WOW! My house smells great. It looks clean! And, I hardly did anything. Here are the simple steps to acquiring what I have:
Step One: Put your lemon scented Mr Clean in a bucket and mix with water.
Step Two: Locate an empty 18 gallon (or above) sized tupperware.
Step Three: Walk around the house and put any stray items in the Tupperware container (to be put away later, of course)
Step Four: Sweep (quickly). There is a great sense of accomplishment from sweeping a pile into a dustpan. Watch how good you feel once you're done.
You're done!
By now, the bucket of lemon scented Mr. Clean has permeated the entire house. You can move it to your laundry room and allow it to continue to spread its long lasting scent.
If you feel really ambitious, you can even mop an area or two of your house. No need to do the whole thing ~ just a little makes the house smell and look great!
Title Renamed: JUST DISCOVERED: Greatest Cleaning TRICK Ever
September 24, 2007
September 20, 2007
"If Mom Ain't Happy, Ain't Nobody Happy"
Recently, I was invited to participate in a community conference for women put on by a local organization. The conference title was "The Oys and Joys of Parenting" and the part I was to be involved with was called "The Revolving Door Syndrome: Stepping Out of Existing Patterns". The goal was to provide practical tips to moms in order that they might walk away with some concrete ideas on how to bring more joy into daily life.
I should have paused when I first read the title of "my" section. "Stepping Out of Existing Patterns" doesn't necessarily speak to the goal of helping moms put more FUN into their days. And, after our first couple of meetings, I should have paused again.
I was asked to take the title and brainstorm (on the spot) how I would go about leading this segment of the conference. My brainstorm was then merged with whatever ideas already existed and I was asked to go to it. Start creating a list of ideas we can share with moms. I talked to friends. I sent out a mass email recruiting creative, FUN ideas. I spent hours at night researching ideas from Mommy websites.
When I'm asked to participate in something, I don't say yes unless I'm going to give it my all. All you need to do is mention MOTHERHOOD, and I'm on board (at least until now). As of yesterday, I have been asked to remove myself from the conference committee. It appears (and I suppose I should agree) that I am on a different page.
Part of my problem is that I asked for clarification of what page we were supposed to be on in the first place. It was my feeling that the direction we were going was not the intended direction as I understood it. The task of coming up with practical, FUN ideas to share with moms turned into suggestions such as: "creating a family cheer" (if you think this is a good idea, you should stop reading right now. you don't belong here) or "surprise your child with a treat or a note in their lunch". Now, the latter is not necessarily a bad idea but does a mother really need to be told to do that?
My dilemma turned into the focus of the actions suggested. They were set up to put a smile on the child's face. How might this benefit the mother? "A happy child leads to a happy mother", I was told. (or vice versa, I added) But, I'm not really into creating a world where my child always has to be happy so that my day goes much better. I am more interested in providing ideas for the MOTHER to use to manage the day to day tasks of motherhood with a good attitude, to provide innovative and FUN ideas to get her through those moments... the OYS that were mentioned above.
One of the women on this committee made a suggestion to another mom who was having a difficult time getting her children to sit down (all at once) for breakfast. She suggested setting the table with a fun tablecloth, buying paper goods and inviting the children to a breakfast party. This, in my opinion, was something FUN for the children as well as useful for the mother. From that, one may even come up with other ideas to be used on a daily basis to assist with the difficulty of gathering everyone at the breakfast table.
I suppose there is a reason for everything. This experience has led me to throw out every how to get your child to sleep, eat, behave, listen, love you book that I own. Why can't parenting just be parenting? My mom didn't have all these crazy books that she had to refer to before she made a decision about what kind of shoes to buy me when I was crawling or to help her determine which stroller would be most ergonomically correct for my growing spine or how to balance life with three children born in five years.
Why does so much work and effort have to put into adding a little JOY into the lives of your children or into your own life, for that matter. We get so caught up in the hustle and bustle of daily living, we forget to take pause to do the little things that mean so much.
Why do we need to be trained on Nurtured Heart Parenting or Parent Effectiveness Training or Parenting with one eye closed, one hand behind your back and one foot dragging one small cling-on child? I'd like to see the research that says "this parenting technique is the one that puts more children into Harvard than any other" or "children who have been parented with this technique and ONLY this technique are more successful in later life".
Don't get me wrong. I love hearing new ideas; I talk to my friends about what they do in certain parenting situations, I call my mom for ideas all the time. I value learning and I model that for my children as well. What it all boils down to - in my eyes - is that we need to LOVE our children, we need to FOCUS on the things that are important in life and learn to BALANCE those things with the mundane responsibilities we all have and we need to MODEL for our children the VALUES we feel will help them become successfully functioning human beings in the greater society!
I should have paused when I first read the title of "my" section. "Stepping Out of Existing Patterns" doesn't necessarily speak to the goal of helping moms put more FUN into their days. And, after our first couple of meetings, I should have paused again.
I was asked to take the title and brainstorm (on the spot) how I would go about leading this segment of the conference. My brainstorm was then merged with whatever ideas already existed and I was asked to go to it. Start creating a list of ideas we can share with moms. I talked to friends. I sent out a mass email recruiting creative, FUN ideas. I spent hours at night researching ideas from Mommy websites.
When I'm asked to participate in something, I don't say yes unless I'm going to give it my all. All you need to do is mention MOTHERHOOD, and I'm on board (at least until now). As of yesterday, I have been asked to remove myself from the conference committee. It appears (and I suppose I should agree) that I am on a different page.
Part of my problem is that I asked for clarification of what page we were supposed to be on in the first place. It was my feeling that the direction we were going was not the intended direction as I understood it. The task of coming up with practical, FUN ideas to share with moms turned into suggestions such as: "creating a family cheer" (if you think this is a good idea, you should stop reading right now. you don't belong here) or "surprise your child with a treat or a note in their lunch". Now, the latter is not necessarily a bad idea but does a mother really need to be told to do that?
My dilemma turned into the focus of the actions suggested. They were set up to put a smile on the child's face. How might this benefit the mother? "A happy child leads to a happy mother", I was told. (or vice versa, I added) But, I'm not really into creating a world where my child always has to be happy so that my day goes much better. I am more interested in providing ideas for the MOTHER to use to manage the day to day tasks of motherhood with a good attitude, to provide innovative and FUN ideas to get her through those moments... the OYS that were mentioned above.
One of the women on this committee made a suggestion to another mom who was having a difficult time getting her children to sit down (all at once) for breakfast. She suggested setting the table with a fun tablecloth, buying paper goods and inviting the children to a breakfast party. This, in my opinion, was something FUN for the children as well as useful for the mother. From that, one may even come up with other ideas to be used on a daily basis to assist with the difficulty of gathering everyone at the breakfast table.
I suppose there is a reason for everything. This experience has led me to throw out every how to get your child to sleep, eat, behave, listen, love you book that I own. Why can't parenting just be parenting? My mom didn't have all these crazy books that she had to refer to before she made a decision about what kind of shoes to buy me when I was crawling or to help her determine which stroller would be most ergonomically correct for my growing spine or how to balance life with three children born in five years.
Why does so much work and effort have to put into adding a little JOY into the lives of your children or into your own life, for that matter. We get so caught up in the hustle and bustle of daily living, we forget to take pause to do the little things that mean so much.
Why do we need to be trained on Nurtured Heart Parenting or Parent Effectiveness Training or Parenting with one eye closed, one hand behind your back and one foot dragging one small cling-on child? I'd like to see the research that says "this parenting technique is the one that puts more children into Harvard than any other" or "children who have been parented with this technique and ONLY this technique are more successful in later life".
Don't get me wrong. I love hearing new ideas; I talk to my friends about what they do in certain parenting situations, I call my mom for ideas all the time. I value learning and I model that for my children as well. What it all boils down to - in my eyes - is that we need to LOVE our children, we need to FOCUS on the things that are important in life and learn to BALANCE those things with the mundane responsibilities we all have and we need to MODEL for our children the VALUES we feel will help them become successfully functioning human beings in the greater society!
August 21, 2007
100 Extra
"It hurt me a hundred times extra", Ilan said to me this morning as he began to describe WHY his injury from last night was worse than your typical injury. "I landed here and here," as he pointed to the side of his thigh and his face, "but because of the power of the aggressor (his friend, Ben) and the way I landed (he demonstrated) and how fast I was moving, it was 100 times worse."
Prior to the injury, as the boys were deciding the rules for this wrestling/fighting/swording game, my friend Susie and I continuously said "stop/no good/bad choice/etc" and then shrugged and waited for the injured party to arrive. As it turned out, it was Ilan, the oldest of the bunch.
As Ilan went on to describe the scene at the injury, the other people involved... etc - his words melted together and all I heard (loud and clear) was "VELOCITY times FORCE times ACCELERATION = INJURY TIMES A HUNDRED."
WHAT? How does this little six year old brain think of these things? The detail. The description. The thought behind what happened. Behind Ilan's voice was the ringing of my husband's - his deep understanding of everything and his ability to describe it all to anyone who will listen, his curiosity and need to search for the answer to every question asked, down to the pickiest detail, and about stuff that makes you turn your head and ask "You think about that? How did you even know to think about that?"
Aaaah, the things I'm going to learn as we go deeper into the year of first grade.
Prior to the injury, as the boys were deciding the rules for this wrestling/fighting/swording game, my friend Susie and I continuously said "stop/no good/bad choice/etc" and then shrugged and waited for the injured party to arrive. As it turned out, it was Ilan, the oldest of the bunch.
As Ilan went on to describe the scene at the injury, the other people involved... etc - his words melted together and all I heard (loud and clear) was "VELOCITY times FORCE times ACCELERATION = INJURY TIMES A HUNDRED."
WHAT? How does this little six year old brain think of these things? The detail. The description. The thought behind what happened. Behind Ilan's voice was the ringing of my husband's - his deep understanding of everything and his ability to describe it all to anyone who will listen, his curiosity and need to search for the answer to every question asked, down to the pickiest detail, and about stuff that makes you turn your head and ask "You think about that? How did you even know to think about that?"
Aaaah, the things I'm going to learn as we go deeper into the year of first grade.
August 12, 2007
Life Lessons in Laundry
One "surefire" (according to the rules of motherhood) way to get things done around the house is to involve your children. I decided to test this theory the other day with my almost five year old. I had many baskets of laundry to fold.
We set out folding laundry, and I passed him the dish towels which he would fold into rectangles and then squares. I was surprisingly impressed with his work. But, then he eyed the bed sheets. "I want to fold those", he stated - no fear in his voice (personally, I'm terrified of the sheets, especially the fitted ones).
I decided to give him a shot at it. He was so thrilled with his results, he wanted to fold another... and another.... and another. I started calculating how much time it would take me to refold the sheets, how much time I had just wasted inviting my child to participate in this folding task with me and when I'd be able to refold the sheets so Aaron wouldn't observe me doing it.
And, then, I stopped. Who really cares about wrinkled sheets, or clothing, for that matter? (except my husband) They just wrinkle back up when you sit in your car for 20 minutes in the 100+ degree heat in Arizona.... so what does it matter if you put them on already wrinkled? In my book, that's a time saver! Likewise, with sheets. I'm just going to stretch them across the bed anyways. They'll straighten out then. As long as I can put the abstractly folded sheets onto the shelf in the closet where they belong without taking up space from some other towels, sheets or extra piece of clothes' property - it will be ok.
I smiled at Aaron and thanked him for folding laundry with me (and silently thanked him for another important life lesson), and we carried the basket of laundry reciting "teamwork" as we headed to the linen closet to put it all away.
We set out folding laundry, and I passed him the dish towels which he would fold into rectangles and then squares. I was surprisingly impressed with his work. But, then he eyed the bed sheets. "I want to fold those", he stated - no fear in his voice (personally, I'm terrified of the sheets, especially the fitted ones).
I decided to give him a shot at it. He was so thrilled with his results, he wanted to fold another... and another.... and another. I started calculating how much time it would take me to refold the sheets, how much time I had just wasted inviting my child to participate in this folding task with me and when I'd be able to refold the sheets so Aaron wouldn't observe me doing it.
And, then, I stopped. Who really cares about wrinkled sheets, or clothing, for that matter? (except my husband) They just wrinkle back up when you sit in your car for 20 minutes in the 100+ degree heat in Arizona.... so what does it matter if you put them on already wrinkled? In my book, that's a time saver! Likewise, with sheets. I'm just going to stretch them across the bed anyways. They'll straighten out then. As long as I can put the abstractly folded sheets onto the shelf in the closet where they belong without taking up space from some other towels, sheets or extra piece of clothes' property - it will be ok.
I smiled at Aaron and thanked him for folding laundry with me (and silently thanked him for another important life lesson), and we carried the basket of laundry reciting "teamwork" as we headed to the linen closet to put it all away.
June 25, 2007
continuation
So, I discovered this afternoon that Aaron has the same cry when he gets hurt as he has when you know he is not really hurt but he's freaking out anyways. I discovered this when he received a blood dripping dent in his forehead after ramming it into the door knob while chasing Ilan and Isaac.
Shortly thereafter, Jeff, our swimming teacher arrived and - believe it or not - it was another cocky moment in motherhood. I was changing Ellie's diaper, waiting for him to ring the bell. I noticed poop in her shorts - how did that get there? It must have been left over from this morning. Did I mention changing a poopy diaper during my first shift? A few minutes afterwards, I still smelled something. I lifted her up, smelled her, couldn't find the source anywhere. When I got up from the floor, I noticed poop on my foot, my pants, the carpet.... I'm still not sure what happened.
When Jeff arrived, only one of three was eager to go swimming. After the first one went in the pool, the other two wanted to go in too. So, instead of taking turns like they normally do, we took advantage of the (rare) moment. I quickly put Ellie down for a nap, and she went to sleep this time. One might think a mother could have 60 minutes to catch up on dishes, dirty tables, pajamas still lying around, the laundry in the dryer - on the dryer - and waiting to go in the dryer - but, no, I played secondary lifeguard.
It was well worth the hour. To see my children - two of whom have hated the water since they were six months old - enjoying themselves was pure ecstasy. Ilan was the worst of them. He hated baths as well as the pool, and here he was going off the diving board and swimming - really swimming - to the side. Aaron was the stubborn a** who, unless he could do what he wanted - play on the raft - would cry and whine and scream for 30 minutes straight. He was diving off the side of the pool - like a leaping bat all spread out - splashing into the pool and swimming back to the stairs. Then there was Isaac, who I haven't even pushed into swimming lessons yet because I want him to enjoy the pool. He decided he wanted to swim - with Jeff - today. He was jumping off the side into Jeff's arms. He was putting his face in the water and blowing bubbles. He was playing on the stairs, having a blast. Jeff bounced back and forth between them and I bounced wherever he wasn't, running inside to get shoes for my burning feet and a camera so their Daddy could see them when he got home tonight (did I mention he is out of town?).
Swimming ended. Ellie was sleeping. Bathing suits came off, clothes went on, snacks were had. Minutes later, I decided we would take Ilan to his karate class. I put everyone in the car without their shoes on, told Ilan to get in his karate uniform and, at the last minute, woke Ellie. We went to karate, three of them staying in the car and watching a movie on the VCR my brother-in-law won at a charity auction and kindly gave to us to install in our car. Karate lasts an hour. Now, we're home. They already ate dinner (it's 5:33pm). They are playing. I am typing and Ellie is in the saucer whining because it's time for her to go to sleep.
I put Ellie down, get everyone else in pajamas, watch as they play in the bounce house that now occupies my bedroom. We bought it when Aaron was younger thinking it would help to release some of his energy. They bounce. I create a meal plan for Friday night when we always have a dinner and usually have guests. I put Isaac to sleep. Ilan and Aaron take turns on Club Penguin (moms of young children - check it out - a great website for young children www.clubpenguin.com). Ilan and Aaron go to sleep. Aaron comes out of his room to give me his worries he forgot to give me. Ilan comes out of his room to get cold, cold, very cold water. Aaron comes out to ask how many hours until morning. Ilan comes out to ask why the sun is still out if it's night time. I warm up leftovers for dinner. I'm ready for bed.
I turn around and notice the pile creeping over the edge of my sink. My dishwasher is clean and I have to unload in order to re-load. I see the shoes on the floor, the pile of swim suits and towels, the three baskets of laundry waiting to be folded, the toys spread out on my bedroom floor from the last half hour of the day (I am always amazed at how quickly a clean room can be destroyed - even when under supervision). I check the clock. I need to get some sleep before I have to wake up with Ellie.
Oooops, I hear somebody crying. Gotta go!
Shortly thereafter, Jeff, our swimming teacher arrived and - believe it or not - it was another cocky moment in motherhood. I was changing Ellie's diaper, waiting for him to ring the bell. I noticed poop in her shorts - how did that get there? It must have been left over from this morning. Did I mention changing a poopy diaper during my first shift? A few minutes afterwards, I still smelled something. I lifted her up, smelled her, couldn't find the source anywhere. When I got up from the floor, I noticed poop on my foot, my pants, the carpet.... I'm still not sure what happened.
When Jeff arrived, only one of three was eager to go swimming. After the first one went in the pool, the other two wanted to go in too. So, instead of taking turns like they normally do, we took advantage of the (rare) moment. I quickly put Ellie down for a nap, and she went to sleep this time. One might think a mother could have 60 minutes to catch up on dishes, dirty tables, pajamas still lying around, the laundry in the dryer - on the dryer - and waiting to go in the dryer - but, no, I played secondary lifeguard.
It was well worth the hour. To see my children - two of whom have hated the water since they were six months old - enjoying themselves was pure ecstasy. Ilan was the worst of them. He hated baths as well as the pool, and here he was going off the diving board and swimming - really swimming - to the side. Aaron was the stubborn a** who, unless he could do what he wanted - play on the raft - would cry and whine and scream for 30 minutes straight. He was diving off the side of the pool - like a leaping bat all spread out - splashing into the pool and swimming back to the stairs. Then there was Isaac, who I haven't even pushed into swimming lessons yet because I want him to enjoy the pool. He decided he wanted to swim - with Jeff - today. He was jumping off the side into Jeff's arms. He was putting his face in the water and blowing bubbles. He was playing on the stairs, having a blast. Jeff bounced back and forth between them and I bounced wherever he wasn't, running inside to get shoes for my burning feet and a camera so their Daddy could see them when he got home tonight (did I mention he is out of town?).
Swimming ended. Ellie was sleeping. Bathing suits came off, clothes went on, snacks were had. Minutes later, I decided we would take Ilan to his karate class. I put everyone in the car without their shoes on, told Ilan to get in his karate uniform and, at the last minute, woke Ellie. We went to karate, three of them staying in the car and watching a movie on the VCR my brother-in-law won at a charity auction and kindly gave to us to install in our car. Karate lasts an hour. Now, we're home. They already ate dinner (it's 5:33pm). They are playing. I am typing and Ellie is in the saucer whining because it's time for her to go to sleep.
I put Ellie down, get everyone else in pajamas, watch as they play in the bounce house that now occupies my bedroom. We bought it when Aaron was younger thinking it would help to release some of his energy. They bounce. I create a meal plan for Friday night when we always have a dinner and usually have guests. I put Isaac to sleep. Ilan and Aaron take turns on Club Penguin (moms of young children - check it out - a great website for young children www.clubpenguin.com). Ilan and Aaron go to sleep. Aaron comes out of his room to give me his worries he forgot to give me. Ilan comes out of his room to get cold, cold, very cold water. Aaron comes out to ask how many hours until morning. Ilan comes out to ask why the sun is still out if it's night time. I warm up leftovers for dinner. I'm ready for bed.
I turn around and notice the pile creeping over the edge of my sink. My dishwasher is clean and I have to unload in order to re-load. I see the shoes on the floor, the pile of swim suits and towels, the three baskets of laundry waiting to be folded, the toys spread out on my bedroom floor from the last half hour of the day (I am always amazed at how quickly a clean room can be destroyed - even when under supervision). I check the clock. I need to get some sleep before I have to wake up with Ellie.
Oooops, I hear somebody crying. Gotta go!
Aaaaaah, retirement!
I had an immense realization today. I always feel guilty when I look to my husband for some empathy toward my incredibly busy day. After all, he has worked all day too, and his days are packed with meetings, deadlines, and competitive pressures.
But, today, I realized my husband does not have to roll out of bed whenever his eight-month old daughter dictates it is time to get up. He doesn't have to prepare a bottle with eyes half open from a Zyrtec hangover (it only took me three weeks on the medication to realize it wipes me out through the morning because I'm taking it too late at night). He doesn't have to pile four children into the car (after making sure they are all dressed and fed) to take one child to camp by 8 o'clock in the morning (he's probably just leaving the house by then).
But, wait! There's more. The day is only 1/5 over with. The baby falls asleep on the way to camp drop off, and I cringe as I have to put her in the stroller and wake her up just for a 3 minute walk upstairs to drop off our camper. We're back in the car before 8 minutes have passed (it takes longer to get the two little ones in and out of the stroller). We drive home, take three children out of the car, change two diapers, cut one child's long nails, make a call to try and change the appointment for the allergy doctor, change the laundry, pop in at the computer while the children are occupied with.... TV (I admit it), and pack up to leave for the next adventure. This took 45 minutes.
I made an executive decision. We would leave early, so Ellie (the baby) could fall asleep again and have a half hour nap. By the time we got in the car, it wasn't early anymore but Ellie didn't fall asleep anyways. Arriving at class, I set Ellie on the side in her stroller with some toys she could chew on. Aaron immediately put his headphones on and began playing games on the Leapster he was allowed to bring.
I have to say - the class went smoothly. Aaron stayed occupied except for when he became tangled in the wire of the headphones. Ellie needed the usual constant attention of giving her the toy she threw on the ground, changing the toys every now and then so she wouldn't get bored, and stopping once to give her something to drink. I remembered my one and only rule: "Don't get cocky!" I didn't let it get to my head.
But, I seriously doubt that my husband lays his daughter down his legs to change her diaper while the car cools off from the Arizona heat (we were in the shade). Isaac had his shirt off because he started chewing on it during class so I took my spare shirt, put it on him, yanked down his pants and changed his diaper, and set him in the car with two waters (he must have two of everything) and a piece of soy cheese. Aaron buckled himself into the back seat and I gave him his water and his... oh, no... where did his granola bar go? Well, Aaron got to choose between soy cheese and Gerber puffs. He chose the latter. It was 11:20, almost an hour past Ellie's usual lunch time. We had ten minutes before we had to leave (the parking lot) to get Ilan.
My car was still running. I fed Ellie a jar of sweet potatoes, a half jar of pears and mangoes and gave her a bottle. We left the parking lot to get Ilan at camp.
I pulled up to get Ilan, preparing to put Ellie and Isaac back in the stroller, ration out the "who gets to push the buttons on the elevator and automatic doors" and deal with the crying as I left Isaac in the hallway to step inside the room to get Ilan. Isaac and Ellie were asleep. Does that surprise you? I didn't want to disrupt HER nap AGAIN, nor did I want to deprive my stereotypical, crabby without a nap two-year old. I called the community college who put me through to continuing education, the department running the camp.
Just this once, they said, we will go and get your child for you. I stepped outside my car to wait, standing in the Arizona heat because I felt guilty someone else had to pick up my son for me. It seemed like forever but they finally came.
We left, returning home with the angst of wonder whether or not my sleeping babes would remain sleeping. Well, Ellie awoke during the ride home. Isaac stirred when I transferred him but I put him in bed anyways. I went to give Ellie a bottle and put her in her crib, hoping she'd go back down for a decent chunk of sleep. Then, I went back to the car to get Ilan's projects from science camp, our bag of food and drinks from the morning, and my diaper bag which can no longer be left in the car as usual because the wipes get dried out. Do you think it takes my husband this long or this many trips to get out of his car during the day at work? Nooooo... actually, he stays in the office all day. His food is catered by his company. He gets to work through lunch - just like I do.
I decided I was going to have lunch and have it in front of my computer. I quickly made lunch for Ilan and Aaron and told them they could sit at the table in the playroom and watch a show while they ate (oy!). I quickly made my lunch to the sound of .... screaming.... two children screaming. Neither Isaac nor Ellie were asleep. I did what any good mother would do - I turned off their monitors and went into my office with lunch in hand. I was going to grab five minutes to myself, no matter how long it took me!
Now, they are all up. Ellie is whining on the floor next to me while I finish typing. Isaac is sitting on the couch - sounds like he turned the TV on by himself (he's two). Ilan is getting his bathing suit on for his swim lesson (for which we will put the sun screen on the minute the swim teacher rings the bell), and Aaron is probably hiding under my bed in order to avoid his swim lesson.
My salad bowl from lunch is in the sink, the tomato is on the counter, the boys' plates are still in the playroom. I will regret this later on when I am "behind" in my rhythm and I have to catch up. But, right now, it's time to focus on swimming - Isaac crying because he wants to swim but not with Jeff, Ilan thinking he's good enough to be on a swim team and trying to get Jeff to teach him the things he think he should know, and Aaron whining about swimming until the second he gets into the pool... oh, yeah. And, I forgot about Ellie - who is now so incredibly tired but it's too late for a nap since she goes down for the night at 5.
Our day is about 1/3 over. If you want to hear about the other 2/3's, you'll have to check back later. Of COURSE, there are some details left out of the morning shift. I didn't want to bore you to DEATH.... just to retirement. Aaaaah, retirement.
But, today, I realized my husband does not have to roll out of bed whenever his eight-month old daughter dictates it is time to get up. He doesn't have to prepare a bottle with eyes half open from a Zyrtec hangover (it only took me three weeks on the medication to realize it wipes me out through the morning because I'm taking it too late at night). He doesn't have to pile four children into the car (after making sure they are all dressed and fed) to take one child to camp by 8 o'clock in the morning (he's probably just leaving the house by then).
But, wait! There's more. The day is only 1/5 over with. The baby falls asleep on the way to camp drop off, and I cringe as I have to put her in the stroller and wake her up just for a 3 minute walk upstairs to drop off our camper. We're back in the car before 8 minutes have passed (it takes longer to get the two little ones in and out of the stroller). We drive home, take three children out of the car, change two diapers, cut one child's long nails, make a call to try and change the appointment for the allergy doctor, change the laundry, pop in at the computer while the children are occupied with.... TV (I admit it), and pack up to leave for the next adventure. This took 45 minutes.
I made an executive decision. We would leave early, so Ellie (the baby) could fall asleep again and have a half hour nap. By the time we got in the car, it wasn't early anymore but Ellie didn't fall asleep anyways. Arriving at class, I set Ellie on the side in her stroller with some toys she could chew on. Aaron immediately put his headphones on and began playing games on the Leapster he was allowed to bring.
I have to say - the class went smoothly. Aaron stayed occupied except for when he became tangled in the wire of the headphones. Ellie needed the usual constant attention of giving her the toy she threw on the ground, changing the toys every now and then so she wouldn't get bored, and stopping once to give her something to drink. I remembered my one and only rule: "Don't get cocky!" I didn't let it get to my head.
But, I seriously doubt that my husband lays his daughter down his legs to change her diaper while the car cools off from the Arizona heat (we were in the shade). Isaac had his shirt off because he started chewing on it during class so I took my spare shirt, put it on him, yanked down his pants and changed his diaper, and set him in the car with two waters (he must have two of everything) and a piece of soy cheese. Aaron buckled himself into the back seat and I gave him his water and his... oh, no... where did his granola bar go? Well, Aaron got to choose between soy cheese and Gerber puffs. He chose the latter. It was 11:20, almost an hour past Ellie's usual lunch time. We had ten minutes before we had to leave (the parking lot) to get Ilan.
My car was still running. I fed Ellie a jar of sweet potatoes, a half jar of pears and mangoes and gave her a bottle. We left the parking lot to get Ilan at camp.
I pulled up to get Ilan, preparing to put Ellie and Isaac back in the stroller, ration out the "who gets to push the buttons on the elevator and automatic doors" and deal with the crying as I left Isaac in the hallway to step inside the room to get Ilan. Isaac and Ellie were asleep. Does that surprise you? I didn't want to disrupt HER nap AGAIN, nor did I want to deprive my stereotypical, crabby without a nap two-year old. I called the community college who put me through to continuing education, the department running the camp.
Just this once, they said, we will go and get your child for you. I stepped outside my car to wait, standing in the Arizona heat because I felt guilty someone else had to pick up my son for me. It seemed like forever but they finally came.
We left, returning home with the angst of wonder whether or not my sleeping babes would remain sleeping. Well, Ellie awoke during the ride home. Isaac stirred when I transferred him but I put him in bed anyways. I went to give Ellie a bottle and put her in her crib, hoping she'd go back down for a decent chunk of sleep. Then, I went back to the car to get Ilan's projects from science camp, our bag of food and drinks from the morning, and my diaper bag which can no longer be left in the car as usual because the wipes get dried out. Do you think it takes my husband this long or this many trips to get out of his car during the day at work? Nooooo... actually, he stays in the office all day. His food is catered by his company. He gets to work through lunch - just like I do.
I decided I was going to have lunch and have it in front of my computer. I quickly made lunch for Ilan and Aaron and told them they could sit at the table in the playroom and watch a show while they ate (oy!). I quickly made my lunch to the sound of .... screaming.... two children screaming. Neither Isaac nor Ellie were asleep. I did what any good mother would do - I turned off their monitors and went into my office with lunch in hand. I was going to grab five minutes to myself, no matter how long it took me!
Now, they are all up. Ellie is whining on the floor next to me while I finish typing. Isaac is sitting on the couch - sounds like he turned the TV on by himself (he's two). Ilan is getting his bathing suit on for his swim lesson (for which we will put the sun screen on the minute the swim teacher rings the bell), and Aaron is probably hiding under my bed in order to avoid his swim lesson.
My salad bowl from lunch is in the sink, the tomato is on the counter, the boys' plates are still in the playroom. I will regret this later on when I am "behind" in my rhythm and I have to catch up. But, right now, it's time to focus on swimming - Isaac crying because he wants to swim but not with Jeff, Ilan thinking he's good enough to be on a swim team and trying to get Jeff to teach him the things he think he should know, and Aaron whining about swimming until the second he gets into the pool... oh, yeah. And, I forgot about Ellie - who is now so incredibly tired but it's too late for a nap since she goes down for the night at 5.
Our day is about 1/3 over. If you want to hear about the other 2/3's, you'll have to check back later. Of COURSE, there are some details left out of the morning shift. I didn't want to bore you to DEATH.... just to retirement. Aaaaah, retirement.
June 18, 2007
Does every little second really matter?
How overboard am I going? With four children six and under in our house, I am constantly moving ~ I never walk through the house without something in my hands. "As long as I'm doing something, I'm getting it done." - that's what I always say.
I enjoy collecting organizing tips, learning how busy moms efficiently arrange their days, and discovering tricks for a smooth running life. Recently, at Get Organized Now (on the web), I read a reader tip for decreasing the time it takes to unload the dishwasher. This woman puts spoons in one section of the silverware holder, knives in another and forks in another. That way, when it's time to unload, she grabs the whole section and puts it away.
At first I thought that was a great idea. When I actually tried it, I realized I did not have enough sections in my dishwasher basket for proper categorization. Nor are the seconds saved (approximately 23) worth the effort of remembering and training yourself and the other members in your family to follow suit.
On the other hand, I know - having set my microwave oven for 40 seconds and then running around to accomplish as much as I possibly could in those forty seconds, that I could change a load of laundry from the washer to the dryer, turn off the running water that someone left running in the bathroom, run across the house to make sure my 8-month old who is sitting in the middle of my bed still hasn't learned how to roll over and grab a beverage to go with the bag of popcorn I just popped all before the timer goes off.
If you save 23 seconds at least once a day, that would be nearly 3 minutes per week or 12 minutes per month or an hour and forty-five minutes each year. Do you know what I could accomplish in an hour and forty-five minutes?
I enjoy collecting organizing tips, learning how busy moms efficiently arrange their days, and discovering tricks for a smooth running life. Recently, at Get Organized Now (on the web), I read a reader tip for decreasing the time it takes to unload the dishwasher. This woman puts spoons in one section of the silverware holder, knives in another and forks in another. That way, when it's time to unload, she grabs the whole section and puts it away.
At first I thought that was a great idea. When I actually tried it, I realized I did not have enough sections in my dishwasher basket for proper categorization. Nor are the seconds saved (approximately 23) worth the effort of remembering and training yourself and the other members in your family to follow suit.
On the other hand, I know - having set my microwave oven for 40 seconds and then running around to accomplish as much as I possibly could in those forty seconds, that I could change a load of laundry from the washer to the dryer, turn off the running water that someone left running in the bathroom, run across the house to make sure my 8-month old who is sitting in the middle of my bed still hasn't learned how to roll over and grab a beverage to go with the bag of popcorn I just popped all before the timer goes off.
If you save 23 seconds at least once a day, that would be nearly 3 minutes per week or 12 minutes per month or an hour and forty-five minutes each year. Do you know what I could accomplish in an hour and forty-five minutes?
February 8, 2007
CRISIS (a la) MODE
I don't know how they do it. Three out of our four children should be exhausted today, and - yet - they won't take naps. Isaac (almost 20 months) had a hard time falling asleep last night. It was after 9:00 before he finally settled down. His night time routine normally starts by 6:30, but because he had taken an extra long nap, we didn't start bedtime until 7:00. Still, by 9:00, he should have been sound asleep. Instead, I was rocking and singing to him for the third time that night.
Eliana (4 months) also should have been sleeping earlier than she was. She usually falls asleep between 5:00 and 8:00 and stays asleep for 6-8 hours. Instead, I was bouncing between her and Isaac. Nursing Eliana and singing to Isaac, nursing Eliana and rocking Isaac. Putting one down and running across the house to the other one. Once she was down, she only gave me 4 hours, so I was nursing her more than usual throughout the night.
And, then there's Ilan (5 1/2 years old). He went to sleep with a nasty cough. He came out of his room SEVERAL times. His neck hurt. His stomach hurt. He had a scratch on his back. He needed "cold, cold, very cold water". We, my husband and I, were getting fed up, despite the fact that Ilan did not feel good. He finally fell asleep and when I went to check on him, I heard a terrible wheeze - in his chest.
Having grown up with an asthma allergy, I knew that sound. I hated that sound. I knew what it felt like inside - besides having difficulty taking your breath, you shut down. The little whimpering noises he was making were all too familiar. His inability to fall asleep now made sense. He just didn't know what was going on in his body to tell us. Your head is kind of in a spin. You don't feel right.
I woke him up (as best I could) and told him to cough. It didn't get better. I had David (my husband) move Ilan to our bed so we could "listen" to him all night. I knew that probably meant no sleep for me as listening to wheezing was not a pleasant experience for me.
Around midnight, Ilan woke up and couldn't get back to sleep. He was coughing and we were trying to hush him. Eliana still sleeps in our room. Oh yeah... and Aaron (four years old) was in our bed by now also. He was a fairly quick wake up and fall back asleep but he was still taking up space in our bed and was another child to worry about waking.
I took Ilan to the bathroom to steam him - the first step to stopping an asthma attack when I was a child. It didn't help and he wanted to get up off the bathroom floor where I had made him a nice "comfortable" sleeping spot, hoping he'd just fall asleep there. I took him into our back room and propped him up on the couch with blankets and pillows. I laid down on the floor with the pillow from my room, a necessity for sleeping. But, there was no sleep. He couldn't stop coughing. He couldn't stop wheezing. He wanted to go to the doctor.
I woke David and we quickly figured out he would have to take Ilan to the emergency room since I had to be available to nurse Eliana. At 4:00am, they left. At 8:00am, they returned. I had nursed twice while they were gone, responded to Aaron waking up and falling back asleep and getting Isaac at 7:00 when he woke up. Ilan had a nebulizer treatment to help him breathe. He needed it every two hours for the first four hours and then every four hours after that. Problem was, at the time of the first treatment, we were going to be at the doctor's office for Ellie's four month WELL check.
I loaded Eliana, Isaac, Ilan and the nebulizer in the car. I forgot to bring the prescription amount. I forgot to bring my cell phone. Isaac pooped in the doctor's office. I left his diapers in the car because I figured I wouldn't need them. I decided to wait until we got home to give Ilan his treatment. Once we were in the doctor's office, Eliana peed after being weighed and before I put her new diaper on. The table and crinkly paper was all wet. I didn't have dry clothes. Isaac's poop smelled. Eliana had four shots. Ilan's treatment was an hour late.
I thought when we got home, everyone would be ready for a nap. I was. I was the only one. This is crisis mode, I thought. I am exhausted. How can they not be exhausted? How can they not just pass out? I nursed Eliana about four times before she finally fell asleep (in her swing). I gave up on Isaac's nap and gathered my energy (what energy?) for dealing with his EXTREME crabbiness. Ilan lay on the couch - ready to pass out at any minute but refusing to give in - for hours.
I went and got some ice cream from the freezer. CRISIS a la MODE.
Eliana (4 months) also should have been sleeping earlier than she was. She usually falls asleep between 5:00 and 8:00 and stays asleep for 6-8 hours. Instead, I was bouncing between her and Isaac. Nursing Eliana and singing to Isaac, nursing Eliana and rocking Isaac. Putting one down and running across the house to the other one. Once she was down, she only gave me 4 hours, so I was nursing her more than usual throughout the night.
And, then there's Ilan (5 1/2 years old). He went to sleep with a nasty cough. He came out of his room SEVERAL times. His neck hurt. His stomach hurt. He had a scratch on his back. He needed "cold, cold, very cold water". We, my husband and I, were getting fed up, despite the fact that Ilan did not feel good. He finally fell asleep and when I went to check on him, I heard a terrible wheeze - in his chest.
Having grown up with an asthma allergy, I knew that sound. I hated that sound. I knew what it felt like inside - besides having difficulty taking your breath, you shut down. The little whimpering noises he was making were all too familiar. His inability to fall asleep now made sense. He just didn't know what was going on in his body to tell us. Your head is kind of in a spin. You don't feel right.
I woke him up (as best I could) and told him to cough. It didn't get better. I had David (my husband) move Ilan to our bed so we could "listen" to him all night. I knew that probably meant no sleep for me as listening to wheezing was not a pleasant experience for me.
Around midnight, Ilan woke up and couldn't get back to sleep. He was coughing and we were trying to hush him. Eliana still sleeps in our room. Oh yeah... and Aaron (four years old) was in our bed by now also. He was a fairly quick wake up and fall back asleep but he was still taking up space in our bed and was another child to worry about waking.
I took Ilan to the bathroom to steam him - the first step to stopping an asthma attack when I was a child. It didn't help and he wanted to get up off the bathroom floor where I had made him a nice "comfortable" sleeping spot, hoping he'd just fall asleep there. I took him into our back room and propped him up on the couch with blankets and pillows. I laid down on the floor with the pillow from my room, a necessity for sleeping. But, there was no sleep. He couldn't stop coughing. He couldn't stop wheezing. He wanted to go to the doctor.
I woke David and we quickly figured out he would have to take Ilan to the emergency room since I had to be available to nurse Eliana. At 4:00am, they left. At 8:00am, they returned. I had nursed twice while they were gone, responded to Aaron waking up and falling back asleep and getting Isaac at 7:00 when he woke up. Ilan had a nebulizer treatment to help him breathe. He needed it every two hours for the first four hours and then every four hours after that. Problem was, at the time of the first treatment, we were going to be at the doctor's office for Ellie's four month WELL check.
I loaded Eliana, Isaac, Ilan and the nebulizer in the car. I forgot to bring the prescription amount. I forgot to bring my cell phone. Isaac pooped in the doctor's office. I left his diapers in the car because I figured I wouldn't need them. I decided to wait until we got home to give Ilan his treatment. Once we were in the doctor's office, Eliana peed after being weighed and before I put her new diaper on. The table and crinkly paper was all wet. I didn't have dry clothes. Isaac's poop smelled. Eliana had four shots. Ilan's treatment was an hour late.
I thought when we got home, everyone would be ready for a nap. I was. I was the only one. This is crisis mode, I thought. I am exhausted. How can they not be exhausted? How can they not just pass out? I nursed Eliana about four times before she finally fell asleep (in her swing). I gave up on Isaac's nap and gathered my energy (what energy?) for dealing with his EXTREME crabbiness. Ilan lay on the couch - ready to pass out at any minute but refusing to give in - for hours.
I went and got some ice cream from the freezer. CRISIS a la MODE.
February 6, 2007
Sometimes, I Don't Love You
It finally happened. I knew it would. I just didn't know what it would feel like.
My son told me "I love daddy more than you." First, he told my husband "I love you more than mommy." Then, he turned to me and innocently made it clear.
I've heard "I don't love you." plenty of times before. Somehow, this one was different. It brought stinging tears in my eyes. I asked my son to go sit in his room to think about his cruel words which is how we begin our path to apology... and then I got mad at my husband.
He was home from work early, having been out of town for the past two nights. He wanted to take the older boys miniature golfing. Isaac, 19 months, had fallen asleep in the car on the way to pick the boys up from school and he was going to stay at home. Eliana, 4 months, of course - would stay home.
But, Isaac woke up when I tried to put him in his crib. He was crabby from not having completed his nap. I didn't want to be stuck at home with that - I wanted to enjoy my husband's home-from-work-early day too.
Aaron was excited to go miniature golfing. I know that's where the four year old feeling came from. Daddy always gets to take the boys on fun outings. Mommy stays with the little ones. My husband, rightly so, wanted to take the boys out for an adventure to take advantage of his being home early and due to the fact that he is leaving the country for 12 days a little later this month.
I used to do fun things too. Ilan and Aaron were born 17 months apart. I used to pick Ilan up from school at 1:00 and drive down to the children's museum. We would hang out there for an hour and drive home. I would take them to the park. I did art projects with them. We spent time digging and planting and hunting for treasure in our backyard. We explored the world together.
Now, Ilan and Aaron are in school until 3:00 and 3:30 respectively. Isaac and Eliana are 16 months apart but still too young to do the things I used to do with Ilan and Aaron (though I have to say, I have taken all four out on brief outings - to the zoo, to the park, to the science museum). I need to remind myself of that and realize that their (and my) time will come. I also need to remind my husband of this - just to make myself feel better.
"You know, David," I said to him, "just because I stay at home with the children doesn't mean I get to do these fun things that you do all the time. I'd like to take advantage of you being home early too - especially since you are leaving town again and I'm going to have to operate in maintenance mode."
David offered for me to take the boys miniature golfing and he'd stay home. That wasn't the point. But, I appreciated the offer. I wanted him to have another glimpse into motherhood. I am constantly providing glimpses of motherhood for David, and he understands. And, he doesn't want my job.
In the meantime, I have to remember that everything is temporary. Everything passes by eventually. My days operating according to the very different routines of Eliana and Isaac will soon pass, and we will have morning adventures together. I won't have to stop what we are doing and nurse Ellie on the floor of a bathroom stall. I won't have to wake up Isaac from his much needed nap in order to pick up Aaron and then Ilan at school. I won't have to spend much of my day in the house because my children nap at different times.
Life goes by quickly, and I am sure I will miss the days when my youngest children were still babies. But, for now, I dream of future freedoms and await my moment of adventure with my children - when I will be looked upon as the really cool parent, the one who plays and creates fun things to do.
I heard Aaron calling me from his room - a first in the moments of "time to think about what we just did and how it made the other person feel". I went into his room.
"I'm ready to apologize," he said. Our family is working on apologizing with respect and really thinking about what we did that hurt the other person - thus, the minutes alone in the room.
"I'm sorry for... saying I loved Daddy better than you." In my mind, the apology went on... "really, I love you better because you are the one who makes sure I'm fed and that I wear the proper clothes to school. You're the one who keeps me on my routine and makes sure I get to bed on time. You're the one who knows that I like my hot dog outside of the bun, but I like to eat the bun too. You're the one, Mommy, who I really need.... even though you're not always so much fun." (a mom can dream, can't she?)
I gave Aaron a hug and told him that his words really hurt my feelings but thanked him for apologizing. "Is there anything I can do for you?", he continued. (something I learned from a friend that extends the apology and really shows the other person that you care about them and want to make up for what you did - thanks, Ayala)
"How about a hug?", I replied.
Aaron came over and gave me a tight squeeze. Then he walked out the door to go miniature golfing with his dad.
My son told me "I love daddy more than you." First, he told my husband "I love you more than mommy." Then, he turned to me and innocently made it clear.
I've heard "I don't love you." plenty of times before. Somehow, this one was different. It brought stinging tears in my eyes. I asked my son to go sit in his room to think about his cruel words which is how we begin our path to apology... and then I got mad at my husband.
He was home from work early, having been out of town for the past two nights. He wanted to take the older boys miniature golfing. Isaac, 19 months, had fallen asleep in the car on the way to pick the boys up from school and he was going to stay at home. Eliana, 4 months, of course - would stay home.
But, Isaac woke up when I tried to put him in his crib. He was crabby from not having completed his nap. I didn't want to be stuck at home with that - I wanted to enjoy my husband's home-from-work-early day too.
Aaron was excited to go miniature golfing. I know that's where the four year old feeling came from. Daddy always gets to take the boys on fun outings. Mommy stays with the little ones. My husband, rightly so, wanted to take the boys out for an adventure to take advantage of his being home early and due to the fact that he is leaving the country for 12 days a little later this month.
I used to do fun things too. Ilan and Aaron were born 17 months apart. I used to pick Ilan up from school at 1:00 and drive down to the children's museum. We would hang out there for an hour and drive home. I would take them to the park. I did art projects with them. We spent time digging and planting and hunting for treasure in our backyard. We explored the world together.
Now, Ilan and Aaron are in school until 3:00 and 3:30 respectively. Isaac and Eliana are 16 months apart but still too young to do the things I used to do with Ilan and Aaron (though I have to say, I have taken all four out on brief outings - to the zoo, to the park, to the science museum). I need to remind myself of that and realize that their (and my) time will come. I also need to remind my husband of this - just to make myself feel better.
"You know, David," I said to him, "just because I stay at home with the children doesn't mean I get to do these fun things that you do all the time. I'd like to take advantage of you being home early too - especially since you are leaving town again and I'm going to have to operate in maintenance mode."
David offered for me to take the boys miniature golfing and he'd stay home. That wasn't the point. But, I appreciated the offer. I wanted him to have another glimpse into motherhood. I am constantly providing glimpses of motherhood for David, and he understands. And, he doesn't want my job.
In the meantime, I have to remember that everything is temporary. Everything passes by eventually. My days operating according to the very different routines of Eliana and Isaac will soon pass, and we will have morning adventures together. I won't have to stop what we are doing and nurse Ellie on the floor of a bathroom stall. I won't have to wake up Isaac from his much needed nap in order to pick up Aaron and then Ilan at school. I won't have to spend much of my day in the house because my children nap at different times.
Life goes by quickly, and I am sure I will miss the days when my youngest children were still babies. But, for now, I dream of future freedoms and await my moment of adventure with my children - when I will be looked upon as the really cool parent, the one who plays and creates fun things to do.
I heard Aaron calling me from his room - a first in the moments of "time to think about what we just did and how it made the other person feel". I went into his room.
"I'm ready to apologize," he said. Our family is working on apologizing with respect and really thinking about what we did that hurt the other person - thus, the minutes alone in the room.
"I'm sorry for... saying I loved Daddy better than you." In my mind, the apology went on... "really, I love you better because you are the one who makes sure I'm fed and that I wear the proper clothes to school. You're the one who keeps me on my routine and makes sure I get to bed on time. You're the one who knows that I like my hot dog outside of the bun, but I like to eat the bun too. You're the one, Mommy, who I really need.... even though you're not always so much fun." (a mom can dream, can't she?)
I gave Aaron a hug and told him that his words really hurt my feelings but thanked him for apologizing. "Is there anything I can do for you?", he continued. (something I learned from a friend that extends the apology and really shows the other person that you care about them and want to make up for what you did - thanks, Ayala)
"How about a hug?", I replied.
Aaron came over and gave me a tight squeeze. Then he walked out the door to go miniature golfing with his dad.
January 25, 2007
We Need Another Mommy in the House
I've been sick for three weeks. It started with losing my voice and went on to fever, repiratory problems and hives. Hives are the most recent edition and they are unlike any hives I have ever experienced before. They are huge, red welts all over my legs and other extremities including my ear lobes, elbows and rear end. They hurt like bruises and prevent me from sitting on my knees and playing on the floor with my children. They hurt in my joints even where I cannot see them - making it difficult to lift the baby in her car seat.
I went to the allergist yesterday. My appointment was at 2:00, and I have to pick up my son, Aaron, at 3:00. I called the school and spoke to Lois at the front desk. No problem, she said, if I was late, Aaron could go into after care and I would just pay the difference. But Lois didn't tell Aaron's teacher. And, at 3:30, as I was getting blood drawn, my cell phone rang. Miss Amy wanted to know if I was ok and where I was. I panicked. Aaron is the child who you need to forewarn when changes in life are going to happen. I told Miss Amy I was on my way.
When I ran into Aaron's classroom ready for tears and anger, I was - instead - ignored. Miss Amy stayed late and didn't even tell Aaron about aftercare. He had Miss Amy and all her toys all to himself, and he wasn't ready to leave when I arrived. Thank G-d for the Miss Amy's in the world.
I went to fill the ninety prescriptions the allergist gave me and double checked with the Pharmacist, as I always do, if they were safe to take while nursing. The Pharmacist said "no" on all of them. I went home without any relief.
Today, I went to my regular internist. I wanted to make sure these welts were not a virus or something other than allergic hives. When the doc walked in and saw me, he said "Oh my, isn't that interesting?" He looked at my chart, noted that my blood sugars were high from the tests I had when I was first sick three weeks ago and saw that I had had an allergic reaction to the Penicillian they prescribed two weeks ago. He didn't think the hives now could be from that first reaction. And, he wanted to do more blood tests to find out why my sugars were high.
Oh, and did I mention that on the way to this appointment, my son, Ilan's school called. He had been caught on the bottom of a pile up after lunch and hurt his neck. I had to go pick him up early. He wanted to come home. The wind was knocked out of him, the Assistant Principal said, but I should go to my doctor's appointment first and then come to school.
The doctor decided I needed a shot of Benedryl (in my rear end, between hives) as a first step. I have to go back tomorrow for the blood work since I had to leave to get Ilan and I was already feeling guilty for putting myself first. We called the Pediatrician who gave me permission to take some of the prescriptions the Allergist had given me. And, I had to come back on Monday to see the doc again.
I went to get Ilan. No one told me the shot area would sting and hurt (the nurse confirmed this as I was walking out) and that it would be difficult to walk. No one told me I would feel dizzy, tired and unable to do much though I should have known had I really thought about it. I picked up Ilan. He was fine - just shaken up from his experience, but he had fun in the Assistant Principal's office while he was waiting for me and enjoyed the attention from his classmates when we went to get his backpack. We went to Aaron's school to pick him up and then I passed out as my babysitter took over.
My husband who is away on business received an email from me detailing my experiences and asking him to, please keep me, but to get another wife. We need another Mommy in the house, I told him. He wrote back turning my woes into a rhyming Haiku and told me I should write a book. I told him to get me the other Mommy and I'd have time to do it.
I went to the allergist yesterday. My appointment was at 2:00, and I have to pick up my son, Aaron, at 3:00. I called the school and spoke to Lois at the front desk. No problem, she said, if I was late, Aaron could go into after care and I would just pay the difference. But Lois didn't tell Aaron's teacher. And, at 3:30, as I was getting blood drawn, my cell phone rang. Miss Amy wanted to know if I was ok and where I was. I panicked. Aaron is the child who you need to forewarn when changes in life are going to happen. I told Miss Amy I was on my way.
When I ran into Aaron's classroom ready for tears and anger, I was - instead - ignored. Miss Amy stayed late and didn't even tell Aaron about aftercare. He had Miss Amy and all her toys all to himself, and he wasn't ready to leave when I arrived. Thank G-d for the Miss Amy's in the world.
I went to fill the ninety prescriptions the allergist gave me and double checked with the Pharmacist, as I always do, if they were safe to take while nursing. The Pharmacist said "no" on all of them. I went home without any relief.
Today, I went to my regular internist. I wanted to make sure these welts were not a virus or something other than allergic hives. When the doc walked in and saw me, he said "Oh my, isn't that interesting?" He looked at my chart, noted that my blood sugars were high from the tests I had when I was first sick three weeks ago and saw that I had had an allergic reaction to the Penicillian they prescribed two weeks ago. He didn't think the hives now could be from that first reaction. And, he wanted to do more blood tests to find out why my sugars were high.
Oh, and did I mention that on the way to this appointment, my son, Ilan's school called. He had been caught on the bottom of a pile up after lunch and hurt his neck. I had to go pick him up early. He wanted to come home. The wind was knocked out of him, the Assistant Principal said, but I should go to my doctor's appointment first and then come to school.
The doctor decided I needed a shot of Benedryl (in my rear end, between hives) as a first step. I have to go back tomorrow for the blood work since I had to leave to get Ilan and I was already feeling guilty for putting myself first. We called the Pediatrician who gave me permission to take some of the prescriptions the Allergist had given me. And, I had to come back on Monday to see the doc again.
I went to get Ilan. No one told me the shot area would sting and hurt (the nurse confirmed this as I was walking out) and that it would be difficult to walk. No one told me I would feel dizzy, tired and unable to do much though I should have known had I really thought about it. I picked up Ilan. He was fine - just shaken up from his experience, but he had fun in the Assistant Principal's office while he was waiting for me and enjoyed the attention from his classmates when we went to get his backpack. We went to Aaron's school to pick him up and then I passed out as my babysitter took over.
My husband who is away on business received an email from me detailing my experiences and asking him to, please keep me, but to get another wife. We need another Mommy in the house, I told him. He wrote back turning my woes into a rhyming Haiku and told me I should write a book. I told him to get me the other Mommy and I'd have time to do it.
January 8, 2007
One of the primary goals of my life coaching business is helping moms realize the need for self care. By taking care of themselves (exercising, eating right and – most importantly – taking TIME for themselves), they will be better parents for their children (not to mention role modeling an exceptional value). At ON THE VERGE OF… ME, we assist moms as they rediscover themselves throughout motherhood. We work to eliminate barriers that prevent moms from pursuing things for themselves. We examine the mundane tasks of motherhood and work to change their perspectives and attitudes toward them. We help them redefine or rediscover their values, their passions and who they want to be.
Several times in the last few weeks, people have said to me (doctors, friends, teachers at my son’s school) that I needed to “take a break”, “take care of my self”, or “take some time for ME”. Each time, my inside reaction was “Hey! That’s what my business is all about!” Was I not walking my talk?
Of course I was. I was reminded of a lecture I attended many years before given by Dan Millman, author of The Way of the Peaceful Warrior among several other books. As he stood before us talking about living your Truth and living life with the proper attitudes and actions, I questioned him. “Are you always ON?” I asked, “Even if you (try to) live as you are saying, don’t you ever fall or struggle?”
“Certainly”, was the answer. But, he had the tools to get through the mucky times. He knew how to pick himself up or put a plan in place to overcome what he needed to. He knew what his values were and, if he was living off course from his values, he could readjust his life.
I have been sick for two weeks. First it was minor and I could still function through it. Then I lost my voice – and I could still function – but I couldn’t speak. Then I had a fever, the aches and chills and was absolutely miserable for about two days. My washing machine broke during this time. My babysitter was also out sick and the person who cleans my home was away for a week.
I am days behind in my household management. One of my values is not having a chaotically messy home and staying on top of everything. There was no way I could do that in the last couple of days, and it's amazing how far behind you can get by letting one day go by. BUT, I have the tools to create a plan to catch up without too much angst (I can ask my sitter to stay a little longer). I know what I need to do in reasonable limits to get where I need to be (we can live in a semi-messy home for a few days). I know that I have to take time to rest and not jump back into life full force and I know that this will benefit my family and me more in the long run (I can schedule play dates for my two older children). I can be creative in my solutions (bring a friend coffee while I use her washing machine).
Walking your talk or living your Truth is simply knowing what you need to do to stay on track. We all sway from our paths. We all get overwhelmed. We all must develop the tools and create plans to keep us going in a straight line.
Several times in the last few weeks, people have said to me (doctors, friends, teachers at my son’s school) that I needed to “take a break”, “take care of my self”, or “take some time for ME”. Each time, my inside reaction was “Hey! That’s what my business is all about!” Was I not walking my talk?
Of course I was. I was reminded of a lecture I attended many years before given by Dan Millman, author of The Way of the Peaceful Warrior among several other books. As he stood before us talking about living your Truth and living life with the proper attitudes and actions, I questioned him. “Are you always ON?” I asked, “Even if you (try to) live as you are saying, don’t you ever fall or struggle?”
“Certainly”, was the answer. But, he had the tools to get through the mucky times. He knew how to pick himself up or put a plan in place to overcome what he needed to. He knew what his values were and, if he was living off course from his values, he could readjust his life.
I have been sick for two weeks. First it was minor and I could still function through it. Then I lost my voice – and I could still function – but I couldn’t speak. Then I had a fever, the aches and chills and was absolutely miserable for about two days. My washing machine broke during this time. My babysitter was also out sick and the person who cleans my home was away for a week.
I am days behind in my household management. One of my values is not having a chaotically messy home and staying on top of everything. There was no way I could do that in the last couple of days, and it's amazing how far behind you can get by letting one day go by. BUT, I have the tools to create a plan to catch up without too much angst (I can ask my sitter to stay a little longer). I know what I need to do in reasonable limits to get where I need to be (we can live in a semi-messy home for a few days). I know that I have to take time to rest and not jump back into life full force and I know that this will benefit my family and me more in the long run (I can schedule play dates for my two older children). I can be creative in my solutions (bring a friend coffee while I use her washing machine).
Walking your talk or living your Truth is simply knowing what you need to do to stay on track. We all sway from our paths. We all get overwhelmed. We all must develop the tools and create plans to keep us going in a straight line.
January 3, 2007
Bouncing From Child to Child & Moment to Moment
I finally figured out why I've been eating so much. I delivered our fourth child on October 8th of this year (that's not why). During the pregnancy, I had gestational diabetes (that's not why either... be patient). I used that time to redevelop better eating habits that I once maintained in my life. I figured it was a great jump start to continuing the path of healthy eating after I delivered. But the second I delivered, I was allowed to eat sugar again. I had to celebrate - both the delivery of our baby and the disappearance of the diabetes - with, what else? a cookie! Sugar just leads to more sugar for me.... and so it began. But that's not answering the question of why I've been eating so much.
I'm nursing. I'm burning more calories, I need to consume more calories (that's not why). I went for my six week appointment and actually weighed less than my pre-pregnancy weight (my pre-pregnancy weight included 10-15 extra pounds that I never lost from children numbers one, two and three). I got a little cocky with that weight and immediately began eating more - of everything. My stomach has popped (way) out again... but that's not WHY I've been eating so much.
My husband left town this week for two nights (nope! that's not why either). My babysitter has been sick all week. The person who helps keep my house clean and organized has been gone all week. I've been a little under the weather - my throat HURTS - and I'm taking antibiotics. The night before my husband left, I moaned to him about how difficult the next couple of days were going to be. He naively stated that he had no doubt I could handle it - easy as pie. I reminded him that he had been home for two hours before we ended up at the table sitting across from each other, eating and talking and that all we had done for the last two hours was bounce back and forth between one of four children. Literally. This one's whining too much and he's caught in a power struggle... SWITCH. This one needs to brush his teeth and I can't stand watching people brush their teeth... SWITCH! The baby needs her diaper changed and I need a break from being latched to her... SWITCH! The 18 month old needs his pajamas on.... You do that while I nurse the baby then I'll take him and put him to bed while you put '5years old' and '4years old' into their pajamas and start reading to them. Then, I'll take over and get them into bed since it takes you 45 minutes to do that. While I'm tucking them in, you get their water ready. I'll come out of their room, get their water and bring it back in. Then we can eat the dinner that's been sitting in the oven for the last two hours getting hot and crunchy. Which is exactly where we were at the beginning of this paragraph.
And, now - after one day of my husband gone... did he just leave this morning? I know why I have to eat so much.... the more I eat, the better I bounce.
I'm nursing. I'm burning more calories, I need to consume more calories (that's not why). I went for my six week appointment and actually weighed less than my pre-pregnancy weight (my pre-pregnancy weight included 10-15 extra pounds that I never lost from children numbers one, two and three). I got a little cocky with that weight and immediately began eating more - of everything. My stomach has popped (way) out again... but that's not WHY I've been eating so much.
My husband left town this week for two nights (nope! that's not why either). My babysitter has been sick all week. The person who helps keep my house clean and organized has been gone all week. I've been a little under the weather - my throat HURTS - and I'm taking antibiotics. The night before my husband left, I moaned to him about how difficult the next couple of days were going to be. He naively stated that he had no doubt I could handle it - easy as pie. I reminded him that he had been home for two hours before we ended up at the table sitting across from each other, eating and talking and that all we had done for the last two hours was bounce back and forth between one of four children. Literally. This one's whining too much and he's caught in a power struggle... SWITCH. This one needs to brush his teeth and I can't stand watching people brush their teeth... SWITCH! The baby needs her diaper changed and I need a break from being latched to her... SWITCH! The 18 month old needs his pajamas on.... You do that while I nurse the baby then I'll take him and put him to bed while you put '5years old' and '4years old' into their pajamas and start reading to them. Then, I'll take over and get them into bed since it takes you 45 minutes to do that. While I'm tucking them in, you get their water ready. I'll come out of their room, get their water and bring it back in. Then we can eat the dinner that's been sitting in the oven for the last two hours getting hot and crunchy. Which is exactly where we were at the beginning of this paragraph.
And, now - after one day of my husband gone... did he just leave this morning? I know why I have to eat so much.... the more I eat, the better I bounce.
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