Libby just looked up at the calendar and said, "It's veterinarians day!"
:D
11 November 2008
07 November 2008
*sigh*
So. Birthday parties.
I hate 'em, I hate the theory behind 'em. I hate that children give us an invitation (usually after I've made my once-weekly pilgrimage to WalMart) handing it directly to my child who then goes ga ga. So I have to make another 40-mile round-trip to the store to get a present, thereby buying admission to a birthday party. And my child is paid for attending, in the form of a gift bag.
Everything about it bothers me.
So I don't do birthday parties for my children. Poor things! But this year I thought, I don't do birthday parties, but I can just do a party. I can let my kid invite a few friends over, bake some cupcakes, they can play a while and eat cupcakes and maybe watch a movie. Fun, without the presents and without the gift bags.
Jackson had the first birthday party after I decided this. He turned nine last Monday. (Happy birthday, J! *kisses*) I told him he'd have his little party "soon".
Which in his mind, meant tonight, the following Friday evening. And this morning as soon as he woke, he said, "Mom, what time are my friends coming?" And I spluttered, because the house was kind of a mess and I hadn't called to invite anyone and hadn't thought of a single game, etc because soon didn't mean today to me. So I said, "Oh, Jackson, let's wait one more week." And his entire little sweet nine-year-old face crumbled.
So I called Blaine, hoping for someone to say, "Oh yeah, next week will work better." But Blaine has almost limitless faith in my abilities, darn it, and he said, "Don't you think you can work something up? I bet you can. I bet it will be great." That was at 3:00 p.m.
So I rallied all the kids. Gave them cleaning assignments. Divide and conquer! We tidied up (house looks fabulous, does anyone want to come visit? quick...) and I called moms. I got one firm yes and a bunch of probablies.
Fast forward to 7:00. Blaine, who had a crucial ingredient for dinner, was supposed to be home by 6:15, but he'd had to stay late. The one kid arrived at 7:00, and we hadn't even eaten dinner yet. All the fixings for burritos were ready, except the tortillas in Blaine's car. But the cupcakes were baked and iced.
So the poor kid comes in and watches Jackson eat a plate of refried beans, olives, and lettuce (I let him have a few chips, too). And that's it. I call around to all the friends again, he's the only one that can actually make it.
So we cleaned, we baked two dozen cupcakes, we planned games, all for one kid.
I feel like such a failure, seriously. It wasn't going to be a birthday party per se, but it was supposed to be a little more special than this, than all of the family sitting down to dinner while Jackson and his friend play downstairs, and no games (because the ones we prepared needed more than two kids). More than one kid coming in his honor, so my boy would feel special, you know?
Sigh.
And the worst part: now I'm wondering if I need to do all this again next week or something, with more kids. And every part of me, worn out from getting everything whipped into shape in three hours, cries NOOOOOO! I've already eaten one cupcake, and I'm eyeballing others. Oh yeah, emotional eating. Take that, diet!
----------------
Now playing: Paramore - Decode from the Twilight Soundtrack Blaine bought for me from the iTunes Store today!! :D
via FoxyTunes
I hate 'em, I hate the theory behind 'em. I hate that children give us an invitation (usually after I've made my once-weekly pilgrimage to WalMart) handing it directly to my child who then goes ga ga. So I have to make another 40-mile round-trip to the store to get a present, thereby buying admission to a birthday party. And my child is paid for attending, in the form of a gift bag.
Everything about it bothers me.
So I don't do birthday parties for my children. Poor things! But this year I thought, I don't do birthday parties, but I can just do a party. I can let my kid invite a few friends over, bake some cupcakes, they can play a while and eat cupcakes and maybe watch a movie. Fun, without the presents and without the gift bags.
Jackson had the first birthday party after I decided this. He turned nine last Monday. (Happy birthday, J! *kisses*) I told him he'd have his little party "soon".
Which in his mind, meant tonight, the following Friday evening. And this morning as soon as he woke, he said, "Mom, what time are my friends coming?" And I spluttered, because the house was kind of a mess and I hadn't called to invite anyone and hadn't thought of a single game, etc because soon didn't mean today to me. So I said, "Oh, Jackson, let's wait one more week." And his entire little sweet nine-year-old face crumbled.
So I called Blaine, hoping for someone to say, "Oh yeah, next week will work better." But Blaine has almost limitless faith in my abilities, darn it, and he said, "Don't you think you can work something up? I bet you can. I bet it will be great." That was at 3:00 p.m.
So I rallied all the kids. Gave them cleaning assignments. Divide and conquer! We tidied up (house looks fabulous, does anyone want to come visit? quick...) and I called moms. I got one firm yes and a bunch of probablies.
Fast forward to 7:00. Blaine, who had a crucial ingredient for dinner, was supposed to be home by 6:15, but he'd had to stay late. The one kid arrived at 7:00, and we hadn't even eaten dinner yet. All the fixings for burritos were ready, except the tortillas in Blaine's car. But the cupcakes were baked and iced.
So the poor kid comes in and watches Jackson eat a plate of refried beans, olives, and lettuce (I let him have a few chips, too). And that's it. I call around to all the friends again, he's the only one that can actually make it.
So we cleaned, we baked two dozen cupcakes, we planned games, all for one kid.
I feel like such a failure, seriously. It wasn't going to be a birthday party per se, but it was supposed to be a little more special than this, than all of the family sitting down to dinner while Jackson and his friend play downstairs, and no games (because the ones we prepared needed more than two kids). More than one kid coming in his honor, so my boy would feel special, you know?
Sigh.
And the worst part: now I'm wondering if I need to do all this again next week or something, with more kids. And every part of me, worn out from getting everything whipped into shape in three hours, cries NOOOOOO! I've already eaten one cupcake, and I'm eyeballing others. Oh yeah, emotional eating. Take that, diet!
----------------
Now playing: Paramore - Decode from the Twilight Soundtrack Blaine bought for me from the iTunes Store today!! :D
via FoxyTunes
04 November 2008
Snow!
We had a lot of rain on Sunday—loved it, needed it—and the clouds have loitered around for a few days.
We just had our first autumn flurry of snow! For about 20 minutes it came down so thickly we couldn't see the mountains (which are only about five miles away) and our back lawn is a nice expanse of white with grass blades poking up through. It won't last. Out the schoolroom window I can see that it's already fading away off the grass, and the branches are drip drip dripping. But somehow the first snow of the season is still pretty cool. :)
We just had our first autumn flurry of snow! For about 20 minutes it came down so thickly we couldn't see the mountains (which are only about five miles away) and our back lawn is a nice expanse of white with grass blades poking up through. It won't last. Out the schoolroom window I can see that it's already fading away off the grass, and the branches are drip drip dripping. But somehow the first snow of the season is still pretty cool. :)
28 October 2008
*throws in towel*
That's it.
I GIVE UP.
I resign.
No more. Finis! I quit.
Whoever installed carpet in this kitchen should be punished for all eternity by karma. I am a saint for having put up with cleaning carpet every time something gets spilled in the kitchen, rather than just wiping up what should be a hard, cleanable floor. Do you think seven children spill much? In a kitchen?
Chyeah.
And that bowlful of chunky black bean salsa just put me over the edge. Say hello, everyone, to our new, lovely, permanent plywood subfloor. Because the carpet has got to go.
----------------
Now playing: The Go Find - Over the Edge
via FoxyTunes
I GIVE UP.
I resign.
No more. Finis! I quit.
Whoever installed carpet in this kitchen should be punished for all eternity by karma. I am a saint for having put up with cleaning carpet every time something gets spilled in the kitchen, rather than just wiping up what should be a hard, cleanable floor. Do you think seven children spill much? In a kitchen?
Chyeah.
And that bowlful of chunky black bean salsa just put me over the edge. Say hello, everyone, to our new, lovely, permanent plywood subfloor. Because the carpet has got to go.
----------------
Now playing: The Go Find - Over the Edge
via FoxyTunes
Diapers disposed
It's official. Seven out of seven children use the potty. :)
I knew this day would come, even back when I had just one child. I knew, eventually, all the kiddles would be potty trained and I wouldn't have to lug a diaper bag around everywhere I go, but after very nearly fifteen years of at least one person in diapers, it just doesn't lessen the triumph! Squee-a-rama!
During the Saturday morning session of General Conference I found Mack naked on the toilet. He'd stripped himself down, diaper and all, and settled himself. We'd given a few unsuccessful cracks at potty training before that, so I wasn't overly optimistic, but I sat on the edge of the tub beside him and LO AND BEHOLD he pooped. And then an hour later, he peed. And later! And again! And though I was hesitant to start banking the diaper money, I couldn't help being a little excited.
He picked up on going #1 right away. #2 we struggled with a little more, despite his stellar beginning. For the rest of that week he pooped on the floor instead of in the potty. He knew it was coming, he's sometimes warn me, we'd sometimes sit with him on the potty, but he'd wait until he was off and alone to poop. *long-suffering sigh* So I decided bribery was the key, and candy was his currency.
I bought a big bag of Starbursts. I told him every time he went poop on the potty, he'd get one. All the other kids, of course, got jealous and whined and I said, Okay fine, today and only today, when you go poop on the potty *eyeroll* you may have a candy.
That first day was tragic. He sat on the potty three times, really needing to go, before finally pooping on the floor. No candy for him. But! All five of the others pooped in the potty just fine of course and each got their candy. He was a little jealous raving maniac by the end of the day, going in to sit and "poop" on the potty every ten minutes because he wanted a Starburst so badly; all he really did was sit there whining and begging, though.
But the next day, by golly, he pooped in the potty. Yay! Bribe! And the next day, and all the days after. It's been a couple of weeks of success, so I'm going to stamp this potty training file "Case Closed" and get on with my diaper-free life.
Well, mostly diaper-free; Mack and one other still need them at nighttime because they don't stay dry all night. But those are only wet diapers. As long as I'm not changing the poops anymore, I'm One Happy Mommy.
I knew this day would come, even back when I had just one child. I knew, eventually, all the kiddles would be potty trained and I wouldn't have to lug a diaper bag around everywhere I go, but after very nearly fifteen years of at least one person in diapers, it just doesn't lessen the triumph! Squee-a-rama!
During the Saturday morning session of General Conference I found Mack naked on the toilet. He'd stripped himself down, diaper and all, and settled himself. We'd given a few unsuccessful cracks at potty training before that, so I wasn't overly optimistic, but I sat on the edge of the tub beside him and LO AND BEHOLD he pooped. And then an hour later, he peed. And later! And again! And though I was hesitant to start banking the diaper money, I couldn't help being a little excited.
He picked up on going #1 right away. #2 we struggled with a little more, despite his stellar beginning. For the rest of that week he pooped on the floor instead of in the potty. He knew it was coming, he's sometimes warn me, we'd sometimes sit with him on the potty, but he'd wait until he was off and alone to poop. *long-suffering sigh* So I decided bribery was the key, and candy was his currency.
I bought a big bag of Starbursts. I told him every time he went poop on the potty, he'd get one. All the other kids, of course, got jealous and whined and I said, Okay fine, today and only today, when you go poop on the potty *eyeroll* you may have a candy.
That first day was tragic. He sat on the potty three times, really needing to go, before finally pooping on the floor. No candy for him. But! All five of the others pooped in the potty just fine of course and each got their candy. He was a little jealous raving maniac by the end of the day, going in to sit and "poop" on the potty every ten minutes because he wanted a Starburst so badly; all he really did was sit there whining and begging, though.
But the next day, by golly, he pooped in the potty. Yay! Bribe! And the next day, and all the days after. It's been a couple of weeks of success, so I'm going to stamp this potty training file "Case Closed" and get on with my diaper-free life.
Well, mostly diaper-free; Mack and one other still need them at nighttime because they don't stay dry all night. But those are only wet diapers. As long as I'm not changing the poops anymore, I'm One Happy Mommy.
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