Jack has been in school for a month now. We've got the routine down, the bus is finally on time, and Jack is still more or less excited for school each day.
This week was filled with one new thing after the other. All good things, but it made for one very, tired, exhausted boy.
On Tuesday, Jack bought lunch. Not for the first time, but the first time when it wasn't a pre-planned event. We were late, so I took a chance and sent Jack to school with lunch money. He had chocolate pudding and thought it was the best thing ever.
On Wednesday, Jack had a field trip. He went to a pumpkin patch, in the rain of course. He had new-to-him rain shoes, not boots because boots are yucky. His group was called the "Jack-O-Lanterns". He went on a hay ride to a super secret pumpkin patch. And he was back at school in time for third recess.
On Thursday, Jack had a playdate. His first with a friend from school that I did not know. He went home from school with this boy, and I didn't pick him up until 5:30. He loved it, I promised we would have his friend over, and then he had a spectacular meltdown at dinner time.
On Friday, Jack participated in his school's Walkathon. He walked 13 laps, again, in the rain! Upon coming home, he told me how many laps he walked and then asked, "Mom, are you proud of me?"
Yes, Jack, I am proud of you. More then you will ever know.
Friday, October 7, 2011
Thursday, October 6, 2011
On Wanting Another Baby
My desire for another baby comes and goes. I know we are not having any more kids, that shipped has sailed. But there are times when I still want another baby.
Recently, Jack has started asking for a baby brother. Why can't we have another baby? We should have 10 babies, and so one. The other night he asked for an itty-bitty baby.
"Jack, we are not having more babies."
"No, not you, me. I want an itty-bitty baby"
"You want a baby of your own? But they are a lot of work."
"That's okay Mom, I can take care of it. I will make it a milk bottle"
"But babies cry a lot, and they need to be changed, and they don't sleep at night"
"I can take acre of it with your help."
"But, Jack, I've already taken care of three babies, I think I am done."
"But Mom, this baby will never get big. It will stay itty-bitty forever."
Oh, that does sound kind of nice. I do love the itty-bitty baby when it is all squished up like a peanut.
*sigh*
Now, I do want another baby.
Recently, Jack has started asking for a baby brother. Why can't we have another baby? We should have 10 babies, and so one. The other night he asked for an itty-bitty baby.
"Jack, we are not having more babies."
"No, not you, me. I want an itty-bitty baby"
"You want a baby of your own? But they are a lot of work."
"That's okay Mom, I can take care of it. I will make it a milk bottle"
"But babies cry a lot, and they need to be changed, and they don't sleep at night"
"I can take acre of it with your help."
"But, Jack, I've already taken care of three babies, I think I am done."
"But Mom, this baby will never get big. It will stay itty-bitty forever."
Oh, that does sound kind of nice. I do love the itty-bitty baby when it is all squished up like a peanut.
*sigh*
Now, I do want another baby.
Wednesday, October 5, 2011
My Bad
It always happens. Once I poke fun at Brandon, or even say - complain, I do something slightly worse.
Tonight I promised the boys popcorn for our bedtime snack. It had been a good day, but an exhausting day, and popcorn in our PJs sounded like the perfect ending.
Brandon took the boys upstairs to change into pajamas and I poured oil into the pan, dropped in my 3 kernels and waited. Then I realized it takes a while for the oil to heat and I should go sit down. This might have also been due to the awesome glass of wine I had at dinner. Once I sat down I realized I should check my email, one thing lead to another, and soon I was sucked into the blog world.
When I figured it was probably time to add the rest of the kernels, I jumped up and ran into the kitchen. Uh-oh, smoke was billowing out of the pan. I quickly lifted the lid to see if the oil was salvageable and (I kid you not) it burst into flames.
"Brandon" I yelled "BRANDON!!"
"What?"
"I started a fire!" I replied
"WHAT!!???"
I stood there in the kitchen with the flames growing higher, holding the pan, trying to recall what I knew about oil fires. I was pretty sure water would not help.
"Put the lid on!" Brandon yelled as he threw the baby at me. Aahh, good idea. I quickly grabbed Finn while Brandon threw the lid on and took the pan outside.
"Mom, fire?" Finn asks me.
Um, yeah. Micah walks in and is completely amazed by the thick fog of smoke. He begins jumping up and down trying to catch the smoke and yelling, "fire, fire!"
Once the excitement died down and the kids were eating microwave popcorn while watching a show the only evidence left was the lingering smell.
Yep, burnt popcorn.
My bad.
Tuesday, October 4, 2011
A Common Occurrence
This evening I come home from some much needed girl time to find that my husband has been busy in my absence.
All I have to do is open the car door and I know what he has been up to. The smell of burnt popcorn hits me as soon as I leave the car. Walking up to the house, I am surprised by how much the smell carries to the outside. I had always assumed it was just the 5 of us inside who were subjected to the lingering smell, but I guess our neighbors are also so blessed.
What has my husband been doing? Roasting coffee, of course. We are major coffee fiends. So much that we have a budget just for coffee. Sad, you may say, but it somewhat cuts back on our latte purchases. 4 years ago we bought a very nice espresso machine which also helps. Especially on the weekends when all we want is a triple tall latte in the morning, one in the afternoon, and a shot of espresso at night. We may have a slight addiction.
While having our own espresso machine has helped, beans are still really expensive, and we go through a lot of beans. So, a few months ago, my husband decided he would start roasting his own. And so it began. He now has it down to a science and with some suggestions on fan placement from my mom, no longer sets off the fire alarm. But it still smells. Really bad.
The coffee is good, I do sometimes miss a good Stumptown roast, but it is good. And it is saving us money. All that is good, but at 10:30 at night, this is not the sight I want to see:
The aftermath of the roast. Chaff, as my husband says, because obviously I am fluent in all technical coffee terms. For the lay person that is the outer skin of the bean.
The 'tools of the trade' so to speak. My one and only cookie sheet, my pancake pan, and a heat gun.
As much as I roll my eyes at this, I will be happy in the morning when my husband hands me a steaming hot latte to take with me as I begin my day.
All I have to do is open the car door and I know what he has been up to. The smell of burnt popcorn hits me as soon as I leave the car. Walking up to the house, I am surprised by how much the smell carries to the outside. I had always assumed it was just the 5 of us inside who were subjected to the lingering smell, but I guess our neighbors are also so blessed.
What has my husband been doing? Roasting coffee, of course. We are major coffee fiends. So much that we have a budget just for coffee. Sad, you may say, but it somewhat cuts back on our latte purchases. 4 years ago we bought a very nice espresso machine which also helps. Especially on the weekends when all we want is a triple tall latte in the morning, one in the afternoon, and a shot of espresso at night. We may have a slight addiction.
While having our own espresso machine has helped, beans are still really expensive, and we go through a lot of beans. So, a few months ago, my husband decided he would start roasting his own. And so it began. He now has it down to a science and with some suggestions on fan placement from my mom, no longer sets off the fire alarm. But it still smells. Really bad.
The coffee is good, I do sometimes miss a good Stumptown roast, but it is good. And it is saving us money. All that is good, but at 10:30 at night, this is not the sight I want to see:
As much as I roll my eyes at this, I will be happy in the morning when my husband hands me a steaming hot latte to take with me as I begin my day.
Monday, October 3, 2011
Missing Mandy
Today felt like fall. The day was colder, the sky was gray, the ground was still wet from the rain the night before. As I stood in my kitchen making our favorite fall dinner, I was remembering the last time I made this meal. And I remembered who we shared the meal with. And I missed her.
The last two years we have had a quote/unquote nanny who came over twice a week. Nanny isn't quite the right word. She really only babysat 3 hours a week, but she was more then just a babysitter. She quickly became part of our family.
In the fall of 2009, when Finn was 3 months old, Mandy came for the first time. Because of her schedule she could only come at 4:30 on Monday and Friday. That first day she came, I remember thinking how silly I felt as I laced up my tennis shoes to go take the dog for a walk, while Mandy babysat. On Friday, in my nervous don't-know-what-to-say mode, I invited her to dinner. It felt weird that we would sit down to eat just as she was leaving. So she stayed. And stayed. From that day on, twice a week, we would eat dinner with Mandy.
I soon found a good rotation of budget meals that I could stretch to feed 6-7 people. My husband eats alot. Pretty soon, Mandy took over finishing the meal, and then took over cooking the meal all together. Mondays and Fridays became my favorite days of the week.
But all things must come to an end, and for us it was with Mandy's graduation. It was sad and I hated saying goodbye but I was prepared. And it's been okay. This year is different, I do not see my oldest until 4:30, my middle son is in school until 1:00 and most days it is just the baby and me. I haven't felt the absence of Mandy, until tonight.
Tonight I pulled the chicken out of the oven, added the package of rice, cooked the frozen corn, and I remembered last fall. Sitting down with Mandy, the constant chatter that only a college-age girl can have, the boys fighting amongst themselves, my husband and I just nodding amidst the chaos.
Tonight I missed Mandy.
Sunday, October 2, 2011
Bringing Order to the Chaos
It has been awhile since I made a confession. So here goes.
I am not an organized person. By organized, I mean, having a place for everything and putting that thing in its place. I can be very organized on paper, I love a good “To Do” list, or a monthly calendar neatly filled in, but inside my house it is a different matter. I just can not seem to get a handle on all of the stuff that is brought into the house: mail, papers from school, art projects, bike gear, shoes, coats, backpacks, library books, the list could go on and on.
I have started many a different ‘organizational systems’ and each time I am convinced this will work. I’ve been to Ikea more times then I want to admit to buy just the right file box or bulletin board or basket, that will solve all my organizational issues. I’ve even been to Pottery Barn and bought the lovely white board and file wall hanging system. It is very pretty, but it still does not enable me to become organized. Instead I now have 4 or 5 places where I can put bills, papers to sign and send back, stash kids’ artwork until I decide what to do with it, and put important papers for my husband. This works until Brandon asks me where ‘such and such’ is. Um, did you look in the kitchen? Yes. How about the living room desk/hutch? Yes. The pile of papers on my desk? Yes. And on and on.
This year it seems to be especially out of hand as my oldest has started Kindergarten. Before I only had to look for the papers from preschool and I got pretty good at figuring out what I needed to save and how. Now there are the field trip forms, parent volunteer background checks, lunch menu, directions on how to access the lunch menu, picture forms, walk-a-thon pledge sheets, and then the random student work sample. And that is from a school that does most of its communication via email. My inbox is full of important notices and updates that I can’t seem to decide to keep or delete.
Before school started I decided to create a desk for myself. A place where I could centrally store and organize all this stuff, plus a place I could work at. I could envision myself sitting there in the evenings, filing, shredding, organizing, even writing. The soft glow of the lamp, the radio softly playing, maybe even a glass of wine sitting next to me. This was going to be it, the perfect place for me! I moved the furniture, purged kids’ toys, and created my dream spot. Then school started and I have not used it, not once. Except to stash all this stuff I don’t know what to do with. The piles of papers have multiplied, and instead of being a calming place to go, I avoid the area of the house like the plague. Unless I need something like a sticky note, a pen, a piece of tape, then I open drawers, throw papers on the ground and in general, make a huge mess until I locate that one item. Then I shove everything back inside, close the desk, and walk away.
Real Simple magazine, keeps sending me free preview offers. Maybe that is what I need, a magazine that will tell me how to be organized. Yes, that would be good, one more thing coming into my house that I will read, decide to save, and add it to the growing pile of papers on my desk. That and a trip to Ikea.
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I am not an organized person. By organized, I mean, having a place for everything and putting that thing in its place. I can be very organized on paper, I love a good “To Do” list, or a monthly calendar neatly filled in, but inside my house it is a different matter. I just can not seem to get a handle on all of the stuff that is brought into the house: mail, papers from school, art projects, bike gear, shoes, coats, backpacks, library books, the list could go on and on.
I have started many a different ‘organizational systems’ and each time I am convinced this will work. I’ve been to Ikea more times then I want to admit to buy just the right file box or bulletin board or basket, that will solve all my organizational issues. I’ve even been to Pottery Barn and bought the lovely white board and file wall hanging system. It is very pretty, but it still does not enable me to become organized. Instead I now have 4 or 5 places where I can put bills, papers to sign and send back, stash kids’ artwork until I decide what to do with it, and put important papers for my husband. This works until Brandon asks me where ‘such and such’ is. Um, did you look in the kitchen? Yes. How about the living room desk/hutch? Yes. The pile of papers on my desk? Yes. And on and on.
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This year it seems to be especially out of hand as my oldest has started Kindergarten. Before I only had to look for the papers from preschool and I got pretty good at figuring out what I needed to save and how. Now there are the field trip forms, parent volunteer background checks, lunch menu, directions on how to access the lunch menu, picture forms, walk-a-thon pledge sheets, and then the random student work sample. And that is from a school that does most of its communication via email. My inbox is full of important notices and updates that I can’t seem to decide to keep or delete.
Before school started I decided to create a desk for myself. A place where I could centrally store and organize all this stuff, plus a place I could work at. I could envision myself sitting there in the evenings, filing, shredding, organizing, even writing. The soft glow of the lamp, the radio softly playing, maybe even a glass of wine sitting next to me. This was going to be it, the perfect place for me! I moved the furniture, purged kids’ toys, and created my dream spot. Then school started and I have not used it, not once. Except to stash all this stuff I don’t know what to do with. The piles of papers have multiplied, and instead of being a calming place to go, I avoid the area of the house like the plague. Unless I need something like a sticky note, a pen, a piece of tape, then I open drawers, throw papers on the ground and in general, make a huge mess until I locate that one item. Then I shove everything back inside, close the desk, and walk away.
 |
| via |
Real Simple magazine, keeps sending me free preview offers. Maybe that is what I need, a magazine that will tell me how to be organized. Yes, that would be good, one more thing coming into my house that I will read, decide to save, and add it to the growing pile of papers on my desk. That and a trip to Ikea.
Saturday, October 1, 2011
Irony
Here is some irony for you, late on a Saturday night.
As much as I loved, loved, loved, my time alone a few weeks ago. I do NOT love my time alone when it means my husband is gone. This weekend was his turn for some much needed time away. Not alone, like me, but time away from me, from the boys, from coaching soccer, washing dishes (oh wait, that's me), work, any and all responsibilities. Time with his dad and brothers doing manly things like fishing and drinking beer.
I had my time, two full days, he has barely 24 hours. But as I ended my day apologizing to each of my boys, I felt like a failure. Brandon handled 2 nights without me, two bedtimes, and as far as I know with no crazy meltdowns. I had one night and barely made it.
Now, I did have the addition of a 50 lb quadriplegic dog that I had to help use the bathroom, but that is a post for another time.
Why is this ironic? Because I always blab on and on about how I want to be alone. How I need to be alone. I had last night to be alone, and even most of tonight, and I am literally counting down the minutes until he is home.
Then I am off to bed, where I am so happy to know that I will not be sleeping alone.
As much as I loved, loved, loved, my time alone a few weeks ago. I do NOT love my time alone when it means my husband is gone. This weekend was his turn for some much needed time away. Not alone, like me, but time away from me, from the boys, from coaching soccer, washing dishes (oh wait, that's me), work, any and all responsibilities. Time with his dad and brothers doing manly things like fishing and drinking beer.
I had my time, two full days, he has barely 24 hours. But as I ended my day apologizing to each of my boys, I felt like a failure. Brandon handled 2 nights without me, two bedtimes, and as far as I know with no crazy meltdowns. I had one night and barely made it.
Now, I did have the addition of a 50 lb quadriplegic dog that I had to help use the bathroom, but that is a post for another time.
Why is this ironic? Because I always blab on and on about how I want to be alone. How I need to be alone. I had last night to be alone, and even most of tonight, and I am literally counting down the minutes until he is home.
Then I am off to bed, where I am so happy to know that I will not be sleeping alone.
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