Today it's Saturday. It's one of those days where you are being stretched in 8 different directions, but there are only 5 people in the family and you are thinking 'how is that even possible?' I do a lot of that kind of thinking because the sanity is being sucked out of my brain. And if I don't talk to myself, then it's proof that I've lost my wits.
A few weeks ago I had planned for a haircut and to get my hair colored. Romania was having his last basketball game and pizza party. That was it. My appointment was at 8 in the morning and Romania's game was at 11.45. Plenty of time to do both things and then come home and relax in the afternoon. *snort* Why would I EVER think that would happen?! Within the last week, we added a photoshoot for Egypt and two funerals. We also had to contend with Holland not wanting to be doing any of the things we needed to do. I postponed my color and kept the haircut. Came back and picked up Egypt for her photoshoot at 10. Meanwhile, Super Hero got the boys ready for Romania's game and pizza party and Holland was dropped at my mom's house where (unbeknownst to him) he was also attending a funeral for a dear friend who died last Sunday. Super Hero went to the game with Romania and got back about an hour after I arrived home from the photoshoot. My mom then called and said the funeral was over, but Holland didn't want to ride the tram in Portland, so they would just bring him home. Romania didn't want to go to his pizza party so he stayed home and my parents took Egypt on the tram ride.
Confused yet? Yeah. Me either. I've got it all figured out. Also, my sister is gone for the weekend and I have to bring all her teaching stuff to the co-op on Monday. Plus bring (and MAKE snacks) and I'll probably make something for her, too since she had snack but didn't realize she was going to be gone. Egypt has basketball practice Monday night. I have another appointment with the therapist on Tuesday. Wednesday it's Awanas. Thursday I have to pick up Holland early from school and we both have doctor appointments. Friday is a special Bunco night for a friend who moved to the east coast a few years back that used to be in our group. Somewhere in there I need to plan meals, organize the school week, actually TEACH school and conquer Holland's horrible defiance and disobedience.
Currently I'm interviewing for positions available. The pay is minimal (none). But when you're done you can write a book on your experience and there'll be nothing like it out there.
Saturday, January 28, 2012
Friday, January 20, 2012
This is for you, Kris
This is for my friend Kris, who says I never update my blog. I'm updating RIGHT now.
So I'm seeing a new therapist for Holland and I have to say I'm loving all the housework I'm getting done. I just put my feet up and, BAM! three little punks argue with each other and then are sucked into the housework vortex. The new rule is if any of them argue, fight, hit, don't do a chore or something they're asked to in a timely manner, or general naughtiness, I assign "repair work". They have to repair our relationship by performing housework or chores for me. They all love it so much. Each one has complained that it does nothing for them. I say so sweetly that it's not meant to help them, but to repair my relationship with them.
The first time Holland really broke the rule by hitting me, an automatic hour, he had to pick up everything he had trashed and then do his repair work. I made a list and just propped my feet up on the couch and played on my phone. See, the key is delivery. The therapist says my reaction plays a huge part in getting Holland's behavior to improve. Now, I already knew this, but it's getting to that point that was the hard part. When you are faced with a kid who complains and yells from the moment he wakes up until he goes to bed; who you are in constant fear of him hitting you or hitting his siblings; or destroying something in the house, then it gets really tiring trying to stay calm and pleasant in that kind of environment. My reaction is supposed to be "oh, honey, first you need to do your repair work, and then I'd be happy to let you do the computer." It was interesting, though, this first time he had an hour's worth of work. By the end of the hour, he was chatting pleasantly, asking me things, crossing the jobs off the list. I was totally ready to give him the priviledges back.
Still, he gripes and complains every time we start a new repair work session. He's adament he's NOT going to do it. I just let him wander around and when he tries to do something like the computer, or tv, I physically block him and say sweetly, "remember your repair work and then you're free to do the computer". He gets so mad and tells me to stop talking in "that" voice. It makes me want to laugh because he's totally noticing the difference! I've had to also make him wait to eat dinner because he had done something and of course that meant me stopping eating as well. That's the fun part. I get to suspend whatever I'm doing and make sure he's doing the work. He can get very controlling over meal time. With the gluten free diet, my cooking has changed quite a bit. He doesn't always like what I cook and many times I've just let him make himself something to avoid the argument. The new therapist probably wanted to crawl out of her skin when I told her that. "No, no, no, dear. He eats what you all eat." "I know, but he physically pushes me around and tries to eat something else." "Then you stand in front of him and prevent him from getting it." So here I am in the kitchen, trying to wrestle away food from an almost 13 year-old who won't eat chicken tortilla soup! It's nuts. But, after a few times of this, he did sit down and munch on a few things. Cried the entire time. Made dinner so pleasant. What chef doesn't want their patrons to cry over their meal as a way to thank them?
My favorite repair work was the time he had to sweep both the kitchen and nook floors. Then I had him on his hands and knees mopping just the kitchen floor. When he was done, he asked what he should do with the water. I said, "oh, just leave it on the counter. You'll probably need it later." Sure enough, he needed it. When he had to clean the nook floor, he picked up the bowl of used soapy water and said, "is it okay if it's cold?" " Oh SURE!", I said. Then today, his repair work involved washing all the doors, inside and out. Then I had him wash every single post going up the stairs and the whole molding from top to bottom. Nice and shiny now.
Just waiting for who'll mess up tomorrow so I can get something else cleaned.
So I'm seeing a new therapist for Holland and I have to say I'm loving all the housework I'm getting done. I just put my feet up and, BAM! three little punks argue with each other and then are sucked into the housework vortex. The new rule is if any of them argue, fight, hit, don't do a chore or something they're asked to in a timely manner, or general naughtiness, I assign "repair work". They have to repair our relationship by performing housework or chores for me. They all love it so much. Each one has complained that it does nothing for them. I say so sweetly that it's not meant to help them, but to repair my relationship with them.
The first time Holland really broke the rule by hitting me, an automatic hour, he had to pick up everything he had trashed and then do his repair work. I made a list and just propped my feet up on the couch and played on my phone. See, the key is delivery. The therapist says my reaction plays a huge part in getting Holland's behavior to improve. Now, I already knew this, but it's getting to that point that was the hard part. When you are faced with a kid who complains and yells from the moment he wakes up until he goes to bed; who you are in constant fear of him hitting you or hitting his siblings; or destroying something in the house, then it gets really tiring trying to stay calm and pleasant in that kind of environment. My reaction is supposed to be "oh, honey, first you need to do your repair work, and then I'd be happy to let you do the computer." It was interesting, though, this first time he had an hour's worth of work. By the end of the hour, he was chatting pleasantly, asking me things, crossing the jobs off the list. I was totally ready to give him the priviledges back.
Still, he gripes and complains every time we start a new repair work session. He's adament he's NOT going to do it. I just let him wander around and when he tries to do something like the computer, or tv, I physically block him and say sweetly, "remember your repair work and then you're free to do the computer". He gets so mad and tells me to stop talking in "that" voice. It makes me want to laugh because he's totally noticing the difference! I've had to also make him wait to eat dinner because he had done something and of course that meant me stopping eating as well. That's the fun part. I get to suspend whatever I'm doing and make sure he's doing the work. He can get very controlling over meal time. With the gluten free diet, my cooking has changed quite a bit. He doesn't always like what I cook and many times I've just let him make himself something to avoid the argument. The new therapist probably wanted to crawl out of her skin when I told her that. "No, no, no, dear. He eats what you all eat." "I know, but he physically pushes me around and tries to eat something else." "Then you stand in front of him and prevent him from getting it." So here I am in the kitchen, trying to wrestle away food from an almost 13 year-old who won't eat chicken tortilla soup! It's nuts. But, after a few times of this, he did sit down and munch on a few things. Cried the entire time. Made dinner so pleasant. What chef doesn't want their patrons to cry over their meal as a way to thank them?
My favorite repair work was the time he had to sweep both the kitchen and nook floors. Then I had him on his hands and knees mopping just the kitchen floor. When he was done, he asked what he should do with the water. I said, "oh, just leave it on the counter. You'll probably need it later." Sure enough, he needed it. When he had to clean the nook floor, he picked up the bowl of used soapy water and said, "is it okay if it's cold?" " Oh SURE!", I said. Then today, his repair work involved washing all the doors, inside and out. Then I had him wash every single post going up the stairs and the whole molding from top to bottom. Nice and shiny now.
Just waiting for who'll mess up tomorrow so I can get something else cleaned.
Monday, January 16, 2012
So long, Betty
It only took one more day for Betty to get snatched up by some nice gentleman that I assume was going to treat her nice. He probably had a toasty warm house all ready for her. Some ice cream for her freezer. Some milk and yogurt for her fridge. Who am I kidding? You could tell the moment he drove up in his dumpty Toyota truck that he was going to recycle every last piece of her. But he humored me in an email on Saturday morning and said he'd love to "come pick up the ol' gal and give her a new home". I'm just glad she's out of my driveway and no more little kids are wandering around our property looking for ways to get stuck inside an old fridge.
Friday, January 13, 2012
Betty
You've got to hand it to craigslist. You meet - or more often than not, DON'T meet -some very interesting people. We've put ads on before. Sometimes things are for sale and sometimes things are for free. I've discovered that it doesn't matter if money is involved, or something is free, there are flakes from both neighborhoods.
Recently I posted about a free refrigerator that we have had since the beginning of time. Well, the beginning of OUR time, which is 20 years. When Super Hero bought our first house, it came equipped with this fabulous retro fridge. Don't get excited. In this case retro just means old. The thing was pitiful. It was so old that the freezer was inside the fridge part. It had these wonky shelves that bowed when you put a gallon of milk on them. And the freezer just accumulated ice so quickly it was a pain to defrost. The space just kept shrinking and shrinking every time we opened it. I think the food actually froze inside the ice at some point. When we sold the house though, a nice new fridge took Betty's place, and since that's what the new homeowner saw, we couldn't do a switch with Betty and had to bring her with us.
We've moved several times and she's been in our garage here for about 14 years. My mom finally took pity on us and just gave us the fridge she bought on craigslist last summer for when my brother and his family came to visit. Their brood took over the "Barn" where we grew up and it only made sense to have a fridge in there for them and their six kids. I really do need the second fridge because I have to store all the different gluten free flours there. Otherwise the moths keep getting it and then I have to gut the pantry. And, well, that's just not how I want to spend ANY day.
Super Hero moved Betty to the driveway. (Side note here: he does NOT know that I named her. Let's just leave that dog alone.) One of my VERY concerned neighbors (and if you know me, you know this is exactly the opposite of what I mean) came over to tell me that I needed to put this big lock on it so kids wouldn't climb into it. And he sure hoped the police didn't come by and see it. Helpful, right? So I looked online for a way to get rid of Betty. Recycling is a waste of time. They try to lure you with 40 bucks. Sounds great, right? Don't be fooled. I'm here to school ya. You have to clean the fridge (um, no thanks), make sure your fridge meets the size requirements (yeah, it's probably within that size range, sir), make an appointment to have someone come out and inspect your unit, has to be plugged in and shown to be working (???), and then you have to show that you've replace that unit with an "Energy Efficient" model. I don't even know what that means. What, is there some big label on the side of appliances that says 'I'm energy efficient'? So, yeah, not really worth 40 bucks.
That's where the craigslist ad comes in. I thought I'd be all clever and try to get people's attention. I mean, reading ads on craigslist is like reading a phone book. Here's the ad (I'm just pasting what I wrote because when I take the ad down, it likely will disappear)
Find Betty the Refrigerator a New Home (Oregon City)
--------------------------------------------------------------------------------
Date: 2012-01-11, 2:09PM PST
Reply to: sale-sa7uu-2795146952@craigslist.org [Errors when replying to ads?]
--------------------------------------------------------------------------------
We've traveled far with this refrigerator and it's time to find Betty a new home. She's probably 60 years old, so you figure out what her new purpose is. Her freezer is inside the fridge part (so don't tell her if you're just using her for her parts) She's sitting in our driveway attracting small children, so we need her to move on as soon as possible.
Within an hour I had 5 people lined up and ready to haul her off. Of course for some reason I felt the need to go in order and be all diplomatic about it. So I offered it to the first person. She thought I was in Molalla. Which you can clearly see by the title, that I am NOT in Molalla. The third guy is the first person who used Betty's name. He said, "call Manny to come get Betty the freezer" and immediately I fell in love with him. But alas, he was third on the list. So I emailed the second guy. Who turned out to be quite needy and wanted a picture and phone call. Excuse me. This fridge is free and yeah, it's free. By this time I'm irritated that people are so demanding for a free refrigerator and should be begging me, not making all these requirements of me. I did get two cute emails last night, both from women. They both said that although they weren't interested in Betty, they thought it was the "cutest" and "cleverest" ad they'd ever seen on craigslist. Awww. Just here to throw a smile your way and to prevent the boredome of reading a phone book.
So. This morning, I penned an email (can I say "penned" when referring to an email? I think there might be a need for a new word in the dictionary), and sent it to I think 9 people who had inquired about Betty. I loved all who referred to her by name. Here's the email I sent:
Good Morning!
I appreciate all the emails regarding finding Betty a new home. There have been several no-shows and Betty is getting awfully cold out there. She belongs to the first person that finds his or her way over to rescue her from the elements.
Good luck soldiers.
So far no one has ventured over here. Maybe I scared them off with my demands :-)
Who knows, with craigslist. It's a strange new world out there.
Recently I posted about a free refrigerator that we have had since the beginning of time. Well, the beginning of OUR time, which is 20 years. When Super Hero bought our first house, it came equipped with this fabulous retro fridge. Don't get excited. In this case retro just means old. The thing was pitiful. It was so old that the freezer was inside the fridge part. It had these wonky shelves that bowed when you put a gallon of milk on them. And the freezer just accumulated ice so quickly it was a pain to defrost. The space just kept shrinking and shrinking every time we opened it. I think the food actually froze inside the ice at some point. When we sold the house though, a nice new fridge took Betty's place, and since that's what the new homeowner saw, we couldn't do a switch with Betty and had to bring her with us.
We've moved several times and she's been in our garage here for about 14 years. My mom finally took pity on us and just gave us the fridge she bought on craigslist last summer for when my brother and his family came to visit. Their brood took over the "Barn" where we grew up and it only made sense to have a fridge in there for them and their six kids. I really do need the second fridge because I have to store all the different gluten free flours there. Otherwise the moths keep getting it and then I have to gut the pantry. And, well, that's just not how I want to spend ANY day.
Super Hero moved Betty to the driveway. (Side note here: he does NOT know that I named her. Let's just leave that dog alone.) One of my VERY concerned neighbors (and if you know me, you know this is exactly the opposite of what I mean) came over to tell me that I needed to put this big lock on it so kids wouldn't climb into it. And he sure hoped the police didn't come by and see it. Helpful, right? So I looked online for a way to get rid of Betty. Recycling is a waste of time. They try to lure you with 40 bucks. Sounds great, right? Don't be fooled. I'm here to school ya. You have to clean the fridge (um, no thanks), make sure your fridge meets the size requirements (yeah, it's probably within that size range, sir), make an appointment to have someone come out and inspect your unit, has to be plugged in and shown to be working (???), and then you have to show that you've replace that unit with an "Energy Efficient" model. I don't even know what that means. What, is there some big label on the side of appliances that says 'I'm energy efficient'? So, yeah, not really worth 40 bucks.
That's where the craigslist ad comes in. I thought I'd be all clever and try to get people's attention. I mean, reading ads on craigslist is like reading a phone book. Here's the ad (I'm just pasting what I wrote because when I take the ad down, it likely will disappear)
Find Betty the Refrigerator a New Home (Oregon City)
--------------------------------------------------------------------------------
Date: 2012-01-11, 2:09PM PST
Reply to: sale-sa7uu-2795146952@craigslist.org [Errors when replying to ads?]
--------------------------------------------------------------------------------
We've traveled far with this refrigerator and it's time to find Betty a new home. She's probably 60 years old, so you figure out what her new purpose is. Her freezer is inside the fridge part (so don't tell her if you're just using her for her parts) She's sitting in our driveway attracting small children, so we need her to move on as soon as possible.
Within an hour I had 5 people lined up and ready to haul her off. Of course for some reason I felt the need to go in order and be all diplomatic about it. So I offered it to the first person. She thought I was in Molalla. Which you can clearly see by the title, that I am NOT in Molalla. The third guy is the first person who used Betty's name. He said, "call Manny to come get Betty the freezer" and immediately I fell in love with him. But alas, he was third on the list. So I emailed the second guy. Who turned out to be quite needy and wanted a picture and phone call. Excuse me. This fridge is free and yeah, it's free. By this time I'm irritated that people are so demanding for a free refrigerator and should be begging me, not making all these requirements of me. I did get two cute emails last night, both from women. They both said that although they weren't interested in Betty, they thought it was the "cutest" and "cleverest" ad they'd ever seen on craigslist. Awww. Just here to throw a smile your way and to prevent the boredome of reading a phone book.
So. This morning, I penned an email (can I say "penned" when referring to an email? I think there might be a need for a new word in the dictionary), and sent it to I think 9 people who had inquired about Betty. I loved all who referred to her by name. Here's the email I sent:
Good Morning!
I appreciate all the emails regarding finding Betty a new home. There have been several no-shows and Betty is getting awfully cold out there. She belongs to the first person that finds his or her way over to rescue her from the elements.
Good luck soldiers.
So far no one has ventured over here. Maybe I scared them off with my demands :-)
Who knows, with craigslist. It's a strange new world out there.
Sunday, January 1, 2012
It Must Be Christmas
I don't have to look at the calendar to know it's Christmas. It has nothing to do with shopping, or cold weather or putting up decorations. No. In our family it's about getting sick. It's all about getting violently sick. About a week before Christmas, I heard a noise in the middle of the night. I just assumed it was Holland. He's famous for getting up in the middle of the night. Then I hear this knock on my door and it's Romania saying he'd just thrown up. He did that probably three more times before morning and then just hung out on the couch all day. At one point, Egypt got him a big plastic bowl in case he didn't make it off the couch. He almost didn't, but luckily each time he was able to hold it til he got there. He wanted to eat so badly, but kept throwing it up. He was pretty wasted the rest of the day, but slept good. The next day he seemed to have improved, but I wouldn't let him do anything for fear of the next wave of nausea.
Then about 2 days later, my mom took the three kids out to see a movie. When I picked them up to go grab some food, Egypt kept complaining about not feeling good. She said her tummy hurt. I said it's probably just because you're hungry. We were at McDonald's. Now when a child doesn't feel like eating McDonald's, stop. And think about it. That's not what I did. I said, "oh you'll feel better after you eat something" and continued to order food. She looks at me, her face almost green and says she needs to go to the bathroom. So I had my mom finish the ordering and took her to the bathroom inside the play area. We barely made it into the bathroom and she vomited right into the toilet. Great aim, I tell 'ya. She kept apologizing and I just told her it was alright. She didn't have to apologize for being sick! So I came out of the bathroom and told mom to have them pack all the food up and we needed to go home. She threw up probably 4 or 5 more times that day. She was better by the next day, but just like Romania, I wouldn't let her do anything else. Did I mention that this whole time I was sick? Not the throwing up kind. Let's just leave it at that.
Then, right on cue about two days later and right in time for Christmas, Holland got sick. Throwing up, not wanting to eat anything, but hungry and complaining about everything. He's not a very fun sick person. Egypt apologizes. Romania cries and sleeps and Holland just gets grumpier. Didn't think THAT was possible.
I missed Christmas Eve service at church because I was so wiped out from all the taking care of everyone that I hadn't recovered. I also decided to stay home from the in-law's traditional "let's-eat-out-of-small-tea-lit-bowls-of-oil-with-16-people-who-are-all-trying-to-cook-tiny-pieces-of-meat" fiasco. Not to mention that we were told to feed the kids BEFORE coming to enjoy dinner. That makes as much sense as inviting people over for a birthday celebration and telling them to bring their own cake. I'm thinking next year we'll just bring pizza for us while they stand around with their tiny pieces of meat. Can you tell this isn't the first time this has happened?
So Christmas is over. Whew. Everyone is better. Oh wait. Now we're on round two of the sickness. It has mutated into something different. No more throwing up. But now it's coughing, fever, congestion. I just love the holidays. It's the only way I can tell it's flu season.
Then about 2 days later, my mom took the three kids out to see a movie. When I picked them up to go grab some food, Egypt kept complaining about not feeling good. She said her tummy hurt. I said it's probably just because you're hungry. We were at McDonald's. Now when a child doesn't feel like eating McDonald's, stop. And think about it. That's not what I did. I said, "oh you'll feel better after you eat something" and continued to order food. She looks at me, her face almost green and says she needs to go to the bathroom. So I had my mom finish the ordering and took her to the bathroom inside the play area. We barely made it into the bathroom and she vomited right into the toilet. Great aim, I tell 'ya. She kept apologizing and I just told her it was alright. She didn't have to apologize for being sick! So I came out of the bathroom and told mom to have them pack all the food up and we needed to go home. She threw up probably 4 or 5 more times that day. She was better by the next day, but just like Romania, I wouldn't let her do anything else. Did I mention that this whole time I was sick? Not the throwing up kind. Let's just leave it at that.
Then, right on cue about two days later and right in time for Christmas, Holland got sick. Throwing up, not wanting to eat anything, but hungry and complaining about everything. He's not a very fun sick person. Egypt apologizes. Romania cries and sleeps and Holland just gets grumpier. Didn't think THAT was possible.
I missed Christmas Eve service at church because I was so wiped out from all the taking care of everyone that I hadn't recovered. I also decided to stay home from the in-law's traditional "let's-eat-out-of-small-tea-lit-bowls-of-oil-with-16-people-who-are-all-trying-to-cook-tiny-pieces-of-meat" fiasco. Not to mention that we were told to feed the kids BEFORE coming to enjoy dinner. That makes as much sense as inviting people over for a birthday celebration and telling them to bring their own cake. I'm thinking next year we'll just bring pizza for us while they stand around with their tiny pieces of meat. Can you tell this isn't the first time this has happened?
So Christmas is over. Whew. Everyone is better. Oh wait. Now we're on round two of the sickness. It has mutated into something different. No more throwing up. But now it's coughing, fever, congestion. I just love the holidays. It's the only way I can tell it's flu season.
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