The Glass Is Always Full

It's not that I had a particularly bad day today.

I didn't, really. Nothing extremely bad happened, and by that I mean that we have reached this point, where the boys are in bed, everyone has been fed, we are all safe and fed, and there are no impending disasters.

And yet... yet today would not be considered what I call "an easy day."

Last night Steve spent the night in his new place, which is not too far away. Change isn't always bad, but it's always change, and it takes time to adjust.

One of the boys wet the bed, and it wasn't the one I'd expect. I discovered this later in the day, after the mattress had the chance to soak everything up.

I didn't get a job today. Again.

But I did get to see some of the jobs I applied for previously re-appear on the boards. Meaning that whoever was in charge  looked at my application and decided NOT that they were better off hiring a better applicant, but that they were better off hiring NO applicant.

This includes the job as a lunch lady at a nearby school.

Steve and I had a talk about issues surrounding the divorce, and while it wasn't a horrible conversation, it was tense and emotional, and after he left I cried, as I do every single time.

The refrigerator suddenly began leaking water from someplace in the freezer, because what I need now is a broken fridge leaking water all over my kitchen. It occurred to me that I have no idea how the thing is even hooked up. I switched the ice maker off, which stopped the water pouring out the bottom, and vowed to clean under my fridge soon because it's gross down there.

I didn't write the thing I told myself I was going to write today.

I spent 20 minutes arguing with Andy about who was going to use my ipad. (um, me?)

It took the boys forever to get dressed for karate, even though I gave them 45 minutes of heads up.

I lost my car keys just before it was time to leave for karate. After yelling at the boys to hurry up because it took them so long.

In the car, I started thinking.

I used to know some people who were just so pessimistic. Nothing was ever right for these people. Life was, and for some of them is still, a series of unfortunate events. "Why do I have such bad luck?" they moan. I knew a lot of these people in High School - which is to be expected, teen angst and all. Also, I feel that at that age, kids haven't always learned to take responsibility for what happens. (I broke my arm! Dude, you were skateboarding on a wall.) In college I knew a few, too. Some of these people are still this way.

I decided I could very easily be one of those people if I didn't snap out of this really soon.

I've read that we make our own luck. Not by actually doing anything, but with our state of mind. If we can see the good stuff, then we are happier, feel luckier. And to be honest, other people are more likely to smile at you and be nice to you, completing a sort of cycle, when you smile and don't radiate discontent and gloom.

So I started making a list of all the things that went well today.

Nathan lost a tooth.

Andy and I had a really good time sitting in bed playing a hidden object game.

Before that, we went grocery shopping and also had a great time.

I had a nice talk with a local 12 year old who was excited to show me his Magic cards. One was from as far back as 1994. Which, I think, is just about when my friends were all playing Magic. I never understood it, but still loved that this kid was playing.

Tonight, after dinner, I had a glass of wine.

The boys helped me clean up after dinner.

I don't have to get up early tomorrow. For anything.

Some people see the glass as half full, and some see it as half empty. But if you look at things from the right point of view, it's all going to be OK, which is way more important. I feel better now that I've thought about the positives. I feel more in control, more satisfied. More empowered. The glass is always full. It's half liquid, and half air. And air is better than nothing.

School, Day 1

 This year, everyone is in the same school. Because of how our schools are broken up by grade level, this won't happen again until Andrew is a freshman in high school.

Nick is in the 3rd grade.
Nate is in 2nd grade.
Andrew is in Kindergarten. For two and a half hours every morning.

 As you can see, they all have different attitudes about going back.

I think it's going to be a great year.
School-wise, anyway.

The Golden Age of Giving Up

When kids are young, parents and caregivers feel the need to be around them all the time. This is so that the toddlers won't get into anything dangerous, or accidentally walk out of the house and down the street, or try to give themselves a bath. And before you laugh, in my house growing up, all three of those things happened with one kid or another within a short period of time, before anyone realized the kid was missing.

At some point a decision is made, and the child can suddenly play by himself. He has the freedom to go outside in the yard if he wants, or to play in one of the upstairs rooms while I make a lasagna.

The boys have had a number of friends over as part of our "Oh, No! Summer's Over!" scramble to have fun. I don't plan anything. I just let the kids run around or play upstairs, checking in periodically, and other than that I just let them be.

I was patting myself on the back for my laid-back parenting style, letting them develop their imaginations, get some exercise, and have some good old fashioned fun instead of either video games or structured 'play." Way to go, me! And I realized a lot of it had to do with the age my boys are at this particular moment. Still young enough to want to play pretend, and not too young to be out of sight unsupervised.

Parents. Here is some free advice: never congratulate yourself. There is always a catch.

Mine was when I realized there was black marker all over the inside of the boys' closet. And when someone decided to make a frog trap with peanut butter and a box, by placing a box on the front stoop with a lump of peanut butter on the bricks next to it. Which melted in the hot sun and because a lump of slimy... Do frogs even eat peanut butter? Also, someone decided he needed sugar for this trap, and sugar was sprinkled all over my kitchen counter (previously clean.) Also, there was an incident with a huge stick hitting someone in the eye while they were playing a game called "Invasion."

The result was that, forty minutes after patting myself on the back, I asked the boys if they wanted early screen time. Just so they'd sit still and stop... doing... what they were doing.

They Say It's A Virtue

I have never been a patient person.

Now, I don't like thinking of myself as the kind of person who rushes over everyone to get through the door first, or who shouts "spit it out!" when someone is having a hard time getting to the point. I would hate to think that, in traffic, I'm the one with my hand on the horn.

I'm not. Usually.

Over the years I have developed a kind of restraint.

I especially don't want to be the kind of person who is impatient with my children. They are children. They are learning. And they need time to be able to stand on their own feet before they run.

I'm not talking about things like putting shoes on the mat, or forgetting to close the refrigerator door. Hello, those are just manners. I'm the mom, and I can point those out immediately with a little reproachfulness in my voice.

It's the other things.

This summer, I asked the boys to do 4 homework pages a day. 4 pages. Of math.

On one hand, that's a lot.

On the other hand, it's only 4 pages.

Nate spent 3 hours doing those 4 pages today.

He got most of the questions correct. It isn't that he's having trouble with the actual math. It's just that he spend most of  his time either banging his fist on the table, singing to the ceiling, or moaning "It's not fair! I'm BAD at MATH!" The whole reason I make then do things like this is so that they learn how to use their brains, how to think through a problem. When kids are young, I think they don't always do this naturally. They want you to help them. That's code for 'they want you to tell them the answer.'

While Nate was doing this, I was cooking and folding laundry and generally wishing I had a stick to poke through one of our brains, because I was sure we wouldn't both survive it.

I feel this way often when practicing piano. All of the boys do the same thing. I open the book to what they are supposed to play. Usually it's a silly piece called something like "Summer Wind" or "Grandmother's Lace." The boy will sit down, stand up, sit down. Then he'll just sit, staring at the music. Then he will take a deep breath, and place his hands above the keys.

Then he will look up, squinting at the printed notes, just to make sure they haven't changed. He looks down. He moves his hands to the correct keys. He looks up. He looks down. He moves his hands up a few notes. Then down too many notes. Then he looks up at the music again. He looks down. He takes a deep breath. He shakes his head really fast. He finally picks a note to play. He plays it with the wrong finger.

"Nate, use your two."

"Aahhhhhghhhh!" he yells, slipping his behind off the chair and onto the floor.

And the whole process begins again.

What They Believe

In the years that I studied psychology and / or education, I learned that just because children don't ask questions doesn't mean they understand a subject. If you withhold information, they will simply make something up so that it will all make sense in their heads.

For example, when I was a little girl, we drove into New York every day from our home in New Jersey, because NY was where I went to school. We took the George Washington Bridge, and there was a toll which, at the time, was a dollar. I asked my mother why we had to pay the toll, and she told me that, if we didn't pay the toll, the bridge would fall down.

What she meant, of course, was that the money collected at the toll went to repair and fix up the bridge so that it would remain standing.

What I understood was that, if you were to step on the gas at the tollbooth instead of paying, the bridge would collapse as you crossed over it to prevent you from getting to the other side, bringing down countless other commuters with you in the process. I spent a lot of time worrying that someone else would try to not pay the toll and the bridge would crumble beneath us as we crossed, or maybe as we sat in the endless traffic, innocent victims. We would plummet into the Hudson River, which was dangerous, dirty, and full of giant octopus-type monsters. I knew this because, even though we could swim, my parents had both told us we couldn't swim in the Hudson, because there was stuff in it.


Another example of kids filling in information: In the car yesterday, Nick asked if people could eat cactus. (Because sometimes, just sometimes, kids will ask you questions like that from out of nowhere. And as the mom, I know everything.)

"Duh! Yes!" said Nate, who was obviously more than a little irritated at the simplicity of the question. "Because people drink water, right? And where does water come from? Cactuses."

Nate (and Nick) central Park, April 2013

Really. I have no idea where he got that.

No Formula

Have I reached middle age? Am I in trouble now? Is this the crisis everyone warned me about? I'm an adult, but I'm moving backward. I'm going back to people for help when I should be standing on my own no matter what. I feel like a student left back a grade, until I learn how to write.

puck 2013

The thing is, there are no grades, no A's and no F's In the end, no one will be there to judge my performance, and so what if they do? I'll be dead. I may as well just go ahead and live things my own way, best I can. I should spend time with the important people, do the things that we love doing, and sing all my old favorites until we're sick of hearing them.

cape cod 2013

A life is not a job, so the job I get will not be my life. I'll get one sooner or later, but there's no sense stressing about it. This is the time I have with my kids, the last lazy week of summer. We should use it well.

Andy & Gunther 2013

Nick 2013

Nate & Gunther 2013

The Real Staycation

After I dropped the boys off and went home, I faced days of being alone.

I have never lived alone. I grew up in a big house, which was always full of people. In school I had roommates, and after school I had housemates. I have lived in a house with three rambunctious boys for years. I am accustomed to noise.

I would like to say that I didn’t know what to do with myself, but that would be untrue. I immediately set out to do the things that I can only do when the boys aren’t there. I did a lot of laundry. I washed the icky mattresses the boys have used since giving up night-time pull-ups. I slept in until after 7am. Every. Single. Morning. I sorted through all of the boys toys, putting some aside for goodwill and throwing broken ones in the trash.

I even got to go out and meet some friends to go over music without worrying about leaving the boys behind. I spoke to at least three people on the phone without interruption.

I woke on Friday at almost 8am. There was no rush to do anything at all. All three pets descended the staircase with me, asking to be fed. The house was quiet, and had never been so clean. I felt as though I had some control over something, and that all would be well. I left to buy groceries feeling very zen.

And then, before I could go through the file cabinet, or clear out the art drawers in the kitchen, or get to the outside toys at all, the boys came home.

They brought with them four loads of dirty, sandy laundry, some of which is still sitting in Wall-E suitcases in the living room. They immediately asked to be fed, as they hadn’t had lunch. They were cranky and needed baths. By the time dinner rolled around they had managed to cover both the bedroom and the toy room with various cards and toys and blankets, and I had tripped over the same pair of shoes in three different locations.

That, my friends, is what a real staycation is. And mine was over.

Last week, Steve rented a house down in Cape Cod, and on Monday I drove the boys down to join him.

The house is the same house we stayed in a few years ago. The kids were much, much younger then, and I remember being pretty nervous about the steep stairways.

The house itself is just fantastic, with tons of bedrooms all jumbled together. They’re all kind of stacked together, as though someone created them separately and then picked them up, one block at a time, not looking to see if the next room was a hallway or a bathroom or a bedroom. It’s the perfect beach house.

Nick, Cape Cod, 2013

Cape Cod 2013

I was only there for a day, but managed to get a lot in. We went to the beach, we went for a walk to the windmill down the street, we went out for lobster - thank you, Lillian!. The next day we went out to breakfast at The Pancake Man! 

Sand Sculpture
Cape Cod 2013

The Pancake Man
Cape Cod, 2013

Gimme a Head With Hair...

Nick, August 2013

Yes, we did this.

For the record, he asked me to.

After a few hours, and some teasing from his brothers (I told them to stop) Nick took them out, saying he thought it felt strange.

I honestly don't have strong feelings about Nick having long hair, except that I think it's his head, and he should feel comfortable in it. I do want it to be neat, though. And these pigtails? They re much neater than his usual mess of tangles.

Mommy Fail

Nate was reading a new library book to us at bedtime. It was a book called Odd Duck, and it's about ducks. Story ducks, you know, who act like people, but who are ducks, all the same.

At this point in our story, the Main Duck was meeting the New Neighbor Duck, who was, as luck would have it, different. One might even say, odd.

The book said: But one thing was for certain.

Nate read aloud: But she knew one thing. He was Korean.

And that's when I cracked up laughing. I think Nate was embarrassed. He placed his hand over my mouth. "Laugh with your mouth closed!" he said.

But I just couldn't! I kept picturing a Korean Duck.

Nate, Cape Cod, 2013

Create

If you're in New York...

I just came back from New York.

It was a quick trip - down Friday, back Monday. I'm wearing exhaustion on top of my fatigue. And unless you are one of a few people, you either cannot or have already experienced the Main Attraction, which is my crazy family. But I did want to share two things in particular that anyone, Anyone At All can experience should they so choose.

And they should choose. To experience these two things:

1 - Peter and the Starcatcher. Saw it. Loved it. I don't see a lot of theatre these days, so you can keep that in mind when I say it's different than anything I've seen in years. Decades. It's fun - I laughed. It's touching - I cried. The boys loved it, and it is perfectly suitable for adults. And I'm not at all biased by the talented guy I know in the show. Who is Amazing! And would be, even if I didn't know him. See what I'm saying? See how that works? Good. Now do yourself a favor and go see it. Soon.

2 - Spadium. It's a spa. It's a Korean spa. I don't know much about Spas in general, so I wasn't sure what that meant, but Linda, who was the arrangement maker in this excursion, forwarded me this article. I read it, but still wasn't sure what to expect because, you know, people exaggerate. They go to spas a lot and get used to things a certain way, and then don't adapt well? But this spa actually WAS three flights of stairs down a creepy hallway. It was spooky. And then we had to take off every inch of clothing. And then these ladies in black lace bras and panties (and I mean lace lace, not just regular not-see-through material with lace on the edges) rubbed our bodies with sandpaper mitts for an HOUR. I mean, every inch of my body. My armpits. My neck. I recently went to my GYN for a lady visit, but this stranger who spoke almost no english got much, much better acquainted with my body. Then we went into the sauna, and I had Linda check to make sure my back wasn't bleeding. And then we went back onto the table for a massage and facial. Which apparently included a salt rub. Which hurts on freshly scrubbed skin. Also, the table was so slick with oil I thought I was going to fall off. The only non-slippy part of me was my face, which was firmly planted into the towel on the edge of the bed. Every once and awhile the underwear lady would splash me with a bucket of warm water.
Overall, this was a strange experience. I want to say I liked it, but my skin is a little sore. And rug-burnish in places I don't usually experience rug burn. Like my neck. It IS an experience, though. So you should try it if you're into spa stuff. I might go once more, just to make sure how I feel.

You are getting sleeeeepy...

Do NOT laugh at me. Seriously, do NOT make fun of me, at least not more than just a little bit.

A few months ago, I got this hypnotism app for my ipad.

Stop laughing!

See, it was free, and it was late at night, and I was browsing through free apps, and I found one that said "Sleep Soundly." And it was free, so I thought, why not give it a try?

It was this lady talking, and she didn't sound like a hypnotist. When I think about it, she sounded a little dazed, and slow, and maybe just a little stoned.

I think it worked. I say that because I never once made it to the end of the session. I always fell asleep first. Which was kind of the point.

After a couple of weeks I got a second session, which was also free. It was "past life regression." I followed the lady as she led me (in my mind) to the edge of a forest or bridge, and then I would wake up. I have NO idea what she said in the second half, and fell asleep each time.

I hadn't used the app in months, but the other night - again, past midnight - I was browsing apps and again I found a hypnotism app. A couple, actually. One was for weight loss - maintaining a healthy weight and emphasizing the paleo trend, one for sleeping a deep and productive sleep, and one for attracting your dreams and desires.

Snorting counts as laughing!

First of all, the speaker is much more professional. In my head, I picture B.D. Wong, He talks about hypnotism during the first part of each one, and explains how it's normal, and everybody does it without knowing it.

So, this is what I think: these hypnotism things work. At putting me to sleep.All of them put me to sleep. I can't tell you about weight loss, or attaining anything I desire, but sleep - yes. I listen to them, though. Something about the voice. I like it when I wake up and B.D. Wong is whispering in my ear, "lean cuts of organic, grass fed meat, some dairy, and whole grain breads."

Water Park

The kids bugged me to take them to Canobie Lake Park.

I didn't want to. It's not far. It's about fifteen minutes from our home, actually. Storyland is 3 hours north, and we've been there every single year since we can remember. But Storyland is geared toward tiny people. Canobie specializes in the types of rides that leave you brain damaged. Or that you actually have to be mental to go on.

Strap me into a tube and swing me 14 stories into the air while spinning me around backwards and twirling the whole thing upside down? Sure! Let me just grab lunch first.

I first went to Canobie Lake Park with my friends Julie and Betsy.  I thought Julie was lying when she said there was an amusement park up in NH. I seem to remember getting there late, going into the maze, winning some prize at the arcade, and then riding this raft water ride eleven billion times. In street clothes. Oh, and Betsy went on her first roller coaster?

This time, Nate wanted to go on everything, but Andy was too short, and Nick was too nervous to go on the roller coasters by himself. I talked him into going on the Pirate Ship Swing thing with Nate, and he said that was enough.

Convinced I could be Cool Mom, I drove the race cars with the boys, and then took them on the Twist and Shout ride. Like a tilt-a-whirl. I laughed for a minute, and then got that nauseous feeling. Seriously, these days a carousel gets me dizzy. I am officially a grown up, and can no longer enjoy bouncy spinny brain scrambles.

But there was one thing there we all really enjoyed. It was 100 outside. So, so hot. The hottest day of the year. Trust me, no matter who you were, you wanted to be right there.

Canobie Lake Park, 2013
Castaway Island

This one time...

So, I found this cartoon on Facebook.

I know Facebook is terrible and horrible and takes advantage of it's users and sells all of your private information to companies for billions of dollars, but it's all worth it to find this cartoon (artwork by The Awkward Yeti, it said) and remember this.

This story involves a wonderful friend of mine, Betsy. Betsy was my roommate, and she put up with me and my antics for a whole year. Not including college.

This one time, I decided we should go to the grocery store and each get our own pie. That way, I reasoned, we wouldn't have to share, or even be bothered having to slice it up first. We could just... dive in.

So I dragged Betsy to Star Market and all but forced her to choose a pie. I chose one for myself. We had two pies. And then we went home, settled ourselves in front of the TV, and began to eat.

After awhile, Betsy spoke up. She said she'd had enough, and was feeling sick, and wouldn't eat any more. I looked over at her pie. There was a small circular hole in the center, but it was small. It was maybe the amount of pie one would eat in a single slice. It was so tiny.

I looked at my pie. The crater I had made in the center was much, much larger. But I wasn't done. I could still keep going. And I did. I ate and I ate, and then I got this feeling. It wasn't because I was eating too much. I don't think I felt sick. I think it was more like a voice in my head saying, "Kathleen. You should not eat a whole pie. That is gross and wrong."

So in the end I ended up putting away my pie before I was done, even though I could so totally have eaten the whole thing, just because I felt it was the right thing to do. I didn't go the distance. I gave up.

I may need to try again.

The Great Job Search

So... I'm looking for a job.

There are a few things, making this hard.

First off, I haven't worked in 9 years. For some reason this makes potential employers see me as untrustworthy. Maybe they think I've just forgotten how to work, that I might have an urge to eat bonbons and put my feet up after only 20 minutes of hard... whatever it is this particular job requires.

There are other things, but I'm not going to get into them right now because this post is set up to be full of complaints as it is, and I don't want it to get too heavy and stale.

Anyway, I've been looking at all sorts of things, from jobs as teacher assistants to jobs as recruiting assistants to office manager positions.  I haven't gotten tired of looking on the job site, though. It's always a surprise, looking at the types of jobs it 'thinks' I might be interested in.

Order Filler, part-time, 3pm to midnight, M-F, 20 hours a week. Apparently you don't need math.

Environmental Test Tech. Because of my environmental background, I'm sure. Or maybe it was all the science?

Assembler I. Must be able setups systems.

Delivery Tech. part-time. At least 1 year(s).

Extrusion Supervisor. I didn't even know what this was. I had to look it up. Apparently it has something to do with jumpsuit clad smiling people and plastics. I've heard good things about plastics. But seriously, is it my science background?

Anyway, I'm still looking. I haven't given up. In the meantime, I'm thinking of emailing the job site and asking if they need a proofreader. Not that I'm a great proofreader, but I found those mistakes.

Things I've Learned Recently (or knew before but had to be reminded)...

 - I like to think I'm a person who likes heat. I prefer hot weather over cool weather. I used to think the heat couldn't really get to me. I was wrong. The heat makes me cranky and irritable, and amplifies every speck of stress in me until I'm made of it.

 - I was sure I could keep the house in order this summer if I tried to tidy it each morning. I was wrong. Three boys vs. one me. The move in different directions, and mess stuff up faster than I can tell them to pick up.

 - I was sure by now that we would be further along in this divorce process. As of yet, every little thing has taken me much, much longer to accomplish than I assume. I sit down to complete a paper, and I need two days to collect all the data. Or I realize I don't have some of the answers. Or I realize I need to make a phone call, and the other person will be available on Tuesday.

 - No matter how much I wish that wanting a job will count in some cosmic, bigger universe way, it doesn't. And it didn't.

 - I can want two opposing things at the same time. For example, I want that other job. I also want to put my kids on the bus and to be with them as soon as they get out of school.

 - As much as I wish I were one of those people who reacted to stress by doing more physical stuff and forgetting to eat, it turns out I'm a stress eater. I can eat nine donuts in six hours. Even though I'm trying to rid myself of the few extra pounds I've gained over the past couple of months, I seem to be gaining instead. And very quickly.

 - When family or friends send me emails or call me, just to check in, I feel better. When they ask if they can do anything and I say "no," it's because they've already done it. I am so grateful for all of them.

Thar Be Spoilers

So, I've been having a bit of a hard time of late. Steve and I are getting a divorce. I'm not going to get into the details of it here, because this is not the proper forum, but I can tell you about some of the side effects. The biggest adjustment for me, so far, is finding myself in a situation I haven't previously imagined myself in. I've been imagining myself married and a parent since I was a little girl. I never imagined myself divorced. It changes not only the way I look at myself, but by necessity it changes every other aspect of my life. At this point, practically everything is up in the air, and there is nothing settled.

I've tried and tried to come up with a way to describe what I've been feeling, and this afternoon I finally found a way. A strange, roundabout way, but.... hold on.

I've been watching this TV show called Pramface. It's a British TV show about two teenagers who have a one night stand and get pregnant. I know. I watch too much TV. And I know. You're wondering where I'm going with this. Hold on. I'll tell you.

In the last episode of the first season, the 18 year old girl goes into labor while out shopping with her 16 year old father-of-her-child. They rush off to get into the car and get to the hospital, but the boy has forgotten which level of the car park (garage) he left the car. Eventually the girl realizes she is too close to giving birth to keep wandering around a parking garage and takes shelter in a storage closet.

The boy, meanwhile, panics and calls his parents, who are traveling for the weekend as a plot device. Not only were they travelling, but they were hiking on a hillside with sheep, and his father had recently fallen and broken his ankle after telling his wife he lost his job.

Seriously, just hold on.

It reaches the part where the girl is screaming and crying and the boy is on the phone with his mother and emergency, and he says I don't know what I'm doing! I don't know how to do this!

At which point (and here is mine, finally) his father takes the phone and speaks his words of wisdom (more or less what I've written below, with my own cuts.)

Take a deep breath...I know you're scared, but this isn't about you... It doesn't matter that you don't know what you're doing. What's important is that you look like you know what you're doing... I'm sorry, but life is going to be like this from now on. Most of the time I have no idea what I'm doing, but when people are depending on you, you can't let them know that. You've just got to plant your feet and do your best. 

It actually gave me comfort, hearing that. Now, that might mean I'm in a super-low place, if I'm getting my words of wisdom from fluffy teen parenting TV shows. But it also might mean that there is value in everything, and that true things can be found everywhere. I choose to take things where I can get them, especially if I feel they speak directly to me. This thing that the father character said made me feel good because I suddenly remembered that, yeah, no one knows what they're doing. Who the heck knows how to get a divorce? Only a few crazy people who have done it more than a couple of times, probably.  And when it comes to that, I remember when I felt that way about doing laundry (which I now do in my sleep) and paying bills. For now, I'll just plant my feet and do my best.

What's My Scribble?

I got the boys journals, and in the summer I make them write something every day. Nick has taken to drawing elaborate and colorful images, and will actually write a few sentences about something he likes.

Nathan usually draws a circle and writes a word like "pie" or "fish."

But then this morning he did this. Let me know when you've figured it out.

Nate's Journal, July '13

Party Rockers

The boys get an allowance.

The idea is to give the boys their own money for doing things around the house - making their beds, feeding the pets, clearing the table, etc. For this they each get $2 a week, and they have control on what they spend it on.

I'm going to say that part again because it's the part this post has to do with.

They have control on how they spend their own money.

It's such a basic concept. And it seems so easy. But it is so, so, so very difficult.

First of all, they do not get to choose when they spend it. It's not like they can just drive on down to the store and buy some cracker jacks, they need to get to the store, which means convincing a parent (me) to take them to a store.  We don't live in a city. Any trip to a store will take an hour at least, and longer if it's crowded, or we can't decide on something, or can't find what it is we're looking for. The point being, taking the boys to the store is An Event.

And then once we get there, it is very very hard to relinquish control. The boys have to figure out what they can afford, first of all. And then from that pool of objects they usually pull out something... like... pokemon cards. We have, at last count, about 440,793 Pokemon cards already, all in different locations but mostly stuffed in the springs of our couch. I have given the boys boxes, bins, bags, and storage books, in an effort to convince them to pick them up, but they always seems to be on the floor on in the sink. So when they tell me this is what they want to get, I just want to scream "No! What are you, CRAZY?"

The same goes for poorly made plastic frisbees, erasers shaped like cats or food, and tiny stuffed animals that make noise.

But I have to let them buy these things. It's their money. All I can do it remind them that when I see these things on the floor of my house, I throw them away. The only things I try to restrict are food items (sweets) and things I find offensive (guns, guts, and gross language).

So when Nick asked for this Furby Party Rocker (ordered online, he paid me cash and I used points) I felt that I had to say yes. Then Andy wanted one, and he had just enough. And eventually Nate got one also.

These things don't have off buttons. They are smaller than normal furbies, and only have one personality. They like to 'wake up' at 4am. But they do this: sing in harmony.

So this happened... a Face Book Post

My Brother's Facebook status was as follows: On Facebook, sometimes you find out what your friends had for breakfast. Other times, you find out your big sister got married!!!!

I commented: I know, right?

My Other Sister commented: Haha. She sent me a text first. #favoritism


When I first saw the original post, the post that started it all, I yelped.

"Woohoo! Emily got married!"

Nick jumped out of his chair and shouted, "Cool!... to who?"



Which is kind of silly, really. I don't think Nick could remember a time when Emily and Kelly weren't together. I am overjoyed that it's made official, and wish the newlyweds all the good things in life.

Emily and Kelly - Just Marrried
I stole this photo from Emily's Facebook page, I hope she doesn't yell at me!
I'm just so excited and wanted to share the news with the whole entire world!

Summer Hair

I have to admit, it broke my heart a little to see Andy like this. Up until now, his haircuts have been little snippy trims. But this keeps him cool, and he gets a lot less jam in his hair.

Also, Nick's hair is still a huge mass of curls, so it's enough for all 3 of them.

Give A Kid A Camera

This time, though, Nick took the camera. I think Nate took that second picture.

Minecraft

I don't know what it does, but my kids are obsessed.

You won't let us play on the computer?

Fine. We'll build them out of paper.

Orchid

It's in my window. I thought it had died. I was wrong.