Whew! Thanksgiving is officially over . . . I think. This one was a doozy, spread out over days. A lot of it wasn't actually Thanksgiving, of course, but it was a very long week of family related activities that has left me gasping for air and longing for sleep. I am so tired of running from one end of town to another, but it is sooooo hard for me to pass up a party, even a party of 3, that I kept driving and running and running and driving so that I could spend every spare minute with loved ones from far off places. All I want to do today is sleep, and blog, and grocery shop because there is absolutely no food in my house at all, oh - and make a trip to Garden Ridge to supplement some of my Christmas decorations, urgh and get Tyler ready for his big 3-day field trip tomorrow, and finish the laundry so I have another pair of jeans to wear today, and . . . you get the picture. Basically, I put the rest of my life on hold for an entire week in order to enjoy our families, but it was well worth it.
A few highlights:
1 - I got to hold my nephew. I only have one nephew as of this moment and he is 4 months old. Hadn't seen him since he was 2 weeks old because he lives with his parents in Clovis, NM. That's supposed to be an 8 hour drive, but we discovered this summer that with 2 preschoolers in the car it's really 10. Not just a hop, skip and a jump away. With 3 kids between us that are in school and split families and visits with fathers on both sides it's practically impossible to visit each other often. I was super excited to see the girls too, but holding this precious bundle with his chubby cheeks and thighs and super sweet smile was one of the most cherished moments of thankfulness I had this week. Oh - and by the way, he totally loves his Auntie Heather.
2 - We had 2 Thanksgiving dinners, one with my family on Wednesday and one with Scott's on Thursday. Both days were filled with lots of laughter and tons of love. There were loved ones missing on both sides, but we enjoyed the ones we had with us while we had them. The food was amazing and as usual, I was grateful for pumpkin pie and made-from-scratch whipped cream. I was also super thankful that my cousin, Veronica, made it out of the hospital in time to celebrate the holiday with us. 2 more cycles of chemo and hopefully she will be done - she's such a trooper!
3 - The kids behaved themselves - mostly. It was a lot of holiday and there were multiple meltdowns. Some were small, like when Scooter got upset at Thanksgiving because the grapes he wanted to eat were touching all the other fruit in the fruit salad bowl. Others were bigger and more exhausting, all related to very tired and overstimulated kids. The worst was Friday night at a restaurant where Scooter had just had enough and when his chocolate chip cookie didn't have enough chocolate chips, he just lost it. Crying so hard by the time we called an end to the madness to take him home that he made himself puke. I was horrified by his behavior, but I stayed calm and when we got home I did my best to enact some Love & Logic on his tiny, obnoxious butt. I told him he had made me sad because I had to leave my friends and dinner early by misbehaving and he had to pay for dinner. Since he didn't have any money he paid with his very favorite Buzz Lightyear toy. I also didn't let him come out of his room until he had fully calmed down and then apologized to both me and his father. It was a very long, stressful evening, but then my angel returned and stayed for the rest of the weekend. I am thankful for my angels, all 3 of them, even when they are obnoxious and over-tired.
4 - Riley was a mess. I mean really, this kid will be the death of me. After having a minor pouting session when I wouldn't let him raid Aunt Bonnie's fridge 5 minutes before the big dinner was served, we lost our kid. Couldn't find him anywhere. I told Scott he was mad at me and had probably stomped off to pout somewhere. I finally found him, totally calm and happy, but he had followed our host into his master bath when he went there to use the facilities. He was just talking away in the main part of the bathroom. Thank goodness for little door separators to the toilet! I don't know who was more embarrased, me or our host, certainly not Riley. This whole episode was followed by his biggest meltdown of the week when Scott wouldn't let him climb Bonnie's counters to search for his own drinking cup. Riley at 3 is definitely going to be my biggest challenge yet. But, I was thankful for the laughter because after I got over being embarrassed I laughed my butt off at his antics and knew I would be throwing this story back in his face when he's 15 and making me crazy about something else.
5 - I thoroughly enjoyed all the pop-in visits from friends throughout the week and a much-cherished holiday with a sweet foster-child of our dear friends/cousins who will be leaving to start a life with some distant family next week. Sometimes we only have a moment in time to love the ones we are with. Take it, seize it, make the most of it. And take the picture! I shared a video collage with one of my longtime friends this week who was having a rough holiday without hubby or kids after losing 3 close elderly family members within 2 weeks of eachother. She laughed at lots of goofy photos of me as a child in strange clothing and ridiculous hair. I told her that what I learned in the process of helping on that video 2 years ago was that it didn't matter how bad of a hair day you thought you were having, take the picture! Cuz in 20 years, you are going to look back at pictures from days where you thought you looked good and you are still going to hate your hair or clothes anyway. Take the picture, and be thankful you have them.
6 - Christmas began! I did my very first Black Friday shopping excursion ever and saved enough in the first 20 minutes to make it worth the early morning, freezing cold foray into the madness. I am only half-way finished with gift shopping, but I got most of the big stuff for way over half off the original price. Woohoo! I might be addicted since I absolutely love a bargain. If you aren't one of the crazy people standing in line for 3 hours to buy 5 HD televisions then it can be kind of a fun experience. Sunday afternoon was devoted to putting up Christmas lights outside our house and that night we decorated our tree (the new one that I got for 1/3 of original price!!!! :) ). It was insane to cram it into one day, but we had to do it while Scotty was home during daylight hours and Tyler was home for a weekend day. Things are about to get very busy and crazy in preparation for the big holiday, you gotta take the moments you are given. So thankful that we had the moments and time to do some of 'our' family stuff together as a family. The kids comments and faces when we were finished were well worth the effort!
7 - My brother and his family came in yesterday for a late visit since they couldn't travel during the holiday and I got to hold my newest niece, Jocelyn. At 6 weeks, she is just downright adorable. She smiled for me yesterday and I 'bounced/rocked' her to sleep twice last night at dinner. Worth all the extra driving to spend some time with Matthew, Tara and the baby. It was also my last chance to love on my Aunt Kaye before she heads back to Wisconsin on Wednesday. My favorite part of the day was when Riley decided he wanted to help me with the baby. He stood on a kitchen chair next to me with his arms around the baby, trying to help me 'bounce' the baby to sleep, whispering 'Calm down, calm down' to her over and over again. He wanted to hold her, but I had said he had to wait until she was asleep so as soon as she was out he tried to grab her right out of my arms on his own. Told you, death of me. I set him up on the couch and helped him hold her for a good 2 minutes before my back gave out and he was 'done'. I am so thankful for my brother who spent some serious quality time with Tyler last night while I played with his new daughter. Tyler really needed it since this fall has been so long and tough and he never seems to get enough time with his uncle. They played pool together and not only did Tyler finally get how to hold the cue and start playing pretty decent (long arms will do that for you, even when you are 10), but he attempted his first ever behind-the-back shot and made it! Way to go Tyler! And Way to go Uncle Matthew!
And boy, did Tyler need a night that seemed like it was about him for a change! He is surrounded in both his families by younger siblings and cousins. He missed most of our celebrations this week and has had only precious few moments to spend with Aunt Kaye while she was here. Even though he enjoyed his family time with his Dad, he always knows he is missing something and that's hard for him. But more than any of this, I am worried about my little man's heart right now. Turns out, it's breaking. I think that's a blog for another day, but let's just say he's having trouble with a couple of his friends and thinks he's losing their friendship. It was heartbreaking for me to see him cry, especially since he was leaving the next night again for days away from me. He's so sensitive and sweet. I am so thankful to God for bringing me this child, for making me a mother at a time when I didn't think I would ever make that choice intentionally, for blessing me with a reason to keep on going and moving and celebrating all the little moments He gives me.
I am so thankful for my family, near and far, living and living eternally; relations by blood, by marriage and by friendship; friendships current, past and long forgotten; friendships long cultivated and unexpected and lovingly cherished; new babies and 10 year olds; preschoolers, charming and obnoxious; mothers, mothers-in-law, and mothers that stand in when they need to; fathers and uncles and sisters and brothers; children, all the children, yours and mine.
I hope you all enjoyed your holiday as much as I did and I hope you are resting up for the next one like I am. My friend texted me Sunday night 'Are you ready to do this again in a month?' Heck no! It was exhausting. And of course, Heck yes! Cuz it's my favorite time of year and worth every moment of craziness and hard work.
Thanks and God Bless!
Tuesday, November 30, 2010
Tuesday, November 23, 2010
Look What I Made! . . .
When I started MOPS this year and all the steering members were getting up for their 3 minute run-down speeches spelling out plans for this season, the Creative Activities coordinators got up to tell us we were going to do some absolutely fabulous crafts this year. Right. On my first run of MOPS at a different church I remember thinking 'Crafts? You want me to make crafts? Are you crazy? Can't we just talk?' I thought, if I have to volunteer in the kids rooms for a meeting then I want to do it on a craft day, not a speaker day! I am soooo not 'crafty'. It didn't take long for me to realize that I had it all wrong. There are definitely speakers that it is totally okay to miss, but craft days are more fun. It wasn't that I was particularly good at the crafts (some days I barely had a workable end product, barely covering the basics), but you get to visit more with your group on craft days which I loved.
As much as I enjoyed the craft days, I didn't really get the purpose of them. Was there a reason for filling the moments? Mostly my group just wanted the chance to sip coffee and visit so why the attempts to fill our mornings? Did we absolutely need to have a purpose for that hour? So this craft coordinator got up this year and said 'Maybe you are wondering why we do a creative activity . . .' Yes! I am wondering! Tell me, tell me, tell me! She said a few things I don't remember, but the thing that stuck with me was that the main purpose was that we had an act of completion. Say again? As preschool parents, she said, it is so rare that we actually get to see a project through from beginning to end. Such a hard thing to do to actually complete something that is for us, not the kids. That's what the craft is for, being able to sit down and complete a task from start to finish at one sitting and have a fulfilling feeling of accomplishment. If only for a moment, you can look at something and say 'I did that. I made that.' Even if you never look at the silly thing you made ever again. Not too different than our preschoolers coming out of their classrooms and saying 'Mommy look what I made!' and then forgetting the picture they drew by the time you pull into the driveway.
This week I am looking out over the biggest project I ever attempted or completed and sighing with satisfaction. My 2 rooms are done! Woohoo! Four months of sweat and toil have resulted in 2 beautiful rooms that are complete! My kids are moved into their new bedroom, their two old rooms are currently a reorganized play room and office until I am ready to work on some more walls (after Christmas) and I am sitting in a nice cozy room again to blog to you with a scentsy candle burning and my legs curled up in my big soft office chair instead of leaning over the kitchen table at a laptop with a too small keyboard. Life is good today!
When we first started this project it was supposed to be simple: build a wall, put up a door and fix some cracks in the walls so I could paint. But nothing in my house or my life is ever really that simple. There were problems right away like the opening for the door didn't really have a jamb on one side so we were going to have to make one, solution: take out the entryway closet and make a jamb; matching textures on my walls, solution: retexture all the walls; matching up base moulding with new walls and doorway, solution: rip out all mouldings and replace with new. When we started demo it was clear right away that there was little worth saving and way more work to do than we ever thought.
My dad showed up once or twice a week for months to work on this massive undertaking and I am so grateful to him for sticking with me. I said the other day to him 'I think this is the biggest project I've ever done, what about you?' Him too. I think he's pretty proud of the results as well. We ran into problem after problem as we literally took most of 2 rooms down to studs and built them back up again, but we plowed through and got it done. And I learned a lot along the way:
1 - Having the right tool makes the job go a lot smoother! My dad invested some of his discretionary income in a couple of really cool power tools to do this project. Things he wanted anyway, but building walls was a good excuse. The Sawzall is amazing and will cut just about anything you want at almost any angle, metal or wood. The palm nailer for his compresser made nailing studs in tight corners a very doable feat. And I picked up some very cool and necessary things along the way as well. I rented this amazing nail gun that uses .22 shells to shoot nails into concrete one day. It was worth the extra trips to Home Depot and the extra expense to invest in a stud finder, electrical current readers and appropriately sized tape knives. My best investment though was $9.99 at Sherwin Williams for one of those cool color books with their entire color palette in one place. No more running to the store for color cards only to find out when you get home that you need one 2 shades lighter or with more blue in the greys or grey in the blues. Dad already had a compresser with 2 nail guns, a tile saw and a miter saw that he would bring over as needed. His small crowbar inherited from my grandpa's basement was used more than any other tool. We used both Scott's cordless drills, my dad's cordless drill and my grandfather's old electric drill to get the job done. After renting a power texture machine, my dad invested in his own for the next time around because he also wants to do a bunch of work at his house and texture where there is currently wallpaper. Things go smoother and faster when you have the right tool to do the job, even if you are renting it.
2 - Electrical doesn't have to be scary! I am a wimp when it comes to electrical wires and recently spent $200 to have an electrician come out and replace a metal box behind my dryer and tape over an exposed wire because I had no clue how to handle it myself. Never again. I learned how to replace outlets and switches and to feel comfortable stripping, cutting and clamping wires. I have a much better feel of how electric works and what to do when there is a problem. I don't have to live with the dingy off-white outlets in my house anymore - I can change them to whatever I want them to be and I don't have to call someone to help me. I can change out a light fixture without waiting for my hubby to come home and climb on the ladder to do it for me. I am WOMAN, hear me roar!
3 - Sometimes it's about who you know. When we took out the entryway closet we discovered that the air vent for the front room came down and curved through the closet with the vent box just plastered over. It was in the way and unsightly. It was also July in Texas and my air guy (an old family friend) was absolutely NOT going to go into my attic to move the vent until at least October. But I wasn't going to leave my entry way in studs for 3 months either. Scott's cousin's hubby came out one Sunday afternoon and moved the whole thing for us in about an hour without having to climb into the attic at all. I think he just stuck his head up through the hole in the ceiling a few times. He also decided to go ahead and move some of the electrical wiring for us that my dad and I were going to work on that week. I was so grateful since it was only a small delay and we could keep working. It was the only time we brought someone in the whole time, the rest of the work was done by dad and I and occasionally Scott.
4 - Flexibility is key. I can't tell you how many little roadblocks and problems we ran into along the way. Every step we made we ran into some kind of issue. There were so many things to work through and so many times we had to improvise. But we did. It sometimes meant delays or rethinking the project, but in the end it all worked out. We paused many times along the way to wait for deliveries of supplies, or to wait for the next payday because I had already exhausted that month's remodel budget, or wait for my neice to be born (since we were all on call to hit the road). Lots of delays, but we kept coming back and working on the next thing, the next stage. It was also well worth it to take our time. I tend to like to plow through and get things done quickly, but it was really good to take this thing one little step at a time and to sometimes only work once a week or every other week. It kept us from feeling too overwhelmed or overtired. It kept us fresh and clear headed.
5 - Nothing is perfect. I know where all the mistakes are. I know where every imperfection is. Some of them are obvious, like now that the walls and trim in the entryway aren't all dingy white you can actually tell that our house isn't straight. If you look closely it is very clear that the spacing isn't even between the front door and the windows. But that's the house and we did the best we could with it without replacing glass and door completely. It turns out that even if you are very careful to not have any bubbles or raises in your drywall tape, the moisture from texture and paint can seep through dried mud and sometimes put a bubble in after the fact (very frustrated with this, but will prime before texture in the next room to avoid. will also fix my bubbles at some point, but was more concerned with being done than fixing that small problem for the moment). For some reason when you lay wood floors yourself, no matter how tight you make the pieces while you are working, they will sometimes separate from each other after you have done 6 more rows and can't go back to fix them (very small gaps at a couple of points, but it was the first floor - prepared for the next room). I can't tell you how many times Scott came home and said 'Why . . .' and my answer was 'Our house is not level, plumb or square'. Cuz it's just not and a professional finishing carpenter can make it look like it is, but I'm not a professional. We did the actual construction level, but that doesn't mean it would look right with the house as settled as it was. We sometimes did things off-level so they looked better aesthetically, but those times were rare since it was more important for our elements to actually be level - like headers and doors. Sometimes working on a house that is 50 years old is just a problem all on it's own. There are little quirks all the way through, but overall it looks great which is the important part. We did the best we could with what we had and when you look at the rooms you don't see the mistakes. I just know they are there. Oh well.
6 - The toil is worth it. My dad would come over and we would work our tushes off on the big stuff and then he would go home. I was here to work out the details while he played with his dog and rested for the next big challenge. And there was a lot of detail work, especially towards the end. Dad helped me lay the big huge tiles in my entry way, but it was up to me to do the grout and then to clean up the grout. I had some issues with that since my grout spacing was bigger than I was used to and my tiles don't have clean hard edges. I spent almost an entire day scrubbing the lines and cleaning them up so it didn't look like a 7 year old did the grout job. My fingers were red and raw before I finished and that 54 square feet felt like a square mile. My body may slowly recover from installing the bamboo all in one day, but my fingers will never be the same. Fitting all the pieces together was tedious and painful, but going back and cleaning the glue out of cracks that we missed the first time was brutal. I think that I might have actually removed a fingerprint or two in the process and it will take a month for my fingernails to look decent again. I really don't want to look at a paintbrush again for a while. Between touch up paint and the elaborate 3 color design motif I put in the boys room and trim work, I am so tired of touching up paint I want to scream. But it looks gorgeous. Every part of it is beautiful and worth the aches and pains and headaches.
My kids will never really appreciate all the crazy hard work that went into their new bedroom. They won't ever really get how much pain their grandpa and their mom put their bodies through to get the job done. But they do know that we did it for them. They watched us work and asked questions and complained about the noisy tools. They really enjoyed having Grandpa here all the time. And so did I. Can I just tell you how amazing my dad is? He's crazy awesome! And I have so loved doing this project with him. When I was young I always loved working with him on something in the garage and helping him work on house projects. As I've aged I have occasionally helped him with projects at his house or asked him to help us with something here. Little did I know that I was going to get to do something so huge with him as an adult. My sister and dad built a planter stand a few years ago with the (at that time) new miter saw and I remember being jealous of their joint project but so proud of their work. The planter is now in my house, in my new entryway. Not sure how I got lucky enough to inherit it, but I love that it is here until Asheley someday asks for it back. I think Asheley was a little jealous of me this summer too while I got to work with our daddy on a project. It was just my turn, I guess.
So now, the work is done. Well, most of it. Technically, I still need to caulk all the moulding so you can't tell where the old walls bow and I haven't caulked the gap under the front door to match the tile grout. And then there's those stupid bubbles in my drywall to deal with. But, mostly we're done. Scott and I spent Saturday taking beds apart, moving them and putting them back together. We put felt circles under all the furniture so it doesn't scratch my fabulous Bamboo floor. I reorganized the back bedroom and turned it into an office. Yesterday I reorganized all the toys and turned the other bedroom into a temporary play room. We've crammed so much extra furniture into the 2 kids rooms, the kitchen and the living room the past few months that having things sorted out and organized makes my little house feel downright spacious right now. Scott said he was bragging about me at work the other day when we finished the bamboo floors because he couldn't believe we got so much done in one day. I tell him all the time that I am not the kind of woman who is going to sit around and learn to quilt or darn socks (does anyone still do that?) but I am the kind of woman who will rebuild a room in the house on my own without hiring someone. He's kind of getting used to me and my crazy ideas.
And there is still work to do. I have plans to build some furniture for the kids room and I need to decorate with new bedding and curtains. I find myself hesitant to hang pictures and decorations on walls because I really don't want to put holes in those walls that I worked so hard on, but eventually I will. I'm kind of thinking that those removable hanger things sound good for my Christmas decorations in the entryway although now that those particular walls are purple, I'm not sure how everything is going to look in there.
There have been people that thought I was crazy for putting all the boys together in one room, but the room is huge. There are 2 beds, 3 dressers and a tv-game set up in there and still tons of space to play cars on the new wood floor. It's not forever, but it works for now. Scooter is super happy to not be alone in a room anymore and it's working out well so far. There are now 2 extra rooms to cram furniture into when I start on the rest of the house. And the rest of the house won't be so crazy. Most of the rooms just need a face lift - patching drywall cracks, retexturing and painting then new floors and base boards. No major construction, at least until we get to the bathrooms. I am seriously considering replacing all the doors in the house as I go and I know I want to tile over the brick on my fireplace before I finally replace the mantle that fell down 2 years ago. Eventually it won't be just the 2 front rooms that look fabulous, it will be everything.
For now, I am super happy and satisfied with the accomplishment. I wish I could post the pictures here, but I still haven't gone out to purchase my SD/USB converter for my camera. If you found me on Facebook, you can go to my profile and view the mobile upload pictures I posted there the other day. The small imperfections in our work are nothing compared to the mess we started out with - huge gaping cracks in dingy dirty walls, old stinky carpet and vinyl layered over linoleum, a cramped entryway and a room without a purpose. I am so pleased with the completion of a project - a huge one. I get to look at it and say 'Look what I made!'.
Thanks and God Bless!
As much as I enjoyed the craft days, I didn't really get the purpose of them. Was there a reason for filling the moments? Mostly my group just wanted the chance to sip coffee and visit so why the attempts to fill our mornings? Did we absolutely need to have a purpose for that hour? So this craft coordinator got up this year and said 'Maybe you are wondering why we do a creative activity . . .' Yes! I am wondering! Tell me, tell me, tell me! She said a few things I don't remember, but the thing that stuck with me was that the main purpose was that we had an act of completion. Say again? As preschool parents, she said, it is so rare that we actually get to see a project through from beginning to end. Such a hard thing to do to actually complete something that is for us, not the kids. That's what the craft is for, being able to sit down and complete a task from start to finish at one sitting and have a fulfilling feeling of accomplishment. If only for a moment, you can look at something and say 'I did that. I made that.' Even if you never look at the silly thing you made ever again. Not too different than our preschoolers coming out of their classrooms and saying 'Mommy look what I made!' and then forgetting the picture they drew by the time you pull into the driveway.
This week I am looking out over the biggest project I ever attempted or completed and sighing with satisfaction. My 2 rooms are done! Woohoo! Four months of sweat and toil have resulted in 2 beautiful rooms that are complete! My kids are moved into their new bedroom, their two old rooms are currently a reorganized play room and office until I am ready to work on some more walls (after Christmas) and I am sitting in a nice cozy room again to blog to you with a scentsy candle burning and my legs curled up in my big soft office chair instead of leaning over the kitchen table at a laptop with a too small keyboard. Life is good today!
When we first started this project it was supposed to be simple: build a wall, put up a door and fix some cracks in the walls so I could paint. But nothing in my house or my life is ever really that simple. There were problems right away like the opening for the door didn't really have a jamb on one side so we were going to have to make one, solution: take out the entryway closet and make a jamb; matching textures on my walls, solution: retexture all the walls; matching up base moulding with new walls and doorway, solution: rip out all mouldings and replace with new. When we started demo it was clear right away that there was little worth saving and way more work to do than we ever thought.
My dad showed up once or twice a week for months to work on this massive undertaking and I am so grateful to him for sticking with me. I said the other day to him 'I think this is the biggest project I've ever done, what about you?' Him too. I think he's pretty proud of the results as well. We ran into problem after problem as we literally took most of 2 rooms down to studs and built them back up again, but we plowed through and got it done. And I learned a lot along the way:
1 - Having the right tool makes the job go a lot smoother! My dad invested some of his discretionary income in a couple of really cool power tools to do this project. Things he wanted anyway, but building walls was a good excuse. The Sawzall is amazing and will cut just about anything you want at almost any angle, metal or wood. The palm nailer for his compresser made nailing studs in tight corners a very doable feat. And I picked up some very cool and necessary things along the way as well. I rented this amazing nail gun that uses .22 shells to shoot nails into concrete one day. It was worth the extra trips to Home Depot and the extra expense to invest in a stud finder, electrical current readers and appropriately sized tape knives. My best investment though was $9.99 at Sherwin Williams for one of those cool color books with their entire color palette in one place. No more running to the store for color cards only to find out when you get home that you need one 2 shades lighter or with more blue in the greys or grey in the blues. Dad already had a compresser with 2 nail guns, a tile saw and a miter saw that he would bring over as needed. His small crowbar inherited from my grandpa's basement was used more than any other tool. We used both Scott's cordless drills, my dad's cordless drill and my grandfather's old electric drill to get the job done. After renting a power texture machine, my dad invested in his own for the next time around because he also wants to do a bunch of work at his house and texture where there is currently wallpaper. Things go smoother and faster when you have the right tool to do the job, even if you are renting it.
2 - Electrical doesn't have to be scary! I am a wimp when it comes to electrical wires and recently spent $200 to have an electrician come out and replace a metal box behind my dryer and tape over an exposed wire because I had no clue how to handle it myself. Never again. I learned how to replace outlets and switches and to feel comfortable stripping, cutting and clamping wires. I have a much better feel of how electric works and what to do when there is a problem. I don't have to live with the dingy off-white outlets in my house anymore - I can change them to whatever I want them to be and I don't have to call someone to help me. I can change out a light fixture without waiting for my hubby to come home and climb on the ladder to do it for me. I am WOMAN, hear me roar!
3 - Sometimes it's about who you know. When we took out the entryway closet we discovered that the air vent for the front room came down and curved through the closet with the vent box just plastered over. It was in the way and unsightly. It was also July in Texas and my air guy (an old family friend) was absolutely NOT going to go into my attic to move the vent until at least October. But I wasn't going to leave my entry way in studs for 3 months either. Scott's cousin's hubby came out one Sunday afternoon and moved the whole thing for us in about an hour without having to climb into the attic at all. I think he just stuck his head up through the hole in the ceiling a few times. He also decided to go ahead and move some of the electrical wiring for us that my dad and I were going to work on that week. I was so grateful since it was only a small delay and we could keep working. It was the only time we brought someone in the whole time, the rest of the work was done by dad and I and occasionally Scott.
4 - Flexibility is key. I can't tell you how many little roadblocks and problems we ran into along the way. Every step we made we ran into some kind of issue. There were so many things to work through and so many times we had to improvise. But we did. It sometimes meant delays or rethinking the project, but in the end it all worked out. We paused many times along the way to wait for deliveries of supplies, or to wait for the next payday because I had already exhausted that month's remodel budget, or wait for my neice to be born (since we were all on call to hit the road). Lots of delays, but we kept coming back and working on the next thing, the next stage. It was also well worth it to take our time. I tend to like to plow through and get things done quickly, but it was really good to take this thing one little step at a time and to sometimes only work once a week or every other week. It kept us from feeling too overwhelmed or overtired. It kept us fresh and clear headed.
5 - Nothing is perfect. I know where all the mistakes are. I know where every imperfection is. Some of them are obvious, like now that the walls and trim in the entryway aren't all dingy white you can actually tell that our house isn't straight. If you look closely it is very clear that the spacing isn't even between the front door and the windows. But that's the house and we did the best we could with it without replacing glass and door completely. It turns out that even if you are very careful to not have any bubbles or raises in your drywall tape, the moisture from texture and paint can seep through dried mud and sometimes put a bubble in after the fact (very frustrated with this, but will prime before texture in the next room to avoid. will also fix my bubbles at some point, but was more concerned with being done than fixing that small problem for the moment). For some reason when you lay wood floors yourself, no matter how tight you make the pieces while you are working, they will sometimes separate from each other after you have done 6 more rows and can't go back to fix them (very small gaps at a couple of points, but it was the first floor - prepared for the next room). I can't tell you how many times Scott came home and said 'Why . . .' and my answer was 'Our house is not level, plumb or square'. Cuz it's just not and a professional finishing carpenter can make it look like it is, but I'm not a professional. We did the actual construction level, but that doesn't mean it would look right with the house as settled as it was. We sometimes did things off-level so they looked better aesthetically, but those times were rare since it was more important for our elements to actually be level - like headers and doors. Sometimes working on a house that is 50 years old is just a problem all on it's own. There are little quirks all the way through, but overall it looks great which is the important part. We did the best we could with what we had and when you look at the rooms you don't see the mistakes. I just know they are there. Oh well.
6 - The toil is worth it. My dad would come over and we would work our tushes off on the big stuff and then he would go home. I was here to work out the details while he played with his dog and rested for the next big challenge. And there was a lot of detail work, especially towards the end. Dad helped me lay the big huge tiles in my entry way, but it was up to me to do the grout and then to clean up the grout. I had some issues with that since my grout spacing was bigger than I was used to and my tiles don't have clean hard edges. I spent almost an entire day scrubbing the lines and cleaning them up so it didn't look like a 7 year old did the grout job. My fingers were red and raw before I finished and that 54 square feet felt like a square mile. My body may slowly recover from installing the bamboo all in one day, but my fingers will never be the same. Fitting all the pieces together was tedious and painful, but going back and cleaning the glue out of cracks that we missed the first time was brutal. I think that I might have actually removed a fingerprint or two in the process and it will take a month for my fingernails to look decent again. I really don't want to look at a paintbrush again for a while. Between touch up paint and the elaborate 3 color design motif I put in the boys room and trim work, I am so tired of touching up paint I want to scream. But it looks gorgeous. Every part of it is beautiful and worth the aches and pains and headaches.
My kids will never really appreciate all the crazy hard work that went into their new bedroom. They won't ever really get how much pain their grandpa and their mom put their bodies through to get the job done. But they do know that we did it for them. They watched us work and asked questions and complained about the noisy tools. They really enjoyed having Grandpa here all the time. And so did I. Can I just tell you how amazing my dad is? He's crazy awesome! And I have so loved doing this project with him. When I was young I always loved working with him on something in the garage and helping him work on house projects. As I've aged I have occasionally helped him with projects at his house or asked him to help us with something here. Little did I know that I was going to get to do something so huge with him as an adult. My sister and dad built a planter stand a few years ago with the (at that time) new miter saw and I remember being jealous of their joint project but so proud of their work. The planter is now in my house, in my new entryway. Not sure how I got lucky enough to inherit it, but I love that it is here until Asheley someday asks for it back. I think Asheley was a little jealous of me this summer too while I got to work with our daddy on a project. It was just my turn, I guess.
So now, the work is done. Well, most of it. Technically, I still need to caulk all the moulding so you can't tell where the old walls bow and I haven't caulked the gap under the front door to match the tile grout. And then there's those stupid bubbles in my drywall to deal with. But, mostly we're done. Scott and I spent Saturday taking beds apart, moving them and putting them back together. We put felt circles under all the furniture so it doesn't scratch my fabulous Bamboo floor. I reorganized the back bedroom and turned it into an office. Yesterday I reorganized all the toys and turned the other bedroom into a temporary play room. We've crammed so much extra furniture into the 2 kids rooms, the kitchen and the living room the past few months that having things sorted out and organized makes my little house feel downright spacious right now. Scott said he was bragging about me at work the other day when we finished the bamboo floors because he couldn't believe we got so much done in one day. I tell him all the time that I am not the kind of woman who is going to sit around and learn to quilt or darn socks (does anyone still do that?) but I am the kind of woman who will rebuild a room in the house on my own without hiring someone. He's kind of getting used to me and my crazy ideas.
And there is still work to do. I have plans to build some furniture for the kids room and I need to decorate with new bedding and curtains. I find myself hesitant to hang pictures and decorations on walls because I really don't want to put holes in those walls that I worked so hard on, but eventually I will. I'm kind of thinking that those removable hanger things sound good for my Christmas decorations in the entryway although now that those particular walls are purple, I'm not sure how everything is going to look in there.
There have been people that thought I was crazy for putting all the boys together in one room, but the room is huge. There are 2 beds, 3 dressers and a tv-game set up in there and still tons of space to play cars on the new wood floor. It's not forever, but it works for now. Scooter is super happy to not be alone in a room anymore and it's working out well so far. There are now 2 extra rooms to cram furniture into when I start on the rest of the house. And the rest of the house won't be so crazy. Most of the rooms just need a face lift - patching drywall cracks, retexturing and painting then new floors and base boards. No major construction, at least until we get to the bathrooms. I am seriously considering replacing all the doors in the house as I go and I know I want to tile over the brick on my fireplace before I finally replace the mantle that fell down 2 years ago. Eventually it won't be just the 2 front rooms that look fabulous, it will be everything.
For now, I am super happy and satisfied with the accomplishment. I wish I could post the pictures here, but I still haven't gone out to purchase my SD/USB converter for my camera. If you found me on Facebook, you can go to my profile and view the mobile upload pictures I posted there the other day. The small imperfections in our work are nothing compared to the mess we started out with - huge gaping cracks in dingy dirty walls, old stinky carpet and vinyl layered over linoleum, a cramped entryway and a room without a purpose. I am so pleased with the completion of a project - a huge one. I get to look at it and say 'Look what I made!'.
Thanks and God Bless!
Friday, November 19, 2010
Thankful for Being Stressed? . . .
Thanksgiving is just a few days away - the Holidays are looming once again. Even though I love Christmas, I am not a huge fan of Thanksgiving. Not only do I just not like Turkey (love all the fixins, but bring on the ham!), it always seems like a super lot of work for such a small blip of time whereas the prep time for Christmas is spread out over weeks and then if you do it right the enjoyment of Christmas gets to be spread out over several days. I love the food, yes, but all the cooking and then the cleaning up for a 20 minute meal is just crazy to me. It also seems weird to me that we focus on being thankful this one day of the year since I try to be thankful for what I have every day. And then, of course, there is the obvious thing for me that Christmas is a spiritual day and Thanksgiving is not.
For a few years stretch, when Tyler was little, my parents were always gone on Thanksgiving. My dad has traditionally went hunting in Wisconsin that week and as we got older my mom traveled with him to visit family. So I would find myself a single mom with Tyler alone for the week and because I wasn't really doing anything I would send Tyler off to his dad's for the holiday every year. Thanksgiving would dawn and while other families were scrambling to get Turkeys in ovens, stuffing made and pies cooling, I slept in. My uncle Greg used to always have to work on Thanksgiving and his family would go to Gainesville for the day to be with Lynda's family. For a couple of years, I would go pick him up from work and we'd go have lunch together at a restaurant - one year we went to a very authentic chinese place for some fabulous food - no turkey. After I took him back to work, I would go to a movie (movie theatres are great on Thanksgiving). Later I would drive myself over to my friend Claudia's house and nibble on leftovers and pie with my second family. Asheley did this with me one year, but mostly I did it on my own. Those were actually some of my favorite Thanksgiving holidays. No muss, no fuss.
But now I am a married woman with 2 more children and even more family members to consider. My parents don't travel for the holiday much anymore and Scott's family usually gathers at his grandmother's house in Cedar Creek. We do our best to fit all family in, but it's extremely difficult to shuffle everyone around and please everyone. And no matter what I do, we are always missing something. If you know me at all, you know that I hate to miss anything, any party, any family gathering. Last year we ended up with almost the perfect holiday - Scott ran the Turkey Trot in the early morning then we gathered at mom's for a Thanksgiving brunch (ham, potato dumplings, stuffing, fabulous!), I took a nap on mom's bed with all 3 of my kiddos then got up to make a dish to take to Scott's Aunt Bonnie's for a full dinner with his family. We didn't miss anything or anybody! Couldn't ask for more! I didn't have to feel guilty that we missed something and the kids got to be with all families. Pretty darn awesome.
I wish more holidays could be that way. I spend an awful lot of time each year trying to figure out how to make everything work and keep everyone happy for the holidays. In addition to negotiating two families events so that my marriage stays happy, I also have to figure in Tyler's schedule with his dad. And that's the rub - because as much as I hate to miss something, I hate it when my kid misses something more. And he's ALWAYS missing something. If he's with his dad he's missing our get togethers and if he's with me he's missing theirs. I can usually find a way at Christmas to get Tyler time with everyone on my side even if it means stepping on some toes or leaving places early for exchanges, but you do what you gotta do! Still, no matter how diplomatic or fair I try to be, someone's feelings always get hurt, someone's always annoyed with me or thinks I should do it differently or better. Easy for them to say - they aren't living my life!
About 2 weeks before Thanksgiving my stomach starts hurting and I start getting headaches. As much as I love having family get togethers, I dread the stress of making it all work. I start asking about family plans way before people are actually ready to make decisions because I know I've got to figure it all out. And even though I love Christmas more than anything in the world, some of the joy has been stripped for me because of trying to make all the logistics work and be an advocate for my kid that isn't here all the time. Holidays shouldn't be this stressful! And I'm not even talking about finding time and money for gift shopping or making cookies, I'm just talking family-time management.
Through the years, I have learned one key lesson in all this - Let go of the Day. The actual day that we celebrate is not as important as getting together and celebrating in some way on a day somewhere close to the actual holiday. It doesn't matter if we have Thanksgiving dinner on the last Thursday of the month, just so we get together and have it. Same goes for Christmas. Santa has come to our house early the last 3 years so that Tyler can open gifts with his brothers before he goes off to his dad's and still have some time to enjoy his gifts before leaving. My parents have also learned this lesson and been extremely gracious about it. Traditionally our family has celebrated Christmas on Christmas Eve, but as soon as I married Scott they gave that up so that we could go to a big extended family get together for his family every year on that night. They are super awesome to just make things work when they can work.
And even though it's been an adjustment for my in-laws, they too have made sacrifices and schedule changes to accomodate our craziness. My sister-in-law is now having to make similar schedule miracles with her split and blended family so we are lucky if we are all together at any one time around a holiday, but we do our best to make it happen as best we can. Brian and I have a really good working relationship as far as Tyler's schedule goes, but there are still occasional hurt feelings or disappointment on both sides because at the end of the day we both want him with us. He has siblings both places he should get to enjoy and be with. He has 4 sets of grandparents to try and make happy. When things don't go the perfect, ideal way, I find myself chanting under my breath 'let go of the day, let go of the day, let go of the day'.
In addition to letting go, I also do my best to focus on the most important parts of a holiday instead of all the commercial craziness that can come with it. This year for Thanksgiving we have the added special company of my Aunt Kaye from Wisconsin. Normally I would be putting my foot down with my husband and insisting we celebrate Thanksgiving with my family so that we could be with her, but my mom is so awesome she is having Thanksgiving a day early so that we can do both. Tyler will be with his dad, so again someone is missing, but the rest of us will get a full day to focus on each family and when Tyler comes home on Friday we will make sure to spend a full day with each family again over the weekend.
After the disastrous end to my Christmas tree last year, I had really wanted to plan a family outing to East Texas to cut down our own real tree this year, but with all the family holiday broo-ha-ha and alternating weekends with Tyler I was forced to make a choice between going to get the tree on the one day we could do it or another event. I have chosen to just buy another pre-lit tree so that we can go as a family to a local church and do and Advent family craft. We will be making 18 ornaments as a family that represent different Bible stories from Creation to the Birth of Christ. Starting our holiday season with the real reason in mind is more important to me than an outing to East Texas, that can wait a year or two.
For once the school calendar is finally cooperating with the legal custody agreements of half the nation and Tyler can actually go to his dad's for the week leading up to Christmas (it's literally been years, I always have to let him go the week after which limits our Christmas celebration time with him and it's supposed to alternate). I will get him back sometime on Christmas Eve which means I will be leaving the big family party at Scott's Aunt Bonnie's early again (already preparing for the guilt, the boos and the disappointment of missing my turn for Dirty Santa game), but for once my kids will get to enjoy a Christmas morning all together on the actual morning. We haven't done that since Scooter was an infant. So happy for Scotty on this one since he's been a real trooper giving up his tradition as well. My parents usually try to show up for the kids big Christmas here and then later we will go to Scott's mom for a whole other Christmas Day throw down and then dinner with all their cousins. Last year we just couldn't make an alternate day work for Tyler so he missed the whole thing and opened his presents there almost 2 weeks after Christmas.
I am hopeful that this year is better than last since I am not working full time and can actually devote myself to some baking and enjoying the kids excitement. I am hoping that I can do Christmas shopping some other time than at midnight without my hubby to help and that this year when I sit down in front of the presents just itching to be opened I will actually get through the story of Christ's birth to my preschoolers who barely acknowledged my presence last year in their excitement. I am remaining hopeful.
And I am also remaining Thankful. Thankful that some of my friends and family who have been battling cancers and illnesses are still with us to celebrate. Thankful that even though I don't always have Tyler with me, he is always with family that loves him. Thankful that Scott and I have found some kind of balance for family holidays that doesn't leave us resentful. Thankful that my entire family is healthy and happy and fairly well adjusted. Thankful that both Scott and I have been blessed with a new niece and a new nephew (and a new cousin) to add to our family celebrations and joys. Thankful that we are employed and fairly stable and that we have completed the 4 month remodel project on 2 rooms (only 7 more to go :) ). Thankful that people are actually fighting over having us with them instead of fighting to have us as far away from them as possible (insert giggle). Thankful that the problem we face is not that there isn't family to celebrate with but too much family to choose from and try to make happy. Thankful that the problem we have is that there is just too much fun to be had, not the other way around. Thankful, just Thankful.
Thanks and God Bless!
For a few years stretch, when Tyler was little, my parents were always gone on Thanksgiving. My dad has traditionally went hunting in Wisconsin that week and as we got older my mom traveled with him to visit family. So I would find myself a single mom with Tyler alone for the week and because I wasn't really doing anything I would send Tyler off to his dad's for the holiday every year. Thanksgiving would dawn and while other families were scrambling to get Turkeys in ovens, stuffing made and pies cooling, I slept in. My uncle Greg used to always have to work on Thanksgiving and his family would go to Gainesville for the day to be with Lynda's family. For a couple of years, I would go pick him up from work and we'd go have lunch together at a restaurant - one year we went to a very authentic chinese place for some fabulous food - no turkey. After I took him back to work, I would go to a movie (movie theatres are great on Thanksgiving). Later I would drive myself over to my friend Claudia's house and nibble on leftovers and pie with my second family. Asheley did this with me one year, but mostly I did it on my own. Those were actually some of my favorite Thanksgiving holidays. No muss, no fuss.
But now I am a married woman with 2 more children and even more family members to consider. My parents don't travel for the holiday much anymore and Scott's family usually gathers at his grandmother's house in Cedar Creek. We do our best to fit all family in, but it's extremely difficult to shuffle everyone around and please everyone. And no matter what I do, we are always missing something. If you know me at all, you know that I hate to miss anything, any party, any family gathering. Last year we ended up with almost the perfect holiday - Scott ran the Turkey Trot in the early morning then we gathered at mom's for a Thanksgiving brunch (ham, potato dumplings, stuffing, fabulous!), I took a nap on mom's bed with all 3 of my kiddos then got up to make a dish to take to Scott's Aunt Bonnie's for a full dinner with his family. We didn't miss anything or anybody! Couldn't ask for more! I didn't have to feel guilty that we missed something and the kids got to be with all families. Pretty darn awesome.
I wish more holidays could be that way. I spend an awful lot of time each year trying to figure out how to make everything work and keep everyone happy for the holidays. In addition to negotiating two families events so that my marriage stays happy, I also have to figure in Tyler's schedule with his dad. And that's the rub - because as much as I hate to miss something, I hate it when my kid misses something more. And he's ALWAYS missing something. If he's with his dad he's missing our get togethers and if he's with me he's missing theirs. I can usually find a way at Christmas to get Tyler time with everyone on my side even if it means stepping on some toes or leaving places early for exchanges, but you do what you gotta do! Still, no matter how diplomatic or fair I try to be, someone's feelings always get hurt, someone's always annoyed with me or thinks I should do it differently or better. Easy for them to say - they aren't living my life!
About 2 weeks before Thanksgiving my stomach starts hurting and I start getting headaches. As much as I love having family get togethers, I dread the stress of making it all work. I start asking about family plans way before people are actually ready to make decisions because I know I've got to figure it all out. And even though I love Christmas more than anything in the world, some of the joy has been stripped for me because of trying to make all the logistics work and be an advocate for my kid that isn't here all the time. Holidays shouldn't be this stressful! And I'm not even talking about finding time and money for gift shopping or making cookies, I'm just talking family-time management.
Through the years, I have learned one key lesson in all this - Let go of the Day. The actual day that we celebrate is not as important as getting together and celebrating in some way on a day somewhere close to the actual holiday. It doesn't matter if we have Thanksgiving dinner on the last Thursday of the month, just so we get together and have it. Same goes for Christmas. Santa has come to our house early the last 3 years so that Tyler can open gifts with his brothers before he goes off to his dad's and still have some time to enjoy his gifts before leaving. My parents have also learned this lesson and been extremely gracious about it. Traditionally our family has celebrated Christmas on Christmas Eve, but as soon as I married Scott they gave that up so that we could go to a big extended family get together for his family every year on that night. They are super awesome to just make things work when they can work.
And even though it's been an adjustment for my in-laws, they too have made sacrifices and schedule changes to accomodate our craziness. My sister-in-law is now having to make similar schedule miracles with her split and blended family so we are lucky if we are all together at any one time around a holiday, but we do our best to make it happen as best we can. Brian and I have a really good working relationship as far as Tyler's schedule goes, but there are still occasional hurt feelings or disappointment on both sides because at the end of the day we both want him with us. He has siblings both places he should get to enjoy and be with. He has 4 sets of grandparents to try and make happy. When things don't go the perfect, ideal way, I find myself chanting under my breath 'let go of the day, let go of the day, let go of the day'.
In addition to letting go, I also do my best to focus on the most important parts of a holiday instead of all the commercial craziness that can come with it. This year for Thanksgiving we have the added special company of my Aunt Kaye from Wisconsin. Normally I would be putting my foot down with my husband and insisting we celebrate Thanksgiving with my family so that we could be with her, but my mom is so awesome she is having Thanksgiving a day early so that we can do both. Tyler will be with his dad, so again someone is missing, but the rest of us will get a full day to focus on each family and when Tyler comes home on Friday we will make sure to spend a full day with each family again over the weekend.
After the disastrous end to my Christmas tree last year, I had really wanted to plan a family outing to East Texas to cut down our own real tree this year, but with all the family holiday broo-ha-ha and alternating weekends with Tyler I was forced to make a choice between going to get the tree on the one day we could do it or another event. I have chosen to just buy another pre-lit tree so that we can go as a family to a local church and do and Advent family craft. We will be making 18 ornaments as a family that represent different Bible stories from Creation to the Birth of Christ. Starting our holiday season with the real reason in mind is more important to me than an outing to East Texas, that can wait a year or two.
For once the school calendar is finally cooperating with the legal custody agreements of half the nation and Tyler can actually go to his dad's for the week leading up to Christmas (it's literally been years, I always have to let him go the week after which limits our Christmas celebration time with him and it's supposed to alternate). I will get him back sometime on Christmas Eve which means I will be leaving the big family party at Scott's Aunt Bonnie's early again (already preparing for the guilt, the boos and the disappointment of missing my turn for Dirty Santa game), but for once my kids will get to enjoy a Christmas morning all together on the actual morning. We haven't done that since Scooter was an infant. So happy for Scotty on this one since he's been a real trooper giving up his tradition as well. My parents usually try to show up for the kids big Christmas here and then later we will go to Scott's mom for a whole other Christmas Day throw down and then dinner with all their cousins. Last year we just couldn't make an alternate day work for Tyler so he missed the whole thing and opened his presents there almost 2 weeks after Christmas.
I am hopeful that this year is better than last since I am not working full time and can actually devote myself to some baking and enjoying the kids excitement. I am hoping that I can do Christmas shopping some other time than at midnight without my hubby to help and that this year when I sit down in front of the presents just itching to be opened I will actually get through the story of Christ's birth to my preschoolers who barely acknowledged my presence last year in their excitement. I am remaining hopeful.
And I am also remaining Thankful. Thankful that some of my friends and family who have been battling cancers and illnesses are still with us to celebrate. Thankful that even though I don't always have Tyler with me, he is always with family that loves him. Thankful that Scott and I have found some kind of balance for family holidays that doesn't leave us resentful. Thankful that my entire family is healthy and happy and fairly well adjusted. Thankful that both Scott and I have been blessed with a new niece and a new nephew (and a new cousin) to add to our family celebrations and joys. Thankful that we are employed and fairly stable and that we have completed the 4 month remodel project on 2 rooms (only 7 more to go :) ). Thankful that people are actually fighting over having us with them instead of fighting to have us as far away from them as possible (insert giggle). Thankful that the problem we face is not that there isn't family to celebrate with but too much family to choose from and try to make happy. Thankful that the problem we have is that there is just too much fun to be had, not the other way around. Thankful, just Thankful.
Thanks and God Bless!
Sunday, November 14, 2010
The Bliss of a Quiet Morning . . .
It's extremely quiet in my house right now. I am the only one up at the crack of dawn on a Sunday morning and even the dogs aren't stirring yet and bugging me to let them in and out of the back door. It's peaceful and calm and it's just me. I didn't have a reason for getting up, unless you count the 3 year old who crawled in bed with me at 4 am and proceeded to push against my back until I barely had any room, but he's still sleeping and I could have adjusted and rolled over and got in some more snooze time.
I am not a morning person - I generally need about a gallon of coffee to really get moving and I tend to growl at people if I haven't gotten enough zzz's. But after being a mom for over 10 years, I don't sleep late really well anymore. Generally though, I am excited to get to sleep until 8 or 9 on a weekend day if the opportunity presents itself. But sometimes on a weekend, I will have a morniing just like this one. A morning where I wake before seven and don't have the urge to just roll over and wait for the kids to get me up. I am sufficiently slept out and the call of the quiet is enough to make me roll out of bed and enjoy the peace of my house.
Scott doesn't get it of course, his life plan seems to be to sleep as long as he can on any given non-work day and I try not to rob him of that too much. If he wakes up out of habit or because a dog barks or a kid crawls over him, he just rolls over and wills himself back to sleep. And most weekend days it's the kids who force me from the coziness of my bed, but sometimes I just want it to be me.
I really enjoy just sitting here alone, drinking my coffee and doing whatever it is that I am in the mood for that day. Some days I will turn the tv on very low and watch an old movie or a recorded show that no one else is interested in. Sometimes I will take the opportunity to read since running after 2 preschoolers every day makes it hard for me to get through 2 paragraphs at a time between requests for milk and fights over toys. There are mornings I get out my current cross stich project and get some long overdue work done. Maybe I'll get out a paintbrush and work on the touch ups in my project room or maybe I'll just lie on the couch and think about how crazy my week has been. I will play a computer card game or read through my email or search Craigs List for the perfect bunk bed or desk. Or I'll blog my way through the quiet.
The thing is, this is a quiet I rarely get to see once my family is up and moving around. Even when my kids are napping or quietly playing together or watching a movie - it's not the same. Once they are out of bed in the morning my 'mommy' switch flips on and I am acutely aware of what they need and where they are. I will find myself in the zone of what needs to be done and struggle with the idea of it being okay to do nothing or do something for me. When I find time for a 'mommy's night out', I am always aware of the clock and my need to be home at some point because even though I am having a good time, I miss my family and am always ready to go home to them. Finding quiet moments that are just for me are very rare.
I love these kinds of mornings and I do everything I can to stretch them out. I shut doors and keep all sounds low and unobtrusive. I make sure all kids are warm and covered and their rooms are as dark as possible. I try to ensure they sleep as long as possible. And when one of them wanders out, as Riley just did now, they always seem to catch my mood. They stay quieter, ask for something softly and then snuggle into the couch or to me and just enjoy the peace as well. I think that they intuitively know what I know - if I get a morning like this, the whole day just goes better.
Why is that? I think it's because by the time they all get up I am more centered and more myself. I am more prepared to face the day and all the challenges of being a mommy. I got 2 hours or 15 minutes to just be Heather again, to focus on something other than their needs. I got to recharge and refocus. I am more prepared to handle the 'NO, NOW's' and 'BUT I WANT TO's' of my kids and I am more ready to tackle the million things on my ever-lengthening to-do list.
I get more out of a quiet morning like this than a night out or an hour massage. I am more me after a quiet start to the day than I ever am after getting a manicure or having lunch with a friend or getting a MOPS morning twice a month. Not that I don't enjoy those things! And sometimes I definitely need some time away from the house too. I just think that I get more for my money through these kinds of mornings.
I used to think my own mom was a crazy woman. During the week, she would get up super early, a full 2 hours sometimes before she had to get the three of us monsters up for school. She would start laundry and pick up around the house. She would get her shower in and visit with my dad before he left for work which was extremely early in the morning. Now looking back I don't think I know everything she did with that time, but I think I get it. She kept kids in our house and she had 3 of her own. Her day started officially by 6:30 most mornings and didn't end until we all finally finished homework and officially stayed in bed. No wonder she wanted that extra time to herself in the mornings. She was a pro at sleeping in on the weekends though - it was usually our dad who was up first as we grew up, turning on some good music in the living room and making himself breakfast.
The thing about being a stay-at-home mom is that your work place IS your home place and sometimes finding a way to unwind and relax is near to impossible. You are always ON DUTY and you are always ON. There's no end to the work day and no real weekend because one day looks just like the next. And even when I worked full time and I was always grateful for a day to sleep in, I still occasionally searched for a morning like this one. Because when I got off of work and was home with my kids for 2 days, they were so anxious to spend every moment with me that I didn't get any peace that way either and there was always so much to do in my off time that I was still on duty. Being a mom is just hard, I don't care who you are or how you do it!
Anyway, I hope that you as a mom have a method to peace like I do. Maybe you think I am crazy for actually trying to be up before everyone else is or maybe you are nodding your head and thinking 'okay, I get that'. You know what works for you, just like I have found what works for me. I will be a happier mom today, no matter what hits me. I will be more focused and get more accomplished in less time. I will feel better prepared for the week and everything that is headed my way. And all because I got to sit alone in a super quiet house with my coffee for an hour and a half this morning. There is nothing quite as good for me as a quiet morning.
Thanks and God Bless!
I am not a morning person - I generally need about a gallon of coffee to really get moving and I tend to growl at people if I haven't gotten enough zzz's. But after being a mom for over 10 years, I don't sleep late really well anymore. Generally though, I am excited to get to sleep until 8 or 9 on a weekend day if the opportunity presents itself. But sometimes on a weekend, I will have a morniing just like this one. A morning where I wake before seven and don't have the urge to just roll over and wait for the kids to get me up. I am sufficiently slept out and the call of the quiet is enough to make me roll out of bed and enjoy the peace of my house.
Scott doesn't get it of course, his life plan seems to be to sleep as long as he can on any given non-work day and I try not to rob him of that too much. If he wakes up out of habit or because a dog barks or a kid crawls over him, he just rolls over and wills himself back to sleep. And most weekend days it's the kids who force me from the coziness of my bed, but sometimes I just want it to be me.
I really enjoy just sitting here alone, drinking my coffee and doing whatever it is that I am in the mood for that day. Some days I will turn the tv on very low and watch an old movie or a recorded show that no one else is interested in. Sometimes I will take the opportunity to read since running after 2 preschoolers every day makes it hard for me to get through 2 paragraphs at a time between requests for milk and fights over toys. There are mornings I get out my current cross stich project and get some long overdue work done. Maybe I'll get out a paintbrush and work on the touch ups in my project room or maybe I'll just lie on the couch and think about how crazy my week has been. I will play a computer card game or read through my email or search Craigs List for the perfect bunk bed or desk. Or I'll blog my way through the quiet.
The thing is, this is a quiet I rarely get to see once my family is up and moving around. Even when my kids are napping or quietly playing together or watching a movie - it's not the same. Once they are out of bed in the morning my 'mommy' switch flips on and I am acutely aware of what they need and where they are. I will find myself in the zone of what needs to be done and struggle with the idea of it being okay to do nothing or do something for me. When I find time for a 'mommy's night out', I am always aware of the clock and my need to be home at some point because even though I am having a good time, I miss my family and am always ready to go home to them. Finding quiet moments that are just for me are very rare.
I love these kinds of mornings and I do everything I can to stretch them out. I shut doors and keep all sounds low and unobtrusive. I make sure all kids are warm and covered and their rooms are as dark as possible. I try to ensure they sleep as long as possible. And when one of them wanders out, as Riley just did now, they always seem to catch my mood. They stay quieter, ask for something softly and then snuggle into the couch or to me and just enjoy the peace as well. I think that they intuitively know what I know - if I get a morning like this, the whole day just goes better.
Why is that? I think it's because by the time they all get up I am more centered and more myself. I am more prepared to face the day and all the challenges of being a mommy. I got 2 hours or 15 minutes to just be Heather again, to focus on something other than their needs. I got to recharge and refocus. I am more prepared to handle the 'NO, NOW's' and 'BUT I WANT TO's' of my kids and I am more ready to tackle the million things on my ever-lengthening to-do list.
I get more out of a quiet morning like this than a night out or an hour massage. I am more me after a quiet start to the day than I ever am after getting a manicure or having lunch with a friend or getting a MOPS morning twice a month. Not that I don't enjoy those things! And sometimes I definitely need some time away from the house too. I just think that I get more for my money through these kinds of mornings.
I used to think my own mom was a crazy woman. During the week, she would get up super early, a full 2 hours sometimes before she had to get the three of us monsters up for school. She would start laundry and pick up around the house. She would get her shower in and visit with my dad before he left for work which was extremely early in the morning. Now looking back I don't think I know everything she did with that time, but I think I get it. She kept kids in our house and she had 3 of her own. Her day started officially by 6:30 most mornings and didn't end until we all finally finished homework and officially stayed in bed. No wonder she wanted that extra time to herself in the mornings. She was a pro at sleeping in on the weekends though - it was usually our dad who was up first as we grew up, turning on some good music in the living room and making himself breakfast.
The thing about being a stay-at-home mom is that your work place IS your home place and sometimes finding a way to unwind and relax is near to impossible. You are always ON DUTY and you are always ON. There's no end to the work day and no real weekend because one day looks just like the next. And even when I worked full time and I was always grateful for a day to sleep in, I still occasionally searched for a morning like this one. Because when I got off of work and was home with my kids for 2 days, they were so anxious to spend every moment with me that I didn't get any peace that way either and there was always so much to do in my off time that I was still on duty. Being a mom is just hard, I don't care who you are or how you do it!
Anyway, I hope that you as a mom have a method to peace like I do. Maybe you think I am crazy for actually trying to be up before everyone else is or maybe you are nodding your head and thinking 'okay, I get that'. You know what works for you, just like I have found what works for me. I will be a happier mom today, no matter what hits me. I will be more focused and get more accomplished in less time. I will feel better prepared for the week and everything that is headed my way. And all because I got to sit alone in a super quiet house with my coffee for an hour and a half this morning. There is nothing quite as good for me as a quiet morning.
Thanks and God Bless!
Thursday, November 4, 2010
Not 'MY' Kid . . .
You never think it'll be your kid that will be a problem. No matter how much you know that you are not perfect and that your parenting techniques have flaws and that you know you screw up on a daily basis, you think that overall you have good kids and your kids will probably make good choices and not cause major problems. Until they make unwise choices and cause problems.
Not that my kids are making really bad choices or causing huge problems YET. I'll admit to being worried though. Because once the sweet little cuties that you tearfully send off to kindergarten get a little bigger, they truly are on their own and responsible for themselves. They really don't tell you everything and the kid you see at home isn't necessarily the kid they are out in the real world all the time.
It's not a secret that we have been struggling this year with Tyler's school work and situation. The stress and the frustration have had me considering options for his education that I would have previously thought inconceivable for me. I've been strenuously trying to not jump off a cliff and instead put one foot in front of the other to find answers to my questions and not make things worse. It's a parenting battle that I wasn't prepared for, that I didn't see coming. Tyler's always been so good at school and loved learning so much that I didn't forsee having a problem with school, maybe ever. But prepared for it or not, I am facing it every day right now.
In an effort to go slowly and arm myself with information before I made any dramatic changes, I requested a parent-teacher conference with all 3 of his teachers. I went in nervous, but armed with a list of questions, ideas and quite a bit of self-righteous pride and a feeling of looking for justice. I was going to make those teachers see the truth! Ahh, but how the mighty have fallen. God has humbled me this week, taught me that even though I think I know my children, I am not always privy to the truth either.
I opened the meeting by explaining to the teachers how much stress Tyler was under and how the stress was showing itself by Tyler acting out more at home. I was ready to launch into my list of reasons for the stress and what I thought could be done about it on their end when they took the wind right out of my sails. They had noticed a change in Tyler too. Tyler was acting out at school now, getting more vocal and physical. He's very verbal anyway, they said, but now when he was frustrated or disagreed with someone he was getting louder and more aggressive with his friends and sometimes even doing things like pushing them while making his point. I'm sorry - WHAT? Not bad enough to send him to the office yet, but something they had to bring to his attention and correct on an almost daily basis.
When were they going to tell me? If I hadn't requested the conference, I might never have known this was happening until it got to the point where he was sent to the office for pushing too hard or fighting or something worse. I was angry that I hadn't been told about the behavior previously. But, I was also humbled. Tyler has never been an aggressive kid. He's a boy and can be rough, but he shies away from a fight usually. For him to be acting in this way makes me want to cry because I wonder what he's not telling me about how he's feeling. What's making him react this way and what do I need to do to help him?
The rest of the conference went well, but I was also distressed to learn that Tyler's attention drifts in class. Staying focused is a problem, but all present thought it was coming from boredom. Once Tyler has a concept down, he doesn't want to pay attention anymore, thinks that he can zone out and not perk up again until the teacher moves on to something else. One of the major themes with Tyler seems to be that he 'gets' it, he knows he 'gets' it, the teachers know he 'gets' it, but he doesn't always want to show them by completing his work that he 'gets' it. His excessive homework isn't what is being assigned each night, it's the daily work he's not finishing in class because he isn't staying focused and on task. And then there are the endless organizational challenges.
I left the school more confused than when I went in. I had been prepared to pull Tyler from his Magnet school to lighten his load before I went, but by the time I got home I knew that wasn't the answer. Less challenging work is not going to be helpful for Tyler. Keeping him interested and engaged is going to be a challenge, but essential. He asked me repeatedly that night and the next morning to tell him what had happened in the conference, but I held off talking to him until last night.
I needed to think things through and figure out where to start on helping Tyler. So last night we sat down very calmly and began a discussion and process that lasted a couple of hours. It was emotionally exhausting for both of us. I told him what they had said about his actions. At first he was full of denials, telling me they all had it backwards. So all 3 teachers and 1 aide are seeing something completely wrong Tyler? He was so sad, hiding his face, always worried about disappointing us. I stayed calm and told him he wasn't in trouble and no one was angry with him. We were just worried. We had a long discussion about proportional responses and how lately his reactions were way over the top even at home. At school these reactions are resulting in more arguments with his friends and inappropriate behavior there, but at home the results are more back-talk and attitude, more fights with his brothers, less patience. I wasn't sure I was doing this right, but when Tyler took a bathroom break Scott paused in cleaning up the kitchen to tell me I was doing a great job. The proportional discussion was the right tack to take. That was all the encouragement I needed to keep trudging through.
We talked about his focus and about showing his work and why those things were important. He opened up to me about all kinds of things that were going on with his work that even his teachers hadn't mentioned. We went through his binder and reorganized and simplified. We came up with a game plan and made a checklist for the front of his binder to help him remember what needed to be done every day. He went off to school this morning so much more confident. I know we have a long road ahead of us still, but I think last night was huge.
And I think my kid was reassured to know that he wasn't alone. All he hears at school anymore is how he needs to be responsible for himself. When he forgets things here, even though we try to help him, he has known that he was responsible. But what Tyler didn't get was that it didn't all have to be completely on his shoulders. He didn't know that it was okay to use tools to help him remember even though we have tried to give him those tools. He didn't really get that he could share with me what his struggles were without worrying I would be disappointed or angry, even though I give him every opportunity for that. He felt alone. Even though I have done everything I could to show him differently, Tyler felt alone because he's the kind of kid that internalizes absolutely everything.
This morning at breakfast Tyler told me that he thought it would be good if every afternoon he told me how is day was and about each class so that I would understand and know since I wasn't there with him. It would also probably help him remember what he needed to do at night because he would be thinking about the whole day instead of just what was written down in his binder. It kind of cracked me up. After all, every single day when he comes home from school I ask him how his day was and what he needs to do, but his answer is always something like 'fine, I guess'. It's not like I haven't been doing the right stuff, we have just been misfiring somewhere.
The teachers were all in unanimous agreement that Tyler is extremely intelligent and that his reading level is literally off the charts high, he gets math intuitively without having to think about it, he loves anything hands on in science and is the most engaged at that time. He needs more to keep his interest going and if we can get him through this year and next then when he gets to middle school he will probably do great with pre-AP classes. When I had been walking into school I ran into his 3rd grade teacher who asked what I was doing there. When I told her Tyler was struggling so I had requested a conference, Ms. Patterson said 'Well, you know Tyler is such a high-level thinker that he will occasionally have problems fitting into the system, the standard formula, but you are doing the exact right thing to help him by being here and asking questions.' I was really grateful for her encouragement because I know she knows Tyler as a student better than anyone.
And it's true that Tyler won't always fit into the system, I get that, which is why I have been researching homeschooling even though I swore I would never want to do that. We aren't there yet and I am not sure it's a solution that would work for us anyway, but it's an option for keeping him challenged. At the end of the night, I told Tyler that I knew it was frustrating being told what he needed to learn and to not have choices. This is something that didn't bother him as a small child, but as he grows it's becoming more obvious. When he's a little older he will have the opportunity to choose electives which will help. On his REACH days, he gets to choose a 9-week special interest to study which he loves. This time he chose Sign Language and it amazed me how much he picked up and remembered with just the first 45 minute lesson. When he's interested and engaged he is so intense. He's been bugging me for months to get him materials to learn Spanish or to put him in a class for it, telling me that we should do it now because he will absorb more while he's younger. Hard to argue with that logic, but our time schedule has been so limited because of homework time that I couldn't see getting it in. I told him last night that if he started to stay more focused at school and get more done during the day so there was less homework then he can choose something to learn at home. Spanish! At least it's something I can teach him. Show me that we can get this under control and make some progress and then I will devote some time to Spanish with you. He was excited and I think it will help to have something to motivate him.
We're going to get through this, and hopefully Tyler will learn some invaluable skills along the way. Hopefully his love of learning will stay in tact and he will continue to care about his work. But it's still frustrating when you discover that your kid isn't entirely what you thought he was. That he isn't telling you every single little thing anymore. That he could very easily turn into 'THAT' kid. How little of a turn here could make him become the kid that fights at school or never does his homework or skates by and does the bare minimum. What little twist or influence will inspire him to make a wrong choice like swiping the keys and crashing the car as a teenager or turn into a bully because he's bored with classes and needs something to entertain him during his long school days? I still think Tyler is a wonderful kid and I still want to believe that I am doing everything I can to help him make responsible choices and that he will stay a good kid. But I am a little bit more wary and wise this week, knowing that it isn't always advisable to constantly believe 'not MY kid' regarding just about anything.
Thanks and God Bless!
Not that my kids are making really bad choices or causing huge problems YET. I'll admit to being worried though. Because once the sweet little cuties that you tearfully send off to kindergarten get a little bigger, they truly are on their own and responsible for themselves. They really don't tell you everything and the kid you see at home isn't necessarily the kid they are out in the real world all the time.
It's not a secret that we have been struggling this year with Tyler's school work and situation. The stress and the frustration have had me considering options for his education that I would have previously thought inconceivable for me. I've been strenuously trying to not jump off a cliff and instead put one foot in front of the other to find answers to my questions and not make things worse. It's a parenting battle that I wasn't prepared for, that I didn't see coming. Tyler's always been so good at school and loved learning so much that I didn't forsee having a problem with school, maybe ever. But prepared for it or not, I am facing it every day right now.
In an effort to go slowly and arm myself with information before I made any dramatic changes, I requested a parent-teacher conference with all 3 of his teachers. I went in nervous, but armed with a list of questions, ideas and quite a bit of self-righteous pride and a feeling of looking for justice. I was going to make those teachers see the truth! Ahh, but how the mighty have fallen. God has humbled me this week, taught me that even though I think I know my children, I am not always privy to the truth either.
I opened the meeting by explaining to the teachers how much stress Tyler was under and how the stress was showing itself by Tyler acting out more at home. I was ready to launch into my list of reasons for the stress and what I thought could be done about it on their end when they took the wind right out of my sails. They had noticed a change in Tyler too. Tyler was acting out at school now, getting more vocal and physical. He's very verbal anyway, they said, but now when he was frustrated or disagreed with someone he was getting louder and more aggressive with his friends and sometimes even doing things like pushing them while making his point. I'm sorry - WHAT? Not bad enough to send him to the office yet, but something they had to bring to his attention and correct on an almost daily basis.
When were they going to tell me? If I hadn't requested the conference, I might never have known this was happening until it got to the point where he was sent to the office for pushing too hard or fighting or something worse. I was angry that I hadn't been told about the behavior previously. But, I was also humbled. Tyler has never been an aggressive kid. He's a boy and can be rough, but he shies away from a fight usually. For him to be acting in this way makes me want to cry because I wonder what he's not telling me about how he's feeling. What's making him react this way and what do I need to do to help him?
The rest of the conference went well, but I was also distressed to learn that Tyler's attention drifts in class. Staying focused is a problem, but all present thought it was coming from boredom. Once Tyler has a concept down, he doesn't want to pay attention anymore, thinks that he can zone out and not perk up again until the teacher moves on to something else. One of the major themes with Tyler seems to be that he 'gets' it, he knows he 'gets' it, the teachers know he 'gets' it, but he doesn't always want to show them by completing his work that he 'gets' it. His excessive homework isn't what is being assigned each night, it's the daily work he's not finishing in class because he isn't staying focused and on task. And then there are the endless organizational challenges.
I left the school more confused than when I went in. I had been prepared to pull Tyler from his Magnet school to lighten his load before I went, but by the time I got home I knew that wasn't the answer. Less challenging work is not going to be helpful for Tyler. Keeping him interested and engaged is going to be a challenge, but essential. He asked me repeatedly that night and the next morning to tell him what had happened in the conference, but I held off talking to him until last night.
I needed to think things through and figure out where to start on helping Tyler. So last night we sat down very calmly and began a discussion and process that lasted a couple of hours. It was emotionally exhausting for both of us. I told him what they had said about his actions. At first he was full of denials, telling me they all had it backwards. So all 3 teachers and 1 aide are seeing something completely wrong Tyler? He was so sad, hiding his face, always worried about disappointing us. I stayed calm and told him he wasn't in trouble and no one was angry with him. We were just worried. We had a long discussion about proportional responses and how lately his reactions were way over the top even at home. At school these reactions are resulting in more arguments with his friends and inappropriate behavior there, but at home the results are more back-talk and attitude, more fights with his brothers, less patience. I wasn't sure I was doing this right, but when Tyler took a bathroom break Scott paused in cleaning up the kitchen to tell me I was doing a great job. The proportional discussion was the right tack to take. That was all the encouragement I needed to keep trudging through.
We talked about his focus and about showing his work and why those things were important. He opened up to me about all kinds of things that were going on with his work that even his teachers hadn't mentioned. We went through his binder and reorganized and simplified. We came up with a game plan and made a checklist for the front of his binder to help him remember what needed to be done every day. He went off to school this morning so much more confident. I know we have a long road ahead of us still, but I think last night was huge.
And I think my kid was reassured to know that he wasn't alone. All he hears at school anymore is how he needs to be responsible for himself. When he forgets things here, even though we try to help him, he has known that he was responsible. But what Tyler didn't get was that it didn't all have to be completely on his shoulders. He didn't know that it was okay to use tools to help him remember even though we have tried to give him those tools. He didn't really get that he could share with me what his struggles were without worrying I would be disappointed or angry, even though I give him every opportunity for that. He felt alone. Even though I have done everything I could to show him differently, Tyler felt alone because he's the kind of kid that internalizes absolutely everything.
This morning at breakfast Tyler told me that he thought it would be good if every afternoon he told me how is day was and about each class so that I would understand and know since I wasn't there with him. It would also probably help him remember what he needed to do at night because he would be thinking about the whole day instead of just what was written down in his binder. It kind of cracked me up. After all, every single day when he comes home from school I ask him how his day was and what he needs to do, but his answer is always something like 'fine, I guess'. It's not like I haven't been doing the right stuff, we have just been misfiring somewhere.
The teachers were all in unanimous agreement that Tyler is extremely intelligent and that his reading level is literally off the charts high, he gets math intuitively without having to think about it, he loves anything hands on in science and is the most engaged at that time. He needs more to keep his interest going and if we can get him through this year and next then when he gets to middle school he will probably do great with pre-AP classes. When I had been walking into school I ran into his 3rd grade teacher who asked what I was doing there. When I told her Tyler was struggling so I had requested a conference, Ms. Patterson said 'Well, you know Tyler is such a high-level thinker that he will occasionally have problems fitting into the system, the standard formula, but you are doing the exact right thing to help him by being here and asking questions.' I was really grateful for her encouragement because I know she knows Tyler as a student better than anyone.
And it's true that Tyler won't always fit into the system, I get that, which is why I have been researching homeschooling even though I swore I would never want to do that. We aren't there yet and I am not sure it's a solution that would work for us anyway, but it's an option for keeping him challenged. At the end of the night, I told Tyler that I knew it was frustrating being told what he needed to learn and to not have choices. This is something that didn't bother him as a small child, but as he grows it's becoming more obvious. When he's a little older he will have the opportunity to choose electives which will help. On his REACH days, he gets to choose a 9-week special interest to study which he loves. This time he chose Sign Language and it amazed me how much he picked up and remembered with just the first 45 minute lesson. When he's interested and engaged he is so intense. He's been bugging me for months to get him materials to learn Spanish or to put him in a class for it, telling me that we should do it now because he will absorb more while he's younger. Hard to argue with that logic, but our time schedule has been so limited because of homework time that I couldn't see getting it in. I told him last night that if he started to stay more focused at school and get more done during the day so there was less homework then he can choose something to learn at home. Spanish! At least it's something I can teach him. Show me that we can get this under control and make some progress and then I will devote some time to Spanish with you. He was excited and I think it will help to have something to motivate him.
We're going to get through this, and hopefully Tyler will learn some invaluable skills along the way. Hopefully his love of learning will stay in tact and he will continue to care about his work. But it's still frustrating when you discover that your kid isn't entirely what you thought he was. That he isn't telling you every single little thing anymore. That he could very easily turn into 'THAT' kid. How little of a turn here could make him become the kid that fights at school or never does his homework or skates by and does the bare minimum. What little twist or influence will inspire him to make a wrong choice like swiping the keys and crashing the car as a teenager or turn into a bully because he's bored with classes and needs something to entertain him during his long school days? I still think Tyler is a wonderful kid and I still want to believe that I am doing everything I can to help him make responsible choices and that he will stay a good kid. But I am a little bit more wary and wise this week, knowing that it isn't always advisable to constantly believe 'not MY kid' regarding just about anything.
Thanks and God Bless!
Wednesday, November 3, 2010
Welcome to Crazyville . . .
Right. So we know we are crazy, live in crazy and do ridiculously crazy things around here in the Barrow household on a daily basis. On Friday though, the crazy found a new level of mania.
Let me set the scene for you.
After payday Thursday, I decided that the dogs really needed a bath and they desperatley need their nails clipped. Since bathing dogs is not something I consider fun and because they won't let me anywhere near their paws with a nail clipper, I knew I was going to need professional help. And honestly, Bella's haircut from mom this summer wasn't terrible, but it wasn't great either so as it grows out it looks worse than before. She really needs a shave by someone who knows what they are doing. Because I don't have time in my schedule to haul them to Lewisville to see Jenifer (Tyler's step-mom), I decided PetSmart would be sufficient. I called to make them appointments.
When I got the appointments made, I remembered that Bella was supposed to get her rabies shot this summer and if I didn't get that taken care of, PetSmart wasn't going to clean her up. Brewer is on a puppy insurance plan that covers all his vaccinations, but he was due for a shot as well. I called the vet (also at PetSmart - Banfield) and attempted to fit in both dogs visits into my ridiculous schedule prior to the grooming appointments on Monday. My options were 2 separate appointments on Saturday or a joint appointment Friday afternoon. I knew there wouldn't be time for me to drive back and forth twice on Saturday with all the errands I had to run in preparation for Riley's Sunday birthday party. So my wonderful, multi-tasking brain decided it would be a great idea to combine the appointments and go that very afternoon.
Okay, here in crazyville I admit that I don't always think everything through. Sometimes the multi-tasking part of me is just overpowering and tells the sane part of my brain that I can handle just about anything. Hitting 4 birds with 1 stone is always better - or so I occasionally let myself believe. It didn't occur to me at any point in this process that I could actually change the grooming appointment to later in the week to make things easier on myself. At no time did I actually stop to consider how exactly I was going to pull off this feat, I just naturally assumed that I would pull it off.
So when Tyler got home that afternoon, I piled all 3 kids and 2 dogs into the car and headed to the vet's office. While I was enroute, it finally hit me that I wasn't exactly sure how I was going to get us all safely across the parking lot and through a store that was going to make both dogs completely nuts with their need to smell just about everything in their path. No extra adult to help. Hmmm - conundrum. Tyler and I ran through multiple scenarios and possible solutions, most of which involved him hanging out with Bella and possibly one kid in front of the store while I parked and brought the rest of the crew up to the door. We lucked out though and got a parking spot right in front. No parking lot crossing required which was good because just getting everyone out of the car and safely onto the sidewalk was a workout. Now, the store.
Bella is normally very good through this process. She's been through it enough and she's a very well behaved dog. She gets excited, yes, and has to be reminded that I am there, but I could take her anywhere and make it work. Brewer - that's another story. He's still very much a puppy. A very large puppy. And he doesn't listen to me very well which is why I am currently researching dog obedience classes in the area to get him some more training and get him used to obeying me, not just Scott. He did the puppy training thing and most of it works, but I am with him all day and he doesn't think I am the boss. He's a major handful in public and can almost pull your arm from your socket trying to get to everything he wants to check out.
The doors of PetSmart opened and I reminded all the kids that we were heading straight to the back to the vet counter. The dogs took off and we tried to follow. Brewer greeted everyone he saw with excessive exuberance and it took all my attention and strength to keep him from jumping up on everyone's chest and knocking them over. Scooter and Riley trudged along, trying to avoid getting trampled by the dogs or knocked over by constantly overcrossing leashes. Bella was a lot harder to handle for Tyler than usual since Brewer was there. She was trying to run interference for Brewer and making his job harder than it had to be as well. I was already frazzled and out of breath by the time we made it to the counter. I looked at the nurse and said 'I'm gonna need to put Brewer in a room as quickly as possible. Can we weigh him and then do our check-in?' She agreed and somehow I got Brewer to stay on the scale for more than 2 seconds and led him to an exam room, pulling the door shut behind him as fast as I could. I turned to Bella.
Normally Bella does the scale thing easy as pie, but she was not really listening to Tyler so I took over. A woman checking out on the far side of the counter started suggesting different obedience schools to me while I fought with Bella. Bella would get on the scale easy enough, but she wouldn't hold still and would hop right back off. It took about 6 tries to get her actual weight. And the whole time this stranger is talking to me about some dog trainer who used to train wolves and can handle any dog, yada yada yada. I politely said, yes I am looking for another option for the Boxer you just saw and will check that out.
Then the woman comes over to me and tries to instruct me on how to hold Bella's leash. Really? This dog is not the problem! It's the other one! I said 'she's fine, she's just overexcited because she has never been here with the other dog before'. I repeated this several times while she tried to take my dog's leash and show me how proficient she was. By the time she was trying to show me her mastery of dogs, the weigh-in was over and Bella was sitting next to my leg, calmly panting and smiling, being patient with a completely lax leash between us. The obedience guru didn't notice that though and tried to take her leash from me. I finally just got very firm and said 'Bella is perfectly well behaved. She's just very excited today because this is a new situation for her with the puppy here. Thank you.' and took Bella to the same exam room, shutting the door behind both dogs now.
Looking back, I can kind of see how it looked to her. Here was this little woman with hair flying around trying to corral 3 kids and 2 dogs. Bella weighed in at 92 pounds and Brewer at almost 76. Tyler was doing his best with Bella, but she didn't have her normal leash and it was way too long to keep her under control for him. Riley was wearing shorts paired with his long sleeved Buzz Lightyear pajama shirt, slightly too small, that he had refused to take off all day and he had his blanket around his shoulders, secured with a safety pin so that he had a cape on. He kept turning in circles, looking over his shoulder so he could see the cape fly. Scooter was dressed normally, but was carrying the handle to a light saber. Just the handle. The plastic blade part had broken off, but the handle still lit up and made credible light saber noises. Every time someone came near us he was making jedi poses with his saber and giving people the 'I am a Jedi, Don't mess with me' look. Crazy. I am sure I looked like I couldn't handle anything at that point.
It took me, Tyler and a nurse to get all of us in the exam room without dogs escaping. I got the kids seated on a bench and turned to talk with the nurse. I was trying to keep Brewer still while she checked his temperature, unsuccessfully, when the door cracked open. The pushy woman from the lobby reached her hand inside the door to give me a piece of paper with the obedience school information on it. Pushy, pushy, pushy (I probably will check it out but only because I was already looking, not because she said to!). The staff decided 3 different times that it was better to take Brewer to the back to get things done for him. More hands on deck, I guess. Every time someone new walked into the room, I looked up and smiled and said 'Welcome to Crazy'. The first time the vet came in and I said this, she said 'Oh no, they're fine . . .' Brewer wasn't in the room. He was getting a heart worm sample taken in the back. She left to check on him and then when she returned she told me 'He's nuts. I mean completely nutty.'
So now the real battle begins. After telling me that Brewer was perfectly proportioned, in perfect health and ready for breeding, we moved on to Bella. Poor Bella. No wonder she didn't want to get on the scale - every time we go we get to hear how overweight and unhealthy she is. When I first got everyone settled in the room the nurse had commented on the dogs playing together so well. I said something to the effect of her having more energy now that I took her off of diet dog food. I got the first, expected, LOOK. The look that says 'you are a terrible doggy momma to have let your dog get to this point. You must be doing absolutely everything wrong for her to look like this.' That look. Scotty doesn't get it, but he has only taken Bella to the vet once or twice for her leg chewing. The nurse started in on the whiny 'but it's so bad for them, for their hearts, to be like this'. My look must have been sufficiently evil in response because she ran away and didn't bring it up again.
But the battle was waiting for me anyway and I knew it because I have been fighting it for over 3 years. I used to be sufficiently shamed when the vets and nurses would start their guilt trips and lectures and gave me the LOOK. I would go home and try everything they suggested and feel like I could make some progress. But nothing has ever worked and no one has ever really LISTENED to me about Bella. I don't think they believed that she ever moved at home or really got any excersize. I think they were considering whether or not I let Bella eat our meals with us at the table even though we have never given her table scraps willingly (I have had 2 babies since we got her though - she has gotten her fair share of dropped food, I won't lie, but it's been in tiny bits for short bursts). Anyway, shame is no longer a part of my emotional make-up where Bella is concerned. I know her. They don't.
So when the vet finished telling me how wonderful Brewer was in the health and weight department and turned to Bella and said 'BUT . . .' I put my hand up and said 'I am not fighting this battle anymore. I know what her weight is. It never really changes. She is what she is and I love her.' I was probably rude, but really after just getting us all in the door I was already tired. I didn't want to fight anymore. I have been through every question, every lecture, every possible experience with this dog's weight. I couldn't take it anymore. If the vet was going to give me crap, I was just about to say 'just give her the shots and I'm leaving'. She didn't though, she brought up what the nurse had told her about the diet food. So I cut her off and said something like the following:
Yes, I have taken her off of the diet food. It happened by accident while we were on vacation this summer and didn't have time to shop for it before we left, but when she had been on regular food again for a couple of weeks her energy was higher and she was happier so I just stuck with it. She's done prescription diet food and regular diet food. She's been on a diet for over 3 years. Before that she always had measured portions, we don't leave food out for her all day. She gets plenty of excersize (witness her currently jumping and playing with Brewer while we talk). We didn't do this to her. It's how she is. She's a quarter Blue Heeler and has the wide build and short legs of that breed. If she was a full bred Golden with the length and height of a Golden, her weight would be perfect, but it isn't. I am done fighting. She is what she is and I am not putting her on another diet. She's never lost more than 2-3 pounds on one and since she's been on regular food she's probably only gained 2 pounds. So forget it, it's a closed issue.
When I paused for breath the vet asked me if we had ever had her thyroid tested. No, I said, even though I have been asking for that for over 2 years. Everyone always said I had to do this or that first and we weren't there yet. They wouldn't do it. She said the best words ever 'I will'. Yay! Awesome! The test was going to take 30 minutes and could we wait? When I said yes, we were planning on going next door to get something and I was going to leave the dogs in the van for that anyway, she said 'Would you like to leave them here while you shop? Then we'll get the test run and you can come back for them.' I was grinning and nodding my darn fool head off, and Scooter piped in and said 'I don't want to stay here, I want to go with you mommy'. I guess he thought I was going to leave the kids there too. The vet assured him that they didn't do kids, just dogs & cats, and off we went.
I took my kids to Michael's and Target and then we walked back to PetSmart. Riley was still in his cape and was now slowing us down by trying to see the shadow his cape was making in the sunlight. Scooter startled someone coming out a door by firing up his light saber and making a ready-to-strike pose. Tyler asked a million questions about Bella's test, worried this would mean she was sick. I reassured him that if I was right (and Lord knows I KNEW I was right) Bella would actually start to feel better.
When we got back to the counter, the vet came out smiling and said 'Bella is definitely VERY Hypo-Thyroid.' Woohoo! I have never been so happy about a diagnosis in my life. No more evil 'you are a bad doggy momma' looks! So a prescription and plan of action ensued. Very excited chattering between me, the vet and one of the nurses. Someone brought Bella out to me before I could suggest that we do this in stages. Tyler took her leash and as I was pulling out my credit card to pay for our visit I heard him say 'Um, Mom - Look at Riley.' I turned around and there was my child, standing in the middle of PetSmart, with his pants and underwear pulled down around his ankles for no apparent reason. Man, just when I was starting to look sorta sane!
We did make it back to the car without losing any dogs, kids or limbs. We did make it home during which drive I called my sister to exclaim 'Bella's Hypo-Thyroid! Yay!' We sat down to dinner with Scott and related the story to him. He laughed his butt off at me and all the antics and said he wished he could have been a fly on the wall. I have sworn off ever taking the two of them ANYWHERE at the same time again by myself. Well, at least until I can teach Brewer some manners. Monday morning I cancelled their grooming appointments. I'll reschedule this week, but in stages. Even if it means extra driving and no multi-tasking, it will be better for my sanity if they go separately.
The funny thing is though, I think it was because I had Brewer with me that we finally got somewhere with Bella. Bella usually is so good at the vet that she just sits there or lies there patiently, letting them do whatever they want. So when I say to them 'She plays, she excersizes, she's active' they don't believe me. But this time they saw her jumping all over Brewer and playing non-stop while we were in the office. We have fed Brewer and Bella identically and Brewer is perfectly proportioned which showed that we didn't suck as doggy-parents. I won't ever attempt this again, unless they are both old and slow and calm, but I will always be glad I did it this one time. It's probably really good that I didn't bring the kitten at the same time though. If I had, Brewer would have torn up their whole office trying to play with her. Talk about Crazy!
Thanks and God Bless!
Let me set the scene for you.
After payday Thursday, I decided that the dogs really needed a bath and they desperatley need their nails clipped. Since bathing dogs is not something I consider fun and because they won't let me anywhere near their paws with a nail clipper, I knew I was going to need professional help. And honestly, Bella's haircut from mom this summer wasn't terrible, but it wasn't great either so as it grows out it looks worse than before. She really needs a shave by someone who knows what they are doing. Because I don't have time in my schedule to haul them to Lewisville to see Jenifer (Tyler's step-mom), I decided PetSmart would be sufficient. I called to make them appointments.
When I got the appointments made, I remembered that Bella was supposed to get her rabies shot this summer and if I didn't get that taken care of, PetSmart wasn't going to clean her up. Brewer is on a puppy insurance plan that covers all his vaccinations, but he was due for a shot as well. I called the vet (also at PetSmart - Banfield) and attempted to fit in both dogs visits into my ridiculous schedule prior to the grooming appointments on Monday. My options were 2 separate appointments on Saturday or a joint appointment Friday afternoon. I knew there wouldn't be time for me to drive back and forth twice on Saturday with all the errands I had to run in preparation for Riley's Sunday birthday party. So my wonderful, multi-tasking brain decided it would be a great idea to combine the appointments and go that very afternoon.
Okay, here in crazyville I admit that I don't always think everything through. Sometimes the multi-tasking part of me is just overpowering and tells the sane part of my brain that I can handle just about anything. Hitting 4 birds with 1 stone is always better - or so I occasionally let myself believe. It didn't occur to me at any point in this process that I could actually change the grooming appointment to later in the week to make things easier on myself. At no time did I actually stop to consider how exactly I was going to pull off this feat, I just naturally assumed that I would pull it off.
So when Tyler got home that afternoon, I piled all 3 kids and 2 dogs into the car and headed to the vet's office. While I was enroute, it finally hit me that I wasn't exactly sure how I was going to get us all safely across the parking lot and through a store that was going to make both dogs completely nuts with their need to smell just about everything in their path. No extra adult to help. Hmmm - conundrum. Tyler and I ran through multiple scenarios and possible solutions, most of which involved him hanging out with Bella and possibly one kid in front of the store while I parked and brought the rest of the crew up to the door. We lucked out though and got a parking spot right in front. No parking lot crossing required which was good because just getting everyone out of the car and safely onto the sidewalk was a workout. Now, the store.
Bella is normally very good through this process. She's been through it enough and she's a very well behaved dog. She gets excited, yes, and has to be reminded that I am there, but I could take her anywhere and make it work. Brewer - that's another story. He's still very much a puppy. A very large puppy. And he doesn't listen to me very well which is why I am currently researching dog obedience classes in the area to get him some more training and get him used to obeying me, not just Scott. He did the puppy training thing and most of it works, but I am with him all day and he doesn't think I am the boss. He's a major handful in public and can almost pull your arm from your socket trying to get to everything he wants to check out.
The doors of PetSmart opened and I reminded all the kids that we were heading straight to the back to the vet counter. The dogs took off and we tried to follow. Brewer greeted everyone he saw with excessive exuberance and it took all my attention and strength to keep him from jumping up on everyone's chest and knocking them over. Scooter and Riley trudged along, trying to avoid getting trampled by the dogs or knocked over by constantly overcrossing leashes. Bella was a lot harder to handle for Tyler than usual since Brewer was there. She was trying to run interference for Brewer and making his job harder than it had to be as well. I was already frazzled and out of breath by the time we made it to the counter. I looked at the nurse and said 'I'm gonna need to put Brewer in a room as quickly as possible. Can we weigh him and then do our check-in?' She agreed and somehow I got Brewer to stay on the scale for more than 2 seconds and led him to an exam room, pulling the door shut behind him as fast as I could. I turned to Bella.
Normally Bella does the scale thing easy as pie, but she was not really listening to Tyler so I took over. A woman checking out on the far side of the counter started suggesting different obedience schools to me while I fought with Bella. Bella would get on the scale easy enough, but she wouldn't hold still and would hop right back off. It took about 6 tries to get her actual weight. And the whole time this stranger is talking to me about some dog trainer who used to train wolves and can handle any dog, yada yada yada. I politely said, yes I am looking for another option for the Boxer you just saw and will check that out.
Then the woman comes over to me and tries to instruct me on how to hold Bella's leash. Really? This dog is not the problem! It's the other one! I said 'she's fine, she's just overexcited because she has never been here with the other dog before'. I repeated this several times while she tried to take my dog's leash and show me how proficient she was. By the time she was trying to show me her mastery of dogs, the weigh-in was over and Bella was sitting next to my leg, calmly panting and smiling, being patient with a completely lax leash between us. The obedience guru didn't notice that though and tried to take her leash from me. I finally just got very firm and said 'Bella is perfectly well behaved. She's just very excited today because this is a new situation for her with the puppy here. Thank you.' and took Bella to the same exam room, shutting the door behind both dogs now.
Looking back, I can kind of see how it looked to her. Here was this little woman with hair flying around trying to corral 3 kids and 2 dogs. Bella weighed in at 92 pounds and Brewer at almost 76. Tyler was doing his best with Bella, but she didn't have her normal leash and it was way too long to keep her under control for him. Riley was wearing shorts paired with his long sleeved Buzz Lightyear pajama shirt, slightly too small, that he had refused to take off all day and he had his blanket around his shoulders, secured with a safety pin so that he had a cape on. He kept turning in circles, looking over his shoulder so he could see the cape fly. Scooter was dressed normally, but was carrying the handle to a light saber. Just the handle. The plastic blade part had broken off, but the handle still lit up and made credible light saber noises. Every time someone came near us he was making jedi poses with his saber and giving people the 'I am a Jedi, Don't mess with me' look. Crazy. I am sure I looked like I couldn't handle anything at that point.
It took me, Tyler and a nurse to get all of us in the exam room without dogs escaping. I got the kids seated on a bench and turned to talk with the nurse. I was trying to keep Brewer still while she checked his temperature, unsuccessfully, when the door cracked open. The pushy woman from the lobby reached her hand inside the door to give me a piece of paper with the obedience school information on it. Pushy, pushy, pushy (I probably will check it out but only because I was already looking, not because she said to!). The staff decided 3 different times that it was better to take Brewer to the back to get things done for him. More hands on deck, I guess. Every time someone new walked into the room, I looked up and smiled and said 'Welcome to Crazy'. The first time the vet came in and I said this, she said 'Oh no, they're fine . . .' Brewer wasn't in the room. He was getting a heart worm sample taken in the back. She left to check on him and then when she returned she told me 'He's nuts. I mean completely nutty.'
So now the real battle begins. After telling me that Brewer was perfectly proportioned, in perfect health and ready for breeding, we moved on to Bella. Poor Bella. No wonder she didn't want to get on the scale - every time we go we get to hear how overweight and unhealthy she is. When I first got everyone settled in the room the nurse had commented on the dogs playing together so well. I said something to the effect of her having more energy now that I took her off of diet dog food. I got the first, expected, LOOK. The look that says 'you are a terrible doggy momma to have let your dog get to this point. You must be doing absolutely everything wrong for her to look like this.' That look. Scotty doesn't get it, but he has only taken Bella to the vet once or twice for her leg chewing. The nurse started in on the whiny 'but it's so bad for them, for their hearts, to be like this'. My look must have been sufficiently evil in response because she ran away and didn't bring it up again.
But the battle was waiting for me anyway and I knew it because I have been fighting it for over 3 years. I used to be sufficiently shamed when the vets and nurses would start their guilt trips and lectures and gave me the LOOK. I would go home and try everything they suggested and feel like I could make some progress. But nothing has ever worked and no one has ever really LISTENED to me about Bella. I don't think they believed that she ever moved at home or really got any excersize. I think they were considering whether or not I let Bella eat our meals with us at the table even though we have never given her table scraps willingly (I have had 2 babies since we got her though - she has gotten her fair share of dropped food, I won't lie, but it's been in tiny bits for short bursts). Anyway, shame is no longer a part of my emotional make-up where Bella is concerned. I know her. They don't.
So when the vet finished telling me how wonderful Brewer was in the health and weight department and turned to Bella and said 'BUT . . .' I put my hand up and said 'I am not fighting this battle anymore. I know what her weight is. It never really changes. She is what she is and I love her.' I was probably rude, but really after just getting us all in the door I was already tired. I didn't want to fight anymore. I have been through every question, every lecture, every possible experience with this dog's weight. I couldn't take it anymore. If the vet was going to give me crap, I was just about to say 'just give her the shots and I'm leaving'. She didn't though, she brought up what the nurse had told her about the diet food. So I cut her off and said something like the following:
Yes, I have taken her off of the diet food. It happened by accident while we were on vacation this summer and didn't have time to shop for it before we left, but when she had been on regular food again for a couple of weeks her energy was higher and she was happier so I just stuck with it. She's done prescription diet food and regular diet food. She's been on a diet for over 3 years. Before that she always had measured portions, we don't leave food out for her all day. She gets plenty of excersize (witness her currently jumping and playing with Brewer while we talk). We didn't do this to her. It's how she is. She's a quarter Blue Heeler and has the wide build and short legs of that breed. If she was a full bred Golden with the length and height of a Golden, her weight would be perfect, but it isn't. I am done fighting. She is what she is and I am not putting her on another diet. She's never lost more than 2-3 pounds on one and since she's been on regular food she's probably only gained 2 pounds. So forget it, it's a closed issue.
When I paused for breath the vet asked me if we had ever had her thyroid tested. No, I said, even though I have been asking for that for over 2 years. Everyone always said I had to do this or that first and we weren't there yet. They wouldn't do it. She said the best words ever 'I will'. Yay! Awesome! The test was going to take 30 minutes and could we wait? When I said yes, we were planning on going next door to get something and I was going to leave the dogs in the van for that anyway, she said 'Would you like to leave them here while you shop? Then we'll get the test run and you can come back for them.' I was grinning and nodding my darn fool head off, and Scooter piped in and said 'I don't want to stay here, I want to go with you mommy'. I guess he thought I was going to leave the kids there too. The vet assured him that they didn't do kids, just dogs & cats, and off we went.
I took my kids to Michael's and Target and then we walked back to PetSmart. Riley was still in his cape and was now slowing us down by trying to see the shadow his cape was making in the sunlight. Scooter startled someone coming out a door by firing up his light saber and making a ready-to-strike pose. Tyler asked a million questions about Bella's test, worried this would mean she was sick. I reassured him that if I was right (and Lord knows I KNEW I was right) Bella would actually start to feel better.
When we got back to the counter, the vet came out smiling and said 'Bella is definitely VERY Hypo-Thyroid.' Woohoo! I have never been so happy about a diagnosis in my life. No more evil 'you are a bad doggy momma' looks! So a prescription and plan of action ensued. Very excited chattering between me, the vet and one of the nurses. Someone brought Bella out to me before I could suggest that we do this in stages. Tyler took her leash and as I was pulling out my credit card to pay for our visit I heard him say 'Um, Mom - Look at Riley.' I turned around and there was my child, standing in the middle of PetSmart, with his pants and underwear pulled down around his ankles for no apparent reason. Man, just when I was starting to look sorta sane!
We did make it back to the car without losing any dogs, kids or limbs. We did make it home during which drive I called my sister to exclaim 'Bella's Hypo-Thyroid! Yay!' We sat down to dinner with Scott and related the story to him. He laughed his butt off at me and all the antics and said he wished he could have been a fly on the wall. I have sworn off ever taking the two of them ANYWHERE at the same time again by myself. Well, at least until I can teach Brewer some manners. Monday morning I cancelled their grooming appointments. I'll reschedule this week, but in stages. Even if it means extra driving and no multi-tasking, it will be better for my sanity if they go separately.
The funny thing is though, I think it was because I had Brewer with me that we finally got somewhere with Bella. Bella usually is so good at the vet that she just sits there or lies there patiently, letting them do whatever they want. So when I say to them 'She plays, she excersizes, she's active' they don't believe me. But this time they saw her jumping all over Brewer and playing non-stop while we were in the office. We have fed Brewer and Bella identically and Brewer is perfectly proportioned which showed that we didn't suck as doggy-parents. I won't ever attempt this again, unless they are both old and slow and calm, but I will always be glad I did it this one time. It's probably really good that I didn't bring the kitten at the same time though. If I had, Brewer would have torn up their whole office trying to play with her. Talk about Crazy!
Thanks and God Bless!
Monday, November 1, 2010
Riley Bear turns 3
It's my littlest baby boy's 3rd birthday today. How crazy that he's 3 already! The time has literally flown by, especially since he's always trying to be so much bigger than he is. I kind of feel bad for his 2's, since I have found myself thinking 'he's almost 3' for a good 6 months already. He always acts older and tries to do everything with Scooter all the time so it has been hard to remember that he was really only 2 for quite a while.
But Riley was a tiny baby not so long ago and I find myself thinking of the day he was born today, as most mothers do on their munchkin's birthdays. I know I am skipping over Scooter's birth story to get to Riley's, but that is just how the calendar is flowing. I will have to come back to Scooter later because today is Riley's day.
My due date for Riley was November 2nd and I had been extremely nervous through the second half of my pregnancy that my water would break while trick-or-treating with Tyler and Scooter. For some reason I didn't want him to be born on Halloween, but by the end I guess I wouldn't have cared either way. When you are full term, you are just ready and the day doesn't really matter. Dr. P (not the same doc as for Tyler, but I've had her for 5 years and LOVE her) has maintained through both my 2nd and 3rd pregnancies that since Tyler was 8/5 and almost a full week early and because I had the challenges pushing that occured for his birth, she doesn't ever want me going over 40 weeks. She isn't taking any risks that I would have to try and deliver a 9 pound baby if I don't have to. I used to think I would rather wait than be induced, but really by the end of a pregnancy I don't really care any more and am kind of grateful that I don't have to be way overdue before delivery.
So as we crept towards my due date, Dr. P kept checking my progress at every appointment and I kept having contractions. By the end they were not Braxton-Hicks, but the real thing - just never consistent enough to be timeable. I was kind of confused by this kind of pre-labor activity. I was never quite sure if the contractions were strong enough to be considered real since I had never felt a real labor contraction with my water still in tact. I was dilated to a 4-5 that last week (3rd baby), I was ready to go.
I knew that I wasn't going to go much over my due date and that my body was telling me this baby was coming soon, but by my appointment that week he hadn't made up his mind yet and Dr. P was going out of town for the weekend. She would induce me the following Monday, but neither one of us thought I would make it that long and she really wanted to deliver the baby. Her partners are both great and it would have been fine to have one of them deliver Riley, but Dr. P offered me the unthinkable. She offered to come in on her night off, the night before she went on vacation when she wasn't even on call to induce and deliver Riley so that she wouldn't miss it.
When I get around to writing Scooter's birth story, you will understand how different this experience was for me regarding the hospital. I couldn't get approval to come in for an induction for him because the hospital was busy. When I showed up for Riley, despite the fact that the L&D department was slammed, I was ushered into one of the better labor rooms and was told 'Oh, we were expecting you. You're Dr. P's special patient for tonight.' Turns out the nursing staff adores her too. Anyway, it was way cool.
We got to the hospital around 6:30, got checked in and got set up in our room. In the asinine method of inductions, I had been instructed not to eat or drink anything for hours prior to my admission. However, because I would then be dehydrated, I had to have IV fluids before anything else happens. I am sure there is some medically profound reasoning for this, but really? You could have just let me have water! So I got hooked up to fluids and got checked and got comfortable. It turns out the hospital had been ridiculously busy that evening so there were a shortage of L&D nurses. Someone got called in on her day off to take care of me for a while until another woman had delivered. I really liked her, she was amazingly calm and collected. She didn't run screaming from the room at the suggestion that I was going to be induced and that I didn't want an epidural. When she was sent home just as my labor was really getting going, she was replaced with a girl who had been a nurse for four whole months (I asked), wore braces and looked like she still belonged in high school. Sweet girl, but really still just a girl.
By the time I got checked in, I was already having some pretty decent contractions and they were kind of regular for the first time. They were a good 12 minutes apart, but they were there. I am pretty sure that if we hadn't induced I would have had Riley the next day, right on his due date. But we were there and by 8 pm things were finally getting started. My doctor came in and started me on a slow drip of pitocin and somewhere around 8:30 or a little later broke my water. The pitocin got a little stronger and contractions started rolling in.
I had requested a rocking chair, but since none were available I was given a birthing ball with an arm support contraption around it. I sat on the ball and chatted with family between the pains. During the contractions I found a blue square of tile on the floor that ended up being my focal point. The only problem was, I hadn't told anyone it was my focal point and my husband kept standing on it. After several waves of pain where I was trying to see my square, I finally got out in between the contractions that he shouldn't stand right there. Poor Scotty, he was just trying to be where I was looking so he could help. He just needed to be elsewhere while he helped.
Tyler didn't think he needed to be in the room for Riley's birth before we got started, but as my labor advanced and he kept coming to visit he got to a point where he really didn't want to leave. He pranced around the room in between contractions and kept me entertained and smiling. At one point things were starting to get more intense and I thought I might already be going through transition, but it turned out to be just that I was finishing thinning out. It had been less than 2 hours. I was at a 6, but completely effaced. My mother-in-law decided to take a break and send my sister-in-law in for a visit. I wanted to see Brandy, but I also tried to tell Sandy that it wouldn't be long. She was there for Scooter's birth, but I guess she forgot how fast I can go at this point, so off she went. Brandy came in and I literally flew through the rest of my labor. It was so fast after that, the nurses started asking who could be in the room and who should leave. I seem to like a party when I have a baby so I said it didn't matter, but that Sandy wanted to be here. Brandy was going to go out and get her but I was suddenly in transition and moving to the bed. The nurses told her that if she went out at that point, they wouldn't be letting anyone else back in. Brandy could go out to her mom, but Sandy wasn't getting in. I told Brandy she should just stay.
Pushing was crazy fast with Riley. I think I only pushed through a couple of contractions before his head was out. Dr P wanted me to slow down, but I really couldn't. Riley was kind of coming of his own volition at that point. When his head was out, it turned out that the cord was around his neck very tightly. If I had taken my time pushing it might have made things a lot worse. Dr. P told me to stop pushing so she could remove the cord, but Riley kept coming without my aid. When she tried to remove the cord, it was so tight that it literally burst. There was blood splattered everywhere, but my baby was here and screaming like crazy. I actually held him for a moment and soothed his crying, but when they took him back from me to cut the cord he stopped breathing or was having trouble breathing. They rushed him over to the incubator and paged NICU. My mom was moving to take Tyler out of the room, but I told her it was fine. Somehow I knew it was fine. He had just been crying in my arms and he was fine. I'm sure this was after-birth adreniline, but I just knew. And when NICU flew into the room, Riley was just fine. He was crying and breathing on his own and the NICU staff wanted to know what they were doing there. Dr. P and the others decided that he just reacted to the shock of the quick birth.
They gave me my baby to hold. He had hair. My first baby with hair, and it was dark. It wasn't long before they whisked him away and up to the newborn nursery to double check that all was well, but not NICU. It was almost five hours before I got him back and I was not a very nice person by then. I was raging at the staff that they needed to bring me my baby and NOW. I apologized for my rudeness later, but I was furious that it took so long. My parents waited through the night with us to see him before they took the other two boys home with them. When I finally had him in my arms again, mom asked me who he looked like. Like Riley. Just Riley.
When I had been abandoned by my whole family in the delivery room after they took Riley upstairs (they followed the baby) I did get some visitors, but they were all nurses. Nurse after nurse popped into my room to see me, to meet me. It was so weird. They all thought that I was some kind of oddity. I guess natural births are just not that common in hospital settings anymore, but natural births that are induced with pitocin are unheard of. Everyone kept coming to tell me how great they had heard I had done. Hmmm - did you hear me yelling and cussing during transition? Are you sure you mean me? But they did. And that's why Dr. P had come in on her night off too, because she knew that I could and would do it - even if I wasn't sure I could.
Once I had Riley in my room with me, my parents went home and took my other sleeping children with them. I fed Riley then put him in his bassinet and got a whole hour of sleep before the morning nurses came on duty and started making their rounds. When my mother-in-law came that day and finally got to hold her grandson, she told me she knew better now and wasn't leaving next time. I give birth way too fast for her to try and take a break. I still hear this from her from time to time and I know she hated missing his birth. I feel bad about it too, but at the time we were out of options.
It's funny how things go, but by the 3rd baby I really didn't want to be in the hospital at all. I just wanted to go home. It makes it tempting to have a home birth, but I would never try. Look what happened to Riley, I am so glad I was in a place to help him if things had gone wrong. We brought Riley home and settled into our lives again. He looks the most like Scotty, he even has the same wrinkles in his forehead. His hair turned blonde within months and now that he's getting older, he has the same devilish, gonna-make-trouble grin that his daddy used to torment me with when we were kids.
Riley is a huge ball of fiery determination and devil-may-care attitude. He also is the most charming angel with the sweetest disposition. He has beautiful eyes and a smile that will talk you into almost anything. He's way too good looking. I am going to have to beat the girls away when he gets a little older. And he's my snuggly bear. He loves to snuggle even more than the other two. He's constantly struggling to keep up with his brothers and to be his own person. Now that he's 3, I expect that more of who the real Riley is will reveal itself every day.
I am so grateful to be his mom, and I really can't believe it's been 3 years already.
God Bless!
Matthew Riley Barrow, November 1, 2007 11:51 pm, 7 lbs 4 oz, Dark hair, blue eyes, Grandma Barrow's toes and his daddys forehead.
But Riley was a tiny baby not so long ago and I find myself thinking of the day he was born today, as most mothers do on their munchkin's birthdays. I know I am skipping over Scooter's birth story to get to Riley's, but that is just how the calendar is flowing. I will have to come back to Scooter later because today is Riley's day.
My due date for Riley was November 2nd and I had been extremely nervous through the second half of my pregnancy that my water would break while trick-or-treating with Tyler and Scooter. For some reason I didn't want him to be born on Halloween, but by the end I guess I wouldn't have cared either way. When you are full term, you are just ready and the day doesn't really matter. Dr. P (not the same doc as for Tyler, but I've had her for 5 years and LOVE her) has maintained through both my 2nd and 3rd pregnancies that since Tyler was 8/5 and almost a full week early and because I had the challenges pushing that occured for his birth, she doesn't ever want me going over 40 weeks. She isn't taking any risks that I would have to try and deliver a 9 pound baby if I don't have to. I used to think I would rather wait than be induced, but really by the end of a pregnancy I don't really care any more and am kind of grateful that I don't have to be way overdue before delivery.
So as we crept towards my due date, Dr. P kept checking my progress at every appointment and I kept having contractions. By the end they were not Braxton-Hicks, but the real thing - just never consistent enough to be timeable. I was kind of confused by this kind of pre-labor activity. I was never quite sure if the contractions were strong enough to be considered real since I had never felt a real labor contraction with my water still in tact. I was dilated to a 4-5 that last week (3rd baby), I was ready to go.
I knew that I wasn't going to go much over my due date and that my body was telling me this baby was coming soon, but by my appointment that week he hadn't made up his mind yet and Dr. P was going out of town for the weekend. She would induce me the following Monday, but neither one of us thought I would make it that long and she really wanted to deliver the baby. Her partners are both great and it would have been fine to have one of them deliver Riley, but Dr. P offered me the unthinkable. She offered to come in on her night off, the night before she went on vacation when she wasn't even on call to induce and deliver Riley so that she wouldn't miss it.
When I get around to writing Scooter's birth story, you will understand how different this experience was for me regarding the hospital. I couldn't get approval to come in for an induction for him because the hospital was busy. When I showed up for Riley, despite the fact that the L&D department was slammed, I was ushered into one of the better labor rooms and was told 'Oh, we were expecting you. You're Dr. P's special patient for tonight.' Turns out the nursing staff adores her too. Anyway, it was way cool.
We got to the hospital around 6:30, got checked in and got set up in our room. In the asinine method of inductions, I had been instructed not to eat or drink anything for hours prior to my admission. However, because I would then be dehydrated, I had to have IV fluids before anything else happens. I am sure there is some medically profound reasoning for this, but really? You could have just let me have water! So I got hooked up to fluids and got checked and got comfortable. It turns out the hospital had been ridiculously busy that evening so there were a shortage of L&D nurses. Someone got called in on her day off to take care of me for a while until another woman had delivered. I really liked her, she was amazingly calm and collected. She didn't run screaming from the room at the suggestion that I was going to be induced and that I didn't want an epidural. When she was sent home just as my labor was really getting going, she was replaced with a girl who had been a nurse for four whole months (I asked), wore braces and looked like she still belonged in high school. Sweet girl, but really still just a girl.
By the time I got checked in, I was already having some pretty decent contractions and they were kind of regular for the first time. They were a good 12 minutes apart, but they were there. I am pretty sure that if we hadn't induced I would have had Riley the next day, right on his due date. But we were there and by 8 pm things were finally getting started. My doctor came in and started me on a slow drip of pitocin and somewhere around 8:30 or a little later broke my water. The pitocin got a little stronger and contractions started rolling in.
I had requested a rocking chair, but since none were available I was given a birthing ball with an arm support contraption around it. I sat on the ball and chatted with family between the pains. During the contractions I found a blue square of tile on the floor that ended up being my focal point. The only problem was, I hadn't told anyone it was my focal point and my husband kept standing on it. After several waves of pain where I was trying to see my square, I finally got out in between the contractions that he shouldn't stand right there. Poor Scotty, he was just trying to be where I was looking so he could help. He just needed to be elsewhere while he helped.
Tyler didn't think he needed to be in the room for Riley's birth before we got started, but as my labor advanced and he kept coming to visit he got to a point where he really didn't want to leave. He pranced around the room in between contractions and kept me entertained and smiling. At one point things were starting to get more intense and I thought I might already be going through transition, but it turned out to be just that I was finishing thinning out. It had been less than 2 hours. I was at a 6, but completely effaced. My mother-in-law decided to take a break and send my sister-in-law in for a visit. I wanted to see Brandy, but I also tried to tell Sandy that it wouldn't be long. She was there for Scooter's birth, but I guess she forgot how fast I can go at this point, so off she went. Brandy came in and I literally flew through the rest of my labor. It was so fast after that, the nurses started asking who could be in the room and who should leave. I seem to like a party when I have a baby so I said it didn't matter, but that Sandy wanted to be here. Brandy was going to go out and get her but I was suddenly in transition and moving to the bed. The nurses told her that if she went out at that point, they wouldn't be letting anyone else back in. Brandy could go out to her mom, but Sandy wasn't getting in. I told Brandy she should just stay.
Pushing was crazy fast with Riley. I think I only pushed through a couple of contractions before his head was out. Dr P wanted me to slow down, but I really couldn't. Riley was kind of coming of his own volition at that point. When his head was out, it turned out that the cord was around his neck very tightly. If I had taken my time pushing it might have made things a lot worse. Dr. P told me to stop pushing so she could remove the cord, but Riley kept coming without my aid. When she tried to remove the cord, it was so tight that it literally burst. There was blood splattered everywhere, but my baby was here and screaming like crazy. I actually held him for a moment and soothed his crying, but when they took him back from me to cut the cord he stopped breathing or was having trouble breathing. They rushed him over to the incubator and paged NICU. My mom was moving to take Tyler out of the room, but I told her it was fine. Somehow I knew it was fine. He had just been crying in my arms and he was fine. I'm sure this was after-birth adreniline, but I just knew. And when NICU flew into the room, Riley was just fine. He was crying and breathing on his own and the NICU staff wanted to know what they were doing there. Dr. P and the others decided that he just reacted to the shock of the quick birth.
They gave me my baby to hold. He had hair. My first baby with hair, and it was dark. It wasn't long before they whisked him away and up to the newborn nursery to double check that all was well, but not NICU. It was almost five hours before I got him back and I was not a very nice person by then. I was raging at the staff that they needed to bring me my baby and NOW. I apologized for my rudeness later, but I was furious that it took so long. My parents waited through the night with us to see him before they took the other two boys home with them. When I finally had him in my arms again, mom asked me who he looked like. Like Riley. Just Riley.
When I had been abandoned by my whole family in the delivery room after they took Riley upstairs (they followed the baby) I did get some visitors, but they were all nurses. Nurse after nurse popped into my room to see me, to meet me. It was so weird. They all thought that I was some kind of oddity. I guess natural births are just not that common in hospital settings anymore, but natural births that are induced with pitocin are unheard of. Everyone kept coming to tell me how great they had heard I had done. Hmmm - did you hear me yelling and cussing during transition? Are you sure you mean me? But they did. And that's why Dr. P had come in on her night off too, because she knew that I could and would do it - even if I wasn't sure I could.
Once I had Riley in my room with me, my parents went home and took my other sleeping children with them. I fed Riley then put him in his bassinet and got a whole hour of sleep before the morning nurses came on duty and started making their rounds. When my mother-in-law came that day and finally got to hold her grandson, she told me she knew better now and wasn't leaving next time. I give birth way too fast for her to try and take a break. I still hear this from her from time to time and I know she hated missing his birth. I feel bad about it too, but at the time we were out of options.
It's funny how things go, but by the 3rd baby I really didn't want to be in the hospital at all. I just wanted to go home. It makes it tempting to have a home birth, but I would never try. Look what happened to Riley, I am so glad I was in a place to help him if things had gone wrong. We brought Riley home and settled into our lives again. He looks the most like Scotty, he even has the same wrinkles in his forehead. His hair turned blonde within months and now that he's getting older, he has the same devilish, gonna-make-trouble grin that his daddy used to torment me with when we were kids.
Riley is a huge ball of fiery determination and devil-may-care attitude. He also is the most charming angel with the sweetest disposition. He has beautiful eyes and a smile that will talk you into almost anything. He's way too good looking. I am going to have to beat the girls away when he gets a little older. And he's my snuggly bear. He loves to snuggle even more than the other two. He's constantly struggling to keep up with his brothers and to be his own person. Now that he's 3, I expect that more of who the real Riley is will reveal itself every day.
I am so grateful to be his mom, and I really can't believe it's been 3 years already.
God Bless!
Matthew Riley Barrow, November 1, 2007 11:51 pm, 7 lbs 4 oz, Dark hair, blue eyes, Grandma Barrow's toes and his daddys forehead.
Subscribe to:
Posts (Atom)