If it ain't one thing, it's another...

so, my weekend:

Sat: Drive DH to Savannah to get his stuff out of his semi. Drive to Richmond Hill to Urgent Care Clinic. Drive to Savannah to ER. Leave DH in ER & drive home to put kids in bed. Drive BACK to Savannah to take DH some things he'd need overnight after admitted into hospital (like his CPAP). 

Sun: Get home from hospital at 2 a.m. Crash HARD. Wake up, feed kids, get kids through a few basic necessary chores, feed them again, take them & food to neighbor's for the day so I can drive *back* up to Savannah to visit DH in the hospital where he's had a bad reaction to a new antibiotic they put him on. He sleeps the whole time I'm there; finally I head back home, stopping at the grocery store on the way. Home in time to get kids to bed.

Mon: take kids to visit DH in hospital; when he gets overwhelmed by them, I take them to the mall where they fuss & whine that I won't get them All The Things, they complain they're starving then eat 2 bites of dinner & say they're full. Home. Bed, dammit. Through all these days there's a weird knocking under the car.

Tues: take kids to optometrist b/c DinoBoy has been having trouble seeing the board in school. Insurance does not cover. Yay. Take kids home; make them eat lunch. Get ready to go to Sav to pick up DH who's getting discharged today. Going to leave kids home alone b/c should only be a couple of hours... Ha! 1st hear bloody murder being screamed from house before I even start the car. Go in; it's Girl-child being bitchy. Make everyone get in car. Drive to Savannah for 5th time in 4 days. Wait for 4+ hrs for DH to (finally) get discharged.  Start for home; realize kids have school tomorrow so we should eat on the way. Pick a restaurant 4 blocks from hospital. Takes us 20 min to drive the <2 miles. Eat (it was YUM. Five Guys). Get caught in *different* traffic on other end of town after a relatively smooth drive *through* town. Tire blows. DH & the boys change the tire (Girl-child would have helped but didn't want to get dirty). Drop DH at Wal-mart to put in his Rx's; take kids home; rush boys through showers & brushing teeth & into bed. Drive back to Wal-mart to take DH his wallet & pick up a new window fan b/c the one in our room isn't working.

DH is finally home. He's still on the antibiotic that gave him a bad reaction, but he's OK as long as he takes Benadryl about half an hour before the antibiotic. He's also on Oxycodone for pain, which means he can't drive which means he's going to miss a week's work (wonderful...) on top of which we now have to replace a tire and there's still that weird banging noise...

If it's not one thing, it's another...

But there was this cute little froggie on the door at one point, so that's a happy...

ADD, Calvin (and Hobbes), Math, Nincompoopery, and Hockey

This is the kind of thing that happens to me when folding laundry with my kids...

VelcroBoy: "I hate folding my clean laundry."

Me: "Me, too. That's why I taught you how to do your own, so I don't have to do it for you."

VB: *sighs* "Mommy?"

Me: "Yep?"

VB: "How do you spell 'nincompoop'?"

Me: "N-I-N-C-O-M-P-O-O-P"

VB: "Ok, I was just checking. Mommy, what's a nincompoop? Is it like Calvin or like Hobbes?"

Me: "Well, it's sort of being ridiculous*, or maybe unreliable."

VB: "So, like Calvin, then. He's always messing up."

Me: "Well, I usually think of it as more unreliable and not able to do stuff. Calvin isn't unable to do stuff, he just gets bored and distracted."

VB: "So, it's kind of like he has ADD, too?!" He sounded so excited, like here was his role model, like it's OK to be distracted, because, HEY! It happens to Calvin, too, and everybody loves Calvin, so he's going to be like Calvin and that's *awesome*!

*note: I just looked up the dictionary definition of nincompoop; it is a "silly, ridiculous, or foolish person."

So we talk a little about his ADD, and how he gets distracted in school, but it doesn't mean that he's stupid or bad or anything like that. I tell him that ALL little kids his age tend to get distracted; ADD just means that it's that much harder for him to get back on track and stay there than it is for some other kids, especially when it's something that he's not interested in, like math, or that's boring, like writing stuff over and over again. Then there's a little talk about whether or not we can someday move to someplace like where Calvin and Hobbes live, with lots of snow and hills and trees, and I have to explain that a) I will never live that far north because I'm anti-snow, and b) about the real estate market and that we can't afford the loss we'd take on the house if we tried to sell it right now. Which prompted this:

VB: "I want a job that makes large money!"

Me: "Ok, so what did you have in mind?"

VB: "I could play hockey! Do hockey players make a lot of money?"

Me: "Well, yeah, kind of, but only if they're really good."

VB: "Then, I want to be as good as Sidney Crosby."

So we have a little talk about how Sidney Crosby has been skating and playing hockey practically as long as he's been able to walk, and VelcroBoy hasn't had that same advantage so he's not likely to be good on quite that same level. Which leads to a cry of "But I don't like MATH!" from VelcroBoy.

Me: "Well, you know, there's other jobs, too. Like, you like to do science stuff; you might want to be a scientist when you're older. And you'll have to know a LOT of math for that. And really, you need math to play hockey, too. You need to use a little math to figure out where the puck is going when you shoot it, and whose path it's going to intersect. And you'll want to be able to make sure that you're getting paid correctly, or that whoever you have taking care of your paycheck is doing their job correctly so you don't get cheated."

VB: "I guess I'll HAVE to learn that kind of math, then." *rolls eyes, sighs* *leaves to take laundry to his room*

Me: "Yup, and to do that, you need to learn what they're teaching you in school right now, too!"

All is quiet for a few moments, then...

VB: "Mommy, what's a paycheck?"

Funny, where their little minds drift off to.

Happy New Year's Eve!

I feel like the blogs I read are full of looking back at the past year, and looking forward to the next, and part of me wants to do that, but part of me... well, let's just say that there was a lot of crap that went down over the past year that doesn't bear looking back on -- partly because I didn't really share a lot of it with many people, and so it would require too much backstory, and I refuse to infodump on my blog, but mostly because I'm afraid if I bring it all back up again, it'll just upset me and mess up the things that are going right right now.

Which is a most awkward sentence, I'm aware.

I have a couple of things I want to write about, like VelcroBoy's social studies project (we made a wattle-and-daub roundhouse with a thatched roof and I have a TON of pictures) and Christmas presents, and things like that. And I don't really *do* New Year's resolutions -- I have a tendency to kind of overdo and then completely fail before the end of January. So let's just say we're counting a promise to the DH as one (we've got a 3-times-a-week lunch date at the gym for the ellipticals, God help me...) and I really want to make more of an effort to have people over for dinner every once in a while. We had our neighbor and her 18-month old son over the Friday before Christmas for pizza night. I gave kidlet a box of jingle bells to play with and he spent the better part of the evening hanging them off the ears of this cat statue I have, while singing "Jingie bews, jingie bews!" to himself. We cracked up, and I have pictures of the statue on my phone. And later this week, we're having a guy from DH's old unit & his wife & 2YO son over. They're getting the boys' Thomas the Tank Engine stuff that I finally talked DinoBoy & VelcroBoy into getting rid of. I may keep a piece or two around just for old-time's sake, and I like to have a few things around for when we have guests with kids littler than my own, but we don't have space for a LOT of stuff like that, so the trains get to find a new home.

Also, I have some bloggy-ness percolating in my brain on two topics -- both of them are sort-of book reviews, but one is also, and more largely, on the general topic of teacher/student relationships, and all the ways they can go wrong. I'm pretty passionate about this one, since my mom is a professor, and there are plenty of pitfalls in that type of relationship, but there are (surprisingly enough, or not-so-surprisingly, depending on how much attention you pay to little details) other issues that get completely overlooked. Like, for instance, relative ages of the two parties involved. The other one is just mostly about little details that really make a story *work* or not -- even when they're mostly peripheral details (for example, describing a house as "modest" and "average" but then filling the living room with enough furniture for three or four normal living rooms -- or a good-sized furniture showroom -- can really mess with an "average" reader's head. Just sayin'.)

Also, I have NO IDEA when my Christmas stuff is going to get packed away. I need to get one more storage container this year, and before I do anything else I want to work on the boys' bedroom (which will probably require *several* new storage containers) and honestly, I would *LOVE* to keep my houses out year-round. I just don't think that the hearth is the best place for that. Maybe I'll keep the Victorian house out; it's not all snowy or Dickensian, and kind of looks like it was made for year-round admiration. I'll have to do some furniture juggling and/or get a console table for my record player. Oh, and after 2 years, I'm finally going to break down and see about getting my dishwasher either fixed or replaced. Either one works for me, I'm not really all in to "features" or whatever. I'm just a little overwhelmed by the volume of dishes that generally need washing, and I want to wash my pretties but can't because day-to-day dishes take up so much room in my sink and on my counter.

And I love my Mommy and my Daddy. They are the absolute BEST. *blows kisses in their direction*

True Confessions of a SAHM: I'm not an Idiot!

I had an amazingly nice phone conversation today, with the doctor I took VelcroBoy to for a diagnosis (aside: he has ADD -- no hyperactivity to contend with, just attention deficit. Which almost makes it sound like a bank account; as if it were possible to simply deposit more attention...) Anyway.

Usually, when I take one of the kids to the clinic for whatever... when I would take my hubby to his appointments after his surgery last fall... pretty much anytime, ever, I have to spend time with a professional person, whether it's as a customer/client/patient or simply as a person, it seems like the moment they find out I'm a SAHM, they assume my brain was disengaged at infancy and I'm less capable of understanding complex ideas like what they *do* all day than a five-year-old.

The worst offenders? Moms and men over 50.

I can understand the men. I mean, there are still societal conventions in place urging men to treat women like Delicate Flowers who need special, kid-glove, cotton-wrapped handling. And men of A Certain Age were pretty much drowned in that mentality from a young age, so they're at a disadvantage. Many of them still have difficulty coping with the idea that women are, in fact, capable of deep, rational thought. They don't exactly get a pass on this one, but I'm less likely to let my prickles out.

The women, on the other hand? No.

Just.

No.

Y'know what? Maybe I don't have a degree. Maybe I don't have a whole STRING of letters after my name, or a fancy engraved nameplate on the door of my office. Hell, my "office" is the most comfortable chair in my living room, plus a storage ottoman and a kitty condo (don't judge. It's a convenient height for my tea). The thing is, the lack of those superficial outward signs of privilege (yes, even if you were a scholarship student, you were privileged enough to receive that scholarship, weren't you?) don't mean a thing. I don't have a degree, officially, but that doesn't mean I don't possess the knowledge. I grew up in a lab while my mother was doing the research for her dissertation -- my mom the PhD. I pretty much didn't bother in most of my science classes throughout school because I already knew the material. Mom's a bit of a bookworm (the attic and the living room are crammed full, and that doesn't count the foot-high currently-reading stack by her bed, her home office, her work office, or the overflow in the basement) so even through two years of being a college student myself there were very few books I was reading for the first time -- or even had to actually purchase -- for any of my literature classes. I remember reading medical journals for no particular reason in my teens (ok, they helped me fall asleep. What? Is truth!)

So, yeah. I may not have quite as many years of official training for some career or another, but that does not actually mean I don't understand what's going on when you talk to me.

Ironically, many of these people would give me a pass if I were homeschooling my kids for religious reasons -- I know a few families who do this, and, frankly, I know the way they spell. Their kids are going to be in TROUBLE. Not to mention narrow-minded, but that's a whole 'nother argument. Oh, or if I were a very obviously hippie-dippie Earth Mother type, or otherwise "artistic." Or if I had a job, but lost it, and decided that, given the way the economy is, SAHM-ing was a more graceful acceptance of defeat in the job market, thus choosing to leave the Real Jobs So The Men Can Have Them, There's A Good Girl. (Which, just... GRRRRRR.)

Anyway, I was impressed, because the particular doctor I spoke to today chose not to speak down to me. She spoke to me as if she expected me to be perfectly capable of understanding her if she used multi-syllabic words. She expected me to be capable of asking questions if I didn't understand something she said. She was, quite frankly, amazing! And you don't find amazing like that all that often in the military health-care system.

Food for Thought

I know there are a lot of jokes about Chinese food, but the truth is, I kind of love the fortune cookie part of going out for Chinese. The Horde and I went out to the local buffet at the request of DinoBoy (his party was today, although his actual birthday is Monday). The Girl-child and I got some pretty basic pabulum, nothing special, but the boys both got "Food for thought" fortunes. I love those -- some random bit of truth that forces you to think about yourself and the people around you. You especially get that effect when there's a smallish child self-aware enough to ask, "What does that even MEAN?" and you have to try to explain this concept of philosophy or ethics or culture or whatever to them.

DinoBoy's fortune read "We judge others by actions; we judge ourselves by intentions." I really really love this one. It's a concept I sometimes struggle to get across to others -- my kids or my DH -- that when someone is hurting because of your words, or because your words don't match your actions, or simply don't SEEM to to this person outside of you, it really doesn't matter what you THINK or FEEL or think you're putting out there. Intentions are well and good, but we are the only ones who can really know our own intentions. I might *think* I understand my husband's, but I can't really know for sure; all I can do is judge to the best of my ability.

That's a hard concept to teach a kid: the idea that sometimes, you can say or do something intending it as a kindness, but that it doesn't always appear that way to the person you're trying to help. What to you may seem a simple offer of help or support may rub the wrong way or play on fears you don't know about and come across to the other person as a judgment on them, or an attempt on your part to show them up and make them feel inferior.

It's easy to assume that because WE know what we intend, that others will, as well. It's much harder to remember that they're not seeing those intentions; and that everyone filters other people's words and actions through a lens built on their own experiences and insecurities.

VelcroBoy's fortune was "The best way to succeed in life is to act on the advice you give to others." I like that. It's fairly simple and straightforward. If you tell someone X is the way to get to what you want, and you're not doing X, then why should they listen to you? And if X is the path then why are you not on it yourself? Although I think it's more simple than that, even. It's the antithesis of the old saw, "Do as I say, not as I do." That one's a particular trap for parents, I've found; one I'm trying not to fall into. There's a part of me that wants to avoid chores on weekends, while telling the kids to do theirs, and I recognize that that's a form of hypocrisy. Of course, at the same time, if I'm doing my chores, I can't make sure they do theirs. And goodness knows when they're at school I have a hard time following my stated household rule of "Do the things that NEED to be done before doing the things we WANT to do." Especially when there are new books to read.

And on that note...I have books to read! Catch you later!

Random Sadness and Stress.

OK, so, this has been a really stressful month for me. There's been a lot of stuff going on on a personal front, which I won't get into here because the part that's mine to work through I'm not willing to share with anybody besides the few who already heard it all (and I'm probably going to be working through it for a LONG time; there is a lot of anger and sadness and all kinds of other negative emotions happening in my body right now). And the parts that aren't mine? Well, it's not really my place to share them; and anyway sharing wouldn't HELP the situation, and might, in fact, end up making things worse, sooo... radio silence it is.

In the let's see how much we can pile on to make life otherwise difficult category... well, let's see. Both vehicles have been needing work. The Jeep has, well, mushy brakes, but DH said they just need to be bled a little and they'll be fine. Well, OK, but that's not really something I can do for myself, so I'm gonna have to take it in somewhere. & since the brakes make me uncomfortable I won't drive the kids, so I haven't even so much as STARTED the Jeep in a couple of months, sooo...the battery's dead. & when I tried to jump it...well, let's just say it was a massive, monumental failure. Theoretically we have a charger somewhere; I may try that later, but if it doesn't work...well, I've never actually had to remove/replace a car battery before. So that will be interesting.

Since it's a (theoretically) quick & easy fix -- the brakes, anyway -- I want to get that done before I take the minivan in, because I have a feeling (a sinking feeling deep in my gut) that it's not going to be as easy a fix. It has been making this weird clunking, almost grinding noise. Not all the time, just on left turns. And not ALL left turns, just those where I his the gas pedal partway through the turns. So. In case it turns out to be long & involved, I want the Jeep working so I can still do grocery shopping & run errands & pick up kids & all that fun stuff.

Speaking of errands...

One errand I think I'm going to have to run is to take my cat to the vet. He's about 15 years old, and he's been kind of showing his age lately, getting slower and skinnier. But over the last couple of days he has gone seriously downhill. He's gaunt, he doesn't seem to eat or drink, he has bladder control issues, and he can't quite seem to make it if he tries to jump up on anything higher than my knee. His coat looks ungroomed, and he's...It looks like he's bleeding from random places. Like his gums; and his sleep-gunk is all bloody-looking...I think my poor old man is going into renal failure. And I cannot get him a vet appointment, and even if I can, if I'm right, there's nothing that can really be done, so I'm going to be losing my very dearly beloved friend. And it's killing me, because I have no one to hold me and hug me, except the kids. And when I talked to them about it, they just wanted to know how soon we can get a new kitten because "We should have an even number of pets, Mom. I prefer it that way."

So. Yeah. I'm here. I'm coping, barely.

I will admit to wanting to drop the kids on my mom and run away. If she didn't live so far away, I probably would.

Dear Blog-readers,

As you are no doubt aware (since you're also friends/followers via social media like FB/Twitter), my parents have been camping this week at Jekyll Island, and the kids & I have visited them there twice. Also we'll be spending more time with them over the summer, but for right now, I'd like to share a few pictures from yesterday -- we visited in the midst of the outskirts of Tropical Storm Debby, so the weather was cruddy, but there were some lovely photo ops. We visited the Sea Turtle Center and wandered around a museum and part of the beach on the eastern side of the island. So, pictures.

This is Kathy. She's an 18-month-old loggerhead who they hope to be able to release soon (they need a boat because all the other loggerheads of the same year are so far out to sea. Failing that, she will stay till she's the size of a dinner plate, at which time they'll be able to take her to the beach and release her because her peers will be back.)

This one is being rehabbed; unfortunately, I forgot to grab a pic of his/her name.

This is a Diamondback Terrapin hatchling, one of two they had. Its shell was about the size of a toddler's palm.

This is Caton. He kept swimming up and sticking his head here, posing for pictures. Hope he either gets better enough to go back to the ocean, or gets better enough to find a home with a zoo/aquarium where he can be an "ambassador."

This HUGE critter is an Archelon, which is an extinct genus of sea turtle dating back to the Cretaceous period. The main body part of this particular fellow was about the size of a Volkswagon Beetle.

Just thought this was lovely...a long branch of a huge old live oak blanketed in ferns.

Turtle mosaic stepping stones outside the Sea Turtle Center.

Our first view of the beach.

DinoBoy was so excited about his find: "Mommy, look! It's CORAL!"

Ocean debris is gorgeous, in an austere way.

Seagrass blowing on the tops of the dunes.

Loggerhead nesting site; may it stay safe and hatch many tiny turtles!

This picture was taken through the front windshield as the kids and I drove back across the causeway to the mainland.

Anyway, a good time was had by all, and we got soaked and saw some of the glory and majesty and fury of nature. If you ever find yourself nearby, I *highly* recommend Jekyll Island as a "must visit" place!

True Confessions of a SAHM: Attachment Parenting

Attachment parenting, for those who've been living under a rock for the last couple of decades or so and don't know, is a "new" parenting method hearkening back to days well past days of yore. I first learned about it when my mom bought me my first baby book when my daughter was born.

The Baby Book by Dr. William Sears, et al

In this book, Dr. Sears and his wife (and in newer additions at least one of his sons and possibly a colleague or two) espouse "attachment parenting," that is, forming a deep and meaningful bond between parents and children. At its base, this is something I think most of us, as parents, aspire to; the book is full of how-to's and personal anecdotes as well as the usual baby book stuff relating to development and health that parents (especially first-timers) need to know. (I'm really wishing I still had my copy of the book, but it really only covers major info from birth to about 2 years old, and I recently gave it to a friend who had her first baby.) A lot of the concepts of attachment parenting are lifted straight out of so-called "First-World" societies.

One of the big things in this book, which really still gets the media covering parenting "trends" is the concept of co-sleeping -- where the entire family shares a bed. Dissonant voices blame co-sleeping for spoiled kids, squashed kids, say it's connected with SIDS, that it conflicts with marital relationships and makes kids codependent with their parents. And, guess what? Some, if not all, of this stuff *can be true* -- but not for all people. If you're drunk and you have a tiny baby sleeping next to you, you may roll over and crush the baby. Kids may go through a period of time where they're super-extra-clingy. It can be hard to have sex with a kid in the bed -- at least, if you really want bed-sex. And there's no clear scientific data on what, exactly causes SIDS, so it's kind of hard to refute that.

On the other hand, spoiled kids are going to be spoiled whether they sleep with Mom and Dad or not. That's about how their parents are parenting them in other areas -- spoiled kids need only point at something (or pitch a hissy fit) to get it; look crossways at something and Mom & Dad are raising cain to get it out of society -- or at least, away from their Precious Darling. There are ways to make co-sleeping safe for baby -- or toddler, preschooler -- right up until everybody's ready for them to sleep on their own. And as for the clingy, co-dependent thing? I parented all three of my kids the same way. One is more clingy than the other two (why do you think I call him VelcroBoy, after all?) So a lot of that is pure personality. And still, he's happy to stay with anyone I tell him he can trust; he's happy to range free within a comfortable distance, knowing I'm always there in the background to give hugs and ooh and aaah over his discoveries.

For the record, if you want more information on Attachment Parenting and co-sleeping, check out Ask Dr. Spears or pretty much anything Mayim Bialik writes on the subject. She's a little more devoted to the approach than I am. I took what worked for me; just more of it worked for her.

Now, on to the fun stuff; a.k.a. How Attachment Parenting Works for Me.

Breastfeeding and Co-Sleeping: This are two of the most basic components of Attachment Parenting. Most pre-industrial societies really have no easy way of feeding infants if breastfeeding is not an option, and, frankly, it was not really an issue for me. No body hangups to get in the way and I was able to produce in plentiful amounts once my milk came in (although I never was able to pump successfully; that was stressful or perhaps there were some mental hangups that were making it difficult. Something.) Co-sleeping was a major boon for this; I slept in the middle of the bed between baby and husband (being the lighter sleeper of the two of us) and we got a toddler bed rail to go on the outside edge beside the baby so no danger of her falling out. There are actually cribs that can be set up as a sort of "side-car" and attached to Mom and Dad's bed, but this wasn't really an option for us. One of the reasons I love co-sleeping and breastfeeding so much is that, while I'm a light sleeper, I have a hard time reaching full consciousness. It was really easy to, 3/4 asleep, just pat around to find Baby and latch on. I never had to fully wake up so didn't have *quite* as many problems with interrupted sleep as I would have had I had to wake all the way up, get out of bed, feed Baby, put Baby back to sleep, and then try to find my own way back to sleep. We tried it that way; usually I would only finally manage to drift off just to be reawakened within a few minutes for Baby's next feeding.

Babywearing: I loved my sling. Just cannot tell you how much. And why did I love my sling so much? I'm not totally sure, honestly. My kids were usually happy to ride in it, especially if they could see out, right up until they went mobile, when they only wanted it for naps. I could leave them in it to nap or put them in the car seat, which made getting them resettled when they woke up easy (and eliminated most of that awkward infant-car-seat in-and-out-and-carry mess). I could still do most of my housework with Baby along for the ride. And going for a walk, the added weight made it more effective exercise. Plus, the Girl-Child went through a stage where Only Daddy Will Do. She was a tiny thing, and the ONLY way to get her to sleep was for Daddy to cuddle her up in the sling and take her for a nice long walk. She was cozy in her little pouch, gnawing on Daddy's knuckle and listening to his heart beat. Made for some loooong evenings when he had to work late, though.

There's lots more about attachment parenting on the web -- stuff about learning your baby's cues and cries -- but I'll be honest, I never really got the hang of that, not completely. And sometimes you can't answer a baby's need right away. Mom needs to use the bathroom or take a shower or fix herself food or a drink sometimes (or Dad does; I know -- or know of -- a few dads who were the stay-at-home parent; kudos to them. Parenting is hard as is; I can only imagine there would be moments it's a little more difficult when you're bucking a trend and being all nontraditional and stuff.)

And this, in its own possibly choppy way, brings me to what I really wanted to say. Puppies. Having a puppy is a lot like attachment parenting, only, well, not quite as much fun. I mean, in some ways it's great -- you can shut the puppy in the bathroom (easy clean, Big Dog Butters can't knock the door down like he does with baby gates) and go out to the store without having to wonder what's gonna be trashed when you get home, which you can't really do with a baby. But those every-three-hour wakeups? Not so much fun when it's a pup yapping at you to come play because he just woke up and pooped on your carpet. Because, of course, he doesn't let you know he needs to go first. He just does it. And, because he's a puppy and you haven't breastfed in 6 years, you can't just stuff a nipple in his mouth and he'll go back to sleep. You can't (well, unless your name is Paris Hilton, you can't) just stuff him in a carrier and take him everywhere (#1 Eeeew, he's gonna poop & pee all over it. And #2, most business don't like yappy little dogs inside them.) You can, I suppose, sleep with them -- I know people do sleep with animals on the bed -- but this particular little puppy likes to be as close to my face as possible, and I don't really want the mess on my bed. And you know it'll happen -- he won't be able to get off the bed, but he'll need to go, and he won't want to wake me up, so he'll puddle. Probably on my pillow. Ugh. He feels the need to be touching me all the time, unless he's playing, and even then he gallops over regularly to make sure I'm still paying attention.

This is where attachment parenting breaks down for me: I'm an introvert. I have a Personal Space bubble that I really need to remain intact, except for hugging. I'm a big hugger. But Attachment Parenting means that my personal space is always full of small children (or, right now, a small puppy). Sometimes, I feel like I'm suffocating, almost literally.

But mostly... yeah, it's been worth it.

True Confessions of a Stay-at-Home-Mom

This is something that, somehow, I have a feeling would earn me a lot of backlash if I shared it with certain of my fellow SAHPs. And some of them may find it by accident and hate me. But some may find it and love me for saying some things they feel...

I know a lot of SAHMs. Like, a LOT a lot. I'm, after all, a military spouse. Especially among the enlisted classes, it's a big thing -- sometimes almost a necessity. There aren't a huge lot of college degrees between us, and, while the pay's not great at this level, it's usually barely enough to scrape by, as long as you don't try to pay extras like childcare.

So, here's the thing. I don't actually enjoy a lot of the "Good Parent" type stuff. I'm not particularly religious, either. Both of these things are nearly anathema, at least in the community of SAHM/military spouses -- a lot of them are extremely (but not, thankfully, scary-) conservative. They all seem to feel like a "Good Parent" doesn't let their kids mix in with the rank and file of just-anybodies who go to public schools (and I'll admit there's a LOT wrong with the public school system; however, that's a rant for another time) but they can't afford a religious school if there WERE one locally that catered to their particular religious mores. Obvious solution? "Good Moms Homeschool Their Children" -- And, ok, I know all about the potential benefits of homeschooling, but. And this is a huge but. It is not for everyone. I, personally, would never make it -- my kids drive me batshit crazy when they're home for a long weekend; how would I survive all three of them 24/7?

Plus, it takes a lot of discipline from *everyone* involved -- I have to be motivated to make them work, they have to be motivated to actually do the work. I can barely motivate them to get their rooms cleaned up! I don't have the temperament to stand over them, and they don't have the temperaments to let me. Plus I'd have to deal with subjects that, frankly, I hate. And if I go out of my way to avoid them, why would I want to force my kids to deal? It's like my husband trying to make the youngest child eat something he doesn't like: I tell DH he has stuff he refuses to eat, but the rest of us like. Why should a child be forced to eat something HE dislikes, just because Daddy likes it? So I can't justify homeschooling on those grounds.

And, you know, now that my kids are in school, I could maybe look for a job. Maybe part-time childcare after school and on weekends/evenings while my husband is some 5,000+ miles away wouldn't be so expensive? Yeah, right! I still don't have the education to get anything that pays.

And anyway, I grew up in a two-income family. Honestly, my parents, for all that they both work, were never any more financially secure than my husband and I are now. And I saw the toll it took on my mom -- She loves her work (mostly); she thrives on the nuts and bolts of it -- she's a college professor; she loves teaching.  But the weekends? After a long week of everyone working or going to school or both, we would then have two days which would be filled with all the stuff that nobody could get to during the week. Bathrooms cleaned. Floors mopped. Mountains of laundry washed, dried, folded, put away. Grocery shopping, dusting, changing the kitty litter. Mowing, sweeping, raking, weeding, digging.

There was never really any time to just enjoy being together. And I don't want to do that to my kids -- I don't want us to have so many chores waiting on the weekend that we don't have time to be a family. I don't want to do that to *myself*! Sure, my kids have weekday chores, light stuff like dishes and feeding the animals, taking out the trash. And on the weekends, we throw in a few heavier things -- vacuuming their rooms, cleaning their bathroom, helping with the yard. But usually, that's less than half a day's worth of work; we can spend the rest of the time playing with the dogs, riding bikes, fishing, playing on the beach, dominoes on the dining room table and puzzles on the playroom floor.

And, honestly, I'm not as good at keeping my house clean during the week as I probably could be. There's usually a pile of laundry needing to be folded, more than one floor needing attention. The truth is, during the week with no one home, it's easy to get caught up in other stuff, stuff that's just MINE -- reading or needlepoint or just sitting on the sofa with the new puppy curled up next to me napping. But the point is that I have time to do those things or put them off.

I don't really LIKE doing Mom-stuff a lot of the time. I'm not into crafting with my kids. I'm not an athletic, outdoorsy person. I get touchy when they get too close, too talkative, too clingy.

But I love giving them free time to explore and learn and do on their own.

That, I hope, is the real gift -- their childhood, on a platter.

I don't know how to parent my daughter...

Which seems really odd to me. I really just don't know what to do about her. In some ways she's so very much like me it almost hurts and those are things I really really want to nurture (while realizing that they're not necessarily the best behaviors to nurture.) At the same time, she is in many ways so very foreign to me that I just don't know how to reconcile any of it.

In the former category is her love of books. Like me, she'd much rather than anything else stay in her room, preferably in her bed, especially if the option is work of any kind (including playing outside.) This is one of those things that I both love and hate, because...well, who doesn't want to raise a literate, thoughtful, well-read little person? But at the same time, I'm not sure how much she's getting out of her reading, or how thoughtful she actually is. And I *know* that a lot of the time, what she's choosing to read is what's popular with other -- older -- girls, like the Twilight books, which I abhor. And it's hard, at those times, to just sit back and say, "At least she's reading *something.*" I'm not sure how to initiate conversations about something I have such very strongly negative feelings toward, partly because I know I won't help anything by being vitriolic in a conversation with an eleven-year-old. The flip-side, of course, is that, as an adult, I have finally learned the value of exercise and hard work, whether it's chores, a job, or whatever. And I'll admit I'm not perfect (not even near it) on the subject of practicing what I preach, in terms of getting enough exercise. But I'm working on it. And while I'm working on me, I'm working on her, too.

The "girlie-girl" bits I don't know what to do about. I was only very very briefly really into makeup and hair and clothes, and it's only as an adult that I'm starting to be a bit more aware of things like that, but I don't really enjoy them, still. So I have a hard time connecting to her on that level, and again, I don't want my personal vitriol to spill over and affect her vision of herself and the things she loves. And she has some very wonderful qualities that I just can't join into, like loving to watch football and hockey with her Daddy.

But then there are other things -- the Big Taboos like sex and boyfriends and stuff. Things I want to be able to talk with her openly about, because I truly *believe* that it's important to have open, candid conversations about things like this if we hope to break the cultural taboos that say they're Naughty, Dirty, Unworthy things. But my mother wasn't comfortable about tackling these subjects, and that's made it hard for me. Not that I feel uncomfortable about them, exactly; I'm just not sure how to do it. How much information is too much? How much is not enough? How do we talk about it without me sounding like I'm either encouraging experimentation, or, conversely, perpetuating the taboos?

And then, when I'm done with her, how do I do it all over again with her brothers?

I think I need more books. (subject specific would be nice, but at this point, I'd be happy with Just Another Reason To Procrastinate... )

NOT a Sock Hop -- except in the broadest sense

I think the boys' school missed out on a great opportunity today. All the kids who had met their AR (that's Accelerated Reading -- they read books, take tests & earn points) goal for the last quarter got to attend a "50s Sock Hop" in the gym this afternoon. That's how it was billed on the little flyer that was sent home. Kids were encouraged to dress in 50s-style clothing and come ready to dance. Parents were encouraged to attend & the boys both asked me to go, so... Well, imagine my surprise to find that the music was going to be provided via XBox hooked up to someone's iPod, and rather than just letting the kids dance, they're supposed to be dancing along with the figures being projected on the wall. OK, I can see that, maybe. Except...well, NONE of the music was even remotely from the 50s. They skimmed over a couple of 80s songs (Take On Me, anyone?) but all the rest was extremely current. 


I know I can be a bit of a dinosaur about music, but...we're talking about a bunch of K-2nd graders, here. Some of the dance moves and lyrics were not really what I'd consider appropriate for that age group. 


I mean, they could even have found some updated covers of 50s songs, I'm sure.


The biggest thing for me, though? If it's supposed to be a 50s sock hop, why the HELL wouldn't you make it into an experience? Play up your theme! Play the music, for goodness sake! Maybe some of these kids will already be familiar with it (mine are...but like I said. I can be a bit of a dinosaur). And if they're not? Whether they like it or not, it's not exactly going to harm their delicate little psyches to be forced, for 45 minutes, to be exposed to a piece of their cultural past. 

Lost in My Own Head

It just so happens that I have a ton of things percolating around in my brain that need to come out, one way or another. The problem is, at the moment they're all fragmented and mixed up (my brain sometimes makes me think of a really rich soup -- incredible, yummy ingredients in tiny pieces. It's wonderful stuff, of course, but thought-soup is just a mess and not really something you can share with others.) Unfortunately, on the rare occasion when there is cohesiveness to a portion of it, it's always at a *most* inconvenient time: the hubby is busy playing World of Tanks and thus has control of the computer. I'm in the shower, or driving, or elbow-deep in soapy dishwater. I'm trying really *really* hard to get the kids all up and ready for school and down to the school bus without letting my "Not a morning person" show too much. Y'know. Life stuff.


Somehow, none of it ever seems to get really written (or typed) down, and once it's done its little fling with thoughtfulness and Making Sense, it takes a powder (or two...) and it's on to the next variation on Brain Soup. What this means is that I have bloggy things only when I can't blog, and when I can -- well, when I can, I get the Rambling Randoms, like this.


Some things that are happening in my life: 


1. I went for a walk with the dog and the Princess. It was a pretty good walk except that the dog pulling on his leash over *everything* (alternating between "Mommy, FRIEND!" and "Mommy, HIDE ME!") rubbed some rawness on my palm and made washing dishes unpleasant afterward. And when we were 2 houses from home, the dogs that live at *that* house got out of their yard & attacked us. This is the second time this has happened. Really, people, if you have one of those underground fence things, and your dogs get out, you really need to rethink what you're doing. 


2. We got official word (it's on Facebook & the media) that my husband will be deploying to Afghanistan within the next few months (just in time for my birthday; thanks So Much for that!)


3. This week is going to be all about steam-cleaning the carpet in the living room and rearranging furniture in there, and spraying the back yard for fleas and other creepycritters. 


4. DinoBoy got a Treasure Box from his grandparents for Christmas, filled with animal bones, a turtle shell, various minerals, and all he needs to be an Explorer -- flashlight, compass, notebook & pen. I am taking it in for his class to see tomorrow, and I shall eat lunch with him first. I am thinking for Halloween, I need to get him a "safari" type hat, and a khaki shirt, and he can be an archaeologist.


5. I really wish I was talented with the sewing and all, because I think it would be hysterical to dress one of my kids (or my husband) up as a Knight from Monty Python & the Holy Grail. With a little fluffy bunny attached to the throat. Alternatively, dress one up as a knight, one up as Tim the Enchanter, and dress someone up as a fluffy, white, gore-covered bunny. Sadly, I think only about 3 people might actually Get It.


6. In addition to going to Afghanistan soon, this week the DH is in the field. He's still on crutches, so I'm not entirely sure how this is supposed to work. Guess we'll find out, huh? I just hope he manages to not overdo things, and comes home to me in at least as good shape as he's been in lately. *sigh* 


7. I have been reading somewhat obsessively lately, but I've been rather a lurker than a joiner over on Goodreads, and haven't been reviewing. And I won't be here. I'll just say that what I've been reading is every Mercedes Lackey I can get my hands on that's set in the same world as Valdemar. I'm not really sure why; someone mentioned the Last Herald-Mage trilogy on a thread somewhere; I dug out my copies, and I was off.


8. I am really disappointed when the library only has books 1 and 3 of a trilogy.  It would be one thing if book 2 were simply lost or perpetually checked out, but instead...no. There are no signs it was ever even purchased. 


9. Regarding libraries: What is the purpose of an online catalog if it's impossible to access online? I mean, really. 

Halloween

First, a picture of the boys, rear view. DinoBoy on the left, VelcroBoy as Grey Moth on the right.

Next, DH's Jack-o-Lanterns

*RAWR*

"I'm a MOTH."

Porcelain doll

reflections...

Life has got me thinking lately about mortality (not my own) and how we deal with it, and the aftermath and how we deal with THAT, and the guilt that comes, not from the things we've done that turned out to be stupid, but more the things we haven't done, for whatever reason, that we wish we had.

And, yeah. Most convoluted sentence EVAR, I know. But I was thinking, specifically, about two deaths in my family (names withheld to protect the innocent.)

The first death was actually my grandmother, and it's been...well, it feels fairly recent, actually, but the truth is, it was nearly two years ago now. Because it happened in January while my DH was still deployed in Iraq, and he's been home for a year now. So. The thing about her is that now, I only have one grandparent left, and that absolutely kills me. I was lucky enough to have a very wonderful, loving family, all of it -- my parents loved their in-laws, their in-laws loved them... Heck, my two sets of grandparents even invited each other for extended family reunions and get-togethers and they had never met before my parents got together. THAT is how open and loving and wonderful they all were. My father's father died, and my mother's parents were RightThere helping and supporting and cooking and being wonderful. And the reverse -- someone in my mother's family died (not even a close relative) and my father's aunts and uncles descended en masse on my mother's family to help them mourn and say goodbye, some of them travelling from Delaware to Tennessee to be there for a funeral of someone they'd never met.

Sometimes, my little internet communities feel like this -- someone suffers a loss or disappointment and people they don't even know are coming out of the woodwork to offer sympathy or support because they have a mutual friend somewhere along the line.

And I always thought that my family was so awesome and strong and amazing to be like that, but I've kind of learned differently this year. 

See, on my father's side, his grandparents had 8 kids. Of those 8, 6 married, and three reproduced. One wanted to, but was, for whatever reason, unable, so they adopted a son. This son grew up feeling just as loved, just as much a part of the family as the biological cousins of his generation. The entire family was there giving their support when he married and had children of his own, and he was just the guy, you know? The one who just always showed up when he was needed. The one who would sit with you while you were in the hospital so whoever else had been there could go home and change, or go to the cafeteria and eat. The guy who pulled a paralysingly shy teenage girl out of herself at Christmas one year, talking about E.A. Poe, who she'd been studying in a HS lit class that year, and when he found out how much she'd loved reading his work, had snuck home to giftwrap his own Complete Works for her for a Christmas present.

I didn't even realize he was adopted until -- actually, it may have been that same year.

And then this year, he died. It was tragic. He was only a few years older than my own husband, he left behind a wife, a son in college, and a just-barely-teenage daughter. To say nothing of his devastated parents, his cousins... But sadly, his death has caused a rift in the family. His father was the only son of those amazing great-grandparents of mine. And when my great-grandmother died intestate, he bought the family home and property at auction, planning to leave it to his wonderful, loving, beloved son. Now that son is dead, he wants to leave it to his grandchildren. Sadly, some of his sisters have now decided to be ugly about that -- despite the fact that none of them are in any shape to buy the property, or will themselves be dead by the time it changes hands, or have no heirs of their own, they don't want it to go to anyone who doesn't share their blood. Apparently, nearly 50 years of love don't make a family, after all. I really want that property left to those kids because to me, the only difference between their blood and mine is that if someday one of my kids needs a transplant, they may not be able to provide what is needed (although I have no doubt that they would be the first in line volunteering for a test.) DNA doesn't even come into it. And I have NO IDEA how hurt they must be right now, still grieving their father and knowing that these people they've loved for years and thought of as family, extra grandmas, don't feel exactly the same way about them.

So, much as I love my older relatives, I am wary of them. I am mentally trying to write it off as some sort of weird manifestation of senility (they are all well into their 70s and 80s by now) and telling myself that if they were younger, in possession of their right minds, this would not be happening. And part of my is just so glad that I don't live nearby anymore, and don't have to see them often or hear what's going on. And I'm so, so sad for the world's loss. 

"No man is an island entire of itself; every man is a piece of the continent, a part of the main; if a clod be washed away by the sea, Europe is the less, as well as if a promontory were, as well as a manor of thy friends or of thine own were; any man's death diminishes me, because I am involved in mankind. And therefore never send to know for whom the bell tolls; it tolls for thee." --John Donne So anyway... the guilt part (this is what I was actually setting out to write, I just got distracted by back-story.) I am feeling very guilty because part of me feels that I haven't really mourned for my grandmother. It's been two years, and I've cried nary a tear for her. And yet... Every moment of every day, my heart aches for her, just as it does for my other grandmother, who died while I was pregnant with my oldest child, just as it does for other dearly loved members of my family who died even before I reached my teens.  And I've mourned her, I really have. The thing is...I mourned her death years before it happened. She started suffering small strokes when I was a freshman in college. Eventually they got big enough that she couldn't care for herself, and the family (my parents and my father's brother) made the heart-breaking decision to put her in a nursing home very close to the same time my daughter was born. My sons never knew her outside of the nursing home, and she spent nearly ten years there, dying by inches. It was more obvious to me, as by that time I had a home and a family of my own, and wasn't visiting weekly the way my parents and siblings were; I was lucky to see her twice a year. And so I've been mourning her death for the entire lives of both my boys. By the time her body stopped, I had cried my tears. My mom with her mother. My dad's mother with my older son, his first Christmas.

practicing my vocab words

I usually attempt to be well-spoken and thoughtful (ok, well, most of the time anyway) but today my brain is blown. Due, no doubt, to the effects of doing 5 (yup, count 'em, 5) loads of laundry today. All bedding ephemera: comforters, sheets, mattress pads, blankets and afghans and pillows and stuffed animals. Some of it is standard we-all-change-our-sheets-every-weekend stuff, but there's also a bunch of both-boys-apparently-had-accidents-overnight combined with a little of my-parents-came-to-visit-and-brought-hand-me-down-sheets. The only bedding-type thing that hasn't been washed but probably should be is the quilt from my bed. But by the time all the rest of it is done, I'm just not sure there's going to be room on the line for it (I already had to bring in one load to finish up in the dryer...)

And then I have a load and a half of pants & stuff, and almost a full load of t-shirts & underwear, and then there's the kitchen and table linens, and the bathroom linens, and the massive pile of rag and rugs and dog-bed and the like...And it's supposed to rain tomorrow and MAYBE the next day, so we're looking at up to 2 days of no laundry line...

Not to mention the fact that I paid bills today, and it's going to be kind of an extra half-week before payday (maybe not, but I need to plan for it, anyway) and all the dishes that always need doing and I've forgotten what I was going to cook for dinner and and and.... *Deep Breath*

I have some bananas I'd *really* like to make into banana bread. I have some pumpkin in the fridge I really need to use up and a recipe for Pumpkin Crescent rolls I'd love to try. And some biscotti recipes I've been wanting to make for a couple of weeks now... If I can manage ONE of those today, and slowly get to the rest over the course of the week, it will all be good.

And Friday's my 11th wedding anniversary.

Overwhelmed: I haz one.

*PANIC*

ohshitohshitohshit.

Backstory: Last weekend my grandpa was taken from nursing home to hospital with gallstones. Hospital determined he should have lost the gallbladder ages ago, so he had surgery to remove it (there was an infection which had thankfully not spread to bile duct/pancreas/liver/whatever other organs are in that general vicinity) -- this is not about him. He had surgery, is doing fine, back in nursing home. Since he *is* doing fine, my parents are coming to visit this weekend. By which I mean, they'll get here sometime tonight, and leave Sunday morning.

Over the summer, the Barbarian Horde and I spent a month with them, during which time I raided the attic for booksbooksbooks, went through papers (and found a bunch of stuff -- artwork, certificates, newpaper clippings & other random memorabilia), and dug through the storage closet for outgrown clothes of mine that will work for the Darling Daughter over the next year or two. I filled up two ginormous rubbermaid tubs (yes, the BIG ones. What are they, 50 gal? Maybe more? I don't know.) These tubs are the problem.

They are full of stuff. Srsly, when I say full, I mean I-was-only-JUST-barely-able-to-close-the-lid full. And there was...overflow. Like, two tomato boxes worth of overflow (tomato boxes hold fresh tomatoes from the canning factory -- they will sell them to home-canners, although I'm not sure I understand WHY. They hold about a bushel of tomatoes. Maybe half a bushel? I don't know; it's been a while since I helped w/ the tomatoes. One box holds about a dozen quart-size Mason jars.) And a lot of that stuff is books. Books are lovely, books are good, I firmly believe this:

My husband, sadly, disagrees. And to an extent I can see his point. I mean, the only way to find shelf space for any more books in my house would be to pack up or throw away his collection of penguins, some of my collection of cats, all the kids' DVDs, the adult TV show DVDs, and a lot of craft supplies.

So. Um. Yeah, I'm probably gonna be in trouble later. I shall be doing some reorganizing of the "Do I really REALLY need/want these books?" variety.

I may have to make a spreadsheet of the stuff I end up getting rid of, just so I can buy it again later in digital format (just so it takes up less space.)

Pray for me!

(And one day, I may blog the pumpkin bars. I have a couple or three pictures and everything! I just hate downloading pictures to the computer...)

I feel all need-to-blog-y, but I don't know about what, really. Maybe we'll try that whole stream-of-consciousness thing and see where it gets us. Right now, I'm sitting on the sofa on my DH's laptop. In the room with me are two cats: one white, sleeping on the sofa arm beside me, the other grey and sitting in the high-back car booster over by the front door. My cell just beeped, which probably means my DH just texted me from the neighbors' where he went to see what they got our Middle Child for his 8th birthday today. Better go check...

~~~~

Yup, it was him, but to tell me that their puppies are playing with his shoelaces. Those pups are SOOO cute, and I kind of want one, but just can't right now. They're part some sort of terrier (I think) and min-pin, so they're never going to be very big, and we have two large boxer-mixes right now. I just can't think it's a good idea to bring a third dog -- and a small one at that -- into that, especially as the larger of our two is not yet 18 mos old. Also, we just plain can't afford it. But we can't afford much of anything; I hate to admit it bu we're in dire financial straits.  We're hoping to sell the DH's gas-guzzler soon (ad on Craigslist) which would go a long way to making things a lot more comfortable around here, but until that happens, we're hanging on paycheck to paycheck. And just barely managing to keep no more than one month behind on bills and stay on top of the mortgage and all still EAT. And of course, only one vehicle means it's nearly impossible for me to get a job, because I'd be constrained to the maybe half-dozen or so businesses which are within walking distance, all of which would require me to find some sort of childcare for at least the boys -- and none of which would pay anything above the cost of  that childcare.

Life sucks sometimes.  Keep you fingers crossed that the truck sells.

I so need to go back to school eventually. I keep looking at Work-from-home job posting sites, hoping to find something that I can do, but sometimes it just seems hopeless. They want you to have a space with a door you can shut while your kids are home (which makes being home with the kids kind of pointless. They want you to have this degree or that experience, none of which I have. Or to buy special equipment, which I can't afford. There's always something, and for the others, they're scams. Or they might be genuine, but they totally come across as spammy when you click the links. And I'm not going to risk anything on "might be."

The sad thing is, about half the time, I know I have the skills, even if I don't have the piece of paper or the work history. I've spent the last 8 years or so not working at all, just being at home taking care of kids and house and pets. I can organize, I can make phone calls, I can be convincing. I can type, and more importantly, I can WRITE. Not fiction (or I'd be trying to get published instead of looking for a job), but I can write. I can even edit -- Maybe I'm not sure about fictional content editing, but nonfiction almost certainly, and especially looking for errors of spelling, grammar and punctuation. I'm not sure I could sell anything, but I've done customer service before and I was pretty damn good at it.

Here it is almost 5 pm an I've accomplished virtually nothing today. I've folded and put away a couple of loads of laundry, and washed a couple more (one's in the dryer, the other in the washer waiting its turn.) I really need to do dishes and clean the kitchen so that I can help the Darling Daughter with her first foray into birthday-cake-baking -- she wants to make her brother's birthday cake for tomorrow. It's a basic box cake, so not beyond her abilities, but she's never done a cake before, and this is a special silicone dinosaur-shaped pan, so it shall be interesting. I just hate doing dishes. It's not my least favorite thing ever, but it's starting to rank right up there. Less because I don't enjoy the ritual of it, the joy of taking something dirty and making it clean again, and more because I just do it all the time; hardly a day goes by when I'm not doing the freaking dishes. And my hands get all dried out and flaky and itchy and *horrible* and there's nothing that really helps.

*sigh*

Trying to get past this mood, and not sure how well it's working. Will move on from this to some other things; maybe turning on loud, dance-y music will help me get moving and get it all together.

Much love!

The Frustrations of Parenting, pt 1

My three kids, ages 11, 8, and 6, really keep me hopping. In general, this is probably a good thing, as I'm an introvert and would likely, left to my own devices, find myself living in a cave with no outside interaction (possibly not even the internet). However, there are a few -- ok, more than a few -- problems.

To begin with, I *am* an introvert. This means that long stretches of time spent in close contact with other people, all of whom are louder, more active and more aggressive than myself, are difficult at best. This is weekends. Long weekends are progressively harder and long breaks (especially summer vacations) can be downright excruciating, since I'm a stay-at-home Mom. I find myself staying up way too late trying to find some quiet time to recharge, and then having to get up early to make sure the kids don't harm themselves or each other, and by the time I catch up on all that lost sleep, it's time to do it all again with another long school break. We're trained as students and workers to celebrate Fridays and fear Mondays; for me it's the opposite. Perhaps if I were a different personality type I would be less stressed by all the family togetherness (and to be honest, there are plenty of times when I really do love the stuff we do all together) but I'm not, and I refuse to either fake it or apologize. I can't pretend with my family, I won't pretend to myself, and, frankly, if anyone's reading this, I don't care enough about *you,* Dear Reader, to pretend to you.


The Girl Child, 11, is particularly challenging for me. She's in that "tween" time; somewhere between child and young adult, and she's practicing her girly. I've had my moments of girliness, but never a truly concentrated thing. She's taking it to what seems, to me, to be extremes. I don't understand and I'm not entirely sure how to deal. Additionally, she seems to want to be an overachiever but doesn't quite have the innate abilities to do it. The self-confidence, yeah (or else that's a mask she's showing to us all), but not the easy recollection or quick wit (I'm sorry, I love her, but...some people just don't.) Sometimes I feel like part of that, at least, is my fault; I'm a quick reader myself, and she seems to want to be emulating that, but when I read quickly, I am also still able to retain the vast majority of what I read. She, on the other hand, can't. She "read" Christopher Paolini's <i>Eragon</i> last weekend (I use the word guardedly, as she kept the book in her room for roughly 24 hours, and then assured me she had completely read the whole thing). It took *me* several days to finish that book, and I was reading as an adult, without a full-time job (other than parenting, of course). I in no way believe that she finished and retained what she read. And, to be honest, what irks me most is not that she wants me to believe her, but that she won't just be honest about it. I don't care how fast she reads, as I've explained to her. It's more important that she understands and takes in what she's read.

In some ways, having kids has made me a better reader, though. You wouldn't know it to look, because I read a lot more than I remember to review, either here or on <a href="http://www.goodreads.com/user/show/2300063-tracy?ref=header">my Goodreads page</a>, but I've been expanding my YA reads from the classics that I've loved since I was a kid, and reading more recent stuff, because I really feel I need to know what's out there. I have three budding readers (I hope; the First Grader is a bit resistant, but it's coming a little harder to him than to the others) and I want to be sure that I can direct them toward books that are not only the *quality* I wish them to read, but that are also books that they'll enjoy. I want smart characters, male and female, who are able to be strong and make hard choices. I'm actually somewhat OK with a certain amount of moral ambiguity, but certain themes are right out. Definitely no rape, for instance, and bullying is only OK if the character who is bullying learns better and reforms. Or, you know, is at least punished harshly. Hatred is not OK. I would actually like to see more LGBTQ characters, even for my younger readers, more diverse racial backgrounds, more strong secondary characters...I haven't exactly been impressed with a lot of what passes for teen romance these days. Overall, I'm actually find that I'm more and more falling back on my childhood favorites: A Wrinkle in Time (Madeleine L'Engle's Time Quintet), Tales of a Fourth Grade Nothing, Emily's Runaway Imagination, and Five Children and It (Puffin Classics) (to name just a few). However, there have been a few standouts that I've loved over the last decade or so: the aforementioned <i>Eragon</i> (although I should note I've only read <i>Eragon</i> and <i>Eldest</i> to date), Artemis Fowl (new cover), and Inkheart (Movie Cover), just for starters.

I remember my mom reading out loud to us as kids. She read all the way through almost all of C.S. Lewis's <i>Narnia</i> books. I remember particulary hearing her read when I was about 8 -- my little sister was still a baby, and in one of the books (I think it was <i>A Horse and His Boy,</i> although I could be wrong) there's a part where one character, a king, is talking to his nephew (stepson? I really must do a re-read) and there's an unfortunate paragraph break. At the end of one paragraph, it goes, "..and the king said," then the break before getting to the actual speech. Anyhoo, just as she reaches that part, the baby stinks up the diaper, and Mom looks over and reads "...and the king said, 'Shew, you stink!'" It just fit so well into the rhythm of the story, it was actually a few years later (when I first read the book for myself) that I finally realized that that was not, in fact, part of the narrative. We still laugh about it, some 25 years later. However, I've tried reading to my kids, and they can't seem to sit still for it, especially as some of the older ones, I know, tend to move more slowly than newer books do.

Another time, I'll get into the frustrations of my beloved but crazy-making sons. And one day, I may even count my blessings! (Don't get me wrong; I really do love my kids. I'm thrilled to be able to share some of the things I love with them -- books, movies, baking -- I just get overwhelmed because they all seem to have a different personality from my own, and it can feel pretty stressful after a while.) In the meantime, peace, love and plenty of good books!!! I think I'm maybe inspired to go poking around my kids' bookshelves for some good re-reads.

life and randomness

So we're having a bit of financial iffery right now, due to unforseen circumstances (namely the AC dying in the middle of a freaking heatwave). Which means we're living pretty much hand-to-mouth trying to catch up on bills, with a birthday party on Saturday for our Middle Child. Plus, I got a tattoo on Monday. So my ankle hurts like a b*tch. Anyway, all this means I'm on a book-buying moratorium until we're caught up (which with any luck will be, oh, end of October.)

I'm kinda feeling weird about that whole thing, honestly. There's a little part of me that's all, "oh oh OH!!" at all the new releases that some of my autobuy authors are coming out with (even when the blurbs for the books are kinda leaving me "meh"). But at the same time, there's a part of me that's not really interested in reading Anything At All (although that's not really working, because I find myself re-reading a ton of stuff.) As well, I'm really excited about a new publishing venture I'm aware of, but not so much some of the authors involved (some of them are already on my auto-buy, so, yeah, wanna NOM them ASAP.)

All of this has combined to leave me a very mixed-up kitty indeed, and I've been compensating by trolling the web for free reads, none of which I've managed to download to my reader yet. I've been considering doing a massive reorganization of my digital library anyway (at least parts of it; some of my M/M stuff is improperly tagged in Calibre) but it's going to be, as I said, a massive task and I'm not sure I feel up to it. I do need to back up the newer downloads, though, just in case I ever have to completely reset the reader again. Weirdly (or not) a lot of the free reads I've downloaded are Kindle books which have to be read on the computer which gives me headaches. Swear to God, one of these days I'm going to get a cheap, older Kindle just so I can read those in freakin' e-ink. LOL  I'm not sure it's worth the cost of even a refurb'd Kindle, but even tho I know I wouldn't be pirating, I can't deal with the thought of trying to learn how to strip the DRM (yeah, I know, I'm not very technologically advanced. I have my moments, but overall....No.)

And the Oldest Child *just* told me she  has detention after school today for forgetting her ID 2x, and can I pick her up at 4? She's just lucky that I'm gonna have the van today; we're trying to only drive the one vehicle that gets semi-decent gas mileage.