We Survive March with Exhaustion

I plan on showing everyone a picture of Kirsti's new haircut. To be clear, I cut it, not her. Plus, I took her to a salon later that week and had it fixed; it looks great now. Anyway, I will post a picture soon.

But first I thought I would explain my lack of posting last month. The best explanation would be a repost from my extended family's monthly blog. No obligation to read it as it is long, picture heavy, and we CRAMMED a lot into the month. My goal is to fit blogging into my schedule somehow because it really helps me keep a good perspective.

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Isn't March supposed to enter like a lion and leave like a lamb? 'Cause last month did enter like a lion, but it exited like a T-Rex on steroids. So take a deep breath, strap in and get ready for an UPDATE.

The month started with Peter leaving me. Don't worry, it was just for the weekend (give or take). He went down with his brothers and in-laws to BYU's basketball league playoffs. They all had fun, even if BYU lost on Saturday, but their flight home wasn't until Tuesday (Who, you may be asking, designed a tournament that ends on Monday? Someone who wants people to not attend next year.)

He is still losing crazy weight and gaining crazy muscle with P90X. Even with a Las Vegas vacation thrown in, he hasn't broken his diet or missed a workout. He and Elise are almost at their halfway point.

Elise turned 15 this month! She asked if she could throw a party if she paid for it and did all the work. I agreed. And then cleaned the whole house, took her to the store, bought pizzas. chaperoned, drove all over town looking for the right cake display, and fixed the cake when she found out it wasn't as easy to decorate as Mom makes it seem. And freaked out because -HELLO- SHE'S 15! Good thing she did all the work. She actually did all the planning, decorating, inviting, entertainment, and snacks and paid for all but the pizza, so I was impressed.

This month she also registered for her sophomore year. She went with a friend to the midnight showing of the Hunger Games. She's also doing great with P90X.

Ryan has kept me hopping this month. He had an archery competition half way through the month which meant the first two weeks he had practices before and after school every day. The competition was two hours away and ALL DAY LONG. But he had fun and I enjoyed watching him. He also had a band concert. Good thing he told us about it, bad thing it was the morning of the concert! He is playing the percussion with the large yellow arrow over his head. He registered for his freshman year of high school and has become obsessed with the Rubik Cube. This month he baked a pie for Pi Day and baked a cake for the last day of chess club.

Ethan and Kirsti finished up hockey after school twice a week. They also finished up Math Club and Chess Club. Now I just have Strings for Kirsti before school three times a week and Spring Training (an athletic exercise modge podge) after school once a week for Ethan, Kirsti, and Joseph.


Ryan, Ethan, Kirsti, and Joseph all ran in a Leprechaun Race. It was a mile and the older 3 all ran it faster than I could. Even Joseph was close.

Ethan had a science fair this month and, much to my surprise, we managed to get it done on time! Kirsti had a stake Activity Day activity that lasted from 2 till 8 on a Friday. Guess who was one of the volunteers? Yep, me. Guess what day it was? (Hint: the day before the all day archery competition.)

Joseph, Kirsti and Ethan all went to Jump Rope for Heart. They also dressed up for Character Day to celebrate Dr. Suess's Birthday. The book they're holding is where their characters came from.

Of course this month also included our annual Pi Day celebration. Ryan baked his Pi pie. I made T-shirts (Pi make the world go Round) and we ate pizza pie for dinner with chocolate pie for dessert. Matthew made the pie at special days with his cousins. I was nice and included the lesser holiday (St Patrick's Day) hats, too.

And finally, the T-Rex of our March schedule: baseball. This year we have 4 kids playing on 3 different teams. That is a total of 7-9 practices and 5-6 games per week. Ethan has already started games and has pitched for the first time and did great. He is hitting the ball (even swinging is an improvement from last year!) and is a lot faster than last year. Kirsti, Joseph, and Matthew have all started practices last week and will begin games after spring break next week. I am enjoying it a lot more this year. Partly because their practices are all a lot closer to home, partly because I know to bring my chair, blanket and a nice hot chocolate cup, and partly because this year I managed to avoid getting hit in the face with the ball at the first game.

I am still hitting the gym twice a week. I am slowly getting faster with my runs. With all the driving around, I'm reading much and cleaning little. I read 8 books last month, but only posted once. We finally got a new rug for the front room and living room. It changed the look of the rooms a lot and we love it!

The month ended with a neighborhood Easter Egg hunt and general conference. And if I missed pictures of the event, I'll just blame exhaustion.

I'll just call it the Ernie Hair Cut

I adored Sesame Street as a child. Unfortunately, when it came time to pass hand down this love to my own children, I found the show had become polluted with obnoxious, wall-coloring, red monsters, non-imaginary Snuffleupaguses, and overkill on political correctness. But this post is about that most beloved, entertaining, and educational show of memory .

More specifically about Bert and Ernie. How I loved that rapscallion puppet named Ernie! Although I confess I loved Bert a tiny bit more with his long suffering sighs.

Remember the time Ernie was alone with Burt's cookies? Temptation overwhelmed and he soon took a small nibble on one. But, oh no! The cookie was now uneven and a correcting nibble was needed. And then another and another until finally the cookie was gone.

I don't know why I thought of that skit this morning. Might have something to do with this:

P.S. My daughter, who managed learned optimism without any Sesame Street lessons, took it all in good measure. "It's hair, it will grow back. And now I don't have to pull it all the way over my shoulder to brush it." In fact, it barely touches her shoulders now.

For comparison, here is what it looked like on Friday. Note the length even after making six braids and braiding them into one. And yes, she is wearing fairy wings, pointy ears and a tiara to school. And her brother is wearing a suit in the background. Isn't that how your kids always dress for school?

P.P.S. Fine, just kidding. In honor of Dr Seuss's birthday the school allowed the kids to dress as characters from favorite books. I even have a front facing picture. Ethan was Artemis Fowl, Kirsti was the Fairy Queen from Fablehaven and Joseph was Pip, one of the dragons in Pillage.

And now I find myself craving cookies.

C is for Cookie. that's good enough for me...

A Walk on the Wild Side?

Matthew's voice piped up from the back seat of the car this afternoon. Mom, guess what? I have a new precious game on the iPad. 

At first I thought this was type of game, like saying I have a new -withFriends game or I have a new Tower Defense game. But something about the word precious tickled my memory. Has he been using that word a lot lately?

Curiosity got to me, so I dove into my mother gut to see what I could find. I went past The Dishwasher Needs Loaded When I Get Home and took a left at Did I Remember To Sign That School Sheet?

A quick trip over Is It Time For THAT Talk Again? and around Do My Kids Have Enough Friends?

 Ah, I'm getting closer now. Stay away from that dark, shadowy  Am I A Good Enough Mother?, nothing good over there.

Hmm, maybe between The Kids Are Watching Too Much TV and The Kids Need To Be Better At Chores. Ah, there it is:

The intersection of Kid Speak and Mother Intuition.

Matthew, do you mean you have a new game you like to play best?

Yes, Mom. Like I said, a new precious game.

Thanks to Lord of the Rings, my child has confused the meaning of favorite and precious.

(I'm pretty sure there should be a spot in there called  My Child's Favorite- Precious?- Movie Is Lord of the Rings, but I've yet to find it!)

 

Unrequited Friendship

I thought I had a pleasant circle of friends. We saw each other several times a month and I liked and respected them. They had young children like I did, and we had similar interests, struggles, dreams, and ideas. I knew they, like myself, were trying to be the best they could. Then one day, through an inadvertant mention in an unrelated group email, I found they had a monthly girls' night doing a hobby we all enjoyed. Without getting too bogged in details, there was no possibility I had been overlooked (I had even mentioned a few times that such a night would be fun, but everyone always seemed strangely disinterested); I'd been deliberately not invited. In fact, obvious effort must have been made to not mention this group in front of me. For whatever reason, my presence was undesirable.

It didn't help that not long after, I was given a Christmas letter from one of the women where she went on about several large parties she had thrown throughout the year where she and her husband had invited ALL their friends. I've never been sure why she felt a need to give me the letter without giving me a single invitation. But it compounded the still recent sting.

I was humiliated and heartbroken. I thought I had friends who liked me, but I was more a tolerated ... what? Acquaintance? Annoyance? Affliction? The worst part was I still knew these women were good women. I couldn't feel bitterness towards them, I had simply misunderstood our relationship. It had been my mistake. If my attendance made their night out unpleasant enough to go to the trouble to hide it from me, I couldn't begrudge them not asking me. After all, at the stage of life we were all in, these nights out would be rare and meant to be fun. I took it as a kindness (if a little misguided) that they went out of their way to keep me ignorant. In fact, a few years later I found myself on the opposite side of a similar situation and understood their position even better.

I learned a lot through this experience. I learned that liking me was not a prerequisite for goodness. Compatibility with me doesn't have a monopoly on kindness, hard work, or happiness. I also learned that,  despite what other people thought of me, I liked myself well enough. In fact, I see this as the genesis of feeling comfortable in my own skin and letting others learn to do the same.

Our family's next couple moves were to places where people were more, um, direct about their feelings and more embracing of eccentricities. I continued to grow from its the lessons, but rarely thought about that less-than-pleasant situation.

But since moving here, I've found myself reflecting again on that time. Recently I've realized I do carry some negative baggage I picked up all those years ago: I'm frightened of unrequited friendships. Obviously, I'm not great at reading social cues about friendship and I don't know if I can handle making friends only to find I really haven't. To learn to care for and admire women who simply don't reciprocate. I don't want to be tolerated, I want to be friended. Coupled with my natural shyness this has kept me isolated, probably a little prickly, and (I suspect) not responsive to more subtle attempts at friendship.

Now that I've identified a problem, maybe I can move forward. My comfort zone needs expanded a little bit, and I need to risk getting hurt. Another hard lesson learned. Getting wiser, not just older, is a difficult thing sometimes.

 

Uterus versus the Mail

We love in our hearts and think in our brains. Intuition begins in the gut and weather forecasts in our joints. We even believe with every fiber of our being. But do you know what part of the body we use to find things? Is it our eyes, our brain, or maybe our fingers?

Nope. According to Pennsylvania folklore, we use our uterus to find things. That is why men can't do it and why, when we lived in PA, it was not uncommon to hear something along these lines: "Ever since my hysterectomy, I can never find my car keys."

My uterus has been in charge of looking for things ever since.

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Today Peter couldn't find some mail. He remembered setting it down a couple weeks ago "somewhere special" so he wouldn't lose it. He just couldn't remember where this special spot was hiding. I would have helped him look, but I was busy doing other important things, like reading blogs and checking Facebook. I mean, it wasn't that big of a deal; it was only the soon-to-be-overdue renewal of his State Medical License.

So he looked and I ... sat at the computer. And he looked and I ... loaded the dishwasher. And he looked and I ... picked the kids up from school. And he looked and I ... sat at the computer again.

A couple hours later, panic was beginning to build and there was real threat of the house being torn apart. I finally decided I might be a little sad (and hungry) if my husband lost his ability to work. Besides, I'd finished reading blogs for the moment. So I got up, walked to our bedroom, and found it in a pile of papers on our dresser. A piece of mail I'd never seen in a pile I'd never noticed before. It took less than thirty seconds.

"Don't worry," I said as I brought them back downstairs, "Maybe someday you can grow a uterus, too."

"Thanks," he replied, "Can you find me an envelope?"

A Snow Day or Three

I am a creature of routine. Unexpected changes make me a grouchy, grouchy Mom. But there is something magical about snow days. Even though plans fly out the window, there still lingers my childhood excitement of SNOW DAYS and CANCELLED SCHOOL. Even though it goes against every part of my personality, I love, LOVE, LOVE snow days.

This year I was lucky; Peter had the whole week off, so we hibernated together. We braved the roads several times to keep a supply of Redbox on hand.

Can you tell how much I LOVE being cold. I would have covered my eyes, too, if they weren't required for walking without falling down.

We found a great hill for sledding. Despite what it looks like, Joseph had a blast.

Matthew learned that when we tell him to wear a scarf, he probably should. Never fear, I shared mine until he decided it was too hard to walk in. (Don't ask me, I don't know why a scarf made it hard to walk, either.)

After sledding and our second bout of driveway shoveling, we went out for lunch and hot chocolate. We kept thinking the roads would get better as we moved towards busier ones, but apparently our new home town doesn't do a great job with snow plowing. In fact, none of the roads looked like they'd been plowed at all! Even the freeways. I'm glad our new Suburban has 4-wheel drive. Still, we kept driving to our destination. After all, we needed to change things up so we could 

...do exactly what we were doing at home.

Then there is the daylong pause where we did nothing and have no pictures to prove it. Well Ryan went to an overnight scout camp, Peter took the kids sledding again, and I went to a GNO, but other than that, NOTHING.

When the roads finally started to melt, we let the kids get out some pent up energy at the local skating rink.

And nothing finishes off snow days like Blizzards from DQ.

The temperature has risen, the snowy roads have melted, and we are all back on routine- or we will be, starting tomorrow. The kids had today off for semester break, even though school was cancelled during finals and the semester is now extended two days. Now I need to dig out of some major housework; hibernation is a messy thing when you have six kids!

What is this gratitude of which you speak?

Sitting at the kitchen counter, minding my own business and resting after another exhausting shopping trip, my reverie was broken when my son decided he must speak his mind. "Mom, thanks so much for buying those pudding cups you know I like. That was really nice of you."

Say WHAT?!?

Absolute shock: a face usually reserved for stepping on an entire tube worth of toothpaste on the bathroom floor or finding my best scissors used on fruit leather or, better yet, the real leather chair.
It crosses my face often enough that its appearance evoked no special attention. I was surprised, however, he didn't notice when I almost fell off the stool.

"You're ... welcome?" I tentatively reply after regaining my composure- and balance; more surprised his follow up was a hug and not a request for extra computer time.

It gets weirder.

Over the next several days I was thanked for waking someone up in the morning, driving a kid to school, making a favorite dinner, fixing a pair of pants. The thoughtful thanks just kept rolling out off their tongues!

So much for motherhood being a thankless job. Somehow my children actually noticed the things I do on a regular basis. And they appreciated it. Enough to tell me. I checked their biological clocks and they were at least a decade or two ahead of schedule. I couldn't figure out what kind of alternative universe I'd entered, but I can't say I didn't enjoy it.

While it lasted, anyway.

A couple weeks later I was once again at the counter resting my shopping-sore feet. "You bought pudding cups? But I wanted granola bars!" Ah, to that I know how to respond. (Cue up the You-Want-To-Go-There-? face and watch the kid scamper upstairs, bemoaning the cruelty of his insensitive mother). Guess I accidentally hit the reset button on those biological clocks. Oops.

This picture has nothing whatsoever to do with the post. I just like it.

Insanity is the new Settled Down

There are a million things I'm going to do when life settles down. Two weeks into the new year, I reluctantly faced the reality that this is as settled as life is going to get. Insanity is the new Settled Down.

I came to this conclusion in the middle of Costco. With all six kids in tow. At dinnertime.

Two pairs of glasses needed picked up (Kirsti and Ryan) and two different prescriptions for glasses needed dropped off (Elise and me); or in other words I was exchanging my bank account for half the family's proper eye sight. The first 3 days of the week had failed to provide any opportunity for the trip. Or, in more honest terms, I was able to find ample procrastination fodder. You see both teenagers had to be with me: one for fitting the glasses and the other for choosing the frames. Since Peter worked evenings all week, I had an all-or-nothing choice for bringing the kids. I chose"nothing" for as long as possible, but guilt finally made me go with "all."

Hotdogs and churros was the promised reward for good behavior, or at least better than devilish behavior. "If you don't stop wrestling across the optical center floor you're not getting Costco hotdogs.". It was also the bribe for making the kids wait all week to get their new glasses. "I know we need to go, but if you just wait until Thursday there'll be a Costco hotdog in it for you." It was also an excuse to not make dinner. What? I meant I LOVE making a huge mess in the kitchen everyday so at least one kid can complain about the menu. It makes my life worth living. Buying mystery meat and smothering it in ketchup was a sacrifice on my part. No, really.


So anyway, we can all see again, I've begrudgingly embraced reality again, I've found insanity suits me again and Costco didn't even revoke my membership. Just another day in my nice, settled life.

 

How my household is sleeping (or not) tonight.

I would like to apologize right now to my poor kids' teachers. You see, they are still awake and it is way past bedtime. We sent them to bed earlier, but for some reason they aren't sleeping tonight. Our 7-year-old just loudly threatened to tell on our 10-year-old for turning out his bedroom light. We were torn between reprimanding the latter- "Leave your brother alone!" and "Why are you not in your own room?"- or reprimanding the former- "Why is your light BACK ON?"

Kind of like the Tattle-telling About Open Eyes During Prayer dilemma.

 For the record, we reprimanded both. And NOT in our sweetest voices.

Anyway, I feel now like we should have gone with the Pretend You Didn't Hear Them So You Can Believe They're All Actually Asleep route. We'd save my vocal cords and not feel guilt for their teachers tomorrow. After all  Peter worked two twelve hour shifts this weekend, leaving me solo with all six kids both days long, so we're both entitled to a little self delusion.

Speaking of sleep, my husband is a couch sleeper. Not is a bad marriage sort of way, but in an I'm not tired yet, I'll be up in a zzzzzzzzzzzzz sort of way. Drives me slightly crazy, but he might come to bed more often if I didn't sleep-complain about the noise level of the TV. Hey, I can't help what I do after I'm already asleep. (Which is, incidentally, the same argument he makes for the couch sleeping.)

Would it be bad to sneak melatonin into his Diet Coke? So he would be tired enough to come to bed when his fuddy-duddy-early-bed-time wife does? It's not like I'm sneaking in Viagra or Arsenic or anything. It's like sneaking vegetables into brownies. Only with a natural sleep aid that I'm half convinced works for me placebicly. (placebo-ic? placebo-like? Imaginatively?) 

By the way, I would never actually sneak vegetables into brownies because the only one in the house who doesn't like vegetables would be the one doing the sneaking. My kids beg me to add broccoli to the menu. It's weird, I know. Also, they order asparagus at restaurants. Maybe all that healthy eating has made them immune to sleep. Or, more likely, they sneaked some of Peter's non-melatonin-ed Diet Coke.

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Peter is snoring next to me on the couch while he watches the football game he recorded during his 12 hour shift. If I wake him up, he'll claim he wasn't asleep and not ready for bed yet. Also, I think I heard one of my sleeping children walking around upstairs.

So I am going to convince myself the footsteps are ghosts and slyly steal the remote out of Peter's hand to watch something more interesting. Then attempt to trick Peter into bed. 

(And yes, I know the play on words I could make about the tricks needed to get him to come to bed, but I'm above pointing them out. Oh crap, I guess I'm not.)

Good night.

  

My life is a little busy

School can't be in session for over a month. I refuse to believe it as it would mean accepting "once things get settled" must already have happened. This level of busy can't actually be my baseline!

I blame encouraging the kids to get involved at school.

        And having five kids in school.

        And needing to entertain the lonely one left at home.

        And needing the whole month to get my house to approximate some level of post-summer clean.

        Although, it would've been cleaned much sooner if the kids didn't come home from school everyday.

Speaking of which, does anyone else suffer from Mopped Floor Syndrome, whose primary symptom is having something red, sticky, or voluminous spill immediately after mopping?

I'm not bitter about the can of soda spilled on my just-mopped floor after dripping off my just-polished granite. Not bitter at all.

But the 20 socks I picked up off the floor this afternoon (and or threatened the kids to pick up)? Totally bitter. I swear some of the kids double up. Which is weird, as every time I check they've forgotten to wear socks at all.

I cleaned over 8 hours today. Tomorrow I will run approximately 5000 errands.

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When Peter surprised me with an overnight bed and breakfast trip for my birthday last month, my brother and his family came and watched the kids. The list of what they needed to do was two pages long. After we came home, we asked them if they took advantage of our bathtub (of which, I just realized, I've never posted pictures). "No," my sister-in-law replied, "by the time I got the kids all in bed, all I could think was that I had to get up in the morning and do it again. So I crawled to bed."

I took it as a lovely compliment (or maybe just grateful acknowledgement of how exhausting my life can be sometimes).

Which reminds me, I really need to get to bed. Tomorrow will come way to early.