Really good zoo visits of late

I have determined for myself the best way to take my kids to the zoo, and it boils down to laying out to them what we will do before we ever pull out of the garage.  I wish I would remember to do this for everything we do in our lives, but that is asking a lot of my addled brain.

Today the "plan" was to visit the splash park, see the new sea lion & seal exhibit and get a treat of some sort.  I packed our lunch to reduce expenses and had everyone in their swimsuits under their clothes to avoid the dreaded fiasco that is changing clothes in the teeny-tiny bathrooms by the splash park.

And the "plan" was explained when everyone was buckled in.  M was the only one to object.....ha-ha, like he has a say to begin with.

The great thing about having this plan is that I can always refer back to it when the kids get a notion to do something else.  "Um, remember we're doing X, Y and Z, not Q, R or S."  This doesn't mean the kids don't balk, but they don't balk as long or as loud.

And I find that when we stick to the plan, if we are able to throw in something extra and unexpected, I shine like a rock-star.  We managed to squeeze in 3 extras since the kids only stayed at the splash park a grand total of 10 minutes.  (Note to self:  Quit taking them to splash park.  A lot of wasted preparation and sunscreen application.)

The first extra was seeing the lorikeet exhibit.  I splurged and bought 2 cups of nectar (1 oz is like $2), but it was so worth is because G got to hold the cup with me and see a bird drink it up close.....6 inches from G's face.  The bird looked right at G and went, "TWEET!"  G thought this was hilarious!!  And a bird landed on N's head for the very first time.

Our second extra was when I splurged again and bought the kids Dippin Dots instead of the normal soft-serve cones.

And all this splurging only set me back $10, which is nada for 3+ hours of fun at the zoo.

Finally, the third extra was playing on the playground.

And the best thing of all is that after a morning like this, the kids are sufficiently tired that they let me be so I can blog about what a good time was had by all.

Bleh

I feel like I want to write something, but I'm not having any super insightful revelations, and so I will just write about my (and our) goings-on and see what happens.

THE WEEK AHEAD:

This week is chock full of activities, none of which include cleaning.  Tomorrow I'm taking the kids to the library.  I just put a bunch of goodies on reserve after having perused Reading Rockets' 2010 Summer Reading guide.  Getting new reads from the library is almost as good as the first scoop from a new jar of peanut butter or a haircut.

Tuesday is playgroup, which will be at the zoo or my house, depending on the weather.  I hope the weather is nice so we can preview the new Seal & Sea Lion exhibit that has just been completed at the zoo.

Wednesday is a baby shower for a MOMS Club friend, so the kids will be able to play and I will be able to enjoy my mommy friends.

Thursday is exercise class in the a.m., and then bookclub in the p.m.

And Friday will be swimming at Nana & Pa's neighborhood pool if the weather cooperates.

THE KIDS:

M is a pincher.  Whenever I'm nursing him he takes his hand and pinches the underside of my arm, which hurts like hades.

These are some of my favorite things that G says:
Dat be fun = in response to me saying we are going to go somewhere.
Cah I go?= in response to me saying we are going to go somewhere.
Dat nice= in response to me saying we are going to go somewhere.
Mommy, you need gas? = whenever we pass by a Kroger gas station.
Mommy, can we get ice ceem? = whenever we pass by our local Homemade Pie & Ice Cream Kitchen.

He and N are now sitting next to each other in the very back of the minivan.  There are few things cuter than G trying to sing along to Ludacris' rap in Justin Bieber's "Baby."  All G can manage to get out are the last words usually.  Cazy (his version of crazy).....starstruck.....Starbucks.

As we were leaving our neighborhood, G mentioned that there was a forklift over with the other diggers.  N asked what a forklift looked like.  D and I tried to explain it to her.  She said, "Oh, I get it," and then proceeded to explain to us that she knew what it looked like.  She said something about it having "four cliffs......get it....forklift."  Riiiiiiiight.

MY HAIR:
I decided to do something different with my hair yesterday.  I cannot wear my hair long.  It took me a long time to finally submit to the fact that I do not look good with anything other than short hair.  It's my lot in life.  I have accepted it.  But I had been wearing a "longer" short cut, and now it is a "shorter" short cut.  I always worry that I am going to look too "butch," especially since I don't wear makeup, earrings, high heels or anything typically feminine.  With nursing, I've got more boobage....but still.  So I'm still uncertain what I think of this new style.  If nothing else it will make me appreciate the older style more whenever I go back to it.

Ok, I've bored myself to death now.  I'm going to go read.

A stiff pr*ck has no conscience--and neither do many businesses

This is gonna be a long one.  Get some popcorn, a drink and settle in friends.

In 2003, a few months before N was born, D and I purchased a Simmons Mocha Cambridge crib that converts into a daybed and full-size bed.  In 2007, when I was pregnant with G, D and I thought we'd better go ahead and purchase whatever accessories we needed in order to one day make the crib full-sized. We were fearful that at some point whatever we needed would be discontinued and we would be stuck.  And so I called Babies R Us in May 2007 and told them I needed to order whatever parts would turn the crib into a full-size bed.  I gave them the model number and style of the crib via phone.  We picked up the parts, paid $93.99 and promptly stuck the box in N's closet for that day in the future when we would need them.   

That future day was Sunday.  

You see, since we moved N and G into a shared room in February of this year, D and I have been reading to them at night in N's twin bed (which was my bed when I was a kid).  While perfect for one 6-year-old, it is a virtual can of sardines with a 6-year-old, toddler and parent trying to turn pages.  And so we decided to purchase a full-size mattress for N and convert G's crib (which was N's crib) into a bed.  On Saturday afternoon, I ordered a mattress which was to be delivered yesterday.  

On Sunday night, D got out the box and discovered that the person at Babies R Us had ordered us the WRONG PARTS.  

Just effin great.  

It's been 3 years since we purchased it, and we have no receipt.  

So I called Babies R Us, explained the situation, and asked what we needed that their dumbass associated didn't sell us to turn the crib into a full-size bed.  

Associate C said no returns after 90 days, which is standard.  After 3 years, and with no receipt, I knew we were plum out of luck.  She told me to call Simmons to find out for sure what rails we needed.

Amazingly, I was able to locate the receipt in a binder late in the night on Sunday.

Even with the receipt, though, I figured it was a long-shot to get the wrong rails returned.  Ya know, cause it's been 3 years and all.  Even though Babies R Us was in the wrong.  Completely.  

And so Monday morning, I called Simmons, explained the situation to the representative, and asked if I could order the correct rails from them.  Because of the 90 day return limit, which Associate C at Babies R Us had mentioned, and my concern that Babies R Us would order the wrong thing again, I went ahead and ordered the rails I need from Simmons.  By credit card.  Monday morning, around 8:30.  

I asked Representative L if there were other Simmons beds that would work with the wrong rails I have.  I figure I've got 3 kids, I need 3 beds, and I'd already spent $93.99 on rails in 2007.  She told me 2 styles.  One was on costco.com, but you had to purchase 2 other pieces of furniture with the crib.  Fail.  And the other style is sold somewhere across the country at a store I've never heard of.    

So I called Babies R Us and spoke to Manager M to see if they carried either of these cribs.  My local Babies R Us no longer carries Simmons beds.  After much complaining by me, Manager M says that if I order the correct bed rails from them, they will take back the wrong rails and that they want to "make it right." (Which as far as I'm concerned means you take back the wrong rails without question since ya'll fucked up and give me a goddam in-store credit for the entire $93.99 NO QUESTIONS ASKED).  

But, again, I am leery of ordering from them, since they screwed up initially.  Manager M emails someone who emails someone to ensure that the accessories they can order are, indeed, the right ones.  

Today I found out that the bed rails they can order are the right ones (or so they say), and so I call Simmons to cancel my order.  I somehow managed to get Representative L on the phone again.  Yesterday, some 30 hours previously, she had told me it would take 2-3 weeks to get the rails.  When I have her on the phone today, she says my credit card has already been charged, the rails are at the warehouse and I cannot cancel my order.  

To which I say, "BULLSHIT!!"

I then explain to her that she never said this was a final sale, no returns, cannot cancel orders when I spoke with her yesterday.  (I mean, even Shutterfly gives you a window of opportunity to cancel photo books that you flippin create yourself.)  And if she won't cancel the order and credit my card now, I will dispute the charge with my credit card company.  And that I'd like to speak to her supervisor.  

So I am transferred to Supervisor T, who tells me the order is at the warehouse, and it cannot be canceled.  Or if she does cancel the order there is a $50 charge because Simmons pays a fee to swipe credit cards.  And then she asks, "Well did you contact Babies R Us before you called and ordered the rails from us?," and "Did Babies R Us offer to credit you for the rails?"

And at this point, my head exploded, followed closely by my tongue.  Because I have fucking HAD IT with these 2 companies fucking with me.  I proceeded to tell Supervisor T the entire story from the get-go.  That Babies R Us had been giving me the run-around and now Simmons was screwing with me too.  

During my monologue, Supervisor T would come in and out, like she was on her cell phone in a tunnel underwater.  Which made me think she wasn't hearing a word I was saying.  Which pissed me off even more.  I finally said, "ARE YOU THERE?  ARE YOU LISTENING TO ME BECAUSE YOU KEEP GOING IN AND OUT?"  

It was at this point, Supervisor T said she would credit my card and cancel the order.  And so I wrote down everything and said it back to her like she was from Mars and had very little understanding of English---"Today's date is June 22nd and you will credit my card for $80 for the canceled order."  She then said, "I'll credit it today but I don't know when it will post."  To which I said, "I will check my credit card balance online, and if it hasn't credited in a month, I will be calling back to speak directly with you, do you understand?"  

Anyone need some vodka now because I sure did after all this crap.

So here is the thing.  Despite what Rand Paul and other libertarians think. businesses need to be held accountable because they are not ethical entities.  People can be ethical.  Businesses cannot.  They have no conscience.  

And it makes me think I am kinda stupid for attempting to be "prepared" by purchasing items well in advance of when I will need them.  

That's what I get for trying to think ahead.  

When it rains money, it pours money

When we were having our new floors installed in the spring, I distinctly remember worrying about one of the kids needing surgery and whether we should forego a new floor to ensure we had enough saved.  

Tomorrow is the first of this year's surgeries:  G is having the ear tube that fell out but is now stuck in another part of his eardrum removed in the morning.  With our FSA account, we should have enough to cover it without having to dip into other savings accounts.  (I feel quite certain one of the other two will require something---tonsillectomy for N or ear tubes for M.....or perhaps both).  

However, we've been having to dip into savings for all sorts of other things that have popped up.  Like ants taking over our living room, requiring an exterminator to the tune of $175.  

And the dead car battery on the morning of our trip last week.  The van was packed, the kids were buckled in.  I went to start it up in order to back out of the garage so my MIL could park her car in it while we were gone.  No juice.  D had to jump it twice to get it to Valvoline for a brand-spanding new battery.  To the tune of $105.  

And then we needed to get N a full-size mattress since her twin is too cramped when we try to read to her and G at bedtime.  The crib she slept in as a baby converts to a full-size, and we had long ago purchased the accessories/rails to convert it.  Of course, last night when D tried to put the frame together we discovered that Babies R Us sold us the WRONG RAILS, so the convertible crib is useless.  Which meant I had to call the company that makes the crib to purchase the correct rails, to the tune of $80.  And we have to wait 2-3 weeks for them to be delivered.  And her mattresses were delivered today.

(And believe me, I've already spoken to a manager at Babies R Us so see about some kind of compensation for my troubles.)

I will be so glad when this money hemorrhage ends.  

Answer to anxiety question

I don't know what the "proper" way to address reader comments is, but I'll do it as a post because someone who doesn't read the comments might actually benefit from a question/answer discussion.

The question:
Do you ever feel disconnected from your kids (as a result of anxiety)? Like you do what you're supposed to do and you love them more than life but you just emotionally can't feel it?


My Answer:  
I definitely felt the disconnect when I was in the throes of anxiety and depression (I had a touch of depression when my anxiety was full-blown).  I would smile at N, who was a baby at the time, and try to "act" normally, but I certainly wasn't feeling happy or content or "with it" most of the time.  Tending to basic needs, both mine and hers, was a struggle.  I didn't even feel guilt over feeling disconnected because I felt so disconnected (if this makes any sense at all).  The guilt came later, and still comes, even though we are 5+ years beyond that place.  


I know a lot of my "mommy" issues, especially when N was a baby, stem from completely unrealistic ideas of what a parent, particularly a mother, is supposed to feel.  If I had any negative feelings or disconnected feelings, I felt like the worst mom on the planet, like I violated some code of mommydom.  


My anxiety and OCD are really well managed with my medication at this time, so I usually don't feel disconnected from the kids.  What I do feel on a regular basis is anger.  My brain is already fairly taxed as a result of the anxiety/OCD so it doesn't handle additional stressors too well, and having young kids is a constant stressor.  I don't know that my anger is any more extreme than any other mom of young kids, but I think I worry about it more than other moms because of my mood issues.  


Anger scares me a lot because it can rapidly go out of control.  And with young kids in my care, I worry that I could hurt them in a fit of anger.  Chances are it wouldn't happen because I am aware of my feelings given my history.  But that doesn't stop me from being scared of angry feelings I have. 


I try to remember a piece of advice my financial advisor gave me about childrearing:  Parenting children is like saving money in an account.  You make deposits of feel-good moments, special hugs, kisses, saying "I love you," special activities together.  Then when you have these disconnected times or angry outbursts or whatever, you have plenty of good things "saved" so the account isn't depleted.  Your child still has oodles of happy memories and thoughts about how he/she is parented that those episodes of unhappy/unpleasant don't wipe everything else away.  

Toddler talk

G has been on a roll lately.  Saying the cutest things.  I am forever amazed at what toddlers notice and then say about how they observe life.  It makes me happy to know I have another opportunity with M to experience the fun that is toddler-speak.

1. Prior to our small trip earlier in the week, I took the kids to Paul's Fruit Market.  When we got there, G walked in and said, "Where's Pa?"  (which is what the kids call my dad).

2. On our trip, D opted to wear white shirts in a (futile) effort to stay cool.  When G saw his daddy in one of his white shirts, G asked, "Daddy, you gon mow?"  (as in the grass since D usually wears white shirts to stay cool while mowing).

3. G enjoyed a kiddie canoe ride on our trip.  After we had moved onto other rides, he kept saying, "Boat in da pool."  When we happened upon the canoe ride again, he made a beeline to the attendant, darting around other amusement park goers and shocking us with his lack of fear.

4. He and N share a mutual love of Scooby Doo, which G calls "Scooby Dee Doo."

How people change

When D and I prepared to marry, we didn't know if we wanted any kids at all.  If we had any kids, we'd probably have one.  We knew with complete certainty that we didn't want to have kids for 5 years.  

On September 11, 2001, we had been married almost 4 years, and it was after the attacks that we began discussing starting a family.  Like a lot of people, that event made us look at our priorities a little differently.  Made us wonder what we might be missing in our lives.  

Fast forward to Feb 2004---we became parents.  Within a couple weeks of N's birth, I felt I wanted to have 3 kids.  I was just so, so in love with N.  I had a big helping of undiagnosed anxiety that I was dealing with, but I was simply over the moon.  D loved N, but a new baby didn't jive too well with 6+ years of being able to game without interruption.  I remember him saying to me a few weeks after she was born, "I'm just not happy."  

I was postpartum and newly unemployed (since I had decided to become a stay-at-home mom), AND did I mention the undiagnosed anxiety?  So when he said this, I heard, "I don't want to be a dad, and I think I may leave you."  I realize now he was just having a difficult adjusting to having a new baby in our lives.  

Because of my mood issues, I just wasn't up for having another child for a long time.  It was in the late summer of 2006 when I felt ready.  D had to have emergency surgery for an infected gallbladder, and this event was like a very small September 11th again---it forced me to examine our lives, our priorities.  And I wanted another baby.

D would have been perfectly content to just have N as our only child, I think, but he went along with having a second child.  And there were some adjustment issues after G's birth, but I was by that time, fully medicated, post-therapy, and better prepared for what life with a child was like.

And then there was surprise M in 2009.  

Sometimes when I think back on all this, and I wonder whether I always really, really, really wanted kids but my anxiety was so overwhelming it was just easier to act like I didn't?   I wonder whether D would have been happier if we'd never had kids or just stuck with the one?  I wonder if D and I met now instead of in our twenties would be get together, since I feel fairly certain I would be eager to have a family and he probably would be sure he didn't?  

The type of parent you need and the type of parent you get

In my experience, having my first child brought up all sorts of feelings about parenting and how I was parented that I didn't know were there, bubbling under the surface, affecting how I saw myself as a person and as a mother.  Or maybe I did know they were there, but I just didn't know what to do with them.  Becoming a parent required that I deal with these unsettled feelings.  


I always felt like my dad didn't love me, and it took me until I was in my thirties, after I'd had my daughter and was in therapy, to realize a lot of things about how my dad parented.  


From what I understand, my dad's dad was kind of an asshole.  He drank to excess, would often spend most of his paycheck on himself or his drinks rather than on food for his family, and had been known to beat his wife in front of his sons.  


My dad, having witnessed this, became the type of man who's main goal in life was to not be anything like his father.  My dad worked very hard to provide for his family.  He never has more than 2 alcoholic drinks, ever.  And he never laid a hand on his wife.  For my dad, being predictable, responsible, financially stable and decent meant he was a good dad.  And he was.  And is.  


But, perhaps because of the family in which he grew up, my dad has never been terribly affectionate.  I don't remember my dad regularly telling me he loved me until I married.  Or talking about feelings, his or anyone else's.  Or giving me hugs very often.  


And maybe because I was such an overly sensitive kid, I needed more affection, more communication, than what my dad was able to give.  I probably could have used some therapy when I was young, but back in my day therapy was only for kids who set their houses on fire and other obviously troubled behavior. 


It was as an adult, as a mother to a baby daughter, that I understood with the help of my therapist, that my dad had his own issues that affected how he was as a father.  His own personality.  His own anxieties.  And none of this had anything at all to do with me.  It wasn't my fault.  I didn't do anything wrong.  It's just the way my dad is.  


And that made me feel tremendously better as I reflected on my childhood relationship with my father.


But here's the thing, I want D to be the type of father to our kids that my dad wasn't to me.  It's like I'm trying to overcompensate for what I felt I didn't get from my dad as a kid.  I want D to be super affectionate and super involved, and if I'm really honest with myself, super man.  The perfect dad.  


And I know that is unfair.  
Because D is himself, not my dad.  And our kids are not me.  They won't have the same personalities, needs, desires or hang-ups that I did (and still do).


So even though I've acknowledged my father/child issues and accepted them, I don't know that you ever really, totally let go.  

Same terrain, every day

I have kept journals/diaries since I was 10 years old and on the rare occasions when I've read through them I am reminded that a person doesn't really change very much over the course of a lifetime (or 30+ years), even though we all like to think we do.  We are who we are from birth.  

My moods were all over the map when I was 10, I was uber-self-reflective and obsessive.  And here we are in 2010---same thing.  Sure I'm a little wiser.  A lot more experienced.  But basically the same.  

I can slice this bread a thousand ways, but it is still bread.  

And being a mom of young children only adds a few sesame seeds to the loaf, changes the flavor up slightly, but it is still bread that I'm sawing with my serrated knife. 

I vent about the same darn issues as a mom.  Being a slave to my little ones' needs. Feeling like I do the brunt of the work.  Needing some moments of adult-time or silence to help me get through the day.  

Yesterday was especially tiring, if for no other reason than the 98% humidity, which made following G's wanderings and packing around 22 lbs of M that much harder.  Then there were the moments when all 3 of the kids wanted something from me at the exact.same.time (they plan this, ya know).  

And I thought how nice it would be to sit in the Serengeti with nothing but natural silence.  

I was able to get out last night to visit with some mom friends, drink a glass of wine and shop unencumbered at Target.  A few hours of not being needed.

Adding little M to my family stew has made it essential that I get "taking care of mommy-time" and protect it with a vengeance.   

Blog pensieve

I thought I was done blogging, but in the shower I thought of things I needed to get out of my brain before I attempt sleep.

1. I am a great mom because I took the kids to the zoo today despite feeling under the weather.  I didn't go to my exercise class (it kicks my butt when I feel 100%, so there was no way I'd be up for at when feeling 60%), but I knew I'd have to do something with the kids.  N and G were bouncing off the walls by 8:45.

I had 2 options:  I could stay at home and get pissed because the kids wouldn't allow me to just drex around.  They'd be wanting me to play or get them snacks or they'd just fight with each other.  OR I could take them to the zoo, run them out, and be distracted from my darn sinuses.  I chose option 2.  

2. At the zoo, I used my new Ergo carrier.  I bit the bullet and shelled out $100 for it the other day (which is crazy), but today proved just how stinking AWESOME that thing is.  I was able to easily nurse M while walking around carrying him on the front AND later on when M was in the stroller, I carried G in it on my back on our way out of the zoo when he was absolutely bushed from running all over creation.  I am so getting my money's worth out of this puppy.  And it goes to 40 lbs!!!!

3. G leaned on me the other day while he and I were on the couch and said, "I yuv you too and it's my turn."  You know, I love my children equally yet differently and each has a special place in my heart, but my little middle is especially special.  

4. Justin Bieber is coming to town in November, and I am debating whether to take N.  It seems stupid to take a 6-year-old to a concert, but she likes his music, and I know a lot of parents have taken their kids to see Miley Cyrus or Jonas Brothers.  Definitely won't take her if it's a school night.  And I haven't checked the calendar.  Shit, I'm having a hard time just keeping on top of today, let alone November.   What would you do????

Ok, brain dump done.  

Growling

I have been thinking of mother lionesses lately, specifically the way they will growl and take a swat at their own cubs whenever the cubs are being particularly annoying.  The feline version of, "I brought you into this world, and I can take you out of it."

This week hasn't been so great.  There was the unexpected Monday, followed on Tuesday with me waking up with the adult-version of M's croup from last week.  Feeling tired, with my head all stuffy and my Brenda Vaccaro voice.  And no sick days to take.

Yesterday was day-long rain, which we desperately needed but which makes the kids go a little bonkers.  In the afternoon, N was being a complete shit, so I made her take a nap.  Her mood was MUCH improved the rest of the day, but then she didn't want to go to sleep until 10:00.

And she was up this morning at 6:30, asking me for help, getting snippy when I refused and then proceeding to wake up G for which I could have totally kicked her in the ass.  Did I mention I am feeling yucky?  And I'm already sleep-deprived from night-nursing?  Can you guess who my most unfavorite daughter was this morning at 6:30?

AND then today, just like Monday afternoon, I spend 2+ hours on the phone with surgery schedulers, billing department workers, and insurance customer service representatives, trying to figure out which hospital/surgery center we are in network at and how much of G's college fund will have to pay for this ear-tube surgery.  Seriously, whom do I have to fuck to get a straight answer about what our benefits are and which doctors are in network????

Add to this my latent anxiety that N or G will get sick before we head out next week for a short family trip.

Hence my internal lioness, ready to rip the hide of just about anyone who dares mess with me.

A day of unexpecteds

Today wasn't a bad day, really.  Very busy.  Full of unexpecteds which, for me, is emotionally draining.

G had his 6-month ear-tube check.  I thought, "We'll go in, the ENT will have a look-see, and then we'll be on our merry way."  This is pretty much what happened, but I had surgery scheduling in my lap for the afternoon.

It turns out that one of G's tubes has come out of the eardrum but hasn't fallen out of his ear because it is apparently imbedded in another part of his eardrum.  The doctor wants to get it out so it doesn't become infected or anything weird.  And since it is embedded, to try to remove it in the office would be painful for G.

G still has a hole in the eardrum from the tube, but we are just going to leave it alone for now.  The concern is that if we patch the hole now and in 3-6 months he begins having recurrent ear infections (which I think would happen), we'd be looking at another surgery right on top of this one.  We may still be looking at a surgery to close the hole eventually, but not until he's 5 or 6.

For the moment, the other tube is fine, but the doctor may decide to replace it once he's in there and can see it better.

Last week M had croup and is still not acting right, so I asked the ENT if he'd check his ears as well.  I hated to make a special trip to the clinic for nothing.  But both of M's ears are infected, so I had to make an afternoon appointment to get some antibiotics for him.

Bookend doctor visits with 3 kids will wear a girl out.
Toss in between those some shopping to buy an Ergo carrier and groceries.
A recipe for catatonia by 8 pm.

NOW I'm sympathetic (and other things I should qualify)

D has been having some trouble since his snip-snip over a month ago.  Discomfort that won't go away, so he saw the doctor who performed the surgery this week.  He has been instructed to take lots of NSAIDs for the next two weeks.  If the discomfort hasn't cleared in that time, he is to return to the office.  The problem could be a granuloma or scar tissue, requiring more surgery.  Ack!!!!

Having to deal with the infection in my c-section scar this last go-round, which required 2 antibiotics, lancing the sight and lots of discomfort, makes me very sympathetic to what D is having to deal with.  After surgery, you just want to heal up and move on.  Seems that isn't in our family's cards for some reason.

After reflecting on my last blog about my lack of summer plans, it occurred to me that I do, to some extent, have some plans, although they are very loosey-goosey.

I purchased 2 workbooks for N to work on every day during her time off.  I will be sending her to 3-4 half-day camp activities.  And I intend to have take her to some children's programs at our nearby library in July.  On those occasions when the boys nap at the same time, I am having her read to me in order to earn rewards at Barnes & Noble and 1/2 Price Books for their summer reading series.

Based on how these last 3 days have gone, I think the summer will be alright.  The weekends and days off from school here and there are always chaotic and make me worry that summer will be too.  But it is a long enough stretch of time to get into a new routine.

The summer shouldas

Alas, it is the start of summer break from school so in addition to tending to the littles, I am playing concierge to the 6-year-old in an attempt to keep her occupied.  So that she doesn't drive me to drink before 10:00 a.m.


I have been reading some of my mom friends' blogs, and they are so "on it" in terms of their summer scheduling and planning.  Like every day of the week has a theme, like Field-Trip Fridays.  And they have arts & craft activities planned for their children.  And chores for them to do every day.  

And even though this planning sounds REALLY appealing to me, as I am hyper-organized in most every respect, I just can't stomach the idea of being this organized in terms of my stay-at-home routine.  Or lack of routine.

Whenever I read one of their posts, I think, "I should really try to do (whatever it is my friends have been doing.)"  But then I am hit with a wave of anxiety and stress at the prospect of planning much of anything.

I am a little jealous of their preparation and execution, even if the plan doesn't turn out exactly as they want.

I just don't have it in me, which is really funny because I used to be SUCH a planner.  I'd call friends to make plans to have dinner like 6 weeks' out when there was absolutely no reason to do so.  Not like we were going to the trendiest restaurant in town or anything.

So I get a slight case of the "shouldas," thinking I should be more like my mom friends, even though it wouldn't provide me any pleasure or ease to do so.

I marvel at how much being a mom has changed me.  And how super freaking awesome antidepressant medication can be for helping a Type-A gal chill the hell out.