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!

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.

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?