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

Homework Assignment

Harrison was asked to write directions for making a healthy snack as a writing assignment. I don't have access to a scanner, but I will attempt to reproduce what he came up with. Warning: he tends to forget vowels at times and he reverses "b"s and "d"s a lot.

Name: Harry

Snack: Smoothie

Ingredients: IcE Yogurt StroBarYs Bnanas ornge juice

Steps to Make:

First: You Put ice in the Blenber

Next: You Put StroBarys in the Blenber

Then: You Put Bnanas in the Blenber

Then: You Put onge juic in thE Blenber

Then: You Put Yogurt in the Blenber

Last: You Mix it all up.

Next Friday, I will be helping Harry make smoothies for his "Show and Teach" demonstration. First graders are apparently too old for "Show and Tell" where we just had to ship Baby Seal to school. Now Harrison has to demonstrate something for his class. "We will need 22 cups, Mom,"...and a blender, a cooler full of fruit, ice and yogurt and patience.

Photo Friday

Theme: Immature

We all want to be carried sometimes.

I'm sure "bedraggled" is sexy somewhere.

The kids and I had the day off today. We kept busy preparing for Thanksgiving. Harrison helped by building a Lego underwater ship thingy for pretty much the entire day. He surfaced from the basement occasionally to use the bathroom or pick up food I left for him at the top of the stairs. Ella contributed by talking continuously the ENTIRE day. If she stopped to breathe, or rest in any way, her body would continue for her, nonverbally, by wrapping one of its limbs around me or by trying to climb into my lap – even if I was standing.

We all converged for one big Costco and grocery store run. Costco, on this late Wednesday morning, was as crowded as any Saturday afternoon. We were there for our staples, but I felt compelled to buy rolls for tomorrow. How could I pass on THIRTY SIX fresh baked rolls for $3.79. I’ll be happy if we eat 15 of them! The kids were well-behaved even though the sample tables were just in the process of being set up. Usually the samples are the only thing I can use for bribes while we’re there. I was worried about going to the grocery store right afterwards, but they were great. Harry is reading now and can really help me. We got everything we needed but the green beans. “We’re out,” was the comment I received from the produce guy. That means one more trip tomorrow morning with all the other last minute shoppers.

After lunch I made a hand-me-down recipe from my grandmother – Rotkraut (a sweet and sour red cabbage). I normally would have called my mom for the recipe (as I never wrote it down) and was starting to freak out when my dad didn’t have it. These are some of the hardest times for me about my mom’s death. When I can’t talk to her and she has some information that I’m sure no one else has. It’s the most exasperating, frustrating and sad feeling I’ve ever felt. I emailed my cousin to see if she had it and she did. Her mom is my mom’s only sibling and we are quite sure that her recipe is the original. It had all the markings of one of my Oma’s recipes – not too many measurements and incomplete instructions. Anyway I made it and the smells that I created were so familiar it was eerie. For a few moments I felt like I was continuing a legacy – as hokey as that may sound.

Cleaning the mess in the kitchen for the third time today, I then proceeded to bake a cake. We figured out that it was Harrison’s half birthday tomorrow and he never forgot it. “I want a white cake, with white frosting, and NO turkey. I’ll eat bratwurst.” So I succumbed and baked him a white cake with white frosting. And being a German, with a history of Wisconsin residency, I’m sure we can find a brat in the freezer to bring along tomorrow.

Tomorrow we are baking two pies, making “special” green beans with $5.69 worth of pine nuts and cooked carrots. The dinner is being hosted by Chris’ Mormon brother and wife. They are making the turkey and stuffing. His other brother and wife are bringing mashed potatoes, but their son is violently ill with stomach flu so I don’t know if the potatoes will make it. That would be such a bummer as I was already pretty upset about not having wine with dinner and coffee with my pie.

Chris arrived home not a minute too soon tonight. He spent his day in Park City, and apparently the stylish tourists are arriving in droves for the long holiday weekend. “You should have seen them all dressed up at 8 in the morning!” About ten minutes later he commented to me, lovingly I’m sure, “You really look like a bedraggled stay-at-home-mommy tonight.” I flipped him off.

Flying

 

My day off

My work week is already over and it’s only Thursday. I am volunteering at Ella’s school tomorrow. They need someone to take pictures of their new building, and I’ll be helping with the Thanksgiving feast that Ella’s class is serving. There will be Pilgrim hats and lots of songs about turkeys.

After the feast and program, Ella will go down for her “quiet time” and I’ll run over to pick up Harrison - Fridays are short days for him. We will also pick up a new friend of his. Harry’s having a play date and he’s really excited. While the boys are playing, I’ll do laundry, gather recipes for Thanksgiving, and try to organize the huge pile of school papers and mail on my desk. I even found a few Thanksgiving-themed word searches for the boys to do if they need some structure to their afternoon.

Tomorrow has quickly become exactly the kind of day that I hoped to have when I quit my full time job. I have mixed emotions, though. I felt it when I was arranging the playdate tonight. The mother works full time and as I was talking to her I found myself explaining my work schedule. “I have always worked full time….I just started part time….there’s nothing wrong with parents that work.” I just kept talking and talking. After I got the kids to bed, I watched the end of Grey’s Anatomy. One of the show’s themes was about working moms and the internal struggle.

I’m happy with my new schedule. I love that I get to be a much bigger part of my kids’ lives, but I have this guilt – as if I’m letting Gloria Steinem down.

Ellastyle - Vail

"Jammie baby" has been a permanent fixture the last few months. She was named after the pajama attire she came with at purchase. The coat, Miss Ella is wearing this season, is the find of the year. I was looking for a white puffy shirt (ala Seinfeld) for Harry to wear for Halloween as a pirate, at D.I. (our Goodwill-type store) when I found this coat for FOUR DOLLARS. The mittens were on clearance last year at Shopko for $1.50.

I have to get creative now that we're living on half of my old salary. 

Some pictures from Colorado

A cool play area in Vail Village

Lake Dillon, Silverthorne (above)
(I think I want to move again!)

Dressed for the big wedding. (below)
(Ella was thoroughly enthralled with the wedding preparations. Harrison - not so much.)

 

My kids - the bullies

I hate to admit the things that happened today, but this is supposed to be a record of my kids' lives...I need to remember the bad with the good.

Harrison is my more challenging child. His behaviors are straight forward and tangible. For example, today he socked a boy in the nose so hard that it bled. It was an accident. It usually is, but he still hurt someone. He was egging on two boys who were wrestling at recess. As the play fighting escalated, Harry apparently got excited and joined in by jumping on the two. He inadvertantly hit one of them. His teacher literally came chasing after me on the school lawn to tell me. She was kind about it. She started by telling me that his behavior in class was perfect today before dumping the disaster at recess on me. I was proud and totally frustrated all in a matter of 15 seconds.

As I spent the next few minutes with Harrison alone, before picking up Ella, I tried to understand what had happened. Once again, I was reminded of the definition of impulsivity. There is no reason - it just happens for Harry. He does things without thought and then regrets the consequences. After we "talked", a friend of ours approached and offered to take Harrison home for a playdate for the next hour. He was thrilled. I was, too, as I worry that his impulsivity will begin to cause him to lose friends.

I picked up Ella, and her friend, for a pre-planned playdate. They were adorable - thrilled to be together. Soon after we got home, a neighbor came over with her younger daughter. I assumed that adding a third girl to the mix would be easy. I assumed that my daughter would welcome this girl into their game of "house" and I would be able to chat with my friend for a half hour or so. I was wrong. Immediately Ella started communicating negative statements about this new girl joining their game. She was rude and non-inclusive. I was mortified. I pulled Ella aside a few times to talk to her about her uncharacteristic behavior. This just made things worse. The
negativity oozing out of Ella continued for about ten minutes. At this point, my neighbor and her daughter left. I told Ella how upset I was, but couldn't properly handle the problem due to the first friend's presence.

Two terrible scenarios in one day. Two scenarios that I never expected to have to deal with. I truly do not know which one bothers me more. I certainly don't want my son to be someone who hits - but he claims it was an accident. I can't get over the "mean girl" that took over my daughter's body right before my very eyes - but did I possibly set up a 4 year old with something that she wasn't able to handle?

I am not feeling overwhelmed, but I do wonder why it has to be so eventful and difficult. I really hope the weekend brings some relief.

Second verse, same as the first

Thank you for all the support about not liking my first day on the new job. I know it will get better, but I don't believe it yet.

I can't pinpoint what I don't like about it - probably just that it is work. Thinking about the extra hours at home was all I focused on...I never really thought that it would be work. It's just shorter amounts of work - that I don't really love right now.

I really miss the comfort of my old job. My friends and the students especially. I had a month-long goodbye. They capped it off with an all-school Halloween party in my honor. My last day was full of hugs and last minute instructions. I needed to tell everyone what to do after I left. I had a lot to "to-do"s left.

My students are in good hands, but they do seem to miss me. I've received a few emails and they even talked me into a MySpace account. I now have a very generic page (which I have no idea how to navigate) and four new friends (all former students). It's pretty funny.

I know that I will make new friends. Many of the people I've met are great. They are all willing to help and answer all my questions. The students are adorable. They are so pliable and accepting - willing to accept me as the new counselor. As long as I continue to pass out stickers and "Gold slips" (rewards for good behavior), I'm in.

Today would have been better than Thursday, but I am sick. Fever, stomach junk and headache. I was finally able to digest some ibuprofen about an hour ago and feel better than I have in over 10 hours. It was so embarrassing to be sick on my second day. I already have a sub plan ready in case I can't go in tomorrow.

Three more days and then we're off to a wedding in Denver. I have so much more time to do last-minute errands and prepare/pack for this road trip. The shorter hours are the reason behind this job change. It's definitely better for our family. I just need to make it better for me.

First day

I didn't like it. Gawd!!!! Now what?

Bittersweet

Today was my last day of work. Tomorrow I start my new job.

Last week I received two negative phone calls from Harrison's school about his behavior. Today I only got a note in his planner about his naughtiness.

Last week I couldn't wait to get out of my work environment. Today I had a hard time leaving.

Last night I had a personal laptop full of pictures, documents and bookmarks. Today I turned that laptop in and am currently borrowing my husband's.

Today I am a high school counselor. Tomorrow I become an elementary school counselor.

Today I left for work before the kids were even dressed. I picked them up from after-care programs. Tomorrow I will walk Harry to school and take Ella myself. After their school days are complete, I will pick them up. NO AFTERCARE!

Today I received presents and wonderful notes. I hugged about 30 people and teared up a few times. Tomorrow I will walk into a strange new building to work with people I barely know or have never met.

Today I'm a full-time working mom. Tomorrow I'm not.

Punkin