In the wee small hours of the morning

It is 4:14 am and I am awake in my bed.

I woke up around 2:30 in that usual, middle-of-the-night grogginess, and suddenly I remembered I forgot to submit Bios for Nick and Nate, and those were due the 31st. (They are doing a play. Post to follow.)

I submitted the bios and then sent an email out to family members because tickets are on sale. I posted the link on Facebook. And then I realized there was a deadline for placing good luck messages in the program, so I went through all the emails ever and found the one pertaining to ads in the program. When I saw the deadline was February 12th I got so sad because I was picturing Nick and Nate looking for a good luck message from me or their dad, and finding nothing...

... then I realized it wasn't February 12th yet and I still had almost 2 weeks. My sense of time / date is totally skewed.

I printed that out. I swore to buy a HUGE ad for both boys.

While I was at it I looked up the rehearsal schedule going forward. I cancelled karate for everyone for February.

I was going to go back to sleep, but my brain is just not cooperating. Which is Why I'm here...

Week's Highlights

Andy's Birthday Party went off without a hitch despite the snow.

The kid that plows the driveway was awesome and showed up many many times to clear the driveway for me.

Actually, during the storm I got a lot of help from a number of people. I was going to write about it here, but really, it deserves its own post...

My backyard is beautiful in the snow.

Birthday Party

Last weekend we finally had Andrew's Birthday Party.

Andy was born on December 17th. It's a horrible time of year to have a birthday party. Everyone is fraught with holiday tension, schedules are crammed with holiday parties, and because of all this the party planning really needs to start before Thanksgiving. It never does.

Last year none of the boys had a birthday party, so this year I promised. It's just that we had to pick dates that were a little later than the actual birthdays. Because of Christmas, basketball games... things like that.

These days parties get ridiculous. They're all at movie theaters, laser tag, arcades. The simplest party invites 8 people for $300, and you still have to bring your own cake. It's great if you can afford it because you don't have to worry about the pizza.

But I decided not to go all out.

Steve came over and set up the playstation on the big screen in the den.

Andy had a guest list of 7 people.

We bought an ice cream cake at the market basket.

I ordered pizza to be delivered.

It snowed 8 inches and three kids cancelled.

But the four that showed up had a great time.

This is how I'm doing all of my kids' parties. The boys had a blast. They hung out and did what kids do and I didn't need to do much of anything except clean my house and worry about folks getting up and down the driveway.

Nate's birthday party is in 2 weeks. We're doing this. I'll figure out if 3rd graders are as great as the 1st graders. But so far Nate only wants 5 kids...

While I Was Out

A lot happened during my hiatus. One of them is that we lost Gunther, our sweet dog.

He'd been having more and more trouble getting up the stairs. He was eating less and less, and drinking and puking up water. One morning I came down the stairs and Gunther was exactly where I'd left him the night before. He wasn't able to lift his head off the floor. He'd puked up water during the night and had tried to get up but only succeeded in rubbing himself in it.

I had to call Steve to help me get him to the car.

It was very fast.

I miss him now that he's gone, but I'm getting used to it. I no longer stumble in the dark when I get up to use the bathroom in the night. He used to sleep in the middle of the room and no matter how I tried to avoid him he always seemed to be right under foot. I don't feel the same pressure to vacuum. We no longer had to worry about filling his water bowl or letting him in and out and in and out...

On the other hand, I get lonely when the kids aren't here. Puck and I watch TV but it's not the same. Also, I vastly underestimated the amount of food we dropped on the floor after dinner.

I miss that dog.

Call Me Maybe

I got a new phone.

This new phone replaces my iPhone3, which was an extra one Steve somehow had.
That replaced the other iPhone3 which I had dropped on the driveway and shattered - that one was also a hand-me-down from Steve.
That first iPhone3 replaced another phone - not a smart phone - that I left in the outside mesh pocket of a diaper bag during a heavy rainstorm at Santa's Village.
Before that I had my other cell phone, my first cell phone, purchase in 1999 at the mall. It was a flip phone and I thought it was the coolest thing...

Anyway... this is the first phone I'd purchased since then.

It isn't new, it's used, an iPhone 5. I like that it's used because not only is it less expensive but it makes me feel good to know I'm prolonging the life of a still useful item. People tend to go through cell phones like kleenex these days.

I love it. It's so fast and does so man things my old phone couldn't do. It doesn't just decide to shut down, like my old phone, or quit making sounds, like my old phone.

It's funny how attached I am to it. I think a lot about how technology grows and has morphed into our society. I just don't know the rules anymore.

Nick says he's one of the only 10 year olds who don't have a cell phone.

I'm not inclined to believe him, but I wonder... I want to think that I know what's right for my kids, regardless of what the masses are doing. On the other hand, if he is being denied something that everyone does have or do, then is it really a benefit?

I'm not getting him a cell phone. Not anytime soon. Not until he stops forgetting his completed homework at home or his agenda at school. But at some point, sooner than I'd like, I'm going to have to get him a cell phone. And my life will never be the same....

Maybe when he starts driving...

High Lights of the Week

I tried to think of a catchy phrase for this type of post, and that's the best I could come up with.

So, I tend to get a little down. I sometimes let the season's cold and grey weather get to me. And with the stress of working and trying to be a good parent, I tend to fall into a horrible cycle of self-criticism and too many cookies.

But a lot of great things happen, too. And this is where I'm going to post them. In a weekly recap.

 - A little girl in the church's children's choir gave me an unsolicited hug for no reason, and for a moment I remembered back when I didn't have my own children and could connect with them in a different way because I wasn't someone's mommy.

 - A friend of mine volunteered to watch my kids on Martin Luther King Day. And she told me my kids were awesome. And they are.

 - My bed is so comfortable. And my sheets are so flannel. And they are so clean.

 - I caught Andy singing the Pirate Jenny song from Three Penny Opera. I mean, how awesome is that? Then we all had an in depth conversation about Mac The Knife, and how he might be different from Jack The Ripper

The Year Of Throwing Things Away

As part of my whole Green phase, I started keeping things.

Wait - backtrack....  it wasn't a phase. When I became more ecologically aware, it was opening my mind to a reality. It was learning something, not a behavior, but a truth. You can't unlearn a truth. Only behaviors.

So... as part of my whole Green... awareness... I started keeping things.

I was keeping things because I felt they could be reused or re-purposed. I was keeping things because I felt consumerism is helping change the environment in negative and harmful ways.

But in order to re-purpose something, in order to re-use items, one has to be crafty. One has to have time. One has to have the ideas and the know how to do so.

Let me find an example.

I kept syrup bottles so I could fill them with homemade oils and vinegars.

I kept socks with holes in them so I could make a quilt or re-purposed socks.

I kept cracked mugs so I could use them as decorative planters.

None of these projects ever got finished. Or started. But I still have the socks.

I kept everything. Bits of paper to wrap gifts in. Old clothing to quilt with. Ribbons to wrap gifts or decorate or craft with... never mind that I no longer have the time to breathe, let alone craft, plant, make infused oils, etc.

I kept all my baby stuff in case someone I knew had a sudden need for a used crib, or a stroller, or a tiny inflatable pool.

I'm clearing things out this year. This year I am giving myself a break and throwing things away. Clothing I don't wear, shoes that hurt, fabric I won't use...

Almost all the things. I'm keeping the holy socks. Because... holy socks.

Bury The Lead

So, Steve is seeing someone.

People I've told have asked me how I feel about it. I'm not sure what exactly I'm supposed to feel, but the way they ask always makes me think they're fishing to see if I'm jealous. I am not at all jealous, and that is the truth. I'm actually happy for Steve and glad he's found someone to spend times with, and as far as he goes I couldn't care less about the person he ends up with. Where I do have concerns is where my children come into contact with her.

See, I'm not a great snooper, but I did kind of get online and snoop around some photos on Facebook until I managed to find what I'm pretty sure is her profile. I know. I know I'm terrible. And she seems like a pretty normal, non-mean, nice person, and knowing that makes me feel justified in my little spy mission.

It's a big step, introducing a significant other to your kids. I know some people don't think twice about it and proceed as usual, letting their kids meet dates willy nilly, but our kids are young and they get attached to people. Both Steve and I wanted to be sure anyone we introduced them to would be around for awhile.

But it's getting harder and harder. Because introducing them to the person I'm seeing would make it much easier to see him. And I guess this is my way of formally announcing that I'm seeing someone. His name is Jason, and I like him a lot. I'm trying not to be too impulsive, but I like him a lot. He's been incredibly sweet, thoughtful, and helpful. We just need to hang on to the next step... and we're not quite there yet. It's hard to keep a poker face when all you want to do is grin and shout from the rooftops.

Runaway Train

So, last week Nick tried to run away.

We were on line at the grocery store, and Nick said he was excited about screen time, and I mentioned the fact that he had used up his screen time that morning, and also that he'd lost screen time for Sunday afternoon because the week before he threw a fit when I said it was time to turn everything off.

He didn't like that. And after the usual begging and pleading and protesting and expression of discontent, he said he was running away.

A lot of kids say they're running away. I ran away myself once, with my sister. She was angry and said she was leaving. She grabbed a sweatshirt and headed for the door, and I ran out the door with her.

That's me. I'm a rebel of the following sort.

We ran around the cul-de-sac and then went right back to the house, giggling about how everyone would be surprised when we got back. When we burst into the kitchen, the babysitter informed us that our rooms had been rented out.

I figured Nick's announcement was pretty much the same amount of bluster. So I played along.

I told him it would be pretty cold, and he should wear a coat and bring a blanket. I told him we'd miss him.

Then he came into the room and he looked like this:

This is when I started to really worry. Bursts of panic were seeping through the spaces in between my giggles. I needed advice, and I needed it fast. Not knowing what else to do, I posted a statement on facebook. It said Here's a question: one of my kids is running away from home. He has packed a suitcase, has a blanket, his DS, and his Doctor Who stress toy. And he's moments away from walking out the door. How long do I play along with this, and just how do I call his bluff?

I took the above photo and posted that on facebook. I told Nick I needed a picture of him to show the police, in case they came by, so we'd remember what he was wearing...

Then Nick headed out the door.

Nate was freaking out. Nate wanted to go with him, but it was 20 degrees. I said no.

I still figured Nick would make it up the driveway then turn around.

But he got there and kept going down the street.

This is when I really started to panic. Part of me wanted to let him go and get it out of his system, but we live on a busy street, and it was cold. I could follow him to make sure he was safe, but Nate and Andy couldn't be left alone. I could call for backup, but my cell phone was dead dead dead, and by the time I called anyone and explained Nick could be anywhere.

So I turned to Nate and told him to watch Andy while I headed after Nick.

I talked him back to the house, and he took a bath while I congratulated myself on my parenting skills.

Then he got out of the bath and what followed was four hours of yelling, screaming, threatening, tantruming, and tears on all sides.

We lived. We went to the therapist. We got a new plan. But I'm tired and worn out and scared because this is my kid's life and there are no do-over's.

I know this isn't an uncommon feeling. I read this blog entry from one of my favorites - worth a few visits.

How can something like this be so funny and so heart-wrenchingly scary at the same time?

Busy Busy Lazy Busy

There's so much I want to write about.

Most of the time I sit down in front of my computer and my mind goes blank. I can't remember anything I wanted to say.

Lately I've had lots of topics on my mind.

I just don't have time to sit down and write.

But oh, so many things have been buzzing and going on around here...

Like this: I've learned how to take Selfies! Usually when I'm in bed and too lazy to get up.

Schedule

Am I organized yet?

Immigration Simulation Day

They had an Immigration Simulation Day. For the third grade.

This means that Nate came home mid-November with a stack of papers. He had to put together a family tree. He had to pull together his heritage, which apparently means the countries you're from.

Not FROM from, but just from. Like way back. Many, many generations ago.  Where you had your roots. In case you are wondering, the teachers don't think it's funny when you ask if New Jersey counts. Tennessee doesn't count either.

Nate had to pack a bag - not one with cartoon characters, or anything too brightly colored - to bring with him on his simulation boat trip across the simulated ocean. It had to have just a few objects, something to remind him of his "home" country, and a snack - nothing that would spoil during the long journey.

Nate was in tears looking for a bag that would be old enough. He stressed looking for a special object to remind him of his nation of origin. As I sorted through piles of pokemon and bakugan, I wondered aloud if we should try and convince everyone we had roots in Japan.

We also had to find Nate an outfit for his trip. Nothing too modern - the flyer the teacher provided assured us that boys should be in dark pants, preferably not jeans, and no modern graphics on the T-shirts please.

Then we got the chance - and this is so exciting it made me want to scream - to choose a special dish from our countries of origin to make and bring in for the immigration simulation workshop. I admit, I started wondering who exactly this simulation was for, and which one of us was actually a member of Mrs. M's third grade class...

I couldn't go to the simulation. I was working, and these things invariably take place during the work day. But I did get a good snapshot of him in his immigration clothing.

Lost In A Good Book

I haven't read a book in ages.

I used to have three or four going at once, and when I was tired of reading one, I'd dogear the page and pick up a different one.

I read doing everything - going to sleep, waking up, rocking babies, cooking... I read in the bath. I'd even tried to read in the shower. I'd even tried to read on the treadmill, but the words were too bouncy.

I can't tell you when I stopped, really. I think it was about the time I got my ipad. Suddenly I was playing games, and they were stupid games. Sure, I had books on the iPad, and I read some of those, but mostly I watched TV.

When Steve and I first split I read a lot of stupid E-books. In my head they don't count, because they were mostly poorly written romances with terrible typos and bad grammar. Many of them had horrible plots and dialogue that made me laugh out loud. But at 3am, they kept me sane. 

But these days, I do watch a lot more TV than before.

It's because I can't read while I fold laundry or do dishes. I can't read while I clean the house and change the sheets.

I got so many books for Christmas. And I love them all.... well, I'm excited about reading them all. I have a huge stack of them piled up, and I want to get sucked in to every single one of those marvelous worlds...

But I need to find the time. I need to make the time. I need to figure out what happened to make me unable to get lost in a good book...

One Last Night

This is it. Christmas break is officially over.

It was hardly a break for me. I was working most days. But even so, I didn't have to pack lunches in the mornings, I had a very light commute, and for the most part the boys were with Steve, so I had evenings to relax in (or do laundry in, but still...)

Tonight after dinner I asked the boys to shut off their screens and get ready for bed, and the realization hit. Tears were shed, complaints were made, and we reached a verdict: School Sucks.

It just does. Sorry. You have to sit there and pay attention to stuff you don't care about, do work you hate, and no one is paying you for it. Maybe people pick on you in the halls. Maybe you hate the horrible cafeteria food. Then you go home and it's still not done because you have to do the HOMEwork they give you, and study for tests on the stuff you don't care about. And it's hard and uncomfortable and so exasperating.

Today I marked up the schedule with the events of the month. I posted the boys' individual schedules - the days they have gym or library, so sneakers will be worn and books returned. I posted the rotating instrument schedule so the flute and the violin have a better chance of being there on the days they are needed. I posted individual index cards with events so unusual they'd be forgotten... Student Council meeting 8am Wednesday. Basketball 10:30 Saturday.

It wasn't a vacation for me. I was working. But these are things I didn't have to do or deal with for a couple of weeks, and now  will be dealing with them again.

Tomorrow morning, wake to alarm (6:30 of sleep if I fall asleep right now.) Work out. Get the boys awake. Feed them. Clean up after them. Pack snacks / lunches. Shower while supervising boys getting dressed (which means getting walked-in on three or four times in the shower.) Get the boys on the bus. With backpacks. And snacks. And library books and / or gym sneakers and / or instruments. And sheet music. And school folders. Rush for car the moment children are gone and spend 30 minutes doing a 10 minute drive.

I can do this.

Resolutions - 2015

This new year, I resolve to...

loose weight
get back in shape
dress better
take better care of my skin
keep a cleaner house
buy less stuff
keep up with the laundry more
eat better food
read more books
take more baths
breathe more deeply
help more people
spend more time with my kids
prioritize kids over cleaning
play more games with the boys
in a messy house
eating pizza and ice cream and fried apples
and maybe drinking wine

It Came Without Ribbons... It Came Without Tags... But was it any good?

One of the reasons I brought back this blog is because I didn't make it through Christmas without it.

This was a tough Christmas for many reasons. It's actually the second Christmas since Steve and I split up, so although that's still hard emotionally and scheduling-wise, we did have last year to fall back on. But this was my first holiday as a working mother, and that, THAT, made things very difficult.

It's not like my workplace didn't recognize the season. It did, actually, far before I was ready for it. There were a number of organized gift buying efforts for needy families and needy children. There were gift swaps and holiday parties and everyone gave everyone else small token gifts...

But I wasn't buying it.

I wasn't feeling it.

I was struggling to find time to buy a tree, put up the tree, decorate the tree. I ordered holiday cards and accidentally ordered only one. I didn't know what to get anyone. Including my own children.

And I wasn't blogging.

When people asked me what the kids wanted I threw together an email and forwarded that email to a number of people. Over the years I'd developed a system over this blog where I could add to the list and delete anything I knew was purchased. That helped keep duplicates at bay...

People told me what they were getting the boys, but I was either confirming that the boys had asked for those gifts, or not hearing anything at all because all I could think about was the fact that I had decided to make 30billion cookies as gifts for everyone in the world this year...

And some people told me what they had already gotten the boys. And sometimes I already knew those were duplicates. But I wasn't entirely sure what to do about that. Do I tell the gift giver that those gifts need to be returned and something new purchased for my precious baby boys? Do I go back out myself and buy new things, even though I could barely scrape up enough time to go shopping the first time? Neither seemed like good choices, and so I let it go, reasoning that some of these items were useful to have plenty of. That the boys have two homes now so they could keep toys in two places. That we could keep things quiet and not hurt any feelings.

I also didn't have a lot of time to spend at home. One day was all I had, between work and the boys' play rehearsal. Some people thought I was crazy for attempting to make the drive home for one day, but I felt like I was failing at so many other things that I didn't want to give it up. I was trying to do everything, to see everyone...

Well, I tried not to let anyone feel slighted. I tried to keep things casual and light and non-stressful because I already had stress thickly bleeding out of my ears, but not everyone can take these things with a grain of salt. So not only did I fail in the holiday card department, the decorating department, the time-spent department, and the gift giving department, I seemed to have failed in the joy-of-the-season department and I humbly apologize to those people (everyone)  I inconvenienced and / or hurt with my lack of communication. It was a rehearsal. I'll do better next year, for the real performance.

It's just that I wasn't feeling Christmas this year. Even now, after all the gifts have been opened and the dry pine needles are raining off the branches of our tree, I feel as though I skipped it. I missed it. I never caught that Holiday Spark.

Maybe for a few moments. At church. During the Christmas Eve service when we were all singing carols in the dark, candles lit, and the director stopped playing the organ... it was just our voices in the vast old space, warm with bodies close to bodies, and a certain kind of hope and belief in new things.

Next year, things will be different.

Old Friends

So... I let this blog go by the wayside.

I didn't mean to. It wasn't an intentional thing... at first. It's just that it was getting harder and harder to write things down. I was stretching more and more to find interesting things to say. The blog... this blog... it knew everything about me already, and I'd run out of interesting things to say.

I've had a number of close friends in my life, and most of them, many of them from my 20's, I imagines I would have as close friends for the rest of my life. I imagined living in the same town, raising our children together. If one of us needed time off for a date night, or shopping, we'd simply pick up the phone. In an emergency, we could drive each other's children to and from school. Our kids would play together in our backyards. We would spend long, lazy summer nights chatting while the kids splashed in the sprinkler. I know, it sounds insane, but I honestly believed this would happen.

It's not that I ever changed my mind about that. I still love these people. I haven't hung out with many of them recently, but I like to think that, if I did, I would still love them. We would still laugh together and be kind to one another. 

One day, we just spoke to each other a little less. One day we spent a little less time thinking about each other. We started turning down invitations so that we could do other things... and then one day we forgot to invite the other person at all... Or maybe one of us got very busy and simply filled her life with other things...

You think about calling, maybe, but as the days go by it just gets more and more awkward until finally you realize that, if you did call, you probably wouldn't have anything to talk about. You need a reason to pick up the phone. And unfortunately, you don't have one.

And then suddenly you find out one of your friends has had another child and you hadn't realized it. Or you go to send holiday cards and you realize you don't know your friend's address... Maybe you try to think back to the last time you spoke and you realize it's been years. Years. 

Can you still call someone a good friend if you haven't spoken to them in years? 

I sort of have feelings like that about this blog. I used to write every day. Every single day. For years.

And then... well.. I stopped writing. I stopped knowing what to say. 

That's when I actually made the choice to stop writing.

I'm taking it back.

I'm not done writing. I miss it. I have things I would like to say.

I like to think this says something about me. I like to think it means I won't stop thinking of my old friends as good friends, and that, eventually, I can be better and call them up and spend some real time with them. It takes a little time and a little effort and, if you're me, it may take a little planning, but it's worth it.

Sunday Reading

Like Cooking, but with Kids!

There are a ridiculous number of people in the world who believe that children should help in with the cooking.

Seriously, I remember being a kid and making Christmas cookies with my mom. I remember it well because there was this really odd shape of cookie cutter and I had no idea what it was, kind of a lumpy thing, and I liked using it to cut shapes out of the dough, and then I would eat the dough. My mother flipped out a bit, then chased us all from the kitchen so she could actually put some cookies in the oven, and so we would die from eating raw eggs. (by the way, the cookie cutter was a camel. I never understood what a camel had to do with Christmas, but that's because I was a heathen and camels didn't pull the sleigh.)

I've tried to get my kids interested in cooking. The books say you can... the many many cookbooks for children, most with large sections that say "GET MOMMY TO HELP YOU CUT THE CARROTS!" Made for children who are dumb enough to eat radishes just because they are peeled and placed on a plate in the shape of someone's hair. My kids are too smart for that, people. Put fruit on a pancake and guess what? It's still fruit. Only now it's ruined the pancake.

Anyway, I have my moments where I try to let the kids help. "You can get a four year old to tear the lettuce!" it says, larger-than-life smile implied in the tone of the font.

So a couple of years ago, in some strange moment of weakness, I purchased a monster cook book. It has things like mummy meatloaf and potato skins disguised as yeti claws. But it also has a few gross desserts. I let the boys each pick an item to make. Andy chose something called "Trifle With Death."

Before pouring in the lime jello, the vanilla pudding, or the marshmallows, the first step is to tear up a sponge cake. I figured if I four year old could tear lettuce, my three kids could tear up a sponge cake.

"Is this piece big enough?" Nick asked, holding up a crumb the size of a raisin.
"It says one inch pieces," I said.
blank looks.
"A little bigger, like this," I said, holding up a piece about the size of a large grape.
"Is this big enough?" Nick asked, holding up a crumb the size of a raisin.
"No," I said.
"Like this? Like this? IS this good?" as all three boys needed me to approve every single pinched morsel of squashed sponge cake that went into the dish.

It was slightly insane.

The boys ate half the marshmallows. They were really impressed with the jello. And the pudding, which was stirred for about three seconds before the boys gave up.

The concoction is now in the fridge until tomorrow, when we get to sprinkle the top with crushed oreos and gummy worms. And gummy eyeballs, if we can find them before then. I'm afraid, and already feeling slightly ill.

The Dark

Maybe it's because it's been raining the last couple of days, but it's been dark.

Yes, overcast and rainy, but not just that.

When my alarm goes off in the morning, it looks like the middle of the night. It's still dark out.

When I leave work, before 5pm, the sky is already darker, the sun already going down.

Day are shorter.

Nights are longer.

I'm just commenting: It's hard to get out of bed. Harder. Than before.