Sad to see the pandemic go

Let me qualify that title a bit.

I don't think COVID is done with us even though people are continuing to get vaccinated. I would not be a bit surprised to see rates climb again after March and April spring breaks. 

I've read too many dystopian apocalyptic books to think things are just going to go totally swell (cause 526,000 deaths is not swell). And I've read enough Buddhism books to know it is all hopeless/emptiness, and I can't control it anyway. 

But I am sensing an "end-to-this" feel, and it makes me a little sad. 

Maybe it is just the spring weather?

I won't be sad to see sickness and dying go away.

But it saddens me to think that everyone is going to pick right back up exactly where they left off a year ago, perhaps none the wiser, perhaps having learned nothing or thought nothing about what was better about life in the pandemic.

As the months wore on, I heard people lament their kids being home, things not being normal, and I wanted to shake them and say:

In one year (or 10 years) you are going to be wailing about how your "baby" is going away to college. You have been given the gift of time seeing your child in ways you never would have had if the pandemic hadn't happened. You got a bonus. 

Our family has long been on the slow boat. That is always how D has rolled, and I have gotten more comfortable on the ride over the years. Our kids generally like being home and not doing much. Our lives in many ways didn't change much due to quarantines and the pandemic, but it changed enough that it was a gift. 

We took hikes last spring before N got a job. 

We always ate most dinners together, but now we were eating all meals like we would if we were on a vacation. 

D and I take walks together every single day, and sometimes twice a day. 

It wasn't all bad. 

And so now to think about going back to "normal" makes me cringe because...

I didn't miss the early mornings and the travel time.

I didn't miss the hours away from home and the homework when the kids got home.

I didn't miss being in my car and driving so much. 

I didn't miss the school functions and the paperwork that came home. 

I didn't miss the guilt that sometimes came with not attending school functions. 

I didn't miss the uniforms and the lunches.

I didn't miss the meetings.

I didn't miss the go, and the go, and the go. 

I didn't miss the small talk with people I barely know.

I didn't miss the being friendly when I didn't feel like being friendly. 

Once you become used to more stillness, the idea of returning to the buzz of sound and motion just feels like too much. 

The funny youngest child

Poor M.
The youngest child gets no respect.
When I search my blog labels, I find 193 entries about the oldest.
Due to G's challenges and my need to stew over them in writing, he has 181 entries tagged as middle boy.
M's entries stand at a measly 86.

So this post is for M, who has been especially funny during the pandemic.
Rockin 87 now, baby!

There was the night he asked for leftover pizza for dinner.
His brother asked for scrambled eggs.
(We are not one of those miraculous families that all eat the same thing, as much as I would love for us to be. My sons come from a long line of picky-ass eaters.)

I promptly forgot what M said he wanted and fixed both boys eggs.
When M sat down at the table and saw his plate, he said,
"I give this place 1 star. They got my order completely wrong."

This, of course, made us all laugh uproariously.

The next night, when I did remember to give him leftover pizza for dinner he said,
"The last time I was here, somebody got my order all wrong."

And then yesterday, M choose to write a book review for his NTI work.
He picked "Diary of an 8-Bit Warrior," a series of which he has read the first three books.

He sat and stewed and stared at the screen.
"Do you not know what to write?" I asked.
"Yeah," he said.
"How about if you say, 'This review is about Diary of an 8-Bit Warrior?" I suggested.
He sat and stewed and stared at the screen.
He said something about needing a hook so I suggested: "I'd like to tell you about Diary of an 8-Bit Warrior."
He sat and stewed, finally placing his head in his hands.
Then he said, "I can never be a teacher because I'll just sit there for 15 minutes, trying to think of what to say, and the kids will be going crazy."
He eventually settled on an opening line that he liked and apparently had a "hook."

Tonight at dinner, he and his siblings were decorating cookies, and he was trying to make a Sonic the Hedgehog on his.
He narrated as he added legs and a body.
Finally, he said, "I'm going to add soulless white eyes" which caused all of us to promptly crack up.

All of my kids are quirky as heck, but M has been on a roll of late.

I like reading about how to save money, but....

I'm always drawn to those articles with titles like, "How to save an extra $500 this year!" and "Ways to be even more frugal than you already are."

I click on them, thinking that in one I will find THE MYSTERY TRICK to squeeze a little more blood from a penny.

But what I find is that these articles either suggest doing things I already do or they suggest things that are just, to me, a little ridiculous.

The articles that suggest the things I already do list things like "get books from the library instead of buying them," and "get rid of cable television." Generally, there is nothing these articles suggest that I'm not already doing.

The other articles suggest things that sound "easy" but are a pretty big time suck, in my opinion, like taking surveys every month to earn money. Or using ten trillion apps to save money.

The problem with some of these ideas is that they don't value time, and time is valuable. I use store apps for coupons and iBotta, but these require time to use. They require regular checking to ensure I've clicked the coupons I want and have scanned my receipts and submitted them.

Articles that suggest shopping at four different stores to save money on special items that those stores have on sale don't consider the time involved and the gas involved in driving to and from four different stores.

The articles that suggest that I can get my grocery budget down to $100 a month often require me to buy foods and items that I don't want. I might be able to find a coupon for a $1 bottle of lotion, but with my sensitive skin, I might not even be able to use the lotion, in which case I have spent $1 on nothing.

I don't buy Hamburger Helper or refrigerated biscuits or Poptarts because they are full of preservatives and calories. To buy them might "save me money," but I have to consider my eating values. I'd rather not buy them and spend a little more on veggies or fruits or whole-grain foods. To get $100 on foods I don't want isn't saving me $100.

Over time, I've learned that you sometimes have to spend more money on one thing to avoid spending money on another thing.

For example, last May, I developed plantar fasciitis. I went out and bought a pair of $90 fitness shoes to wear while I walk, and my intention is to purchase a new pair this May. My condition has improved, but I don't want it to come back, which may result in doctor visits and cortisone shots and specially made insoles. Spending $90 a year on new high-quality shoes can potentially keep me from spending a ton more if I re-injure myself.

I've also learned from experience that doing things yourself might not actually be cost-efficient. I tried to change the faucet fixtures in our powder room once. I got the old ones out and could not get the new ones in, so I called a plumber. It took the plumber AND his apprentice to fit the new fixture in. There is no way I could have actually done it myself, and I could have made things worse, which would have been MORE expensive, not less.

I'm sure, despite what I know about these articles, I will continue reading them. I'm a realist but I somehow can suspend my disbelief enough to think maybe there is a Holy Grail.

For the love of god, don't be cruel to the unwell

There is a woman in my neighborhood who is not mentally well.
I have spoken to her maybe one time, but I have heard that she was in a car accident and suffered head trauma. I do not know if this is true. She is probably my age plus or minus some years and lives with her mother.

We have a closed neighborhood social media group, and she posts really strange stuff pretty frequently, which gets deleted quickly, although sometimes not quickly enough.

You can tell that her mental state is not 100% by these posts, and it really doesn't matter whether it is due to trauma or disease.

I tell D about her posts, and I have commented on them to my neighbor who is also my close friend, but I never, ever respond to the posts themselves.
Because what is the point?
Based on the posts, the woman knows she has mental health issues, but she can't help her brain.

As a person who has had mental health issues, I, too, know that I cannot help my brain.
I try not to post uncomfortable things about my mental health on social media....things that make people cringe.
And there is a difference between posts about mental health that make people feel easier about their own mental health issues and posts that make people feel like you are exposing far, far too much of your soul to the world.

(I have crossed this line and been accused of TMI but usually when it involves me posting something about my sons and their nonstop freaking penis/poop/fart/digestive tract verbiage. My post was intended to be funny; I think someone I know also just likes to write TMI on my stuff.)

This lady's posts make people cringe, including people who also have mental health issues.

But what has galled me of late are the people in the neighborhood who have made comments to her public posts on the neighborhood page that poke fun at her.
Things like, "What in the hell are you talking about?"
And then a barrage of gifs from The Office and other shows, movies, and memes that are, perhaps, funny to them but assholish to me.

Don't get me wrong, I am totally thinking to myself, "What in the hell are you talking about?" when I read her posts.
I want her to stop because it makes me and everyone in the neighborhood uncomfortable.
I make a comment to my husband or to someone whom I trust in the neighborhood.
But to make a public cruel comment to someone who is clearly unwell is a whole lot of things but specifically: cruel and grossly immature.

I see people's posts on social media quite often that are embarrassing and cringe-worthy.

Posts about their relationship drama (the gal who got married and in less than a year had found another soul-mate and has now ended that relationship and will power through now and be on her own and strong and other stuff that perhaps she believes but I'm not buying.)
But I don't respond to her posts because.....it's not my business even if she is posting it.
And anything I say is going to make no difference in her life.
And to say something would be mean-spirited.

I am as much part of this problem as anyone because I don't say something like "Is cruelty really necessary?"
(Although in the neighbor's case the initial post and its replies are often deleted before I have an opportunity.)
I may need to make this phrase more a part of my dialogue.

Cool as a cucumber EXCEPT when it comes to back-to-school shopping

People with OCD are often accused of being particular, but I have found that they often aren't any more particular than regular people. They have their oddities, for sure, but these are generally not of the "shallow stuff variety" like M&M colors or which way the danged toilet paper roll goes on the holder, which is what regular people often get their panties in a twist about.

I mean, there are freaking memes about that junk.

I do not have to have M&Ms sorted, and I am just glad someone other than me PUT the toilet paper ON the holder so I have never understood how these things are attributed to OCD-ness.

I'm sure having children has led me to become more relaxed about things.  I don't care what my kids' hair looks like provided it is trimmed and clean (and clean is a relative term). I don't especially care what they wear provided they and their clothes are clean (or relatively clean).

Twice this past year, I have had two people refer to me as being "cool as a cucumber," which I think is both HILARIOUS and appropriate.

I have never thought of myself as a cool as a cucumber-type person because I tend to be pretty excitable, but it is over weird stuff.

One time I was referred to in this way related to how I am as a substitute teacher, and this is probably true. I try very hard to stay completely unflustered by students because that is exactly (especially if they are of the middle-school persuasion) what they want. It is better for me to look bored and ask, "Are you done?" than to get myself all in a kerfluffle. Whispering in their ear, I've found, is far more effective than making a scene which gives them no choice but to make a scene back.

The other was in reference to VBS. My motto is, "Unless I'm getting paid for something, I am not going to worry about it too much." It will all work out, so I'm not going to sweat it much.....or at all.

When it comes to school supplies, however, I am fairly laid back and always have been. I never cared (and still don't) what colors and kinds of notebooks or folders or pencils my students use...whether they are my actual students or my children who are students and for whom I purchase the supplies.

Perhaps in some parallel universe and in some naturally highly organized Earth children, they say, "Oh, blue folder goes with blue notebook," but my experience is that kids are generally idiots who have to be savagely beaten into noticing stuff like this. Any old pencil, notebook, and folder will do when they are asked to get out a pencil, notebook, and folder. I wanted to utilize every second of classroom time and not waste it dicking about with colors of notebooks or whether someone had a pencil.  Find a friend or write with a crayon, but let's go--we got shit to learn.

I have learned to not buy N anything until after the first day of school. When she began 6th grade, I purchased from the "general supply list" and then had to go back out again and purchase plastic folders instead of paper ones since her teacher didn't like that the paper ones fall apart.

Where I am not as cool as a cucumber is on the purchasing end of the school supply thing. I get immensely aggravated at other people's persnicketiness that I have to deal with in a store. I find myself wandering around Staples mumbling things like, "Why don't they just ask for chartreuse notebooks?  How impossible are those to find?  And what is wrong with BLACK notebooks? Is everyone prejudiced against BLACK notebooks?"

I CANNOT HARDLY WAIT for N to start high school so that she can wear regular clothes and I no longer have to drive to every store in town to find uniform pants that fit her in the legs, are not so low-waisted that they ride up her nether regions, that are also the "right" shade of khaki that do not look like jeans, and do not cost $40.

Of course, just as she is getting out of uniforms, G will soon be moving into them which will be an entire blogging thread of disgust and non-cucumber-like behavior. 

Complaining about car repairs and not being poor

Yesterday I got the estimate for minivan repairs to the tune of $3500.

This isn't a repair for just one thing. We have a leak in our evaporator, which requires getting to it from inside the car. And they recommend replacing the heater core, too. My front brakes need replacing. The rack and pinion needs replacing.

Even if I said don't do the two cheapest things on the list of like six things that are part of this repair, it would shave off maybe $200.

And when the temperature is 90 degrees with humidity making it feel like 105, AND I have 3 kids in the vehicle, I really don't have the option of not fixing the AC.
Somehow not fixing the brakes seems irresponsible, too, as does allowing my steering to go out.

We have the money in the bank to fix it.
I hate to spend that money on fixing the car because I rather like to just have money sitting in the bank doing nothing, but it is there and as my mother likes to remind me, the reason a person saves money is to pay for such unexpected things like six minivan repairs that all happen at once.

Since getting this estimate, however, what I have been thinking a lot about are the people who don't have the money sitting in the bank.
All those who have jobs and don't have an emergency fund because it takes 98% of their pay to cover rent, food, utilities, and prescriptions or doctor visits.
All the people who are regularly subjected to unexpected things who have to worry that in paying for a repair, they have to figure out how to feed their children.

I don't have that worry.
My family will be fed even with this huge-ass expense.
We can pay our utilities even with this huge-ass expense.
We can pay for N's field hockey team fee in July even with this expense.
We can still go on our beach vacation even with this expense.

So it angers me to spend money on the money-pit of vehicle ownership, but it also depresses me because I think about those who don't have, and I worry what could be for us.
I think to myself, "What would it take to bring us to that point?"

I cannot live in the illusion that that could never happen to us.
While it might not be likely, it is possible.
I don't know if this is anxiety or the realistic view that a devastating medical condition could potentially financially cripple us.

I think because my brain "goes there" whenever an unexpected happens that I cannot always just live in my little bubble of upper middle classness.

Critter summer

We are only a few weeks into summer break, but I am dubbing it "Summer of Critters."

First, we discovered a nest of baby robins in our smoke tree.

Then, my MIL's neighbor and my friend let me watch her tend her beehive.

There was the day at the creek, watching butterflies, catching minnows and crayfish, and seeing  a snake (EEK!).

There was the evening I donned the special suit and got to see and hear the hive up close.

There was the zoo with lorikeets and butterflies....

The nature center, where the kids saw a captive turtle....

AND a hike in the woods resulted in this...

The critter-fest continues with a whole slew of rabbits in our backyard.

The cats have even gotten in on the action...

The Great "Return to School" Purge

Fortunately, the start of every school year coincides with a seasonal kids consignment sale I participate in.  The first days of school for the kids mean I get to go through all their crap and decide what gets sold.

It is very disheartening to me when I begin this process.  I haven't even gone through their toys and games, and I have loaded 99 items into the consignment inventory.  That is 99 pieces of clothing, shoes, and books.

After entering these 99 items, I went back to the boys' room and pulled out probably 10 more books and a set of sheets that is pretty babyish given that the baby will soon be 7 years old.

The kid-stuff purging results in a general all-around purging in my house.  I start tossing everything and really looking with as objective-as-I-can-get-them eyes.

I ask myself these questions:

Are these items of any legitimate use to me?
How long has it been since we've used these items?
If these items have been sitting in a pile for 6-8 months, what is the likelihood that I will actually use them for anything other than pile-sitting?
Do I really like these items at all?  

What astounds me is that I don't really like to shop and, yet, we still have all this stuff.

It is usually at this point that I think about what a terrible pioneer I would be for many reasons, but most of all because I couldn't get everything I own into one wagon.  

Cycles of family life

There are rhythms to family life especially if you have more than one child.  The iterations of children going through milestones and performances and graduations one after the other, with a couple years or many years scattered between them, provide a routine of sorts.  A feeling of "I think we've done this before."

Our family has had rhythms of sickness.  I suspect all families do.

For a long, long time, we had cycles of surgery.

2006--D had his gallbladder removed.
2007--G was born via c-section.
2008--G had bilateral myringotomy with tubes.
2009--M was born via c-section.
2010--M had bilateral myringotomy with tubes.
2011--M had bilateral myringotomy with tubes, and N had tonsillectomy/adenoidectomy.
2012--Blip year with no surgeries.  Our FSA might have made it to September.
2013--M had tonsillectomy/adenoidectomy and bilateral myringotomy with tubes.
2014--M had bilateral myringotomy with tubes.

For the past 3 years, we've had vacation cycles of sickness/injury.

2014--M developed the ear infection from hell as we began our trip to Sanibel, FL.
2015--D pulled a muscle in his back and got a steroid shot/muscle relaxers while in Orlando, FL.
2016--N, G, and M all had a virus while we were in Michigan.

We are currently in the month-long virus that interfered with Michigan that has both boys on oral antibiotics due to subsequent sinus/ear infections and D down-for-the-count (although trying mightily to work from home).  I keep wondering if I will be the last man to fall or if, somehow, it might pass me by.  I'm not sure what the incubation period is, but I have been breathed on/coughed on for the past month by 4 other people so hopefully I have some kind of super-mom immunity.

It should make me feel better to see a record of these cycles and to remember that we do move beyond them.  Minor illnesses and issues, all, but the repetitiveness of them makes it feel sometimes like it is never.going.to.end.

Is there anything for me to talk about besides subbing?

I could talk about my bathroom remodel.

I expect everything will be wrapped up by the end of May.  It is looking really good.  So good, in fact, that I expect I'll want to gut the rest of my house.


I could talk about the things my kids gave me for Mother's Day.

From N

From G.
Even without his name and photo,
I know this is G's because of the part
 that says "bunny with spike of love."

From M

I had received a "first draft" from M a week or so ago.

I could talk about being invited to speak at a conference for women who write this summer.  I expect it will be a small conference, but I am giddy to be included, especially since my whole entry into freelancing was complete serendipity.  There is even a small honorarium included.

When I sent my acceptance, I mentioned that I had been a freelancer for six years and a blogger for.....almost a decade.  November marks my official 10 years of blogging.  Wow!  And that was a complete accident, too.  

I do a lot of "oops, sorry....wait....oh....I forgot"

One day D asked me how I keep track of everything....my own life and the kids' appointment and school pick-up times and whatnot.

It isn't rocket science.  I have my paper calendar and my iPhone calendar that links to my computer calendar.  I write myself Post-it notes in my paper calendar.

I also very regularly commit to things only to have to go back and cancel or reschedule.  It is not unusual for me to look at my calendar and comment, "Well, shit" because I have double-booked myself or completely forgotten something that is a fairly routine event.

I have to write down stupid stuff that should be fairly ingrained in my head, like "Husband gets paid today" or "Take out recycling."

Sadly, I have even considered writing myself notes to remind myself to pee.

My weeks are chunks of somewhat unusable time.

Next week looks like this:

Monday--drive middles to school, 7(ish); volunteer at middle school bookstore, 9(ish)-12(ish); pick up from middle, 2:30(ish); pick up from elementary, 4(ish).

Tuesday--drive middles to school, 7(ish); piano lesson, 10(ish); occupational therapy for G, 2(ish); pick up from middle, 2:30(ish); pick up from elementary, 4(ish).

Wednesday--drive middles to school, 7(ish); volunteer at middle school, 10(ish)-12(ish); pick up from middle, 2:30(ish); pick up from elementary, 4(ish); Girl Scout meeting, 6(ish)

Thursday--drive middles to school, 7(ish); ; pick up from middle, 2:30(ish); volunteer in 2nd grade class, 3(ish); music class, 4(ish).

Friday--drive middles to school, 7(ish); teach at cottage school, 9(ish)-1(ish); elementary school valentine parties, 2(ish).

(One of the reasons I sorta love Fridays is because for 4+ hours, I am in the same place, doing the same general thing and not having to be in my car.)

I thought I would have oodles of time when all 3 kids were in full-time school, but I do not.  Even if I don't volunteer at the school, I still have errands to run.  Two-hour windows of "free" time throughout my day are the norm.  I fill those with article writing, prepping for my class and cleaning or cooking.

And, really, those two-hour windows aren't even two full hours.  Like the two hours between driving the middles to school and volunteering on Monday are actually filled with haranguing the boys to get dressed, brush teeth, making lunches and waiting for the bus.  Oh, and getting myself ready.  That always comes last.  

Every other week, I get the boys to the clinic by 8 am for allergy shots.

Whenever I think about subbing at the boys' elementary school or trying to find some kind of part-time public school-related position, I get very excited until I remember all of these drive-people-here-and-there responsibilities.

Still, at some point, I will need to go back to more than just very, very part-part time work to help pay for college and the general costs of raising older children (cars, insurance, all 3 in orthodontia), and I have a hard time seeing how that will work.  

Be a calm parent, they said. It will be great, they said.

I like the idea that if I just state facts, allow natural consequences to happen, and remain unemotional, my children will do what needs to be done without my nagging, fussing, or feeling like an extra half dose of Lexapro is a good idea.

Throughout this motherhood gig, I really have tried to be a natural consequences advocate.  When N was little and insisted on going outside without a coat, I let her.  She quickly came back in the house shivering, and I didn't have to yell or anything.

When she refused to get dressed for preschool one time, I dropped her off at the door with her clothes in a bag and said to Ms. Jennifer, "Here's her clothes.  Good luck and good-bye."

With the two knuckleheads, things seem more complicated, which makes me increasingly banshee-ish.

I try to state facts.  I try to remain calm.  But while I'm watching the clock tick, the boys are having a WWF-level event in their bedroom, which may or may not (likely not) involve the removal of their pajamas and the installation of school-appropriate clothing.

So I restate the facts, which seems an awful lot like nagging.

And the natural consequence of not being ready for the bus means missing the bus and results in me having to drive them to school, which is, for them, a positive consequence.  Or the other natural consequence is not going to school.  This is where that whole concept of "natural consequences parenting" doesn't seem to work.

Yesterday, both the boys were avoiding getting their shoes/coats on to get out to the bus.  M said, "I wasn't listening," was his excuse, as if that is so much better than "trying to give the cats more treats" which is what G was doing.

Anyway, by the time I got them upstairs, the bus was there.

I immediately transformed into a banshee-like drill sergeant:  "RUN! RUN! RUN!"

M had one shoe on his foot, the other in his hand and no coat on.  G had his coat on but no shoes on his feet.

I wish I could have photographed the look on G's face when he said, "But we don't have shoes on!"  It was like he thought I'd gone stark raving mad.  I kept screeching, "RUN!  RUN!  I DON'T CARE.  RUN IN SOCKS!"

I grabbed M's coat and both their backpacks, and we sprinted for the bus.

They made it, and I suspect it shocked them both enough (the realization that their mom will actually make them go to the bus however she threatens to...like in pajamas or half-naked or without shoes) that they'll cooperate more the first time I remind them of the time.  

My life in terrible iPhone pictures (Aug 3)

Operation "Get Some of this Crap Out of My House" is slow-going.  Mostly because the kids are in the house all the time in summer, and I can't surreptitiously throw their crap out.  N's interests are American Girl dolls and hoarding.  I have determined that the less space she has for plopping stuff down, the better.  This desk is on its way out.  D asked what I was going to put in its place.  I said, "Empty space."

Hey!  More of N's stuff.  

A doll whose legs fell off, but she wants it to go in her storage "memento" box.  

I've got a better box for it....the garbage can "box."  

N's middle school uniform collection.  Bought shoes yesterday.  

Yeah for my daughter going for comfort (Keds=cheaper) over trendy (Sperry=more expensive).  

My clothes.  My closet is quite large, and my actual clothes take up a small portion of it.  

Now, if I could only get the kids on board.  

Bifocals.  I look happy about that, don't I?

Another window to hang from the covered deck.  Work in progress.  

Belatedly getting into the 21st century

It is with mixed feelings that I enter the world of the smartphone.

I have only had a mobile phone in order for school to be able to reach me when I'm running errands, and up until last fall I had been happy with my archaic flip phone (which was actually my upgrade).  

D has been asking me for years, every time he upgraded his iPhone, if I wanted to use his old one, and I have politely declined for a variety of reasons:  I didn't want the distraction of the internet; I didn't want to have one because everybody has one; I didn't want to pay a monthly fee when 1000 minutes would last me 6-9 months.  

But over the past 8 months or so, I've had a series of small inconveniences that have made me decide that, perhaps, a smartphone might be helpful.

One of these inconveniences was when I texted a friend to get a mutual friend's number.  She sent me the number using her smartphone, and I couldn't open it.  I replied with "Caveman phone.  Send real #."  Since that initial event, it has happened a few other times with different people.

Then there is the issue of communicating with people via different modes.  Some people I text.  Some people I email or message through Facebook.  I have had occasions when I was expecting a message from someone via email or FB and had to drive home to check because I was unable to do so on my phone.  I was supposed to meet the person somewhere and didn't want to drive to our meeting spot only to find out they had sent me a message saying they couldn't meet.   It certainly wasn't a big deal, but considering how much time I currently spend in the car, and how much additional time I anticipate in the car when N starts middle school and M begins elementary, I really would appreciate anything that reduces time spent on the road.

I generally try to keep a book on hand at all times, but there are many occasions when I forget to run upstairs and grab my current read off my nightstand.  When I am waiting in carpool line or in the doctor's office, I have nothing to do.  Being able to check for articles for my classes in those 10 minutes of carpool time would save me 10 minutes on the backend of the day when I could be showering and going to bed.

There is also the coupon thing.  I have gotten so bad about using coupons.  Partly this is because there are 1. rarely coupons for generics and 2. rarely coupons for healthy foods, so I don't use them that much, but for household items like toilet paper and tissue, they still come in handy.  It is all I can do to remember the binder I have them in.  If I don't leave it at home, I leave it in the car.  I am hoping this forgetfulness is mostly due to having to run errands quickly during the 6 hours a week I don't have M with me, but having all of my coupons on my phone, which stays with my wallet, can only help.

I am not looking forward to having a monthly bill, but I am hoping that all of the bells & whistles of convenience (gas saved from not driving home to check email; ability to bring coupons and actually save a bit on expenses, etc) will minimize the time I spend stewing over it. 

Busier than ever with a graduate class

I'm a little overwhelmed at the moment, and while I should be utilizing my time to get actual work done, I'm going to blog.  Decompression is a necessity at the moment.

First, let me say that I am very thankful my husband is not one of those guys who makes snide comments all the time about wanting me to work full-time.  I think he sometimes wonders why our house is as messy as it is since I don't work full-time, but he keeps his lip zipped.  I do have two part-time paying jobs, after all, and a host of volunteer commitments for which I should be paid (if it were up to me in my own perfect world).  For the next 7 weeks I also have a graduate class.

Second, let me say that I don't understand how some folks work full-time, have children and take graduate classes on top of that.  They have my admiration.

I am only one week into the graduate course, and I'm already thinking that perhaps a person who refuses to get a smartphone is not the best candidate to take a class on mobile learning.  I just couldn't take another literature in the classroom course, and I would like to learn about some cool apps and sites that I can bring to use in the cottage school instruction/assignments.

With that being said, I am finding the course reading more dull than most of my craft knives.  With only 7(ish) days under my belt, I am not yet to the stage when I feel confident that I will be able to handle the class without too much angst.

Last week N was sick and only went to school on Friday.  It was at once monotonous and awesome.  Last week was also new basement floor installation so I was limited on what things I could get done around the house.

As a result of our confinement to the house, this week has felt and actually been crazy busy.  On Monday I dropped off over 200 items at the big kids' consignment sale.  Tuesday afternoon (and this afternoon) are the GEMS Club I've been coordinating with the elementary school's learning lab teacher.  Tuesday night was piano.  Last night was a Girl Scout meeting.  Today has been prep for tomorrow's teaching.  I've been burning the 10:45 oil working on the graduate class instead of reading for fun in bed.

I've also been working on a freelance article that involved numerous telephone interviews.

Burning the candle at all ends much?

It makes me think back to the days of the kids' infancies and toddlerhoods when my days were less busy but also so mentally boring I thought I would die.  I felt like so much depended on me being such a great, enthusiastic, be-all-for-my-kids mom that I couldn't relax, and I felt such guilt because I was often so terribly bored.

Blessedly, I am now relaxed around my kids, and I'm not worried about getting it all done in stellar fashion.  If I can get it all done at all, I think I'll feel pretty content.  

Snow day #895,847,502,399

Yesterday was another snow day.

I handled it pretty well, mostly because I was miraculously able to get a telephone interview in for the article I was working on, finish the article, and receive lots of email praise from my editor (Ra-ra, Carrie you are awesome!).  I also made mulligatawny soup, pear cobbler and homemade french fries.  I finished two sit-upons that I'm making for G's kindergarten class to use in the reading garden at school.  I finished reading The One and Only Ivan (a kid-book that only requires minimal concentration).

(Ok, that telephone interview wasn't technically a miracle.  Mindless video games for children can be a blessing.)

I anticipated that today would be a snow day.
I braced myself for it.
I knew that if my district would cancel school based on the forecast of snow coming in 5 hours but no actual snow on the ground or falling from the sky, they would definitely cancel another day of school when snow IS on the ground, and the roads are middling at best.

Today sucks.
And it's not because of the children, per se.  They have hardly been irritating at all.

I've counted Girl Scout cookie booth money.
I've finished the taxes.
I've retyped all the passwords on a clean and uncrimped sheet of paper.

I have zero motivation.
I am bored, bored, bored.

There is plenty I need and want to do.

Like....

1. Read The Grapes of Wrath or Brilliant Blunders (but these are books I cannot read when children are around because I need to concentrate and extended periods of concentration are not something that happens when 3 kids are in the house due to near constant interruptions to fix a Lego or get someone a snack or find something that the child hasn't seen in 6 months and cannot accurately describe.)

2. Deposit cookie booth money at the bank (but do I really want to go through the hassle of badgering the children to "GET DRESSED MOTHAFUCKAS!!" (in my head) for something that isn't absolutely necessary and required by law....like school.)

3. Repaint the dining room furniture (which requires going out to buy paint with the kids (see #2 above) and uninterrupted time (see #1 above).

And I don't want to talk to the kids because I had Saturday and Sunday AND MONDAY, listening to them tell me things about the 19 American Girl dolls they don't actually have but think they may one day have and so these dolls are within the imaginary play repertoire which I find terribly confusing because I cannot remember what is actually real let alone keep up with things in the realm of the pretend.

I don't really want to have my child stick his fingers (which smell like butt) in my face and proceed to tell me, when I say they smell like butt, that he was scratching his butt.
This happened YESTERDAY.

I don't want to get anyone dressed in 17 layers of outdoor wear and have them come to the door, and BANG on the door, and have me fix a mitten or wipe a nose or get down a sled or make up food-colored water in spray bottles so they can paint the snow.
That was YESTERDAY (and every other of these snow days).

Call me a one-trick pony, but I'm finished.

So today at 10:39 am, I am still in my pajamas, teeth and hair unbrushed.  Beds are unmade.
The boys had Saltine crackers for breakfast because that is what they wanted, and I simply am too unambitious today to care.

I did take a load of laundry out of the drier, but I doubt they will be folded today.

Like every other parent in the midwest who is on their zillionth snow day of this school year, I beg of you Zeus, God, Allah, Yahweh, Indra, Rangi, and any other major or minor god of everything or weather in particular.....

Let this winter end.

Even though this will post on Facebook, it is TECHNICALLY not a "bitching about the weather and ANOTHER snow day" FB post

This morning, when D told me that there is no school today due to snow, he had this weird grin on his face, so I thought he was joking and said, "You're kidding."

He replied, with the grin still on his face, "No, I'm not."
That grin made me suspicious.  He knows this has been a winter from hell, and I thought he was just fucking with me.
I said, "You are kidding?"
Crazy grin on his face---"No, I'm not kidding."

It occurred to me sometime later that the reason he had that look on his face is because he was thinking, I am going to get to witness my wife break with reality when I tell her this, and he was at once excited and fearful.

It is 10:45 am, and I have not broken with reality although I've got something akin to formication going on.  My kids are fine, their IQs diminishing by the second as they play video games and watch endless homemade American Girl videos on youtube.

Jimmy crack corn, and I don't care.

The only good thing about no school today is that I don't have to feel guilty taking G out of school early for his rescheduled OT appointment (which are usually on Fridays but this Friday is supposed to be his Valentine Party, and I didn't want him to miss that).  Not that I should feel guilty.  It isn't like he has had anything remotely resembling consistency in his school days this winter, so why should I feel I'm disturbing his tranquil, routine weeks of learning?

So what have I done with my morning?
I've already prepared dinner, run the dishwasher, categorized finances on mint.com, done 3 loads of laundry, stripped a bed and bitched to both my mother and my next-door-neighbor about this god-forsaken weather.  I'm going to break down soon and clean the master bath and iron clothes.

I have not watched tv or eaten bonbons, which someone I know suggested stay-at-home moms do, which is the reason we get so up in arms when snow days are called.  I normally try to politely ignore insane people, but I had to set this person straight.

Everyone I know is half-baked over this winter:

*The stay-at-home moms who haven't been to the gym in months and have collectively gained a zillion pounds because they go when their children are in school, and their children are never in school.

*The working parents who have used up every single second of their vacation time to stay at home with their children on these snow days.

*The grandparents who are being called in the wee hours of the morning to watch the grandkids so the parents can try to get into work and have an hour of vacation left for a summer trip.

*The neighbors who have gone to the store for their "trapped with children in the house" neighbors to get yet another gallon of milk and loaf of bread.

*The old people who would love to stretch their legs by walking to the mailbox but can't because they are scared to death they will fall on the ice and break a hip.

*The store owners who have done zero business because all their regular customers are stuck in their homes with children.

*The government and school officials who have prices on their heads because 1. they can't get the roads cleaned up fast enough and 2. no matter what call they make on school closings it is the wrong one.

Blogging must temporarily cease.... the kids are calling.....

10 minutes later

Now that I've wiped a butt, cleaned snot off the wall, and listened to my sons fight about whether they play Skylander Giants or Kinect Party, I'm going to go scrub the bathroom.  It is the only decompression technique I can find at the moment, and I forgot what I was going to blog about anyway. 

The Wednesday that made me turn the corner on crazy

I have given up.  Uncle. (Mother Nature, do you hear me?  I said UNCLE!)

Monday was a snow day and not once did I bitch on Facebook.  Not one time.  I made the kids hot cocoa and filled squeezable bottles with water & food coloring so they could paint the snow.  I shoveled snow over them up to their necks (at their request).

I can roll with the punches for one day, right???  RIGHT????

Yesterday, however, was an early dismissal due to a pending ice storm, which interfered with my plan to get M to nap since N and G were coming home at the time I would be settling M down for rest.

D came home from work early because of the storm so I felt like I couldn't do any of my normal stuff I might do (like go through all my consignment stuff that is sitting in the office) because he was working in there so I attempted to do our taxes while the kids were awake. That was dumb; I wasn't thinking straight.

N and I were supposed to have our first piano lesson with our new instructor but that was canceled due to the ice storm.

Today was another snow day, and I have zero energy or inclination to be motivated or happy or tolerant or anything.  I think I'm shoulder deep in the proverbial funk.

Who knows if the kids will go to school tomorrow?   I think I've lost my ability to care.

I drove up to the video store today and let them get movies and a game so they can sit in front of the screens and let their brains rot.  I've even discontinued the timer on the video games and computers because I really don't care to keep track of how much time they are spending on them.

I don't want to Pinterest or make Valentines or do anything of the sort.  I did all that this weekend when I made 100th day of school (which we may never actually get to experience because of this dumb ass weather) shirts with G and M (who wanted one too).  I helped G make a Valentine's Day container for his class party.  I went over N's written assessment sheets with her.  I was "the mom" this weekend.

I don't feel like being "the mom" now.  I feel like crawling under a blanket and hibernating until all this winter shit is over, until we have some semblance of order reestablished.  I feel like throwing a toddler-size tantrum on the floor, howling at the moon.

This truly is the winter of my discontent.

(I just noticed I don't have a tag for "winter."  It sucks THAT much.)

First full week of "normal" and I'm beat

I seem to remember signing up for 2 classes once.....the fun kid classes where I get to spend quality time with the kids in an environment where I don't have to clean or do laundry or get snacks or any of the 4 trillion other things that distract me from spending quality time with my kids at home.

Anyway, once we took 2 classes at the same time, and I think I remember saying I wouldn't do that again.  But I did.  And now I'm tired.

Because now, in addition to 2 classes, I'm working out 2 mornings a week (not the same mornings as the classes).  And then there's M's playgroup, which also isn't on the class mornings but is on the workout mornings.

Suffice it to say, my house looks crummy.

Of course, I have been working on the outside of the house now that it is less than 100 degrees outside.  Sealing/staining the swingset.  Working on landscaping in the front of the house (which D and I finished today).  I need to take down the compost bin (which has ripped and is no longer turn-able).  There is also the garage re-do....painting and reorganizing....on the agenda this fall.

I'm also doing birthday preparations.  Buying plates/cups/napkins last week.  Buying stuff to make homemade cake pops this weekend.

As busy as things are right now, I'm not complaining.  Really.
Because I am getting a break from my kids, they aren't watching tv all freaking day, and I am not having the pack the cooler and drag life vests from the car to the pool.

Not so deep thoughts

Here is what has been running through my mind lately.....

*I love my children, but I hate watching them play Kinnect video games.  Or any video games.  Video games are just not my thing.  Nor is watching tv.  I can handle a movie....occasionally (although I have rarely finished a movie with the kids because someone always needs something during it requiring that I get up and miss various parts).

My kids, though, like me to watch them play video games.  So I do.  Sorta.  Blogging at the same time about how much I dislike watching them play video games.  Of course, I have to stop typing repeatedly to help them fix the Xbox or whatev....like just now.  This is so their daddy's area of expertise, and I generally tell them to do it with him.  But some days, I'm not so lucky.

*I miss waking up gradually, especially now that I am stepping more firmly into middle age.  I miss stretching my limbs, yawning, laying in the half-wakefulness of the morning.  Being awoken from a dead sleep at 6:00 am every morning and having to get up immediately, tripping down the steps in a fog, is not cool.

*Nutsedge grass sucks.

*I am really, really glad I have 3 children because it makes me really, really done with whatever phase we've just finished.  It is a nice feeling....to not linger with sentimental weepiness about not ever having another baby.  And I don't want a puppy either.

*My arm muscles look really quite good since my friends and I switched from at-home bootcamp to at-the-gym bootcamp.  I'd be lying if I said I don't make muscle poses in the bathroom mirror.

*Having children means constantly hemorrhaging money.  And while I am glad that we have the funds to cover things, it still sucks to have to take chunks of that hard-saved money and pay for bills.  I don't have to worry how I will pay bills, but I do worry about how long it will take me to recoup savings.