Cheap manual labor

Swinging and Sledding all in the same afternoon

Harrison just runs from the camera, so you'll have to "endure" more pictures of my Ella

I've totally decided that I could handle staying at home - ALL THE TIME. Chris, however, reminded me that if this happened I would probably spend too much money. He's right. With access to crowd-free weekday shopping, there's no telling what I could do. I don't like, though, staying home for not-so-wonderful reasons.

Last week I was off from school, and this week I went in on Monday but then Tuesday and Wednesday I stayed home with a sick girl. Chris stayed this morning and took her to the doctor. After a lovely procedure involving the longest Q-tip up her nose EVER, she has been diagnosed with (drumroll, please) the flu.

It started Saturday morning. Ella woke up. Asked for breakfast. Gulped it down and then projectile vomited into the kitchen sink. She seemed perfectly fine afterwards. No whining or tears. Just requests for more food. We thought it might have been a mild something that was gone. We tentatively packed her things for ski lessons and threw a bucket in the van as a last-minute precaution.

Thinking I was mom-of-the-year, I packed the kids' lunches for the ride to the resort (about 40 minutes) so that they would be fully nourished for their afternoon. Ella ate just fine, but started complaining about her neck. She ALWAYS complains about her neck in the car. We stopped worrying about this complaint about two years ago. We have no idea what the problem is, but she hasn't died or fallen over so it must not be too terrible. Anyway, the neck complaint was followed by stomach complaints. We were still in denial because the traffic up the canyon was terrible. We were focused on getting to the lessons on time. About five miles from the top, the traffic became gruesome. Cars were parked all along the side of the road and there were people walking with ski equipment everywhere. Apparently, large amounts of fresh snow, warm temps and sunshine attract everybody and their brother to the top of picturesque mountains to utilize fabulous ski resorts. For some reason we were surprised.

In stop and go traffic, she threw up lunch. It was a wonderful scene. I think my favorite part was the "YUCK, YUCK, YUCK!" spewing out of Harry. No sympathy, just disgust. We delivered him to his lesson and then drove back down. She seemed much better - we even ran to the furniture store to purchase a couch we'd been contemplating - but it keeps coming back. Not the stomach stuff. Now it's a runny nose, fever, sore throat and INTENSE, NON-STOP coughing. Tomorrow we'll be home again. I pray it's almost over - this is getting painful to watch. Nothing worse than helplessly watching your child in discomfort.

Like Grandfather, like granddaughter

When I was little, my dad painted every surface of our house. It took him years. When he was working on the woodwork, especially, he would stick out his tongue and contort his mouth in a really weird way. If I brought attention to this, he would overexaggerate and it would always make me and my brother laugh.

I forgot about this until I had Ella. As she is learning to write words, or while she is manipulating Playdoh, she does the same thing.

Down five

So, here we go again. I’m back on Weight Watchers. What is this? My fifth or sixth time? I don’t know anymore. I am not going to meetings or paying to get weighed. I don’t need to – I know the system so well, and already own all their “tools”, so why bother? I would love to know why I keep losing and gaining the same 10-15 lbs. over and over again, but frankly – I’m sick of thinking about it.

I have a couple of different incentives this time. First, I have become extremely embarrassed about how I look in a bathing suit. This is an issue because there is a pretty cool indoor pool in our neighborhood. Ella had an invite to a birthday party there a few weeks ago and I donned a suit as she isn’t extremely comfortable swimming alone. It was excruciatingly awful – exposing myself in front of all the other preschool moms and dads. Both kids had a blast and expressed interest in returning as soon as possible. All I could think about was how I was going to distract this thought from their heads. I’m not sure this is a great parenting technique. Also, I am heading to Florida in late March. More bathing suit wearing. Yuck.

I’ve got another incentive – I want to win a contest. I’m not normally a competitive person. Being competitive means that one excels at something. I usually am more in the “moderately competent” area of things rather than excelling. However, after all the dieting I’ve done over the years, I have found my greatest skill. I can lose weight. For a while. Which is why this contest is perfect for me – it’s only six weeks long. It’s cleverly called “The Biggest Loser”. It’s being held at my new school. I figured I could use a boost and reluctantly joined. I didn’t have a team, so I was put on one. I am now on a team (The Desperate Housewives) with three other non-teachers and THE PRINCIPAL. This changed everything. I now feel a stronger expectation to take the contest seriously.

All of a sudden, I’ve started eating in the teacher’s lounge so that I can appear as more of a team player. I am exchanging dieting tips with anyone and everyone. It’s actually a bit scary – I’m really knowledgeable. People are seeking me out to find out the name of my 1 point bread and my brand of ice cream sandwich (Skinny Cow, by the way.) I guess this is one way to finally get to know my co-workers a bit better.

I’ve been somewhat reclusive since I started this new job. I stuck to my work, stayed in my office and only ventured out when I needed something. Now, however, I am starting to (gasp) make some new friends. I’m not going to go crazy, or anything. No scrap booking parties or happy hours, but I do exchange weekend stories with a few people once in awhile now. This diet thing, though, is my ticket. It really has everyone talking.
By the way – I’m tied for first place.

Clean Air

We're experiencing an inversion in Salt Lake. It's a fancy word for bad-ass smog. Thick smog. Can't see the mountains through it smog. It's even taking on a color - I call it taupe. Yesterday we drove up to Park City to breathe. The health officials advise against outdoor exercise right now. They even say that we should cover our mouths and noses when we go out. (And I chose to move here for the beautiful nature and scenery?) So we drove above the smog into the mountains and went to our favorite park. We avoided the movie stars and enjoyed the suburban lifestyle where people have houses with more than one bathroom.

It was blissful.

As you can see, we've been busy.

I would like to blame my slowdown in posting on my harried schedule, but truthfully I've just been uninterested. Or more honestly, I think my "audience" is uninterested. I have a lot going on. We are busy and fulfilled, but I can't seem to get these things down on paper in a creative way. Because of this, I hold back from posting. It's really a vicious cycle because I vowed I would never get like this. Worried about my "public". Who am I kidding? I have no public. I have a few faithful readers who I've "known" since forever, but other than that - I'm just one of the millions of mommy blogs out there with no specific niche. Why do I care? I never used to. I started this as a place to keep a journal of my kids' lives. I used this forum because I was surrounded by bloggers and they made it sound fun and interesting. Hell, one of my friends makes money doing this. Me, however, I struggle to make my bed daily (recall my latest post about being lazy) let alone write tons of creative, funny posts that would attract advertisers and readers.

Enough complaining...just thought I would explain my thinking of late.

Actually we have been busy. Working part time has afforded my sanity the peace it needed to become a more balanced mom. I have now entered the extracurricular circuit. We have explored many free trial first-time classes and seem to be narrowing in on some choices. Ella has chosen gymnastics (although Harry seems equally interested) and Harrison has started karate. I'm happy with the gymnastics venue and classes, but not so much with the karate. We are attending a class in a room off the gym in the neighborhood middle school. I like the "pay as you go" set-up due to Harrison's fickleness, but dislike almost everything else about it. Too much talking in language WAY over his head, and not enough direct instruction. What do I expect for $6? I also enrolled him in a great art class that is downtown in a really funky art studio. Unfortunately, I think I love it more than he does. He can't stay focused if they are doing an activity that he doesn't love - which means pretty much anything beyond building LEGOS or drawing ships. We'll stick with it. It is much more than $6.

Chris and I are having fun planning things that we want to do in the future. I planned a trip to see my dad in April. Never could find any reasonable prices for tickets to Florida, so we decided it would be best for me to go alone. My wonderful husband will single-parent for almost a week during this time.

We have our summer almost completely mapped out. On the horizon is a trip to Minnesota, and a trip for the two of us to Napa (HELP!! we are clueless on this one). This will be the first overnight away from the kids since Ella was 15 months old.

Also, we are also planning a major remodel of our house. We need more bathrooms and more space in general. We don't really have the monetary resources to do a major re-haul, but we can dream! We measured all the walls in the house and Chris is putting all the measurements into his computer on a program that can map it all out. It's so fun to take down walls, add walls, and just generally re-work the whole place. I love the entire process. I may not love it as much when reality hits and we realize that we can't do everything we'd like to.

That's about it. Nothing extremely exciting, but actually very fun for us. It's kind of like when you played "house" as a kid and everyone got along.

Type L

I’m not sure why, but I just don’t have the desire to do a lot besides what’s required. I’m hoping it’s because I give so much to my kids. Or that it’s because I have yet to find my “passion” – the one thing I want to do so much that it won’t feel like work. It transgresses into my journaling.

It’s not that I don’t have material – hell, my kids give me tons to write about, as well as my job (and the clientele I work with), my marriage (and all the planning we are doing for 2007) and of course my dad (and his dating life) – it’s just the lack of energy I feel about pretty much everything. The following little story kind of sums it up.

Two weeks ago I went to the gym to workout for the first time after our vacation at Christmas. I hadn’t worked out at all in about ten days, had eaten more than one should and felt unusually bloated. I got on the same elliptical machine I always use, but there was a guy on the one next to me. I usually go at 6:00 AM, when the place opens, so that I can work out before work, and enjoy the quietness of the place. He had headphones on, so I didn’t worry about making pleasantries, but he took them off and said “hi.” We chatted about his upcoming triathlon within about 30 seconds and that transitioned into his world travels and multiple graduate degrees. About 15 minutes after we started talking, I looked down to see that my heart rate was through the roof. I had subconsciously started “racing” this guy and my lack of fitness couldn’t keep up.

As we segued into talking about his mid life crisis – and I tried to throw in some of my counseling techniques – I asked him if he was a Type A personality. “Of course, I am,” he laughed. I responded, “Well, I’m not at all. I would be more of a Type L – for “lazy”.

I’m perfectly comfortable with this part of myself. Honestly. I wouldn’t want to be Type A. I like the idea of it, but know that it is a hard badge to wear. However, I’m not sure this Type L thing is all it’s cracked up to be. I think I may more realistically be something in the middle. I ebb and flow – energy wise. I just think this drag on my energy has lasted a little too long. The last time I think I felt more normal was about December 12, 2005. I’m due for an upswing. Hopefully all the plans we have for 2007 will come to fruition – I think they will help.

Photo Friday - Theme: Sister

I'm so glad that Harrison has you in his life.

I need a travel agent

We just got home, yet I’m already planning a trip to Florida in February to spend a week with my dad. I can’t find a plane ticket for under $435. Anyone know any tricks?

I think it's official - he's a teenager.

Dogs should sleep inside - IT'S COLD OUT, FOR GOD SAKE!

This is a picture I took last spring in Florida while visiting my dad. I blew it up, framed it and am giving it to him for Christmas.

The beautiful thing about insomnia is that it truly gives you that time to think that you rarely get in a busy, normal day. Since I believe I've only slept for and hour and a half, since I went to bed last night at 10:25, I've had lots of time to think about our upcoming trip to the midwest. I thought of a great gift idea for my friends back home, but don't have any time left to buy them, nor room to pack them. We are leaving after work today to fly to Minnesota. I've also been able to remember that I forgot to pack a gift for Ella that I left in the trunk of my car. Good thing it's large and heavy because we have six or seven suitcases fully packed at this point. I'm sure I can squeeze in a toy ironing board with an authentically heavy toy iron.

It also allows you to keep track of things. For instance, I now know that my furnace makes a clicking noise, followed by a whirring noise before revving up into full "blowing" mode. I also know that it comes on about 3 times an hour. I know that before 12:40 am, I coughed approximately once a minute. After that time, the number significantly reduced until about 4:30 am when it started to increase again.

Another gift that insomnia has given me is the gift of patience. Since last summer there has been a dog in our neighborhood that barks excessively at night. I used to think that it was our next door neighbor. I like my next door neighbor - and his dog - so I used to try to ignore it. One evening, though, the dog was barking so much I ran out in the back to track it down. I live in a neighborhood with tiny houses. There are literally about seven yards in very close proximity to me. It could've have been coming from anywhere. I narrowed it down to the neighbor behind my garage. The one with the tall, white plastic fence. I can't really see their house so I don't know, when I drive down their street, which house it is exactly. Over the last few months, now that my windows are closed and I am back at work desperately coveting any and all sleep I can get, I am still awakened by this dog a few times a week. Each week I get more and more upset about this dog, but have yet to do anything about it. Well, this past night, I was able to listen to this dog bark - on average - 40 minutes an hour. As I listened to him/her bark, and bark, and bark, I found myself completely amazed by the energy this animal exhibits, yet also wondered WHAT THE HELL his/her owners do to sleep through all the racket. The latest conclusion I came up with (around 4:30 am) was that they must work the night shift.

One thing I have definitely inherited from my mother is the ability to worry the night away. Any and all anxieties circumvent in my head at night. I have been pretty sick with a terrible chest cold/flu thing since last Friday. I did work yesterday, but wasn't able to do much of anything to prepare for this trip, or Christmas, over the weekend or Monday. All of our packing occurred last night, so I'm sure we have forgotten a million things. Thus the insomnia.

The silver lining in all of this is pretty silver. Our original plan was to drive to Minnesota. We would take two weeks so that the drive wouldn't become the vacation. Life happens and things change. My new job had a shorter holiday break which didn't allow me to take off for two weeks. Chris' job never coordinates with him taking off two weeks, so we decided to fly. However - I had already "purchased" a ticket with frequent flier miles. The ONLY seat available for me was in first class. When we went to purchase three more tickets, we were able to get them on the same flight. Unfortunately, my husband (who had to work really late, but is still slumbering quite peacefully right now) will be back in Coach with my two-can't-wait-for-Santa-to-come-so-we're-going-to-be-EXTREMELY-high-strung-and-full-of-energy-until-he-does-children.

Because I'm pretty sure I was Catholic in a past life, I'll probably switch with him half way.

Evil Gingerbread Boy

A year ago today

It's called an anniversary, but we're not having a party.

December 12, 2005
8:00 am
I didn’t sleep a lot last night. My mom was restless. Moaning and calling my name every couple hours. She hasn’t thrown up any bile since last night. My dad just called hospice and told them how bad things got yesterday. We thought she had an accident in bed, but it was a false alarm. We feel she needs a nurse to help us care for her. I’m so exhausted.
8:30 am
My dad just called again wondering why the social worker assigned to us didn’t know anything about my mom’s case. I tried to explain to him that she just started her day…that she probably needed to read the notes from the workers over the weekend. He is very upset.
9:30 am
Our social worker just showed up. She is very animated and loud, but strangely comforting. She and I just went in to greet my mom. She asked my mom if she would like to move into a hospital bed. She doesn’t. I spent another ten minutes explaining the benefits of keeping her head raised, etc. and she finally agreed. My back and arms are getting sore from running to her when she gags and holding her up.
12:30 pm
The social worker just left. There was much talk of hospice options, nurses, beds, pads, and funeral arrangements. She also told me that flying home tonight, and returning for the weekend, might not be a good idea if I want to be here when she dies. Our two to four week window has shrunk now to five days or so. The social worker mentioned that she saw a dramatic decline in my mom just in the time she had spent here.
2:00 pm
The hospital bed and wheel chair arrived. They set up the bed in the living room. Still waiting for the special bed pad that will make her more comfortable.
3:00 pm
The first nurse arrived. He’s male and seems nice enough. Doesn’t seem terribly able to gain any rapport with my mom, but he isn’t rude or anything.
4:30 pm
The bed pad arrived.
5:30 pm
My mom still moans and asks for me. I have been running in there a lot and don’t feel like the nurse is doing much. I started giving her pain pills and medication for her stomach yesterday. The nurse keeps asking me how much to give her. Isn’t that his job? I’m recording what we are doing and he is making a microwave dinner for himself. He set up camp at the dining room table and I believe he’s doing crosswords.
9:00 pm.
I just got off the phone with my good friend, Meg. She told me that she found out about her dad dying first thing when she woke up 28 years ago in December. I cried for her and for me. How awful. I feel very guilty for talking to Meg for over an hour. That nurse is not giving my mom the attention she needs.
11:00 pm
The new nurse just arrived. She is wonderful. Very grandma-like and very loving towards my mom. She is in the living room with a blanket over her lap. She has promised to check on my mom every half hour.

December 13, 2005
1:00 am
My mom stirred and made some noises. Enough to wake me, although I can barely sleep. Too much on my mind. I ran in to see her, but she didn’t open her eyes.
5:00 am
The nurse checked on my mom. She was sleeping comfortably with my dad at her side.
5:32 am
The nice nurse just woke me with these words, “Carol, your mom just passed.”

My nephew

My first photography "job." My brother and sister-in-law are going to use this photo I took for their Christmas cards. 

Santa's helper

 

Kristen

In high school, college, my twenties and early thirties, I was extremely social. I rarely did things alone. I had many friends, but never remember having to work at it. Life luckily just handed them to me and I had the time to maintain those friendships effortlessly.

Times change. You have kids, lose sleep and suddenly priorities change. I cherish my time alone. I don’t have a lot of girlfriends and it’s okay. Friends can be a lot of work. When I met Chris, I had a large social group. I moved from Minneapolis to Wisconsin and that group shrunk significantly. I stay in contact with one couple. When we moved to Utah, the few friends I had shrunk to even a smaller number. It's all been fine, though. Life with babies just consumed me.

Having more time at home now, I am suddenly aware that I am friend-deficient. Not that I really care, but it has just become more apparent. I have great neighbors – those friendships have come easily. In fact I cherish my Saturday night casual dinners with one couple in particular, but I think I’m finally ready. Ready to expand my friendship circle. Ready to call people and set up get-togethers. Ready to return phone calls (a problem I’ve had for the last few years). Ready to work at being a good friend.

I wait for Harry daily outside his school and watch the other mothers chit chatting. They all seem to know each other. I stand alone each day, leaning on the tree by the sidewalk, hoping that Harrison has remembered his lunchbox. Twenty five of 26 days, he forgets it in the bucket they store them in. Unlike in the past, I'm starting to feel a little left out.

However, I think I’ve met someone I might be interested in. She has a boy Harrison’s age, and a girl a little older than Ella, but in her class. We greet each other almost daily picking up our girls. We’ve had a few playdates with the kids so I feel like we’re on the right track. She’s lived in Utah a long time, but is originally from the Midwest and we seem to have a natural connection due to our upbringing.

She came over to pick up her daughter last evening and I offered her a cocktail. She excitedly accepted and ended up staying for a couple of hours. It was really easy, but I felt like I was on a first date. I told a lot of stories that started in the middle and had no ending. I apologized for a lot of things and felt a little self conscious about the flour all over my sweater (I was baking sugar cut-out cookies). She didn’t seem to mind and even helped with the dishes.

This may be the beginning of something wonderful.

One of the many reasons I think she is the smartest girl on earth

Since I was about 18, I have struggled with my body image. I'm never satisfied but try very hard not to verbalize these feelings around the kids. I'm doing enough to screw up their childhoods without realizing it - this, however, is something I can control.

The last few weeks have been extremely hard. I finally stopped Weight Watchers and have started gaining some weight back. It's a cycle that I seem to go through over and over. I am not ready to throw in the towel - I still exercise about 5 days a week, but the holidays are really making it hard to just eat Boca burgers and veggies.

Tonight, I was in my room putting away clean laundry when Ella joined me and pushed me back onto the bed. My shirt came up a bit and exposed my stomach. I slipped up and expressed some honesty by saying, "Oops - Mama is getting big." Without missing a beat, she responded, "Oh no, your shirt is getting smaller." I laughed and corrected her, "I don't think so, Ellie. I'm just too big." Emphatically and loudly she stated, "Mama! Your shirt is getting smaller."

Photo Friday

This week's theme: Stillness