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?
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