E and Soph are both in bed asleep--probably because they both have...bronchitis. Yepper. Took Soph to the doctor today, and she'll be out of school for another day at least. It's times like this that make me so glad E works from home. I can't even imagine trying to plan for a sub this week. Yikes.
In other riveting news, we're about 90% moved in. I guess that's the upside of moving twice in 7 months. We have really scaled back on the crap, which makes finding a place for everything much more doable. Our new funky 50s era split level came complete with a storage basement--no windows, no frills, just space--which is now referred to as the bat cave. It's also handy for those odds and ends that we can't seem to throw away. There's also a little room especially designed for storing canning. So, that's sure to stay conveniently empty.
I have a handful of pictures to find homes for, and then, I shall distribute the turtle collection. For some reason they stay in the box until everything else is done. And then I get to go through them and find just the right place for each one. I love my San Diego shell turtle from my gal pal Denice--complete with little wire glasses. My newest one is from Phoenix--and brings back memories of Katy and my dad. It's blown glass, and the shell looks like a little miniature galaxy. I have one from Santa Fe and one from San Francisco. Pretty much all of my family members and most of my friends have gifted me a turtle, and I love it.
My first turtle was actually a little stolen. I rescued it from a roommate who wasn't keeping track of it properly. It was ceramic jewelry holder with a removable shell. I had it for a long time--until toddler Janz (who is now a senior--gah!) knocked over a table and it smashed to simtherines. After that, the turtles kind of kept coming. When people ask me, why turtles?, I do have an answer. For one, they remind me that it's ok to go slowly. Also, they are always at home, no matter where they go. I dig that.
Today's best thing about being a mom: Watching Matilda. Yikes. The Trunchbull is scary!
Today's worst thing about being a mom: Netflix on demand guilt. I know she's sick, but 7 hours of TV/movies is still WAY TOO MUCH. God. I suck.
Monday, August 22, 2011
Wednesday, August 17, 2011
Pork Sickness
Soph kept asking me today if people still get pork sickness. I thought for some weird reason she was referring to trichinosis--right? Isn't that what you get if you eat raw pork? So I went into this whole song and dance about cooking meats to their proper temperature and what have you.
She got way confused, and said she thought her teacher wanted kids to bring wet wipes to school because of pork sickness, and what did that have to do with cooking meat?
Light bulb. Pork sickness=swine flu. I'm assuming most of you got that one before I did.
Her backpack is ready to go, sitting by the front door. We now live less than a block from her elementary school, so she'll be walking. Her friend Beesley is picking her up at 8:30, and then off to the 4th grade.
Today's best thing about being a mom: Helping put new pencils in the new pencil box.
Today's worst thing about being a mom: Worrying about mean kids.
She got way confused, and said she thought her teacher wanted kids to bring wet wipes to school because of pork sickness, and what did that have to do with cooking meat?
Light bulb. Pork sickness=swine flu. I'm assuming most of you got that one before I did.
Her backpack is ready to go, sitting by the front door. We now live less than a block from her elementary school, so she'll be walking. Her friend Beesley is picking her up at 8:30, and then off to the 4th grade.
Today's best thing about being a mom: Helping put new pencils in the new pencil box.
Today's worst thing about being a mom: Worrying about mean kids.
Tuesday, August 16, 2011
I promise to stop bitching
sometime next week.
I feel like every single part of my life is unsettled. The only way to the other side is through it, I guess, so even though I mostly want to sit and bawl, I'm going to do some laundry and then unpack a few more boxes.
Today's best thing about being a mom: What? I have a daughter. Funny. Haven't seen her in a while.
Today's worst thing about being a mom: No really. Where is she?
I feel like every single part of my life is unsettled. The only way to the other side is through it, I guess, so even though I mostly want to sit and bawl, I'm going to do some laundry and then unpack a few more boxes.
Today's best thing about being a mom: What? I have a daughter. Funny. Haven't seen her in a while.
Today's worst thing about being a mom: No really. Where is she?
Monday, August 15, 2011
30 Day Blog Challenge...FAILED
Yup. Failed. No internet access, no time, no energy. I thought this move was going to be hard, but I really had no idea. It's not the moving so much as the unpacking and cleaning. Jesus, the cleaning. We were only in the other house 7 months. Just long enough to get it good and fucking filthy. I couldn't believe the refrigerator once it was empty. My family and I are apparently slobs of the highest caliber. I've spent at least 8 hours now trying get that place clean. It belongs to my in-laws, and I don't want them to think I trashed their house. That said, there are only so many hours in a day, and at some point, I'm going to need to unpack the rest of the boxes here--and perhaps plan a bit for the start of school. Sheesh
Today's best thing about being a mom: Going out together for lunch at Ninja.
Today's worst thing about being a mom: Having to supply regular meals even when life is chaotic as hell.
Today's best thing about being a mom: Going out together for lunch at Ninja.
Today's worst thing about being a mom: Having to supply regular meals even when life is chaotic as hell.
Thursday, August 11, 2011
My carefully constructed bubble of denial
has officially popped--and been replaced with an eyeball popping headache.
Today was my first day back at school. 7+ hours of meetings today and 7+ hours of meetings tomorrow. The summer is officially kaput. My mantra for tomorrow will be (as it should have been today) KEEP YOUR DAMN MOUTH SHUT. I just can't help saying what's on my mind sometimes, and I'm afraid that didn't endear me to my new principal today.
In Sophie news, my girl is turning 9 tomorrow. What? Yep, 9. I, of course will be at work and am ass deep in moving and work prep, so the celebrations will be somewhat more subdued than usual. Tonight I'm taking her to a play (The Music Man) and tomorrow she's being taken out to breakfast by grandma, lunch by grandpa, and then out for a crab dinner with mom and dad. This is the first year she's getting money instead of presents. I just don't have time, plus she wants to do a little "big girl" upgrading to her room, so I'm going to take her to Bed Bath and Beyond for a little shopping after we move in.
Today's best thing about being a mom: Yesterday we went out to dinner at our local cowboy diner, The Market Grill. (If you want it breaded, with gravy, the Market is your place.) As we were eating, she noticed a girl about her age, sitting at a table with 3, let's just say it, old farts. These 3 guys were going on and on and on about gun control laws and political conspiracies and who knows what else, and the little girl was obviously bored out of her mind, but trying to be good. Soph kept mentioning her--worrying about how bored she must be, and taking the grownups to task for not letting her in on the conversation. One of the Market Grill's main draws for Soph is the bank of vending machines out front. When she was done eating, I gave her a couple of quarters to spend while her dad and I finished up. She came back with some kind of little sticker book, took it over to the girl, and gave it to her saying, "Here. I bought this for you because you looked kind of sad.
Today's worst thing about being a mom: Every year it seems like I'm way stressed for her birthday. It's always right when the new school year is starting up.
Today was my first day back at school. 7+ hours of meetings today and 7+ hours of meetings tomorrow. The summer is officially kaput. My mantra for tomorrow will be (as it should have been today) KEEP YOUR DAMN MOUTH SHUT. I just can't help saying what's on my mind sometimes, and I'm afraid that didn't endear me to my new principal today.
In Sophie news, my girl is turning 9 tomorrow. What? Yep, 9. I, of course will be at work and am ass deep in moving and work prep, so the celebrations will be somewhat more subdued than usual. Tonight I'm taking her to a play (The Music Man) and tomorrow she's being taken out to breakfast by grandma, lunch by grandpa, and then out for a crab dinner with mom and dad. This is the first year she's getting money instead of presents. I just don't have time, plus she wants to do a little "big girl" upgrading to her room, so I'm going to take her to Bed Bath and Beyond for a little shopping after we move in.
Today's best thing about being a mom: Yesterday we went out to dinner at our local cowboy diner, The Market Grill. (If you want it breaded, with gravy, the Market is your place.) As we were eating, she noticed a girl about her age, sitting at a table with 3, let's just say it, old farts. These 3 guys were going on and on and on about gun control laws and political conspiracies and who knows what else, and the little girl was obviously bored out of her mind, but trying to be good. Soph kept mentioning her--worrying about how bored she must be, and taking the grownups to task for not letting her in on the conversation. One of the Market Grill's main draws for Soph is the bank of vending machines out front. When she was done eating, I gave her a couple of quarters to spend while her dad and I finished up. She came back with some kind of little sticker book, took it over to the girl, and gave it to her saying, "Here. I bought this for you because you looked kind of sad.
Today's worst thing about being a mom: Every year it seems like I'm way stressed for her birthday. It's always right when the new school year is starting up.
Wednesday, August 10, 2011
Watching Weight
I always thought Weight Watchers was a weird name for a weight loss program. Watch it do what? Decrease, I guess, but that's a bit like watching paint dry, isn't it?
It's been 6 months now since I signed up, and I'm down about 30 pounds.
When I first started blogging, YEARS ago, I was working my own weight loss program. It consisted of prescription diet pills, bulimia, and cigarettes. The physical results were fantastic. I looked super. Emotionally, though, things were pretty dire. So once I kicked all 3 of those nasty habits (mostly) the pounds didn't just sneak back on. They leapt--sprinted--jockeyed for position on various bits and pieces of me.
So now here I am, 6 months into this process of trying to do it the old fashioned way--eating less and exercising. And for several months, it was going great. Then the summer hit. BBQs and holidays and (lovely) visits to and from family and the slide down the slippery slope commenced. Thankfully, I haven't gained--but I haven't lost either. To be in my healthy range, I need to be down at least 10 more pounds, and those last 10 can be a bitch.
At the beginning of the summer, I alternated jogging and swimming--like, every day--and was making really substantial progress. I even sprouted a muscle or two. But now--I've lost that mojo. No matter how long I do it, jogging HURTS. I keep waiting for that day when I head out the door and fall into a zen like stride, but so far, I can only describe my runs as anywhere from excruciating to tolerable. As for swimming, it feels great. But finding all the swimming stuff, getting to the pool and jockeying for a lane is kind of a pain.
As a replacement, I've been doing at home "Walk Away the Pounds" DVDs, and they're fine, but not nearly as effective as the jogging and swimming were.
I know it's time to stop making excuses and just do what I know works, but not today. Once we've settled in the new house and I have a couple weeks of the new school year under my belt, we'll see.
Until then, my goal is to focus on portion control--and to get at lest a bit of exercise every day, even if it's just a walk. Better than nothing, I suppose.
Today's best thing about being a mom: We're going to see The Music Man--hopefully--today.
Today's worst thing about being a mom: School shopping
It's been 6 months now since I signed up, and I'm down about 30 pounds.
When I first started blogging, YEARS ago, I was working my own weight loss program. It consisted of prescription diet pills, bulimia, and cigarettes. The physical results were fantastic. I looked super. Emotionally, though, things were pretty dire. So once I kicked all 3 of those nasty habits (mostly) the pounds didn't just sneak back on. They leapt--sprinted--jockeyed for position on various bits and pieces of me.
So now here I am, 6 months into this process of trying to do it the old fashioned way--eating less and exercising. And for several months, it was going great. Then the summer hit. BBQs and holidays and (lovely) visits to and from family and the slide down the slippery slope commenced. Thankfully, I haven't gained--but I haven't lost either. To be in my healthy range, I need to be down at least 10 more pounds, and those last 10 can be a bitch.
At the beginning of the summer, I alternated jogging and swimming--like, every day--and was making really substantial progress. I even sprouted a muscle or two. But now--I've lost that mojo. No matter how long I do it, jogging HURTS. I keep waiting for that day when I head out the door and fall into a zen like stride, but so far, I can only describe my runs as anywhere from excruciating to tolerable. As for swimming, it feels great. But finding all the swimming stuff, getting to the pool and jockeying for a lane is kind of a pain.
As a replacement, I've been doing at home "Walk Away the Pounds" DVDs, and they're fine, but not nearly as effective as the jogging and swimming were.
I know it's time to stop making excuses and just do what I know works, but not today. Once we've settled in the new house and I have a couple weeks of the new school year under my belt, we'll see.
Until then, my goal is to focus on portion control--and to get at lest a bit of exercise every day, even if it's just a walk. Better than nothing, I suppose.
Today's best thing about being a mom: We're going to see The Music Man--hopefully--today.
Today's worst thing about being a mom: School shopping
Tuesday, August 09, 2011
Because I said I would...
here is day 2 of my 30 day blog a day goal.
I made the big mistake of starting Catching Fire last night--the second Hunger Games book, if you happen to have just landed on planet earth.
So now I need to pack and get ready for school, but also fight the urge to sit in my reading chair with snacks and just blast through that thing.
I always say that I'm not a big fan of the teen dystopias that seem to be all the rage, but that's not really the truth. I try to keep abreast of "what the kids are reading" these days, and I'll admit that the dystopian selections are super engaging. Hunger Games, Uglies, Unwound, Ship Breaker, and Matched all are pretty tough to put down once started. But they're no good for my apocolyptophobia, (I hope I just made that word up.) and like many others, I can't help but wonder why this particular genre seems to resonate so deeply with kids right now.
Soph is going to be spending most of the day with her great-grandma Gene, and I hope to bust ass and get some work done--both at home and at school.
Today's best thing about being a mom: Going for walks together--and stopping to sit under a shady tree and eat apples.
Today's worst thing about being a mom: Brushing her hair. As an almost 9 year old (!!) she should be doing this by herself, but her hair so thick and prone to tangles, that ain't going to happen anytime soon.
I made the big mistake of starting Catching Fire last night--the second Hunger Games book, if you happen to have just landed on planet earth.
So now I need to pack and get ready for school, but also fight the urge to sit in my reading chair with snacks and just blast through that thing.
I always say that I'm not a big fan of the teen dystopias that seem to be all the rage, but that's not really the truth. I try to keep abreast of "what the kids are reading" these days, and I'll admit that the dystopian selections are super engaging. Hunger Games, Uglies, Unwound, Ship Breaker, and Matched all are pretty tough to put down once started. But they're no good for my apocolyptophobia, (I hope I just made that word up.) and like many others, I can't help but wonder why this particular genre seems to resonate so deeply with kids right now.
Soph is going to be spending most of the day with her great-grandma Gene, and I hope to bust ass and get some work done--both at home and at school.
Today's best thing about being a mom: Going for walks together--and stopping to sit under a shady tree and eat apples.
Today's worst thing about being a mom: Brushing her hair. As an almost 9 year old (!!) she should be doing this by herself, but her hair so thick and prone to tangles, that ain't going to happen anytime soon.
Monday, August 08, 2011
Why moving totally sucks
On Saturday, I'm moving, again. That will mean we'll have lived in 3 different houses in the span of 7 months. Hopefully, this time we'll stay put for longer than a 2 year old's attention span, but who knows?
Why the move? I don't want to talk about it.
But when you move, you have to take stock of your shit. (Why the 40 remotes? None of them work. Should we throw them away? Is Soph now ready to give the dolls to charity? Does she play with the blocks anymore? If I give away the size 20 pants, will the weight suddenly land right back on my ass? Should we go ahead and move the 5 boxes of trash from the office, again, without going through them, again?) I just did this 7 months ago, and am barely recovered from giving away the board books. Plus, 7 months ago I gave away my size 14 pants, and now I wish I hadn't. I don't want to take stock of my shit, because that means taking stock of my life, and I try to avoid that as much as possible, even if to do so I'm forced to play Scramble for 3 hours a day.
Also, the sweet, kind souls who are helping you move get to see your shit. And I know they're not judging--but I still feel the need to create the illusion for them that I am an organized, together person who stores all the batteries and light bulbs in one strategic location, rather than spread out all over the house, handily lost so that each time we need them we just go to the store and buy more.
Plus, some of my shit is private. Last time we moved, someone, and I have no idea who, packed and moved the stuff in the sex drawer while I was over at the other house. Now don't get me wrong--it was nice of him/her to do that, and there was nothing too exciting in there, but nonetheless, someone, not me, put the condoms and what have you into a box, labled it "master bedroom" and packed it into the truck. Because in my heart, I'm really a Puritan about such things, this really freaks me out. (Aside, this box was lost, and only discovered--in the laundry room--1 week ago while I was finally UNPACKING THE LAST BOXES FROM THE LAST TIME WE MOVED.)
And not to get to "men are from mars women are from venus" about it, but men and women, at least E and I, don't see the process or the work involved in the same way at all. This causes us to have to communicate; something we've studiously learned to avoid after 15 years of marriage. We have to talk about expectations and time tables and money and work allocation. I get that he's the one who is going to have to move the washer and dryer and couches up stairs and down stairs. That will suck. But so does packing and unpacking the kitchen, pummicing (a word?) toilets, and suddenly realizing that the ceiling fans haven't been dusted in 7 months.
Did I mention I'm going back to work on Thursday? And that Soph's birthday is Friday?
Pity me.
Why the move? I don't want to talk about it.
But when you move, you have to take stock of your shit. (Why the 40 remotes? None of them work. Should we throw them away? Is Soph now ready to give the dolls to charity? Does she play with the blocks anymore? If I give away the size 20 pants, will the weight suddenly land right back on my ass? Should we go ahead and move the 5 boxes of trash from the office, again, without going through them, again?) I just did this 7 months ago, and am barely recovered from giving away the board books. Plus, 7 months ago I gave away my size 14 pants, and now I wish I hadn't. I don't want to take stock of my shit, because that means taking stock of my life, and I try to avoid that as much as possible, even if to do so I'm forced to play Scramble for 3 hours a day.
Also, the sweet, kind souls who are helping you move get to see your shit. And I know they're not judging--but I still feel the need to create the illusion for them that I am an organized, together person who stores all the batteries and light bulbs in one strategic location, rather than spread out all over the house, handily lost so that each time we need them we just go to the store and buy more.
Plus, some of my shit is private. Last time we moved, someone, and I have no idea who, packed and moved the stuff in the sex drawer while I was over at the other house. Now don't get me wrong--it was nice of him/her to do that, and there was nothing too exciting in there, but nonetheless, someone, not me, put the condoms and what have you into a box, labled it "master bedroom" and packed it into the truck. Because in my heart, I'm really a Puritan about such things, this really freaks me out. (Aside, this box was lost, and only discovered--in the laundry room--1 week ago while I was finally UNPACKING THE LAST BOXES FROM THE LAST TIME WE MOVED.)
And not to get to "men are from mars women are from venus" about it, but men and women, at least E and I, don't see the process or the work involved in the same way at all. This causes us to have to communicate; something we've studiously learned to avoid after 15 years of marriage. We have to talk about expectations and time tables and money and work allocation. I get that he's the one who is going to have to move the washer and dryer and couches up stairs and down stairs. That will suck. But so does packing and unpacking the kitchen, pummicing (a word?) toilets, and suddenly realizing that the ceiling fans haven't been dusted in 7 months.
Did I mention I'm going back to work on Thursday? And that Soph's birthday is Friday?
Pity me.
Subscribe to:
Posts (Atom)