agree with us and a time to find resolve and determination. At least, that's how I look at it. I always seem to look back to the past year and feel as though I had accomplished nothing, as though I have nothing to show for myself, but it's far from the truth. Hopefully, we all have not only grown older, but wiser, more prone to smile, laugh a little easier, let the little things go and become more confident that those bigger things will truly work out for the best.
As cliche as it is, it is so for a reason, because it holds some truth. Life is far too short to live with regret, weighed down by circumstance. Take solace, My Friends, in each breath, find medicine in each laugh and the laughter of your children, find humor in the petty (and even the not so petty) annoyances and I think 2011 will be off to a very pleasant start!
Keep reading, keep laughing, keep loving!
I know I certainly will... More to come.
It has been quite some time since I last wrote to you.
I could write one of those overbearing update blogs about how much the kids have grown, how busy I have been with them and family time and cooking, reading, cleaning, and holiday/birthday/general merriment, but frankly, I haven't the patience. And if I don't have the patience to sit and write it, then I wouldn't expect anyone to have the patience to sit and read it. Blah, blah, blah, am I right?
*Sigh*
So, we find ourselves here (or wherever you are), moving constantly forward. It's the New Year, a time of new beginnings and of shaking off the things of the past year that did not agree with us and a time to find resolve and determination. At least, that's how I look at it. I always seem to look back to the past year and feel as though I had accomplished nothing, as though I have nothing to show for myself, but it's far from the truth. Hopefully, we all have not only grown older, but wiser, more prone to smile, laugh a little easier, let the little things go and become more confident that those bigger things will truly work out for the best.
As cliche as it is, it is so for a reason, because it holds some truth. Life is far too short to live with regret, weighed down by circumstance. Take solace, My Friends, in each breath, find medicine in each laugh and the laughter of your children, find humor in the petty (and even the not so petty) annoyances and I think 2011 will be off to a very pleasant start!
Keep reading, keep laughing, keep loving!
I know I certainly will... More to come.
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