Trying to discipline at 7 in the morning when you can't breathe because every time you talk brings on a coughing fit... not a good start to the week. Can't wait for this ridiculous pneumonia to pass.
What are some good book series for boys? Joshua is 7, but reads at a ridiculous grade level - the boy has no limits any more. However, just because he *can* read something doesn't mean that he's emotionally ready for some things... he inhales Hardy Boys and such, but even that at this age concerns me a little. I need ideas for some age-appropriate novels that are also challenging enough for him to read.
I may have mentioned this before, but I'm thinking of writing a letter to someone...about their deliberate absence in my life... freeing myself from the bondage of their silence but also giving them a chance to be part of it all if they want...
Spencer is experimenting with all kinds of lovely sounds... "ooooo" and 'ba ba ba' and, my personal favourite, "ma ma". He is now pulling up on things and gets the 'victory grin' when he succeeds in pulling something out of a bin that was thought to be too high for him to reach.
I saw a doctor again yesterday - pneumonia is still stuck here. A new antibiotic with the caution that if this doesn't work, off to the hospital for IV antibiotics I go. Because really, I had nothing more fun planned for February.
So... about those book ideas for Joshua? Hit me!
Tuesday, February 14, 2012
Tuesday, February 7, 2012
Seven Quick Takes on Tuesday
1. Pneumonia stinks. I hate how it sucks my breath away. I hate how the coughing fits just jump up on me and render me completely useless for two or ten or fifteen minutes. I hate how exhausted I am.
2. Pneumonia stinks even worse when your nearly three-year-old gets the stomach flu at 11:30 at night, and throws up 6 times before 4:30.
3. My husband is my hero. I've been sleeping on the sofa for about the last 10 or 12 nights so that he can sleep. Meaghan has been sleeping in our room (her bed at the foot of ours) while Spencer figures out his own sleep. While I was up helping clean up the first three puke episodes, Graeme took care of the last 3 by himself. Granted, by this time of the night, we were completely out of bedding and she was sleeping on towels, so it was an easy cleanup, and there was also nothing left in her tummy to chuck besides acid. Easy cleanup. But still. Graeme is my hero. He took care of it and let me rest. I love him for it.
4. Pneumonia stinks, but what stinks even worse is cancer. I found out this week that an acquaintance of mine from Bible School days (who now lives in the same city as me) has stage 3 breast cancer, having spread to the surrounding lymph nodes, and having just been diagnosed less than a month ago. She and her husband have three children; her oldest is in grade one. Following her story has rocked my world.
5. I don't understand how people could ever turn their backs on their children. I've made no secret on Facebook that I have been really sick. My mom is my Facebook "friend", and I know she's active on FB because she's been conversing with my aunt even today. You think there might be *some* sort of acknowledgement or something...? I wish I knew what to do with this messy ugly situation. I wish I knew what to hope for. I can't stand it. We sent her a Christmas card with a note inside, and have received no response.
6. I'm not sure what God is trying to do with me. I know He wants me healthy and whole, and part of that is taking care of myself physically (exercising). But then, He allows something like pneumonia to rob me of potentially weeks or months of the type of activity that would be of benefit...?
7. I've got some really good friends. Friends who pray, friends who bring meals, friends who get mad at doctors who can't diagnose pneumonia... friends who stand with me even when my attitude stinks.
2. Pneumonia stinks even worse when your nearly three-year-old gets the stomach flu at 11:30 at night, and throws up 6 times before 4:30.
3. My husband is my hero. I've been sleeping on the sofa for about the last 10 or 12 nights so that he can sleep. Meaghan has been sleeping in our room (her bed at the foot of ours) while Spencer figures out his own sleep. While I was up helping clean up the first three puke episodes, Graeme took care of the last 3 by himself. Granted, by this time of the night, we were completely out of bedding and she was sleeping on towels, so it was an easy cleanup, and there was also nothing left in her tummy to chuck besides acid. Easy cleanup. But still. Graeme is my hero. He took care of it and let me rest. I love him for it.
4. Pneumonia stinks, but what stinks even worse is cancer. I found out this week that an acquaintance of mine from Bible School days (who now lives in the same city as me) has stage 3 breast cancer, having spread to the surrounding lymph nodes, and having just been diagnosed less than a month ago. She and her husband have three children; her oldest is in grade one. Following her story has rocked my world.
5. I don't understand how people could ever turn their backs on their children. I've made no secret on Facebook that I have been really sick. My mom is my Facebook "friend", and I know she's active on FB because she's been conversing with my aunt even today. You think there might be *some* sort of acknowledgement or something...? I wish I knew what to do with this messy ugly situation. I wish I knew what to hope for. I can't stand it. We sent her a Christmas card with a note inside, and have received no response.
6. I'm not sure what God is trying to do with me. I know He wants me healthy and whole, and part of that is taking care of myself physically (exercising). But then, He allows something like pneumonia to rob me of potentially weeks or months of the type of activity that would be of benefit...?
7. I've got some really good friends. Friends who pray, friends who bring meals, friends who get mad at doctors who can't diagnose pneumonia... friends who stand with me even when my attitude stinks.
Monday, February 6, 2012
Yuck
So, after 13 days of sweating, fevers, and coughing, and four separate doctor visits, "they" (as in "the nice doctor at the hospital") discovered I have pneumonia.
Pneumonia stinks.
I can't take care of my children. It's all I have just to try and nurse Spencer. "Drink extra fluids," they say - meaning I have to drink about 20 cups of water a day just to replace what was lost (I'm dehydrated from all the fevering and sweating), to try and kick this misery, and to replenish enough to feed my baby.
Joshua is at school and the middles are at Grandma's house.
I cried when the doctor told me. Not because I was sad that I am apparently *that sick* (apparently this is worse than I've been giving it credit for), but because I *finally* had an answer...an answer that a few of my friends had been speculating on for days beforehand. Why the first three doctor visits didn't pick this up, I'm not sure.
I'm thankful to have an answer.
I'm thankful to have medicine that will hopefully help me feel a little more human in a day or two.
I'm thankful that the nurse in radiology was so compassionate. The triage nurse was miserable and rude, the admitting nurse was abrupt, and the doctor wasn't too interested in giving me the time of day. But the radiologist? She came to get me - I was sitting with Graeme and Spencer ('cuz I'd had to feed him so he had to come with me, and since I couldn't care for him myself, Graeme also had to come). She smiled at Spencer and took me back to x-ray; once we were back there, she said to me, "You look terrible. It must be hard caring for your little one."
"Yeah."
"How many do you have?"
"Four."
"Oh, honey, I feel so bad for you..."
She must be a mama herself.
(The doctor was a lot nicer to me when he came back with the diagnosis.)
So now, I rest. I have a bit of coverage for the kids over the next couple of days. Not 100% coverage, but more than I normally would otherwise have. I'll take what I can get.
I had signed up a few months ago to ski the Birkie with my friend Mary Jane this coming weekend... well, not the full Birkie, just the shorter Birkie... only 31km... but now I can't do that, obviously. The nice lady in registrations will send my refund request to the powers that be and see what they can do.
I can't play basketball for a while... part of me only thinks for a week or two, but when I say that, people kind of giggle and tell me it'll be a lot longer than that... really? I suppose I'll take what I can get, 'cuz right now, even climbing the stairs is a massive undertaking.
Spencer is finally napping. I'm going to do the same. I've got 1 1/2 hours till Joshua gets off the bus and storms my door with hugs and kisses.
Pneumonia stinks.
I can't take care of my children. It's all I have just to try and nurse Spencer. "Drink extra fluids," they say - meaning I have to drink about 20 cups of water a day just to replace what was lost (I'm dehydrated from all the fevering and sweating), to try and kick this misery, and to replenish enough to feed my baby.
Joshua is at school and the middles are at Grandma's house.
I cried when the doctor told me. Not because I was sad that I am apparently *that sick* (apparently this is worse than I've been giving it credit for), but because I *finally* had an answer...an answer that a few of my friends had been speculating on for days beforehand. Why the first three doctor visits didn't pick this up, I'm not sure.
I'm thankful to have an answer.
I'm thankful to have medicine that will hopefully help me feel a little more human in a day or two.
I'm thankful that the nurse in radiology was so compassionate. The triage nurse was miserable and rude, the admitting nurse was abrupt, and the doctor wasn't too interested in giving me the time of day. But the radiologist? She came to get me - I was sitting with Graeme and Spencer ('cuz I'd had to feed him so he had to come with me, and since I couldn't care for him myself, Graeme also had to come). She smiled at Spencer and took me back to x-ray; once we were back there, she said to me, "You look terrible. It must be hard caring for your little one."
"Yeah."
"How many do you have?"
"Four."
"Oh, honey, I feel so bad for you..."
She must be a mama herself.
(The doctor was a lot nicer to me when he came back with the diagnosis.)
So now, I rest. I have a bit of coverage for the kids over the next couple of days. Not 100% coverage, but more than I normally would otherwise have. I'll take what I can get.
I had signed up a few months ago to ski the Birkie with my friend Mary Jane this coming weekend... well, not the full Birkie, just the shorter Birkie... only 31km... but now I can't do that, obviously. The nice lady in registrations will send my refund request to the powers that be and see what they can do.
I can't play basketball for a while... part of me only thinks for a week or two, but when I say that, people kind of giggle and tell me it'll be a lot longer than that... really? I suppose I'll take what I can get, 'cuz right now, even climbing the stairs is a massive undertaking.
Spencer is finally napping. I'm going to do the same. I've got 1 1/2 hours till Joshua gets off the bus and storms my door with hugs and kisses.
Saturday, January 28, 2012
I knew this would happen...
I've had a fever nearly non-stop for five days, accompanied by painful muscle spasms and headaches.
Graeme has a friend coming over to do a wood project in the garage (Graeme has the tools, friend has the project).
Friend comes with 2 kids (slightly older than my boys) because their mom is at a conference.
Spencer has had a few crabby days - I wonder if he's getting sick, too, or if it's just the teething. Tooth number 8 is ready to come out any minute.
No matter.
Project should only take 15 or 20 minutes...? It's been an hour.
Guess who gets stuck with ALL six kids? And guess who gets Spencer *finally* settled and asleep?
Me.
Yeh. He didn't stay asleep. I'm not sure how I'm supposed to keep 5 Star-Wars playing kids quiet while I'm feeding and settling a crabby baby in my condition...
I wonder - it's 5:02 - if I'm going to have to miraculously come up with supper for them, too?
This is one of *those* days where I simply don't need this... what is God trying to teach me, I wonder?
Graeme has a friend coming over to do a wood project in the garage (Graeme has the tools, friend has the project).
Friend comes with 2 kids (slightly older than my boys) because their mom is at a conference.
Spencer has had a few crabby days - I wonder if he's getting sick, too, or if it's just the teething. Tooth number 8 is ready to come out any minute.
No matter.
Project should only take 15 or 20 minutes...? It's been an hour.
Guess who gets stuck with ALL six kids? And guess who gets Spencer *finally* settled and asleep?
Me.
Yeh. He didn't stay asleep. I'm not sure how I'm supposed to keep 5 Star-Wars playing kids quiet while I'm feeding and settling a crabby baby in my condition...
I wonder - it's 5:02 - if I'm going to have to miraculously come up with supper for them, too?
This is one of *those* days where I simply don't need this... what is God trying to teach me, I wonder?
Monday, January 23, 2012
Seven Quick Takes
Is this supposed to be a Friday thing? Seven Quick Takes on Friday?
Well, no matter. It's Monday, so I'm either early or late.
1. Spencer is a riot. He randomly burps at the table (from his high chair), then gets this goofy shocked look on his face, then giggles. That's my boy!! Totally priceless.
2. Meaghan has quite the life. She sat on our friends' countertop in PA with Mike, and suddenly proclaimed, "This is the LIFE!" She has repeated the same phrase with equal vigour when she has cozied into our bed under our new soft duvet, or sitting beside other friends. She knows a good thing when she's part of it. However, it should also be known that she has also said the same thing when passing gas while sitting on the toilet. (Sorry, Megs...)
3. Meaghan is the queen of kung-fu ballet. She performs a great kick (complete with accompanying "Hi-YAH!") and then promptly twirls around and finishes with a perfect ballerina's pose.
4. Spencer has seven teeth. The kid is the messiest teether. None of my other kids had flesh that broke like this. His gummy flesh just hangs there, swollen, bleeding, and pulverized. Poor kid.
5. Dustin and Joshua are starting swimming lessons again tonight. Dustin is going to be a crocodile, and Joshua is in Red Cross Level 3.
6. I may be taking some x-country ski lessons in the Fort...? We'll see. One thing at a time.
7. Today I am remembering a little guy whose life on earth was far too short. Happy 4th birthday, Brennan. You are a treasure.
Well, no matter. It's Monday, so I'm either early or late.
1. Spencer is a riot. He randomly burps at the table (from his high chair), then gets this goofy shocked look on his face, then giggles. That's my boy!! Totally priceless.
2. Meaghan has quite the life. She sat on our friends' countertop in PA with Mike, and suddenly proclaimed, "This is the LIFE!" She has repeated the same phrase with equal vigour when she has cozied into our bed under our new soft duvet, or sitting beside other friends. She knows a good thing when she's part of it. However, it should also be known that she has also said the same thing when passing gas while sitting on the toilet. (Sorry, Megs...)
3. Meaghan is the queen of kung-fu ballet. She performs a great kick (complete with accompanying "Hi-YAH!") and then promptly twirls around and finishes with a perfect ballerina's pose.
4. Spencer has seven teeth. The kid is the messiest teether. None of my other kids had flesh that broke like this. His gummy flesh just hangs there, swollen, bleeding, and pulverized. Poor kid.
5. Dustin and Joshua are starting swimming lessons again tonight. Dustin is going to be a crocodile, and Joshua is in Red Cross Level 3.
6. I may be taking some x-country ski lessons in the Fort...? We'll see. One thing at a time.
7. Today I am remembering a little guy whose life on earth was far too short. Happy 4th birthday, Brennan. You are a treasure.
Sunday, January 22, 2012
Skiing Lessons
Today I took the boys to the Strathcona Wilderness Centre. It's the annual "Snow Day" - and the day was perfect!!
My knees have still been really sore, but I've been medicating from the inside out AND the outside in, and doing all kinds of therapy. And I found my old knee brace and put it on also. My left knee in particular is quite bad, but it was stable enough to enjoy the quick "free" one-hour group lesson today. All the kids went to one group, and all the adults went to another. It was probably a good idea, as Dustin was exhausted at the end of it all and would likely have been whining to me half-way through if I'd been around! Joshua, however, was a rock star and wanted to keep going afterwards. He's gonna be my ski buddy!! Dustin is such a little tyke, still, so I totally get that he's going to take a while to get into it. He did so well, and was pleased that he even won a race!
So I actually did learn a few things in my lesson today! I'm excited to go out and try skiing again. And, I'm SUPER thankful that my knees feel much better tonight than they did even this morning! That's a relief, for sure. I'm looking forward to my next physio appointment and learning how to "tape" my knees up until they're strong enough to support themselves - the taping itself can be used to re-train muscles and joints, apparently. I'm intrigued by it!
My knees have still been really sore, but I've been medicating from the inside out AND the outside in, and doing all kinds of therapy. And I found my old knee brace and put it on also. My left knee in particular is quite bad, but it was stable enough to enjoy the quick "free" one-hour group lesson today. All the kids went to one group, and all the adults went to another. It was probably a good idea, as Dustin was exhausted at the end of it all and would likely have been whining to me half-way through if I'd been around! Joshua, however, was a rock star and wanted to keep going afterwards. He's gonna be my ski buddy!! Dustin is such a little tyke, still, so I totally get that he's going to take a while to get into it. He did so well, and was pleased that he even won a race!
So I actually did learn a few things in my lesson today! I'm excited to go out and try skiing again. And, I'm SUPER thankful that my knees feel much better tonight than they did even this morning! That's a relief, for sure. I'm looking forward to my next physio appointment and learning how to "tape" my knees up until they're strong enough to support themselves - the taping itself can be used to re-train muscles and joints, apparently. I'm intrigued by it!
Saturday, January 21, 2012
How wonderful!
Yesterday, I went to visit a naturopathic doctor. She was fantastic!
I'll spare you the details of our appointment - for now - but early on in the appointment, she shocked me.
She asked how many children I had.
"Oh, I have four."
"Four! How WONDERFUL!"
That was a first. Usually the response is something along the lines of, "Wow, you must be busy." Or, "You have your hands full!"
Her response blessed me. How wonderful that there are still people who appreciate "large" families (even though my family is still quite small in comparison to some).
I'll spare you the details of our appointment - for now - but early on in the appointment, she shocked me.
She asked how many children I had.
"Oh, I have four."
"Four! How WONDERFUL!"
That was a first. Usually the response is something along the lines of, "Wow, you must be busy." Or, "You have your hands full!"
Her response blessed me. How wonderful that there are still people who appreciate "large" families (even though my family is still quite small in comparison to some).
Thursday, January 19, 2012
Another setback
I can't win. I simply can't win. It's ironic that someone said earlier that they were hoping for a WIN for me.
However, today is not my day.
Here's an e-mail I sent out to my in-laws and some friends earlier tonight:
Time to go find some ice and apply the TENS!
However, today is not my day.
Here's an e-mail I sent out to my in-laws and some friends earlier tonight:
So, I had an appointment with Dr. Jones today -
I have an injury to both knees in the LCL - Lateral Collateral Ligament - which is the supporting ligament on the outside of the knee that's attached to the iliotibial band (which stabilizes the outside of the leg from the hip down to the knee). The left is worse than the right. Walking stairs today was beyond painful. I have the added complication of an unusual form of shin splints high on the outside of the shin.
I have a number of options - simply rest it and ice it, and hope it sort of heals somewhere within the next 2-6 weeks.
Or - aggressively treat it with a rigorous combination of TENS, ice, ultrasound, anti-inflammatory rub, stretching, and strengthening, and adding some kinesio tape next week when things settle down a bit and see how I fare with that. The doctor doesn't want to see this debilitate me, and thinks we can avoid a major stoppage of "play" by treating it aggressively.
I'm opting for the more aggressive treatment, obviously. I've spent far too much time exercising these last few weeks to let it all go down the drain by "resting passively".
So there you have it.
I wonder if I can be healed enough to go skiing tomorrow?So... I try to treat it and hope that everything I have been doing these last 3-4 weeks is salvageable... skiing, basketball, workouts, rowing, running... I'll be kinda ticked if my season is done for a couple of reasons: firstly, because even though the scale is not moving, I've got some momentum - but secondly, I've kind of put out a bit of money to ski and play basketball this winter, and I will NOT be impressed if I can't use those investments this winter!!
Time to go find some ice and apply the TENS!
Tuesday, January 17, 2012
A short update
If you're not into negative or downcast stuff, just close this window and carry on with your day like you never even stumbled upon the Buzzings...
I wrote this into a "Healthy Life" group that I'm part of on Facebook - pretty much sums up some things.
I wrote this into a "Healthy Life" group that I'm part of on Facebook - pretty much sums up some things.
- "stop nursing so you can take drugs" (drugs haven't helped before, so I'm not going to stop nursing just so I can take something that I know isn't going to help - doing both Spencer and I a huge disservice)
- "exercise more" (right, because I have more hours in my day to do that...)
- "eat less" (right, because with nursing, I should be on a 1200cal diet?)
- "work harder" (come and do my job, then)
- "just get over it" (wanna walk a mile in my shoes? right. didn't think so.)
Do more. Do less. Be more. Be less. Get it together. Lower your expectations. Make it all perfect. Because if it's perfect on the outside, then it *must* be perfect on the inside, right? The torment is overwhelming...
Jesus, where are You?
I have a naturopath appointment on Friday. Maybe she'll be able to offer some greater insight?
Wednesday, December 21, 2011
These days...
My sweet Spencer -
The days are long. The nights are wearying. I am being stretched, pulled, and reshaped in every way imaginable.
Buddy, though this is a rough patch of my life, I pray you know that none of this is your fault. God has created you to be a super neat little guy. I hope you know how incredibly wonderful you are. I'm pretty sure you must know, given all the kisses, nibbles, snuggles, and cuddles we have, along with all the silly songs I make up and sing to you.
I pray for healing constantly. I see little glimmers of hope, where I start to function properly again. Where my body doesn't betray me, even for a few hours, and where I can think clearly and find joy in the little things. It's a long and hard road, little buddy, but this one thing I want you to know:
You are so incredibly worth it, just as much as the ones before you.
I would never trade you - or any of your siblings - for my own health. I would rather have this difficult journey than to not have you.
Precious child.
The days are long. The nights are wearying. I am being stretched, pulled, and reshaped in every way imaginable.
Buddy, though this is a rough patch of my life, I pray you know that none of this is your fault. God has created you to be a super neat little guy. I hope you know how incredibly wonderful you are. I'm pretty sure you must know, given all the kisses, nibbles, snuggles, and cuddles we have, along with all the silly songs I make up and sing to you.
I pray for healing constantly. I see little glimmers of hope, where I start to function properly again. Where my body doesn't betray me, even for a few hours, and where I can think clearly and find joy in the little things. It's a long and hard road, little buddy, but this one thing I want you to know:
You are so incredibly worth it, just as much as the ones before you.
I would never trade you - or any of your siblings - for my own health. I would rather have this difficult journey than to not have you.
Precious child.
Thursday, December 15, 2011
Why I Like to Wear Spencer
*This one has been stewing in my drafts folder for a while; I didn't have enough baby wearing pictures to add to the post though until recently. So I made some minor edits, added some pictures, and here I *finally* can post!!*
We've all heard of the benefits of babywearing:
Calmer baby/easier to soothe baby
Doubles as "tummy-time", meaning less flat-head syndrome from Baby laying in carseat or other baby-occupying devices too long
Bonding
I, however, would like to submit my own list:
I need to wear Spencer because it's the only way to fully protect him from his big sister if she's around. She likes to poke his eyes, though she is finally getting better. She still likes to pull on his fingers and toes, though, and poke at his belly.
I need to wear Spencer because really, I can't push a stroller with a baby in it and hold Meaghan's hand to walk at the same time.
I need to wear Spencer because when it's cold outside, and everyone else is complaining about the wind and freezing temperatures, I have my own personal heater. We are toasty and cozy!
I need to wear Spencer because, well, he hides stains on my shirt that he alone is responsible for. It can get a little sweaty, though, especially in the heat of summer at the bottom of the (desert) Great Sandhills in Saskatchewan...
I need to wear Spencer to protect him from well-meaning but smothering individuals. If I'm wearing him, people are far less likely to insist on holding him. I'm pretty choosy about the people whom I let hold Spencer.... not so much because of germs, but because, well, they just over-stimulate him. Far too "in-yo'-FACE" for my liking.
I need to wear Spencer because sometimes he needs a really good nap when I'm out and about (like at one of Joshua's soccer games) - he does not sleep in his carseat, and is so-so in someone's arms; wrapping him is a 95% guarantee of a good long nap for him, and I can go about cheering for my boy, playing with the other kids at the park, or going for a walk. Let's face it, he sleeps for approximately 16-18 hours a day right now, and I can't possibly stay at home that much or I (and my other children) will go completely nuts. And I would miss out on so much myself!
I need to wear Spencer because, well, I just love him. It's cozy and comforting, and it feeds me. And I know these days won't last forever. I want to breathe his babyness in... etch it forever into memory.
We've all heard of the benefits of babywearing:
Calmer baby/easier to soothe baby
Doubles as "tummy-time", meaning less flat-head syndrome from Baby laying in carseat or other baby-occupying devices too long
Bonding
I, however, would like to submit my own list:
I need to wear Spencer because it's the only way to fully protect him from his big sister if she's around. She likes to poke his eyes, though she is finally getting better. She still likes to pull on his fingers and toes, though, and poke at his belly.
I need to wear Spencer because really, I can't push a stroller with a baby in it and hold Meaghan's hand to walk at the same time.
I need to wear Spencer because when it's cold outside, and everyone else is complaining about the wind and freezing temperatures, I have my own personal heater. We are toasty and cozy!
I need to wear Spencer because, well, he hides stains on my shirt that he alone is responsible for. It can get a little sweaty, though, especially in the heat of summer at the bottom of the (desert) Great Sandhills in Saskatchewan...
I need to wear Spencer because sometimes he needs a really good nap when I'm out and about (like at one of Joshua's soccer games) - he does not sleep in his carseat, and is so-so in someone's arms; wrapping him is a 95% guarantee of a good long nap for him, and I can go about cheering for my boy, playing with the other kids at the park, or going for a walk. Let's face it, he sleeps for approximately 16-18 hours a day right now, and I can't possibly stay at home that much or I (and my other children) will go completely nuts. And I would miss out on so much myself!
I need to wear Spencer because, well, I just love him. It's cozy and comforting, and it feeds me. And I know these days won't last forever. I want to breathe his babyness in... etch it forever into memory.
Saturday, December 3, 2011
Laundry - how we do it
My friend Paige often does posts on organization. She has 7 children, and has had to find systems that work for her! While I often glean some nuggets of help out of her posts, her latest one about laundry organization left me shaking my head is disbelief at the sheer number of hangers she uses, because hangers in that quantity in my home would only be used as toys and weapons in the quantity that she certainly uses them!
So, here's how we roll with laundry - at least, this is my ideal, and it seems to be working well *for us*.
Monday - kids' laundry. They each have their own hamper, labelled with their names. Joshua, Dustin, Meaghan. Spencer's laundry is still random, as he doesn't make much laundry some weeks, yet can also fill an entire basket in two days. So, he's not yet "in the system" yet. In the morning, the boys bring down their laundry, and I bring down Meaghan's. As the loads go through the washer and dryer, the baskets get stacked in the living room for folding when Joshua gets home from school.
Yes, I make my boys fold laundry. Dustin is now 5, and Joshua is 7. It's been well over a year since they've both been required to fold, and while they are very slow (specifically the 5 year-old, but hey, he's FIVE!) and not overly neat (yet), the boys each usually fold their own laundry. Then they haul their baskets upstairs and put their clothing away. Their dressers have organizer baskets in the top drawer - one for socks, one for undies. Jammies go in the top drawer also. Shirts in the middle drawer, pants in the bottom drawer. Sweaters and dress shirts get hung. We don't have too many of those.
I don't actually sort the kids' laundry - yet. I know a lot of people do jeans & colours & whites... but really, unless things are super-dirty, we throw the jeans and colours into one load, and we don't have whites here. I refuse. :) This way, I can do my loads as individual "people", so we don't have to go through sorting which pants belong to who - we just know that the entire load is Dustin's or Joshua's, etc.
Actually, all of our dressers are organized like this. 'Cept, Graeme's and my jeans do get hung in the closet also.
I fold Meaghan's laundry, though sometimes if I'm working on an especially big meal, or if I'm having trouble with Meaghan walking through the stacks of folded laundry, I will ask the boys to fold her stuff, too. This is a rare occurrence. I usually take care of Spencer's, though the boys actually *ask* to fold his stuff. They like folding baby clothes. I can't say I blame them.
How long does it take? Well, sometimes, if they choose good attitudes, it takes maybe 10 minutes for them to fold a basket full of laundry. Bad attitudes? An hour, maybe more. But the choice is theirs.
Tuesday - Graeme's & my laundry, and sometimes Spencer's. Again, Spencer's is random. I fold our stuff.
Wednesday - bedding. Granted, this doesn't happen every week. Bedding comes off beds in the morning, and goes back on in the afternoon/evening as it comes out of the dryer.
Friday - bath towels and dish towels. Is it gross to wash those only once a week? The boys can fold all of this when they come home. They are good at it, and it doesn't take them long. Meaghan, now 2 1/2, has been actually "bugging" the boys because she wants to "help" also fold the little towels and cloths. They get mad because she's getting in their way, but really, she can fold those things really well! She gets mad if the boys don't let her help... so now it's a 3-person job. She's in her glory.
Every night is diaper night. Toss diapers in right before I head to bed; put them in the dryer first thing in the morning. It takes me a couple minutes to re-stuff the diapers and stack them in Spencer's drawer. Now that Meaghan has been toilet trained for quite a while, getting the diapers done is really a quick deal!
...and our laundry is done for the week.
Occasionally, I will need to toss in a few articles later in the week - pants got super-muddy through the week, shirts got spilled on, etc - but I will try to hold off until the actual laundry day. I find that spring and summer will often yield the extra loads, and that's totally OK! (Let's not talk about how illness throws off the schedule - hence the three free days in the week to pick up the slack!)
So there you have it - how *I* do it. It's not for every family, but it works for me at this point in my life. There will be give and take as kids' activities and homework come into play even more; we will flex days and switch schedules. For now, I'm not going to fix what's not broken.
So, here's how we roll with laundry - at least, this is my ideal, and it seems to be working well *for us*.
Monday - kids' laundry. They each have their own hamper, labelled with their names. Joshua, Dustin, Meaghan. Spencer's laundry is still random, as he doesn't make much laundry some weeks, yet can also fill an entire basket in two days. So, he's not yet "in the system" yet. In the morning, the boys bring down their laundry, and I bring down Meaghan's. As the loads go through the washer and dryer, the baskets get stacked in the living room for folding when Joshua gets home from school.
Yes, I make my boys fold laundry. Dustin is now 5, and Joshua is 7. It's been well over a year since they've both been required to fold, and while they are very slow (specifically the 5 year-old, but hey, he's FIVE!) and not overly neat (yet), the boys each usually fold their own laundry. Then they haul their baskets upstairs and put their clothing away. Their dressers have organizer baskets in the top drawer - one for socks, one for undies. Jammies go in the top drawer also. Shirts in the middle drawer, pants in the bottom drawer. Sweaters and dress shirts get hung. We don't have too many of those.
I don't actually sort the kids' laundry - yet. I know a lot of people do jeans & colours & whites... but really, unless things are super-dirty, we throw the jeans and colours into one load, and we don't have whites here. I refuse. :) This way, I can do my loads as individual "people", so we don't have to go through sorting which pants belong to who - we just know that the entire load is Dustin's or Joshua's, etc.
Actually, all of our dressers are organized like this. 'Cept, Graeme's and my jeans do get hung in the closet also.
I fold Meaghan's laundry, though sometimes if I'm working on an especially big meal, or if I'm having trouble with Meaghan walking through the stacks of folded laundry, I will ask the boys to fold her stuff, too. This is a rare occurrence. I usually take care of Spencer's, though the boys actually *ask* to fold his stuff. They like folding baby clothes. I can't say I blame them.
How long does it take? Well, sometimes, if they choose good attitudes, it takes maybe 10 minutes for them to fold a basket full of laundry. Bad attitudes? An hour, maybe more. But the choice is theirs.
Tuesday - Graeme's & my laundry, and sometimes Spencer's. Again, Spencer's is random. I fold our stuff.
Wednesday - bedding. Granted, this doesn't happen every week. Bedding comes off beds in the morning, and goes back on in the afternoon/evening as it comes out of the dryer.
Friday - bath towels and dish towels. Is it gross to wash those only once a week? The boys can fold all of this when they come home. They are good at it, and it doesn't take them long. Meaghan, now 2 1/2, has been actually "bugging" the boys because she wants to "help" also fold the little towels and cloths. They get mad because she's getting in their way, but really, she can fold those things really well! She gets mad if the boys don't let her help... so now it's a 3-person job. She's in her glory.
Every night is diaper night. Toss diapers in right before I head to bed; put them in the dryer first thing in the morning. It takes me a couple minutes to re-stuff the diapers and stack them in Spencer's drawer. Now that Meaghan has been toilet trained for quite a while, getting the diapers done is really a quick deal!
...and our laundry is done for the week.
Occasionally, I will need to toss in a few articles later in the week - pants got super-muddy through the week, shirts got spilled on, etc - but I will try to hold off until the actual laundry day. I find that spring and summer will often yield the extra loads, and that's totally OK! (Let's not talk about how illness throws off the schedule - hence the three free days in the week to pick up the slack!)
So there you have it - how *I* do it. It's not for every family, but it works for me at this point in my life. There will be give and take as kids' activities and homework come into play even more; we will flex days and switch schedules. For now, I'm not going to fix what's not broken.
Wednesday, November 30, 2011
"As long as it's healthy..."
I wrote this post back in the beginning days of October, when we were going through the worst of dealing with Spencer's face, before we'd seen the dermatologist. It's been sitting in my drafts folder, and I'm not sure why I didn't publish it back then... but I'm going to here, now.
I'm going to digress for a bit here.
...to something a little more pro-life.
Lately I've been aware of illness. In small children. Babies. Preschoolers.
I've seen (and read of) mamas love fiercely and grieve deeply, both at the same time.
I've been faced (no pun intended) with the very real possibility that my own child might end up scarred for life from an infection on his face. I've wondered how he would look, what the future would hold for him, and how he would cope. Other parts of his body are still affected, too - the back of his head being the next biggest concern. (I'm not a perpetual worrywart, by the way, but I did have to think about and prepare for "the next step" if this current treatment didn't work.)
I've thought about my *perfect* little baby boy... in his imperfectness... and know in the very depths of my heart that nothing that could happen to him would change how fiercely I love him.
And I thought about this: what if he was *born* this way? Outwardly scarred? Outwardly "imperfect"? What if it was something more serious than what we have dealt with this past month?
Would I love him less?
Would I not want him?
I used to think that it was so cute when people would ask if we knew whether we were having a boy or a girl ("no"), and then they'd reply, "Well, as long as it's healthy, right?" - or - the other classic, "As long as it has 10 fingers and 10 toes, hey?"
Guess what.
Even if Spencer wasn't - isn't - healthy... I still love him with my entire being. I ache for him. I have a dear friend who lost two babies very, very shortly after they were born due to serious birth "defects" - and I would wager that she would never trade those babies or those moments back. Though the grief is immense, she knows that God has somehow had a plan in all of this - shaping *her* life - and in turn, shaping others... learning to love even more deeply...
(And I've actually known a little boy born with 6 fingers on one hand.)
Does Jesus make mistakes?
No.
He formed my wee baby... He forms him still today...
I am blessed to be his mama. I would still want him, even if he wasn't perfect. Because to me, he *is* perfect. Jesus did a beautiful job creating this little guy.
**Update: I am pleased to say that the last course of treatment helped Spencer's face significantly, but the issue still hasn't completely resolved...**
I'm going to digress for a bit here.
...to something a little more pro-life.
Lately I've been aware of illness. In small children. Babies. Preschoolers.
I've seen (and read of) mamas love fiercely and grieve deeply, both at the same time.
I've been faced (no pun intended) with the very real possibility that my own child might end up scarred for life from an infection on his face. I've wondered how he would look, what the future would hold for him, and how he would cope. Other parts of his body are still affected, too - the back of his head being the next biggest concern. (I'm not a perpetual worrywart, by the way, but I did have to think about and prepare for "the next step" if this current treatment didn't work.)
I've thought about my *perfect* little baby boy... in his imperfectness... and know in the very depths of my heart that nothing that could happen to him would change how fiercely I love him.
And I thought about this: what if he was *born* this way? Outwardly scarred? Outwardly "imperfect"? What if it was something more serious than what we have dealt with this past month?
Would I love him less?
Would I not want him?
I used to think that it was so cute when people would ask if we knew whether we were having a boy or a girl ("no"), and then they'd reply, "Well, as long as it's healthy, right?" - or - the other classic, "As long as it has 10 fingers and 10 toes, hey?"
Guess what.
Even if Spencer wasn't - isn't - healthy... I still love him with my entire being. I ache for him. I have a dear friend who lost two babies very, very shortly after they were born due to serious birth "defects" - and I would wager that she would never trade those babies or those moments back. Though the grief is immense, she knows that God has somehow had a plan in all of this - shaping *her* life - and in turn, shaping others... learning to love even more deeply...
(And I've actually known a little boy born with 6 fingers on one hand.)
Does Jesus make mistakes?
No.
He formed my wee baby... He forms him still today...
I am blessed to be his mama. I would still want him, even if he wasn't perfect. Because to me, he *is* perfect. Jesus did a beautiful job creating this little guy.
**Update: I am pleased to say that the last course of treatment helped Spencer's face significantly, but the issue still hasn't completely resolved...**
Tuesday, November 29, 2011
The Free Frosty Story
Yesterday I wrote on Facebook: "Dustin scored a free frosty at Wendy's today!"
The comments that followed were all about how I was feeding my kid wood... nobody seemed to care HOW my son scored a free frosty. This was one of my comments:
Anyway - for the *one* person that did ask, and for my own memories and for the recounting of the story to my middle son in years to come, here is the account of the Free Frosty.
We were in Wendy's yesterday - because, yes, once in a while, in my defeated and exhausted delirium, I do feed my kids fast food. I obviously underestimated the amount of food that Dustin needed to sustain his very existence, but I couldn't go up to the order counter again with Spencer and Meaghan and all our junk in tow.
The lineup was short, so I handed my five-year-old a $5 bill and sent him up with very specific instructions for what to ask for. It was quite a ways across the restaurant - far enough so that I couldn't hear him, but close enough that I could see him through the pillars of the front of the establishment.
The order-taker leaned down to him, and I could see she was trying to make sure she understood what Dustin was saying.
He came back 2 minutes later, proudly carrying his tray with two more items and dipping sauce, exactly as instructed. He sat at the table, handed me my change (which I promptly handed back to him for being such a brave boy!), and dug in.
Two minutes later, the lady who took his order came up to our table with a frosty in hand. She told me, "This is for your son. He was so polite and so good and so cute when he came up to order!"
The look on Dustin's face was priceless. He said a huge thank you, then he went and got an extra spoon and shared with Meaghan. He was in his glory.
Even if he *was* eating wood in his frosty.
The comments that followed were all about how I was feeding my kid wood... nobody seemed to care HOW my son scored a free frosty. This was one of my comments:
Apparently if you want to eat clean, you have to be a cave man. Or have a snot load of time on your hands to research and process information and shop - time that I do not have. This was a one-off outing in the midst of running a couple of errands...for a mom who is utterly depleted and, for once, needed to grab a bite while out with hungry kids. Shame on society for taking advantage of someone like me.(For the record, the long story made short is that apparently lots of restaurants use cellulose - a byproduct of wood pulp - as fillers in their food. Wendy's frosties apparently fall into that category of foods affected.)
Anyway - for the *one* person that did ask, and for my own memories and for the recounting of the story to my middle son in years to come, here is the account of the Free Frosty.
We were in Wendy's yesterday - because, yes, once in a while, in my defeated and exhausted delirium, I do feed my kids fast food. I obviously underestimated the amount of food that Dustin needed to sustain his very existence, but I couldn't go up to the order counter again with Spencer and Meaghan and all our junk in tow.
The lineup was short, so I handed my five-year-old a $5 bill and sent him up with very specific instructions for what to ask for. It was quite a ways across the restaurant - far enough so that I couldn't hear him, but close enough that I could see him through the pillars of the front of the establishment.
The order-taker leaned down to him, and I could see she was trying to make sure she understood what Dustin was saying.
He came back 2 minutes later, proudly carrying his tray with two more items and dipping sauce, exactly as instructed. He sat at the table, handed me my change (which I promptly handed back to him for being such a brave boy!), and dug in.
Two minutes later, the lady who took his order came up to our table with a frosty in hand. She told me, "This is for your son. He was so polite and so good and so cute when he came up to order!"
The look on Dustin's face was priceless. He said a huge thank you, then he went and got an extra spoon and shared with Meaghan. He was in his glory.
Even if he *was* eating wood in his frosty.
Saturday, November 26, 2011
My Week
My week?
I don't remember much of it, really.
It involved a horrific stomach flu, the details of which I'm sure you'll be happy I'm sparing you from.
It involved a 5-year-old boy getting a really sudden and really severe case of bronchiolitis, resulting in a really sudden trip to a really serious doctor who really suddenly put Dustin on prednisone for the swelling (or something... I don't really understand...)
It involved me thinking I was on the mend, only to find out that I can pass out at the drop of a hat and, three (or is it four?) days later, still find that I can barely put anything in my stomach without feeling absolutely disgusting.
It involved me thinking that since I was on the mend, it would be a good idea for me to actually, you know, HOLD Spencer. But then when I went to walk with my crabby baby, whom I was sure was only crabby because he hadn't seen me much the day before since I was busy visiting the inside of a toilet bowl instead, he decided that he was also not feeling well. There's baby spit-up, and then there's baby-all-out-barfing. I've *never* seen that quantity of stomach contents expelled at one time from such a tiny baby. My entire back was soaked (I'm *so* glad my hair was in a ponytail at the time), and the puddle on the floor required an entire bath towel, completely unfolded, to cover. (Did I mention it was on a carpeted floor?) No wonder he was crabby. He spent the rest of the night heaving and gurgling and gulping...
It involved me sleeping while my children decorated the Christmas tree this morning. Saddest thing ever. I've never *not* been involved in decorating the tree. But really, I'm completely spent. (See points 1 through 4.)
It involved missing out on a trip to Prince Albert to attend a special church service where our friends Mike & Christina were being inducted (installed?) as the new senior pastor (Mike) of their church there. We've only been looking forward to this for at least two months. To say we are disappointed to be missing it is the understatement of the century. We did get to Skype with them last night, though, which was a highlight for me.
It involved Dustin's random thoughts about food and politics, all in the span of 5 seconds. At dinner last night: "I'm still hungry. I like this yogurt. We saw Tim Uppal at school today. Is there anything else I can eat?" Tim Uppal is our PC representative (or something like that) for our area. He was apparently visiting the kindergarten class at school yesterday. Of course, when we grill Dustin after school about the things he did and saw, all he can ever come up with is "I ate lunch" and "We had recess". I love Dustin's randomness.
It involved me telling Meaghan that I was so glad she's my girl. She responded by falling on the floor and laughing hysterically.
It involved Joshua stepping up this afternoon to help me make lunch, without any prompting whatsoever. Simple lunch - cheese melted on crackers. But he got out the oven mitts, hopped up on the stepstool, opened the microwave, and melted the cheese on crackers on the plates I had prepared for him.
It involved Spencer finally going in his jolly jumper. My kids seem to be older and older every time I start them. Spencer loved it. Dustin serenaded him.
It involved parent-teacher interviews for both of my boys, thankfully the night before the flu hit. I love my kids' teachers, and I trust them. I love the rapport I have with them, and the absolute investment they are making in my children.
It involved knowing that people care about me, but being so absolutely depleted to formulate a response worthy of their care.
It's involving a lot of reflection, a lot of self-doubt, and a bit of hope. It's involving God's grace and love.
I don't remember much of it, really.
It involved a horrific stomach flu, the details of which I'm sure you'll be happy I'm sparing you from.
It involved a 5-year-old boy getting a really sudden and really severe case of bronchiolitis, resulting in a really sudden trip to a really serious doctor who really suddenly put Dustin on prednisone for the swelling (or something... I don't really understand...)
It involved me thinking I was on the mend, only to find out that I can pass out at the drop of a hat and, three (or is it four?) days later, still find that I can barely put anything in my stomach without feeling absolutely disgusting.
It involved me thinking that since I was on the mend, it would be a good idea for me to actually, you know, HOLD Spencer. But then when I went to walk with my crabby baby, whom I was sure was only crabby because he hadn't seen me much the day before since I was busy visiting the inside of a toilet bowl instead, he decided that he was also not feeling well. There's baby spit-up, and then there's baby-all-out-barfing. I've *never* seen that quantity of stomach contents expelled at one time from such a tiny baby. My entire back was soaked (I'm *so* glad my hair was in a ponytail at the time), and the puddle on the floor required an entire bath towel, completely unfolded, to cover. (Did I mention it was on a carpeted floor?) No wonder he was crabby. He spent the rest of the night heaving and gurgling and gulping...
It involved me sleeping while my children decorated the Christmas tree this morning. Saddest thing ever. I've never *not* been involved in decorating the tree. But really, I'm completely spent. (See points 1 through 4.)
It involved missing out on a trip to Prince Albert to attend a special church service where our friends Mike & Christina were being inducted (installed?) as the new senior pastor (Mike) of their church there. We've only been looking forward to this for at least two months. To say we are disappointed to be missing it is the understatement of the century. We did get to Skype with them last night, though, which was a highlight for me.
It involved Dustin's random thoughts about food and politics, all in the span of 5 seconds. At dinner last night: "I'm still hungry. I like this yogurt. We saw Tim Uppal at school today. Is there anything else I can eat?" Tim Uppal is our PC representative (or something like that) for our area. He was apparently visiting the kindergarten class at school yesterday. Of course, when we grill Dustin after school about the things he did and saw, all he can ever come up with is "I ate lunch" and "We had recess". I love Dustin's randomness.
It involved me telling Meaghan that I was so glad she's my girl. She responded by falling on the floor and laughing hysterically.
It involved Joshua stepping up this afternoon to help me make lunch, without any prompting whatsoever. Simple lunch - cheese melted on crackers. But he got out the oven mitts, hopped up on the stepstool, opened the microwave, and melted the cheese on crackers on the plates I had prepared for him.
It involved Spencer finally going in his jolly jumper. My kids seem to be older and older every time I start them. Spencer loved it. Dustin serenaded him.
It involved parent-teacher interviews for both of my boys, thankfully the night before the flu hit. I love my kids' teachers, and I trust them. I love the rapport I have with them, and the absolute investment they are making in my children.
It involved knowing that people care about me, but being so absolutely depleted to formulate a response worthy of their care.
It's involving a lot of reflection, a lot of self-doubt, and a bit of hope. It's involving God's grace and love.
Monday, November 21, 2011
My own post of of randomness
Yesterday...
I sledded with the big boys. We ran into a family from church while we were at the hill.
I finally got to church again yesterday morning. It had been a while.
Graeme tackled a whole bunch of housework and paperwork while I was gone both times.
I embarked on a learning curve that entailed converting a PC-created document into another completely unrelated format... it took two steps and hours of research, but I did it. Then I got the information filled in by midnight - a task that has been hanging over my head for a while.
Today...
I will make muffins.
I will enjoy my kids.
Spencer was up at 5:30 to party. Honestly, he's my party animal. I don't know how to fix it. I'm bleary-eyed today.
It's report card day.
I am going to dig out my x-country skis.
For the future...
Things are going to change. I can't be specific right now, but desperate times call for desperate measures.
I am going to start x-country skiing with a friend - but not this week. Mary Jane is gone to visit family in Ottawa and won't be back till next weekend. I might try to venture out without her once before she gets back. Christine may also start x-country skiing.
Next weekend, we are travelling with the kids out of province to the "instalment" or "induction" (or whatever it is you call it) of our friends Mike & Christina as they 'officially' become the new lead-pastor-and-his-wife of their new church. Blast it all, I am excited for them, but I miss them terribly.
All the time...
I am thankful for my friends who care so deeply about me... that I can be honest with... who pray for me... and can bear in patience with me as I try to find my footing and send proper e-mails back to them.
I know God loves me.
...but I don't understand Him right now.
I sledded with the big boys. We ran into a family from church while we were at the hill.
I finally got to church again yesterday morning. It had been a while.
Graeme tackled a whole bunch of housework and paperwork while I was gone both times.
I embarked on a learning curve that entailed converting a PC-created document into another completely unrelated format... it took two steps and hours of research, but I did it. Then I got the information filled in by midnight - a task that has been hanging over my head for a while.
Today...
I will make muffins.
I will enjoy my kids.
Spencer was up at 5:30 to party. Honestly, he's my party animal. I don't know how to fix it. I'm bleary-eyed today.
It's report card day.
I am going to dig out my x-country skis.
For the future...
Things are going to change. I can't be specific right now, but desperate times call for desperate measures.
I am going to start x-country skiing with a friend - but not this week. Mary Jane is gone to visit family in Ottawa and won't be back till next weekend. I might try to venture out without her once before she gets back. Christine may also start x-country skiing.
Next weekend, we are travelling with the kids out of province to the "instalment" or "induction" (or whatever it is you call it) of our friends Mike & Christina as they 'officially' become the new lead-pastor-and-his-wife of their new church. Blast it all, I am excited for them, but I miss them terribly.
All the time...
I am thankful for my friends who care so deeply about me... that I can be honest with... who pray for me... and can bear in patience with me as I try to find my footing and send proper e-mails back to them.
I know God loves me.
...but I don't understand Him right now.
Wednesday, November 16, 2011
Bloggy vacation
Hey...
I know I haven't posted much lately. I've been very sporadic and, if I'm not posting about something funny my kids said or did, then I'm posting really downer stuff.
It's 'cuz, well, that's how life is for me right now.
Yes, my kids say pretty funny things. And they are incredibly sweet and lovely most of the time. And I love them to the moon and back.
But me? I'm broken. Things are not working right physically for me since Spencer arrived, and I feel like I'm drowning.
The victories I've won in the last 3-4 years? I know they happened, but I can't for the life of me figure out how to get back there. I mean, I have a sort-of idea, but logistically, I can't make it happen. And God has chosen, for whatever reason, to keep His healing hand off of me. There's nothing I'd like better than to be able to function properly again.
So, I'm going to give myself some grace to not blog anything "life-like" for a while. At least nothing deep. I have a trip to Disneyland to post pictures of... and I might post snippets of my kids' funny stuff here... but not much about me unless it's something earth-shattering. I'm tired of being the person that never has anything uplifting to say. So if I can't say anything nice...
I'll try not to say it at all. Because nobody wants to read a blog filled with misery.
I know I haven't posted much lately. I've been very sporadic and, if I'm not posting about something funny my kids said or did, then I'm posting really downer stuff.
It's 'cuz, well, that's how life is for me right now.
Yes, my kids say pretty funny things. And they are incredibly sweet and lovely most of the time. And I love them to the moon and back.
But me? I'm broken. Things are not working right physically for me since Spencer arrived, and I feel like I'm drowning.
The victories I've won in the last 3-4 years? I know they happened, but I can't for the life of me figure out how to get back there. I mean, I have a sort-of idea, but logistically, I can't make it happen. And God has chosen, for whatever reason, to keep His healing hand off of me. There's nothing I'd like better than to be able to function properly again.
So, I'm going to give myself some grace to not blog anything "life-like" for a while. At least nothing deep. I have a trip to Disneyland to post pictures of... and I might post snippets of my kids' funny stuff here... but not much about me unless it's something earth-shattering. I'm tired of being the person that never has anything uplifting to say. So if I can't say anything nice...
I'll try not to say it at all. Because nobody wants to read a blog filled with misery.
Saturday, November 12, 2011
Discipline tactics
It's been a few rough days with Meaghan. Lots of "I don't WANT to!" and "I WANT it!"
Dinner was interesting tonight.
Meaghan had been misbehaving at the table. We kept our cool.
Daddy: "Meaghan, do you want a time-out?"
Meaghan (sweetly): "No, I wanna puppy."
Discipline? Out the window. In its place were chuckles that we were fighting to choke back...
Dinner was interesting tonight.
Meaghan had been misbehaving at the table. We kept our cool.
Daddy: "Meaghan, do you want a time-out?"
Meaghan (sweetly): "No, I wanna puppy."
Discipline? Out the window. In its place were chuckles that we were fighting to choke back...
Tuesday, November 1, 2011
Joshua and the Forgotten Spectacles
This morning, shortly after Joshua got on the bus, I noticed that he had left his glasses at home again. I texted his bus driver and asked her to please let Joshua know that I would bring his glasses to the school office (so that Joshua wouldn't fret and need to make a call home)... I brought his glasses to his school, and waited in the van while Dustin ran them into the office...
When I got home, I had to call the school about something else. I asked the secretary if Joshua had seen the note I'd attached to his glasses case.
He had. And apparently he wasn't impressed.
The note read: "Dear Joshua, This time it'll cost you. Love, Mommy. xoxo."
Well, he shook in his boots all day long. Well, not really all day long, but as soon as he got home I asked him how well he could see today. He paused and got a goofy "You caught me" grin on his face, and remembering the note, he said, "Mommy, how much money do I have to pay you?"
My answer?
"Oh sweetie, you don't have to pay me MONEY... but you can unload the entire dishwasher for me!" (Normally, Dustin does have of it.)
Next time the penalty will be more harsh. He didn't like he penalty, but he was a good sport. He agreed that the penalty was appropriate and sufficient.
Some would argue that a better lesson would be to not bring his glasses to school at all, and let him suffer through the day. I wanna beg to differ on that one - he wouldn't have learned anything school-oriented at all for not being able to see, and would have ended up with a headache - which would have affect the tasks he had to take care of at home later in the day.
This way, he knows that the school secretary saw the note (I had taped it to the outside of his glasses case). He was able to read the smartboard in school today and do all his schoolwork properly. And, he got to think all day long about what the payment would be. Then when he got home, he had to spend an amount of time doing extra work relative in quantity to the amount of time I had to take out of my day to drive to the school. The other kids got to play while he worked.
Paying me money would've been too easy. And yes, next time it'll be the whole dishwasher as well as sweeping under the table, then WASHING under the table, by hand!! (Believe me, with 3 messy children at the table, it gets kinda gross under there in a hurry...)
When I got home, I had to call the school about something else. I asked the secretary if Joshua had seen the note I'd attached to his glasses case.
He had. And apparently he wasn't impressed.
The note read: "Dear Joshua, This time it'll cost you. Love, Mommy. xoxo."
Well, he shook in his boots all day long. Well, not really all day long, but as soon as he got home I asked him how well he could see today. He paused and got a goofy "You caught me" grin on his face, and remembering the note, he said, "Mommy, how much money do I have to pay you?"
My answer?
"Oh sweetie, you don't have to pay me MONEY... but you can unload the entire dishwasher for me!" (Normally, Dustin does have of it.)
Next time the penalty will be more harsh. He didn't like he penalty, but he was a good sport. He agreed that the penalty was appropriate and sufficient.
Some would argue that a better lesson would be to not bring his glasses to school at all, and let him suffer through the day. I wanna beg to differ on that one - he wouldn't have learned anything school-oriented at all for not being able to see, and would have ended up with a headache - which would have affect the tasks he had to take care of at home later in the day.
This way, he knows that the school secretary saw the note (I had taped it to the outside of his glasses case). He was able to read the smartboard in school today and do all his schoolwork properly. And, he got to think all day long about what the payment would be. Then when he got home, he had to spend an amount of time doing extra work relative in quantity to the amount of time I had to take out of my day to drive to the school. The other kids got to play while he worked.
Paying me money would've been too easy. And yes, next time it'll be the whole dishwasher as well as sweeping under the table, then WASHING under the table, by hand!! (Believe me, with 3 messy children at the table, it gets kinda gross under there in a hurry...)
Thursday, October 20, 2011
Not sure I'm strong enough...
About a year and a half ago - maybe a touch more - I went through this phase with Meaghan. I thought I'd written a big blog post about it, but apparently it was too traumatic, and I didn't go through with a detailed post.
Meaghan was around 8 months old when she started her biting-during-nursing phase. She started out with little nips here and there, but it escalated, then one day I realized she'd gotten to 20-30 times a day. *every day*.
With the boys - getting their biting under control was pretty quick. Joshua took about a week to figure it out; Dustin took about 2 weeks. They were both around 8 months old at the time. Meaghan took three months. It was harrowing; three months of not enjoying our nursing relationship at all... but I believed in it enough to fight for it. Things eventually got better. I think I had at least a dozen tricks up my sleeve, and used every single one of them. Finally I gave in and spent the $20 on an amber teething necklace; problem completely resolved within 36 hours.
Spencer has been at it for about 2 weeks now. He just started with one nip every couple of days... now it's *every* feed.
Those little razors in his mouth are SHARP!!
Actually, come to think of it, he was clamping down on me before those teeth even popped through... he got them at 4 months. Two teeth in one day. So, I guess it's been almost 6 weeks of sporadic clamping, but two weeks of "oh my goodness, I think we have a problem here".
I feel like I'm reliving every moment of what I went through with Meaghan - the tears, the frustration, the emotions... not to mention the hormones raging from suddenly not nursing the same as I was before... UGH!!
I'm not sure I'm in a spot where I can go through this again - although I know I will fight for it - but still. I've had so much going on with him already, and with my other kids, and I am *spent*. Most of the time, I don't feel strong enough to fight.
Maybe he wants real food...?
Meaghan was around 8 months old when she started her biting-during-nursing phase. She started out with little nips here and there, but it escalated, then one day I realized she'd gotten to 20-30 times a day. *every day*.
With the boys - getting their biting under control was pretty quick. Joshua took about a week to figure it out; Dustin took about 2 weeks. They were both around 8 months old at the time. Meaghan took three months. It was harrowing; three months of not enjoying our nursing relationship at all... but I believed in it enough to fight for it. Things eventually got better. I think I had at least a dozen tricks up my sleeve, and used every single one of them. Finally I gave in and spent the $20 on an amber teething necklace; problem completely resolved within 36 hours.
Spencer has been at it for about 2 weeks now. He just started with one nip every couple of days... now it's *every* feed.
Those little razors in his mouth are SHARP!!
Actually, come to think of it, he was clamping down on me before those teeth even popped through... he got them at 4 months. Two teeth in one day. So, I guess it's been almost 6 weeks of sporadic clamping, but two weeks of "oh my goodness, I think we have a problem here".
I feel like I'm reliving every moment of what I went through with Meaghan - the tears, the frustration, the emotions... not to mention the hormones raging from suddenly not nursing the same as I was before... UGH!!
I'm not sure I'm in a spot where I can go through this again - although I know I will fight for it - but still. I've had so much going on with him already, and with my other kids, and I am *spent*. Most of the time, I don't feel strong enough to fight.
Maybe he wants real food...?
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