Random Thoughts #42

Tuesday, November 10, 2009

1. The antibiotics are working wonderfully. Even the residual phlegm and cough are beginning to subside. Health is a wonderful thing.
2. I'm already overwhelmed with the Christmas preparations. I've usually already taken the holiday card photos by now and have the card at least partially designed. I'm panicking about this a little and at the same time I know I can whip up the card in one night once the photos are taken. Ack! The photos! Is there any worse torture than trying to get kids to take a decent photo for the Christmas card? I think not.
3. Two of my kids are now sleeping commando per doctor's recommendations. I'm pretty sure she's created a couple of monsters who have learned a whole new way of life.
4. I'm supposed to help in K's class again today. I'm looking forward to getting to know these kids better. I know a lot of the kids in M's class but I'm still fuzzy on K's classmates so far.
5. M and K went to the dentist yesterday. They actually like going to the dentist. Are my kids completely weird? Craig and I decided we need to go to a pediatric dentist so that we get cheers and applause when we have no cavities, and also so we get to pick a prize when we're done. I'm thinking little bottles of wine would be a good prize.
6. I have to visit the dentist this afternoon. It's usually relatively painless, but I feel chastised every time I go because I'm not doing everything I'm supposed to be doing. Story of my life.
7. I'm becoming very good at procrastinating and pretending that I have nothing to do.
8. How did it become November already?
9. I appreciate all who emailed me about being a reader if I turned the blog private. I've decided to keep it public for now, but I'll keep your emails should I change my mind. Again.
10. I actually finished reading the book for my book club way in advance of the meeting. (being sick helps with that.) I also finished another book while sick. And started another. Then quit that one because it was too bizarre for me. Then started another and am reading that one still. Except when I picked it up to read it I thought the author was female because the first name was Jan. Yeah. Not a woman.
11. Baby D has a very thin threshold between crying and laughing. It's wonderful.

Growth and Denial

Monday, November 9, 2009

My kids want for nothing. We are very lucky. Their toys litter the house, our home bursting at the seams with of the things we've accumulated over the years. Their closets are full, their dresser drawers barely close if they close at all.

The thing about all those clothes (though they do have a lot of clothes) is that probably one-third of the clothes in their closets and drawers do not fit them. They outgrow the clothes before I am willing to admit that they've outgrown them.

As I get their clothes ready for the week, my fingers brush over various shirts and pants that are noticeably too small for the child that once wore them and choose the shirts that my head knows still fit them. Instead of removing the too-small items from the closets and the drawers, they lay there, always the bridesmaid, because my heart can't seem to keep up with the fact that my children continue to grow and outgrow, sometimes at an alarming rate.

My head and heart play a tug-of-war, wanting the kids to be able to wear the cute new clothes I've bought them yet still wishing they were small enough to wear some of the old favorites. This is the reason that I have a few of each child's baby clothes tucked in boxes. I will save them indefinitely. Each child will receive their boxes of keepsakes as they get married or at some future date...or if they're not interested in that sort of stuff, they'll find it when they clear out our house when we're gone. (Cheerful!)

Eventually I come to terms with the hopelessly too-small clothes and remove them from the closets and drawers. M's clothes are mostly packed away again, saved for Ms. D's use if they are not too worn or stained. K's clothes, now that our family is complete, are packed in boxes labeled SALE. Still, as I pack the various boxes, my hands caress the clothes, smoothing the wrinkles, remembering.

Of course it isn't the clothes that I want to hold on to. It's these children. I want to see them grow and develop and mature into the people I know they will be (and are becoming) yet I miss the days gone by. I miss M calling grapes "bapes." I miss K asking for his "ginkie." I already miss how tiny Ms. D was even though she's still a peanut.

So the only thing left to do is live in the moment. See my children for who they are today and enjoy these gifts that today brings. Even as my children frustrate me, they make me smile, and often laugh a deep, bubbly laugh that comes from nowhere. These todays will become the yesterdays that I long for. So I'd better enjoy them.

Simply Joy Sunday #42

Sunday, November 8, 2009

I've enjoyed celebrating the little joys in life every Sunday here at Cool Zebras. This Sunday my joys are very simple:

I love drugs. Especially drugs that make the searing pain in my throat go away. In fact, that's another simple joy: being able to swallow without fear of the razor blades scraping my throat. Also, not drooling all over my pillow because I don't want to swallow.

I'd much rather recover from abdominal surgery than to have strep throat. This is my second round in 9 weeks. Gee, this winter is going to be F.U.N!

Anyone still playing along? Leave me your link (and don't forget to link here!) and I'll link all the participants here as usual.

Playing Along:

Athena's Armoury

Mrs. Dragon's Wares

Whatever Happened To Manners?

Saturday, November 7, 2009

Sometimes progress and technology are very bad things. People no longer connect beyond a superficial level. You used to know your butcher, your grocer, your postal carrier. I don't know the man who delivers my mail. I have a slight relationship with some of the people at one branch of our local post office, merely because I choose to go there to ship packages when people buy stuff from my shop.

This lack of connection seems to allow people to forget common manners...or maybe it's just my city. I guess when I've been in other cities the salespeople have been more pleasant. My city is full of people who have a strong sense of entitlement.

Clerks in stores no longer think it's necessary to thank you for your purchase. Instead, they hand you your receipt and say "here you go" as though they are doing you a favor.

I went into one store for the first time ever (so it was a liquor store, so?) and the clerk barked at me "what's your birth date?" I looked at him incredulously because it's quite obvious I am older than 21. I thought he was joking. No. "What's your birth date?" he barked at me again. The cash register apparently required him to enter a birth date before he could ring in the sale. I told him the date, he took my money and said "here you go" as he handed me my receipt. I said "you're welcome" as he rolled his eyes and thought I was a bitch.

Honestly, how hard is it to treat people nicely? If you don't like your job, find another one. If that's not possible, find some joy in the work you are currently doing. Why spread the misery? Sometimes all it takes is a shift in your own perspective to make a job more enjoyable.

How could this exchange at the store gone better?

Clerk: "Hello" [smiling] "Could I have your birth date please?"
Me: [pleasantly surprised that someone is courteous] "suchandsuchadate" (Did you really think I'd post that info? Come on!)
Clerk: "Thank you" [rings up sale] "That will be $10.35."
[I pay.]
Clerk: "Here's your receipt. Thank you!"

{end scene}

It's a similar tale at other stores that want to know your zip code so they can track where their customers are coming from. "Zip code?" the cashier will demand. Maybe it takes longer to be polite, but what's a few words to make an exchange better? "Could you please tell me your zip code?" sets the tone for the transaction at a much nicer note.

I worked in retail for I think 14 years. I can admit I wasn't always happy to be at my job, but I always thanked the customer and I almost never acted like I was bothered they were there. (I say almost never because there was that one time, a story for another day.)

Is it really just my city that has rude salespeople? (Although the people at our post office are really fantastic. I'm thinking I need to do something to acknowledge that.) Do you agree that technology and the impersonal nature of the Internet is to blame for the decline of simple manners?

Just a Little Tip, Take a Little Tip From Me

Friday, November 6, 2009

So, let's just say hypothetically that you have a girl in second grade who is extremely social. Perhaps so social that the teacher has explained that she has several girls in her class who have very strong, confident personalities and it may or may not be stressing said teacher out. [pointed look that ensures you know your child is one of those girls]

These girls that your daughter hangs out with at school have distinct and increasingly teenage-esque behaviors that maybe are starting to alarm you a bit on occasion, though most of the time they are harmless things...just little girls experimenting with being bigger girls.

But let me tell you. Just a small tip. If your daughter has long hair and asks to wear her hair down instead of in the customary braids or "twisties" she usually wears because her and her friends want to play "beauty shop" at recess, decline the request. Really. Just. Say. No.

Because if you're stupid like me you let your child wear her hair down to school for such purpose, you might just end up spending 45 minutes of your life trying to get a tangled hair band out from several knots of hair and brushing 2682 snarls out of her hair.

Just. Say. No.

Cold Weather Haiku

Thursday, November 5, 2009

The thing about coats
is if you really need them
the kids won't wear them.

The Only Thing In My Son's Lunchbox That He Didn't Eat

Wednesday, November 4, 2009

Check out more Wordless Wednesday.

Blogging on Blogging

Tuesday, November 3, 2009

This space came about as a whim, a lark. I was cavalier about it. I would write about my life, things that were on my mind, the funny things my kids said, the things about parenting that make my blood boil. I wanted to tell my story. My story includes my children. They are an inextricable part of my life, especially since I am a stay-at-home-mom. Some would say that I don't have the right to tell my children's stories. Their stories are their own and not mine to tell. And those people may be right.

The line is blurred between my story and theirs.

When it comes to my husband the line is more clearly marked. Even our story together is often off limits for me to write about here. Our story is not mine alone. So I do not write Craig's story here. It is only his to tell.

This blog is my story. It's a story that sometimes features cameo appearances from my parents or my brother or my brother's kids. But their appearances are superficial. You will never know them because of what I've written here. They have their own stories. I know only a small part of their stories anyway.

I realized in the last few years that writing about my in-laws is also generally not helpful and is probably hurtful to my husband so I have limited my writing about them as well. As far as I know, they do not know about this blog but I cannot be sure. I do not want to hurt my husband's family for the sake of comedy or whatever I thought my goal was there. I try. I do not always succeed in curbing my urges. This too is a part of my story.

Even as this blog is my story and I write fairly openly about things in my life and my experiences make no mistake. I do not share it all. There is much more to my life than will ever be shared here.

I chose to share my blog address with some of my family members. For the most part this has been a good thing. My family enjoys reading about my kids and laughs about the misadventures of Heather and Amma. My parents like to see the photos I take of my kids.

Sometimes though, having family read this blog is not a good thing. Feelings get hurt unintentionally. Some may wonder why they are not a part of this story. So I question the wisdom of writing so publicly. It suggests to others that they know me better than perhaps they really do.

This is only a small part of me. And I wonder if even that small part is too much to share.