It's the end of the semester.
Which means I get to see D-Hubby a little more. Which means Summer's coming! Which means the snow is melting! Which also means we are dirrrrrt poor. Things are always a little snug, financially speaking...that's just the life of a little student family, and that's a-okay. BUT the last month of the school year is always the worst. Student loans have already done their duty, and we barely scrape by with the piece-meal extra income we have from our part-time jobs...until the first paycheque of the summer job comes in. Pfheeeeew! Unfortunately, this year also brings a big move to the table. Gaaah. We thought we'd have a whole summer to save for the moving costs...but, um, nope. Wrong. So now, lest ye think I'm just complaining, and not what I intended to do---which is simply set the stage for the following stories---I'm moving on:
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The other day I went to go visit a friend in the hospital. I'm her visiting teacher and it was her birthday and I wanted to be there for her, for just a few minutes. We're soOOo tight this month, I was worrying about paying three dollars to park in the hospital parking lot. With a quick little prayer, I asked Heavenly Father to help me find free parking. Then I remembered that there is ZERO free parking around the university campus, where the hospital is located. So...I figured that I would just go ahead and park in the parkade and swallow the three bucks. At least I know that it's money going to a worthy cause...I know Heavenly Father will help it all work out. And so I parked in the hospital parking lot.
I was so glad I got to visit. She was feeling well for her birthday, I got to give her the card I made, and I wrote her a funny poem in her "Cheer Book" she has to help her smile when she's feeling down. I felt humbled and uplifted by my visit with her, however brief. And I left lighter.
After the visit, I went to drive out of the parkade. Sighing, I pulled up to the machine to pay, inserted my parking stub, and went to go insert my credit card...when the parking attendant said "M'am? You don't have to pay at this minute. The gate is open." Oh! Thanks. was all I could say as I drove through the parking gate, shocked. And with tears welling up in my eyes, all I could think was Thank You, too.
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This morning was rough. Just one of those days; those frustrating, aggravating, hopelessly overwhelming days. And in the midst of all the whining and the clinging and the screaming of my babies who were teething or just stressed out by the tears in her mama's eyes, I felt like calling my own mama and just crying and crying and crying. I took a deep breath, got a hold of myself long enough to pick up my screaming baby and just hold him on the couch. Baby-Rae climbed up beside me and snuggled her worried little self into my side. Baby-M finally settled down a bit, long enough to pass out asleep on my shoulder. To my surprise, Baby-Rae followed suit, falling asleep against my arm, waay earlier than her usual nap time. And we three just sat there. For an hour, we snuggled and slept. It was the perfect amount of time for me to think everything out...to collect myself, and just .... be ....still. And I was calmed, and my frayed ends were soothed. And I was so grateful to have them...to have their complete trust and unconditional love...to have their warmth to keep me together when it felt like nothing else could.
Just tender mercies.
Thursday, April 7, 2011
Monday, March 28, 2011
The Day.
A couple weeks ago, I read someone's blog who was challenging everyone to write about a day in their life...an ordinary day...just to share with each other what ho-hum, everyday life was like. I liked the idea, for record-keeping's sake. So I've been meaning to do it. I decided to do it for today...a VERY ordinary and unexciting day, turns out. And I don't expect anyone to care...promise. It was just kind of fun for me to write out a pretty typical day. Made it kind of different, somehow.
SOoo, if you want to spend a boring day with me, or are curious about my bad parenting and want to feel better about your own parenting, or are just curious what my day is like with two sick babies, read on. If not, you're not missing anything. And it's detailed. Record-keeping's sake, remember? Right.
Strictly speaking, the day starts off at midnight.
At 3:30am, Baby-M wakes up to eat. At 4:30am, Baby-Rae wakes up because she's sick with a wicked cold...and crawls into bed with us. At 5:06am, D-Hubby's alarm wakes us up an hour too early...still set for the Saturday before when we got up to travel to the temple. Baby-Rae decides that she wants to get out of the bed, thinking it's rise-n-shine time. I climb out of bed, carry her into the living room to get her teddy bear, hoping to help her realize that it is still time for night-night's by doing something we often do before bed. It works. She goes back to sleep in her own bed. Excellent! Baby-M is up at 6:15am to eat again, about the time that D-Hubby has to get up to do the neighborhood paper route. I bring Baby-M into bed with me and we both fall asleep while he nurses. D-Hubby treks out into the chilly morning for the next half hour.
D-Hubby wakes Baby-M and I up around 7:45am so he can get ready in the room, and so we can drive him to school, like I had offered to the night before. D-Hubby and I exchange sleepy good mornings and smiles. D-Hubby takes advantage of a chubby-baby snuggle while Baby-M streeeeetches. I decide against going to the gym to work out as per usual: Baby-Rae would cough all sorts of contagion over every single kid in the daycare, I'm sure. I pull on a shirt, jeans, and re-do my hair into a messy bun. The usual. I 'nuke a couple frozen breakfast taquitos for D-Hubby. Change the soaking wet diapers of the babies. Get Baby-Rae a piece of a FruitSource bar to hold her over til we get home. And we're out.
Drop D-Hubby off. Share Love you, Bye!'s. Drive to the UPS store to drop off the package D-Hubby asked me to send off. Deposit cheque for grant we received in the mail a couple days earlier (woot woot!), pull out tithing. I'm starving. Find a sesame snack in the driver's side door from Saturday: devour. Drive home. Get Baby-Rae in house first because she doesn't have shoes on. Then I go get Baby-M out of car and into house.
Baby-Rae asks for a nyaaaa?(snack.) She's onwree (hungry). So we share a breakfast of plain yogurt sweetened with maple syrup. Add slivered almonds and I'm eating my favourite breakfast lately. Yeeee-ummm. Baby-Rae enjoys her yogurt minus the almonds...and we chat over breakfast while Baby-M gnaws on the pig toy of his exersaucer.
Breakfast is done. Sigh as I add our dishes to the leftover dishes that need to be washed. I hate starting a morning with dishes in the sink. Yee-uck. Tote Baby-Rae and Baby-M into the living room where she gets to watch a You-Tube episode of Winnie-the-Pooh in a side window....while I do the morning check of Facebook, Email, Blogs, Bank...all punctuated by frequent breaks to say where's did Tigger go? Can you see the tree? Where's the bee? and talk in overly animated grins to Baby-M on the floor, who is practicing his toe-grabbing skills. He smiles back every time. It's my favourite. I've still got a minute before Pooh ends, so I take advantage of it to quickly check the dress selection online at Old Navy and The Children's Place. I've got an Easter dress for Baby-Rae on the mind.
Pooh is over, so is my computer time. I carry Baby-M to the bedroom and plop him on the bed. Give him plentiful kisses, and tickle a giggle out of him. Hand him a toy to play with. Baby-Rae wants uuuhhp! uuuuhp! on the bed, too. Up she goes, gets a book, and I get out the Give-Away bag and empty my shirt drawer, being ruthless. Last night D-Hubby and I talked about needing new clothes for Spring and Summer. And the money for them. My brilliant idea is to sell the decent clothes I'm sick of to my favourite consignment store...then use the cash--or store credit--to re-vamp my wardrobe. I only keep the shirts I really like...and feel good after the purge. Baby-Rae is burying her face in her brother's tummy and talking in overly animated tones. I laugh at how familiar it sounds, and join her.
Tomorrow I'll purge the kids' clothes to do the same thing for their Spring/Summer wardrobe. Baby-M is growing out of clothes faster than I can say chubby baby.
Baby-M is fussy. Tired? Hungry? Both. I nurse him, but he falls asleep too soon. He wakes up when I try to put him down in his crib. Try to rock him back to sleep? Keep him up and put him down later? I choose the latter, mostly because Baby-Rae is underfoot, yelling over Baby-M's cries, babee, cwy? (baby, cry?) repeatedly...making putting him back to sleep next to impossible. Baby Rae wants another nyaaaa? (snack) and Baby-M is just grouchy. Baby-Rae gets cheese and crackers while Baby-M complains on the kitchen floor every time I leave his line of sight. An impression strikes me then about something I've been praying about: helping Baby-M sleep through the night. I feel like he would do well with learning how to fall asleep on his own while he can still see me. I file that answer away to use when we officially start sleep-training. Thanks, Heavenly Father.
I start dishes while Baby-Rae snacks, and Baby-M watches me warily...daring me to walk away. He's got a scream ready if I do. I manage to get through a few before Baby-Rae wants out. I need a productive way to keep her occupied: want to colour? She answers, ya! and I tape a huge piece of paper to the kitchen floor next to Baby-M and hand Baby-Rae some crayons. I realize I didn't get to do any kind of scripture study this morning. So I turn on the Mormon Channel and listen to Elder Holland and his wife talk about their life together while I wash dishes. I smile as they talk about the time in their life where they had two small children, he was in school, they had demanding church callings, and they had no money. I needed to hear about their experience, their struggle. I can SO relate and I'm uplifted. At this point Baby-Rae is done with colouring, Baby-M is done with life, and I'm far from done the dishes. We all just stop and snuggle on the couch while I nurse Baby-M to sleep again. Baby-Rae wants to be there so she can loudly proclaim ssshhh! baby seeep! (baby sleep) every time he starts to doze off. Oooh, baby girl, how you test my patience. Good thing you're so darn cute, I say out loud. She just looks at me. I smile. She smiles. And Baby-M is aaaaaalmost asleep.
Once Baby-M is out, cold, I put him on my bed to nap, anticipating that I'll be able to put Baby-Rae down for an early nap soon as well. If they both nap at the same time, I might get to sneak a nap in, too! The lack of sleep the night before is making this morning seem especially long. I don't get too excited. Good thing, too. I snuggle with Baby-Rae at the computer while I jot down a few things for this post, and we watch an episode of Caillou together. I decide that I definitely am not a fan. I've been a fence-sitter on Caillou for a long time...but I just can't stand how whiney he is...and how he's not a problem-solver...he just whines to the adults to fix everything. Not something I want Baby-Rae imitating. Just as I'm getting ready to put Baby-Rae down for her early nap...Baby-M wakes up. NOT a long enough nap, as far as I'm concerned. His cry sounds hoarse...he must be getting Baby-Rae's cold. Awesome. Poor baby probably just feels gross and can't get settled. My exasperation at no nap for me melts away in light of this realization. My poor sickos.
Baby-Rae falls asleep quickly. Baby-M is happy for a little bit. We play peek-a-boo, and he laughs heartily at all my funny noises. My kids definitely give me a false sense of how funny I am. I am totally hilarious, according to them. I love it. I go to check something on the computer, and he's having none of it. He refuses to be happy doing anything at that point. After several attempts to wrap him tight and rock him to sleep, I figure I might be able to get him to go to sleep in his bouncy chair. He often seems to prefer the bouncing motion of the chair over the rocking motion of being held while being put to sleep. Hmph. All sorts of I'm-a-horrible-mom thoughts fight each other for air-time. I manage to shut them up as he drifts off to sleep quietly while I watch his sweet, chubby, sleepy little face. No, for now, this is okay for him. He's being loved not neglected. So shut your face, I tell those negative thoughts. I win this time. Barely. I pick up Baby-M, snuggle him for a minute or two, then place him on my non-bouncing bed where he finishes out his nap.
I field a call from a lady wanting to buy our baby swing off Kijiji. I sit down to write some of this out. Then fight with myself over whether to have a nap...or finish the dishes. One side says I need some sleep after last night to make it through the day halfway sane. One side says I need the relief that will come with having those dishes off my mind and outta my sink. Why are both sides right? No. Fair. I figure I can still work through dishes while the kids are awake....albeit, slowly...but can't nap while they're awake....so I choose to nap. I realize I'm starving, first off. I search through the cupboards for something fast, I'm wasting nap-time, here! D-Hubby calls to share a school triumph. Woo-hoo! I'm still hungry...but we have nothing quick, and I want that nap. I drink some water instead. I snuggle up to Baby-M on my bed and give him a kiss. Which wakes him up. I successfully nurse him back to sleep...and just as I start to doze off, I hear Baby-Rae's little lips pressed into the crack of her door: Maaam? Maaaam? Mamaaa?
No nap today.
Baby Rae and I wash dishes together. Well.... I wash, she splashes. We wear sunglasses because that's her new favorite thing to do. I laugh when she looks at me, glasses on upside down and barely a nose to rest on. She laughs, too. Maybe I look just as funny. She points to the water she's splashed onto the counter. Uh-oooh...., she informs me. I repeat her sentiment with a mock serious impression. She watches me, waiting for the inevitable smile she knows is coming. I do not disappoint and we clean up the water together, taking turns saying our own versions of the word water. Baby-M starts a-hollering from the bedroom.
The rest of the afternoon is spent eating cheese quesadillas with sour-cream-and-salsa-and-taco-seasoning dipping sauce. We three read stories. I nurse Baby-M, change diapers, make funny noises, laugh with my babies. I try to get Baby-M to take a nap longer than 15 min. It's not happening. I call D-Hubby to find out when he plans to be home. The lady comes to pick up the swing. A friend stops by to pick something up and we visit for a few minutes. I talk to my mom on the phone and make Baby-Rae say hello, and do a few more tricks. We scrounge up a can of soup for dinner, which is about all the effort I feel like making at the moment. I check a few blogs while Baby-Rae and Baby-M play. Baby-Rae and I sing some songs together; her favourite is always The Itsy Bitsy Spider. Around Bedtime, I go to give them some baby Tylenol...and can't find it. Baby-M is downright fed up with being awake, but won't fall asleep...so I figure running out to WalMart will be a good little car ride to help him konk out for a bit.
We head to WalMart. Pick up Baby Tylenol. Wander aimlessly for a few minutes, just to stretch the outing out a little longer. Baby-M sleeps. Baby-Rae throws the box of medicine at Baby-M saying deh'go (there you go). Make impulse chocolate bar purchase for this recipe. Make Baby Rae cover her mouth every time she starts hacking. And leave with medicine and chocolate bars.
Pull into driveway the exact same time D-Hubby arrives. I'm pleasantly surprised at his early homecoming. I've missed him today. A kiss hello! We enter the house. He pulls off his backpack, we tag-team getting Baby-Rae in bed...story, teeth, prayers, maybe a song, goodnight. I wrap Baby-M up tight, nurse him to sleep, and ask D-Hubby to have a little Family Home Evening, even if it's just us. He agrees. We read an article from the Ensign Magazine on Family Prayer, something we're trying to be better at doing consistently. We agree that it's an awesome article. D-Hubby's exhausted, he's been on his feet all day. I ask him if he'll live....after all, he's been on his feet aaaallll day. He gets my teasing, and smiles...telling me to get outta here.
D-Hubby falls asleep on the couch--because he's exhausted, you know--while rocking Baby-M back to sleep in the bouncy chair for the next 5 times he wakes up before falling into a good, deep sleep. Finally. I do dishes...because I'm not spending the entire next day doing today's dishes again. I set up the laptop and watch Til Debt Do Us Part because I love that show. AND because I'm doing dishes alone. Which means I can't watch any of the shows that D-Hubby and I follow together. Grrrrrumble.... I throw garbage into an overflowing can that I've asked D-Hubby to empty five times already. I have a little mini-tirade in my head at him. And then I roll my eyes, at myself. Because he's actually doing a lot right. Just maybe not dishes and the garbage at the moment. Perspective, lady, perspective. I look into the living room at him pooped out on the couch. I look at him like I love him...my favourite thing to do when he's awake and he knows it...because it makes him squirm SO bad. He'd appreciate me saving my lovey-looks for when he doesn't know it. I smile out loud.
I really need to shower. And I really need to sleep. But I get on the computer to finish this post. And do a little before-bed email and Facebook checking. I call it decompressing. I stink a little. I think about the day tomorrow. I need to do a lot. I really hope that D-Hubby plans to be home so I can leave him with the cute sickos for a bit to do some pressing errands. If he is, I'm having a shower tomorrow morning instead of tonight. I want to sleep.
I'm getting off the computer to get in my jammies, put Baby-M in bed, and leave D-Hubby on the couch. He looooves to fall asleep on the couch, and I hate when he does because I loooove to snuggle him in our comfy bed....but tonight I'll leave him there, a treat for him. Because I love him or something. I'm going to thank Heavenly Father for a good, good day...a day I survived on little sleep, and one that was full of my sweet little babes and hubby.
And then I will sleep, so deep, until Baby-M gets up to eat.
SOoo, if you want to spend a boring day with me, or are curious about my bad parenting and want to feel better about your own parenting, or are just curious what my day is like with two sick babies, read on. If not, you're not missing anything. And it's detailed. Record-keeping's sake, remember? Right.
Strictly speaking, the day starts off at midnight.
At 3:30am, Baby-M wakes up to eat. At 4:30am, Baby-Rae wakes up because she's sick with a wicked cold...and crawls into bed with us. At 5:06am, D-Hubby's alarm wakes us up an hour too early...still set for the Saturday before when we got up to travel to the temple. Baby-Rae decides that she wants to get out of the bed, thinking it's rise-n-shine time. I climb out of bed, carry her into the living room to get her teddy bear, hoping to help her realize that it is still time for night-night's by doing something we often do before bed. It works. She goes back to sleep in her own bed. Excellent! Baby-M is up at 6:15am to eat again, about the time that D-Hubby has to get up to do the neighborhood paper route. I bring Baby-M into bed with me and we both fall asleep while he nurses. D-Hubby treks out into the chilly morning for the next half hour.
D-Hubby wakes Baby-M and I up around 7:45am so he can get ready in the room, and so we can drive him to school, like I had offered to the night before. D-Hubby and I exchange sleepy good mornings and smiles. D-Hubby takes advantage of a chubby-baby snuggle while Baby-M streeeeetches. I decide against going to the gym to work out as per usual: Baby-Rae would cough all sorts of contagion over every single kid in the daycare, I'm sure. I pull on a shirt, jeans, and re-do my hair into a messy bun. The usual. I 'nuke a couple frozen breakfast taquitos for D-Hubby. Change the soaking wet diapers of the babies. Get Baby-Rae a piece of a FruitSource bar to hold her over til we get home. And we're out.
Drop D-Hubby off. Share Love you, Bye!'s. Drive to the UPS store to drop off the package D-Hubby asked me to send off. Deposit cheque for grant we received in the mail a couple days earlier (woot woot!), pull out tithing. I'm starving. Find a sesame snack in the driver's side door from Saturday: devour. Drive home. Get Baby-Rae in house first because she doesn't have shoes on. Then I go get Baby-M out of car and into house.
Baby-Rae asks for a nyaaaa?(snack.) She's onwree (hungry). So we share a breakfast of plain yogurt sweetened with maple syrup. Add slivered almonds and I'm eating my favourite breakfast lately. Yeeee-ummm. Baby-Rae enjoys her yogurt minus the almonds...and we chat over breakfast while Baby-M gnaws on the pig toy of his exersaucer.
Breakfast is done. Sigh as I add our dishes to the leftover dishes that need to be washed. I hate starting a morning with dishes in the sink. Yee-uck. Tote Baby-Rae and Baby-M into the living room where she gets to watch a You-Tube episode of Winnie-the-Pooh in a side window....while I do the morning check of Facebook, Email, Blogs, Bank...all punctuated by frequent breaks to say where's did Tigger go? Can you see the tree? Where's the bee? and talk in overly animated grins to Baby-M on the floor, who is practicing his toe-grabbing skills. He smiles back every time. It's my favourite. I've still got a minute before Pooh ends, so I take advantage of it to quickly check the dress selection online at Old Navy and The Children's Place. I've got an Easter dress for Baby-Rae on the mind.
Pooh is over, so is my computer time. I carry Baby-M to the bedroom and plop him on the bed. Give him plentiful kisses, and tickle a giggle out of him. Hand him a toy to play with. Baby-Rae wants uuuhhp! uuuuhp! on the bed, too. Up she goes, gets a book, and I get out the Give-Away bag and empty my shirt drawer, being ruthless. Last night D-Hubby and I talked about needing new clothes for Spring and Summer. And the money for them. My brilliant idea is to sell the decent clothes I'm sick of to my favourite consignment store...then use the cash--or store credit--to re-vamp my wardrobe. I only keep the shirts I really like...and feel good after the purge. Baby-Rae is burying her face in her brother's tummy and talking in overly animated tones. I laugh at how familiar it sounds, and join her.
Tomorrow I'll purge the kids' clothes to do the same thing for their Spring/Summer wardrobe. Baby-M is growing out of clothes faster than I can say chubby baby.
Baby-M is fussy. Tired? Hungry? Both. I nurse him, but he falls asleep too soon. He wakes up when I try to put him down in his crib. Try to rock him back to sleep? Keep him up and put him down later? I choose the latter, mostly because Baby-Rae is underfoot, yelling over Baby-M's cries, babee, cwy? (baby, cry?) repeatedly...making putting him back to sleep next to impossible. Baby Rae wants another nyaaaa? (snack) and Baby-M is just grouchy. Baby-Rae gets cheese and crackers while Baby-M complains on the kitchen floor every time I leave his line of sight. An impression strikes me then about something I've been praying about: helping Baby-M sleep through the night. I feel like he would do well with learning how to fall asleep on his own while he can still see me. I file that answer away to use when we officially start sleep-training. Thanks, Heavenly Father.
I start dishes while Baby-Rae snacks, and Baby-M watches me warily...daring me to walk away. He's got a scream ready if I do. I manage to get through a few before Baby-Rae wants out. I need a productive way to keep her occupied: want to colour? She answers, ya! and I tape a huge piece of paper to the kitchen floor next to Baby-M and hand Baby-Rae some crayons. I realize I didn't get to do any kind of scripture study this morning. So I turn on the Mormon Channel and listen to Elder Holland and his wife talk about their life together while I wash dishes. I smile as they talk about the time in their life where they had two small children, he was in school, they had demanding church callings, and they had no money. I needed to hear about their experience, their struggle. I can SO relate and I'm uplifted. At this point Baby-Rae is done with colouring, Baby-M is done with life, and I'm far from done the dishes. We all just stop and snuggle on the couch while I nurse Baby-M to sleep again. Baby-Rae wants to be there so she can loudly proclaim ssshhh! baby seeep! (baby sleep) every time he starts to doze off. Oooh, baby girl, how you test my patience. Good thing you're so darn cute, I say out loud. She just looks at me. I smile. She smiles. And Baby-M is aaaaaalmost asleep.
Once Baby-M is out, cold, I put him on my bed to nap, anticipating that I'll be able to put Baby-Rae down for an early nap soon as well. If they both nap at the same time, I might get to sneak a nap in, too! The lack of sleep the night before is making this morning seem especially long. I don't get too excited. Good thing, too. I snuggle with Baby-Rae at the computer while I jot down a few things for this post, and we watch an episode of Caillou together. I decide that I definitely am not a fan. I've been a fence-sitter on Caillou for a long time...but I just can't stand how whiney he is...and how he's not a problem-solver...he just whines to the adults to fix everything. Not something I want Baby-Rae imitating. Just as I'm getting ready to put Baby-Rae down for her early nap...Baby-M wakes up. NOT a long enough nap, as far as I'm concerned. His cry sounds hoarse...he must be getting Baby-Rae's cold. Awesome. Poor baby probably just feels gross and can't get settled. My exasperation at no nap for me melts away in light of this realization. My poor sickos.
Baby-Rae falls asleep quickly. Baby-M is happy for a little bit. We play peek-a-boo, and he laughs heartily at all my funny noises. My kids definitely give me a false sense of how funny I am. I am totally hilarious, according to them. I love it. I go to check something on the computer, and he's having none of it. He refuses to be happy doing anything at that point. After several attempts to wrap him tight and rock him to sleep, I figure I might be able to get him to go to sleep in his bouncy chair. He often seems to prefer the bouncing motion of the chair over the rocking motion of being held while being put to sleep. Hmph. All sorts of I'm-a-horrible-mom thoughts fight each other for air-time. I manage to shut them up as he drifts off to sleep quietly while I watch his sweet, chubby, sleepy little face. No, for now, this is okay for him. He's being loved not neglected. So shut your face, I tell those negative thoughts. I win this time. Barely. I pick up Baby-M, snuggle him for a minute or two, then place him on my non-bouncing bed where he finishes out his nap.
I field a call from a lady wanting to buy our baby swing off Kijiji. I sit down to write some of this out. Then fight with myself over whether to have a nap...or finish the dishes. One side says I need some sleep after last night to make it through the day halfway sane. One side says I need the relief that will come with having those dishes off my mind and outta my sink. Why are both sides right? No. Fair. I figure I can still work through dishes while the kids are awake....albeit, slowly...but can't nap while they're awake....so I choose to nap. I realize I'm starving, first off. I search through the cupboards for something fast, I'm wasting nap-time, here! D-Hubby calls to share a school triumph. Woo-hoo! I'm still hungry...but we have nothing quick, and I want that nap. I drink some water instead. I snuggle up to Baby-M on my bed and give him a kiss. Which wakes him up. I successfully nurse him back to sleep...and just as I start to doze off, I hear Baby-Rae's little lips pressed into the crack of her door: Maaam? Maaaam? Mamaaa?
No nap today.
Baby Rae and I wash dishes together. Well.... I wash, she splashes. We wear sunglasses because that's her new favorite thing to do. I laugh when she looks at me, glasses on upside down and barely a nose to rest on. She laughs, too. Maybe I look just as funny. She points to the water she's splashed onto the counter. Uh-oooh...., she informs me. I repeat her sentiment with a mock serious impression. She watches me, waiting for the inevitable smile she knows is coming. I do not disappoint and we clean up the water together, taking turns saying our own versions of the word water. Baby-M starts a-hollering from the bedroom.
The rest of the afternoon is spent eating cheese quesadillas with sour-cream-and-salsa-and-taco-seasoning dipping sauce. We three read stories. I nurse Baby-M, change diapers, make funny noises, laugh with my babies. I try to get Baby-M to take a nap longer than 15 min. It's not happening. I call D-Hubby to find out when he plans to be home. The lady comes to pick up the swing. A friend stops by to pick something up and we visit for a few minutes. I talk to my mom on the phone and make Baby-Rae say hello, and do a few more tricks. We scrounge up a can of soup for dinner, which is about all the effort I feel like making at the moment. I check a few blogs while Baby-Rae and Baby-M play. Baby-Rae and I sing some songs together; her favourite is always The Itsy Bitsy Spider. Around Bedtime, I go to give them some baby Tylenol...and can't find it. Baby-M is downright fed up with being awake, but won't fall asleep...so I figure running out to WalMart will be a good little car ride to help him konk out for a bit.
We head to WalMart. Pick up Baby Tylenol. Wander aimlessly for a few minutes, just to stretch the outing out a little longer. Baby-M sleeps. Baby-Rae throws the box of medicine at Baby-M saying deh'go (there you go). Make impulse chocolate bar purchase for this recipe. Make Baby Rae cover her mouth every time she starts hacking. And leave with medicine and chocolate bars.
Pull into driveway the exact same time D-Hubby arrives. I'm pleasantly surprised at his early homecoming. I've missed him today. A kiss hello! We enter the house. He pulls off his backpack, we tag-team getting Baby-Rae in bed...story, teeth, prayers, maybe a song, goodnight. I wrap Baby-M up tight, nurse him to sleep, and ask D-Hubby to have a little Family Home Evening, even if it's just us. He agrees. We read an article from the Ensign Magazine on Family Prayer, something we're trying to be better at doing consistently. We agree that it's an awesome article. D-Hubby's exhausted, he's been on his feet all day. I ask him if he'll live....after all, he's been on his feet aaaallll day. He gets my teasing, and smiles...telling me to get outta here.
D-Hubby falls asleep on the couch--because he's exhausted, you know--while rocking Baby-M back to sleep in the bouncy chair for the next 5 times he wakes up before falling into a good, deep sleep. Finally. I do dishes...because I'm not spending the entire next day doing today's dishes again. I set up the laptop and watch Til Debt Do Us Part because I love that show. AND because I'm doing dishes alone. Which means I can't watch any of the shows that D-Hubby and I follow together. Grrrrrumble.... I throw garbage into an overflowing can that I've asked D-Hubby to empty five times already. I have a little mini-tirade in my head at him. And then I roll my eyes, at myself. Because he's actually doing a lot right. Just maybe not dishes and the garbage at the moment. Perspective, lady, perspective. I look into the living room at him pooped out on the couch. I look at him like I love him...my favourite thing to do when he's awake and he knows it...because it makes him squirm SO bad. He'd appreciate me saving my lovey-looks for when he doesn't know it. I smile out loud.
I really need to shower. And I really need to sleep. But I get on the computer to finish this post. And do a little before-bed email and Facebook checking. I call it decompressing. I stink a little. I think about the day tomorrow. I need to do a lot. I really hope that D-Hubby plans to be home so I can leave him with the cute sickos for a bit to do some pressing errands. If he is, I'm having a shower tomorrow morning instead of tonight. I want to sleep.
I'm getting off the computer to get in my jammies, put Baby-M in bed, and leave D-Hubby on the couch. He looooves to fall asleep on the couch, and I hate when he does because I loooove to snuggle him in our comfy bed....but tonight I'll leave him there, a treat for him. Because I love him or something. I'm going to thank Heavenly Father for a good, good day...a day I survived on little sleep, and one that was full of my sweet little babes and hubby.
And then I will sleep, so deep, until Baby-M gets up to eat.
Sunday, March 20, 2011
And So I Conclude.
These past few weeks have been ridiculous.
They included a couple weekend trips away, several 13-hr days of babysitting the Toddler, heading up the decorating committee for a major Relief Society event, a specialist's appointment for Baby-Rae on the same day as decorating AND babysitting, and a major living room overhaul so D-Hubby could turn it into a studio for a couple photo shoots. I'm dizzy.
But! It also has been an enlightening few weeks. I've learned:
-I won't be having three children under the age of three. This occurred to me one night when I was also babysitting the Toddler, who is 2.5 yrs old. D-Hubby was gone for the evening. Baby Rae had a huuuuge pooh earlier that day which had resulted in her first major diaper rash. I had convinced her and the Toddler to have a bath in the hopes that it would relieve some of the discomfort she was feeling "down there." Baby-Rae wanted out sooner than the Toddler, so I got her out of the tub. With no ointment on her bum, she refused to walk on her own because her poor little bum cheeks rubbed together (Too much info? Ha.) So while she's crying, refusing to be put down, the Toddler suddenly decides that she wants to get out, too, and proceeds to try and climb out herself. So with a slippery toddler trying to scale the tub (you'llslipandfallsositdownforafewminutesandi'llhelpyouwheni'mdone!), and no arms to stop her because Baby-Rae is hollering while I'm holding her.... Baby-M decides he's screaming-hungry and starts hollering from the living room. Having three kids under three had never really occurred to me before...but it sure won't occur to me again after that moment. Whew! I am SO impressed with the women that do that. I guess you can do anything if you have to...but still! Tough stuff.
-I love road trips with my D-Hubby. Our kids are still little...too little to get most of what we say...which affords us the greatest talks while on the road. The trips to and from The Land of the Extended Family are 6-7 hours by car, with kids. I love that time. No computers, no kitchen, no house to clean...just us, and a whole lotta time.
-I am definitely NOT detail-oriented. And I am SO okay with that. I married someone who is. Most of my closest friends are. A couple of ladies on my committee for decorating were. And the president of the Relief Society is. Which is awesome, really. I enjoy paying attention to the details...but am pretty quick to ditch them when I feel like the big picture is getting lost. It may just be a defensive mechanism so that I don't get overwhelmed, I'll admit that possibility. But whoa, baby! I felt the pressure this week. Just relaaaaaax, I wanted to say SO many times this week, the most important part is that the Spirit is felt! Not the colour of the flowers. This, however, was also something I had to tell myself when the decor wasn't as "cute" as I'd hoped. Vanity, all vanity on my part. Oh well. We all gave a little, worked as a team, and had a good time. That's the big picture...right? Gaaah. I'm friiiied.
-I am glad I'm not a single mom. The past couple weekends D-Hubby was shooting (photos) for a couple sports tournaments. He was gone constantly. The whole weekend. Both weekends. I was staying with my family...mom, dad, and siblings galore! Who were beyond helpful. SO awesome. And still... I missed his help. It's so comforting to know that I have someone else who can call the shots and make decisions, who feels as much ownership of...and responsibility for... my kids and their ultimate well-being as I do. How awesome is that?
-I am actually just fine with my life the way it is. The past few months, I've had very few extra church responsibilities to carry out. And I've missed it. I love playing an active, participatory role in building up the Kingdom and giving my time and talents for it. Though, I have loved that it has given me more time to focus on my kids and really getting into a flexible routine for maintaining my life and home. Being able to participate in getting this recent church event together was great. Exhausting and stressful, but I really did enjoy it. However, it gave me a greater appreciation for the current simplicity of my life right now. I missed my kids!...even though I was still with them, most of the time! It felt like my mind was constantly elsewhere. I always had a mental list running through my head of things I still needed to get, people I still needed to call, what still needed to happen. The amount of time I spent just stopping and really looking at and really listening to my kids dropped dramatically. And I missed it! I missed them. Lesson learned: treasure these sweet (relatively) uncomplicated days with my sweet babies...and quit trying to pack my life with stuff. AND the most important thing I could be doing to "get my hands" dirty in doing the Lord's work is raising my kids to love and serve Him...and to be there to teach them how. That's the good stuff. The meat and potatoes of my important responsibilities! And while I'll welcome the opportunity to serve in the church when it comes, I'm just fine with the way things are until then, too.
Yumm...meat and potatoes....I'm hungry.
They included a couple weekend trips away, several 13-hr days of babysitting the Toddler, heading up the decorating committee for a major Relief Society event, a specialist's appointment for Baby-Rae on the same day as decorating AND babysitting, and a major living room overhaul so D-Hubby could turn it into a studio for a couple photo shoots. I'm dizzy.
But! It also has been an enlightening few weeks. I've learned:
-I won't be having three children under the age of three. This occurred to me one night when I was also babysitting the Toddler, who is 2.5 yrs old. D-Hubby was gone for the evening. Baby Rae had a huuuuge pooh earlier that day which had resulted in her first major diaper rash. I had convinced her and the Toddler to have a bath in the hopes that it would relieve some of the discomfort she was feeling "down there." Baby-Rae wanted out sooner than the Toddler, so I got her out of the tub. With no ointment on her bum, she refused to walk on her own because her poor little bum cheeks rubbed together (Too much info? Ha.) So while she's crying, refusing to be put down, the Toddler suddenly decides that she wants to get out, too, and proceeds to try and climb out herself. So with a slippery toddler trying to scale the tub (you'llslipandfallsositdownforafewminutesandi'llhelpyouwheni'mdone!), and no arms to stop her because Baby-Rae is hollering while I'm holding her.... Baby-M decides he's screaming-hungry and starts hollering from the living room. Having three kids under three had never really occurred to me before...but it sure won't occur to me again after that moment. Whew! I am SO impressed with the women that do that. I guess you can do anything if you have to...but still! Tough stuff.
-I love road trips with my D-Hubby. Our kids are still little...too little to get most of what we say...which affords us the greatest talks while on the road. The trips to and from The Land of the Extended Family are 6-7 hours by car, with kids. I love that time. No computers, no kitchen, no house to clean...just us, and a whole lotta time.
-I am definitely NOT detail-oriented. And I am SO okay with that. I married someone who is. Most of my closest friends are. A couple of ladies on my committee for decorating were. And the president of the Relief Society is. Which is awesome, really. I enjoy paying attention to the details...but am pretty quick to ditch them when I feel like the big picture is getting lost. It may just be a defensive mechanism so that I don't get overwhelmed, I'll admit that possibility. But whoa, baby! I felt the pressure this week. Just relaaaaaax, I wanted to say SO many times this week, the most important part is that the Spirit is felt! Not the colour of the flowers. This, however, was also something I had to tell myself when the decor wasn't as "cute" as I'd hoped. Vanity, all vanity on my part. Oh well. We all gave a little, worked as a team, and had a good time. That's the big picture...right? Gaaah. I'm friiiied.
-I am glad I'm not a single mom. The past couple weekends D-Hubby was shooting (photos) for a couple sports tournaments. He was gone constantly. The whole weekend. Both weekends. I was staying with my family...mom, dad, and siblings galore! Who were beyond helpful. SO awesome. And still... I missed his help. It's so comforting to know that I have someone else who can call the shots and make decisions, who feels as much ownership of...and responsibility for... my kids and their ultimate well-being as I do. How awesome is that?
-I am actually just fine with my life the way it is. The past few months, I've had very few extra church responsibilities to carry out. And I've missed it. I love playing an active, participatory role in building up the Kingdom and giving my time and talents for it. Though, I have loved that it has given me more time to focus on my kids and really getting into a flexible routine for maintaining my life and home. Being able to participate in getting this recent church event together was great. Exhausting and stressful, but I really did enjoy it. However, it gave me a greater appreciation for the current simplicity of my life right now. I missed my kids!...even though I was still with them, most of the time! It felt like my mind was constantly elsewhere. I always had a mental list running through my head of things I still needed to get, people I still needed to call, what still needed to happen. The amount of time I spent just stopping and really looking at and really listening to my kids dropped dramatically. And I missed it! I missed them. Lesson learned: treasure these sweet (relatively) uncomplicated days with my sweet babies...and quit trying to pack my life with stuff. AND the most important thing I could be doing to "get my hands" dirty in doing the Lord's work is raising my kids to love and serve Him...and to be there to teach them how. That's the good stuff. The meat and potatoes of my important responsibilities! And while I'll welcome the opportunity to serve in the church when it comes, I'm just fine with the way things are until then, too.
Yumm...meat and potatoes....I'm hungry.
Monday, February 28, 2011
Sunday, February 13, 2011
The Facebook Hammer.
I heard it again today: someone saying how much they hate Facebook. And by hate, they actually mean love so much it's unhealthy. I've heard the same thing about blogging: "I've got to quit blogging," like they're giving up a hard drug.
I totally get it. It's so easy to spend way too much time on it. It's so easy to get sucked in. It's so easy to turn into a major creeper and try to find out way more than you need to know about someone else's life. It's so easy to get majorly self-absorbed and assume that every facet of your life is worth sharing with EVERYONE you know. And seriously: sometimes you leave people behind in your life for a reason. No need to keep in touch. No need to get depressed about how their choosing to live their life when they were so much better than that! Argh!
Seriously. I get it.
But I know that when those thoughts start running through my mind, it's time to plug into my internet mantra:
Use it. Don't let it use you.
So zen, right?
Because, really, saying I hate social media sites is like saying I hate hammers. They're tools. That's it. And like the hammer, it can only hurt me if I'm mis-using it or I'm not careful.
Maybe a better example is a credit card: Facebook is like a box of chocolates credit card. It can do so much good (do you know how much free gas we've gotten by using credit cards right? It's awesome.) but it can also do so SO much baaaad. If I use them right, they're my tool, I control them for wise purposes. Don't let them control me, and we've got a working, healthy relationship going on here. No need for all-out get-out-of-my-life banishment.
Though, again, I get it. I get how sometimes, when you're having a hard time, cold turkey is the best way to go. Like how sometimes, a cash-only budget is a necessity for someone who really struggles with using a credit card wisely. Or how you have to swear off cutting up carrots for a while because you cut your finger every. single. time. Gah!
When I feel like I'm starting to drown in social media, I have to stop and take inventory of why it's getting so chronically appealing. For me, it's usually because I haven't made time to connect with others outside the walls of my home...and am feeling socially starved. A quick fix is a phone call to a friend or long-distance family member. Or to sit down and write an old fashioned email...or (gasp!) paper and pen letter. (Those are so fun, p.s.) Or call a friend that second and invite them over for lunch the next day. But it's different at different times for me...and it's different for everyone else, I think....as far as what makes it tempting to misuse and what fixes the prob.
But if you'll excuse me, I have a Facebook status to update. About how I just blogged about Facebook.
Kidding!
I laugh at all my own jokes around here.
Tuesday, February 8, 2011
The Millet Militia.
Okay, confession:
I love food.
Weird? I know. Who loves food? I mean, really.
What I love most about food, though, is when it's real. And clean. And nutritious. AND, most importantly, tastes good. I love tasty, real food. I actually get really excited about it. And spend inordinate amounts of time learning about my food: where it comes from, how to grow it (for when my dreams of a garden become concrete. Boo to renting on that count for now), what makes it nutritious, what it can do for the health of my body, AND...most importantly....how to make it, and make it delicious...and keep it nutritious.
Oh, baby, I love my food.
My hubby loves food, too, but it's a different kind. It's the pretend kind. The kind that fizzes. And coats your tongue with sugar. And tastes good. But that's okay, because I like it sometimes, too. More than sometimes, even. And it keeps my feet on the ground when I start floating away into my spaghetti-squash dreams. And although it really is important to me to enjoy the taste of my food, sometimes his definition and my definition of "tastes good" differs. SOooo it also challenges me to find ways to prepare my favorite, deliciously real foods in ways that are yummy to me, but also appealing to him. And when I say challenge...I mean it. I'll get something to a point where I can't-get-enough-of-it-it's-so-scrumptious and hand it to him with high hopes....and get a wrinkled nose with "well...it's okaaay but..." And I'll make a mental note to try something different with it next time....while gladly keeping this round aaaallll to myself. Yumyumyum. Oh, and Baby-Rae. She's usually a good sport when it comes to food.
Anyways.
I've been really curious about different grains lately. Curious enough to buy some to experiment with.
Like millet, for example.
Last night, I cooked up a tidy little amount in my rice cooker (with the same water to grain ratio I would use if making rice) and hopped on the Millet Train with both feet. Here goes nothing, thought I.
This morning, I had it for brekky. I just warmed it up and prepared it like I would a bowl of oatmeal for myself: some maple syrup, milk, and a spoonful of peanut butter on the side. It worked! The texture is grainier than oatmeal, but I liked the change. Star for millet as breakfast.
For dinner this evening, I was inspired by this recipe. But the head of cauliflower I had on hand got burnt to shame in the oven a few nights earlier, thanks to my psycho appliance (No, really, it was totally my oven. Not me even a little bit. At all.). That is a different story altogether. So I was cauliflower-less. Therefore: I improvised. And soon a bunch of millet, a can of lima (butter) beans, some chicken broth, a few cloves of garlic and an onion (both sauteed) all got blended together into a mashy pile of mashed-potato-looking stuff. And it was goooood: Mild enough to cheer on my gravy, and nutritious enough to do my body good, but tasty enough on its own to repeat again. And again. You'd really have to blend it like crazy in order for it to have the same consistency as potatoes, but if you just expect it to be--again--a little grainier, than you're set. Checkmark for millet as dinner.
Go, millet!
I'm still curious as to how else I can use the stuff, but for now, I think I'll just eat the rest for breakfast tomorrow. My next curiosity to satisfy is what-the-heck spelt berries taste like all cooked up. And I'll spend too long when I should be going to bed looking for recipes to try out with them. (Sigh!)
Oh, the burdens of a food addict.
I love food.
Weird? I know. Who loves food? I mean, really.
What I love most about food, though, is when it's real. And clean. And nutritious. AND, most importantly, tastes good. I love tasty, real food. I actually get really excited about it. And spend inordinate amounts of time learning about my food: where it comes from, how to grow it (for when my dreams of a garden become concrete. Boo to renting on that count for now), what makes it nutritious, what it can do for the health of my body, AND...most importantly....how to make it, and make it delicious...and keep it nutritious.
Oh, baby, I love my food.
My hubby loves food, too, but it's a different kind. It's the pretend kind. The kind that fizzes. And coats your tongue with sugar. And tastes good. But that's okay, because I like it sometimes, too. More than sometimes, even. And it keeps my feet on the ground when I start floating away into my spaghetti-squash dreams. And although it really is important to me to enjoy the taste of my food, sometimes his definition and my definition of "tastes good" differs. SOooo it also challenges me to find ways to prepare my favorite, deliciously real foods in ways that are yummy to me, but also appealing to him. And when I say challenge...I mean it. I'll get something to a point where I can't-get-enough-of-it-it's-so-scrumptious and hand it to him with high hopes....and get a wrinkled nose with "well...it's okaaay but..." And I'll make a mental note to try something different with it next time....while gladly keeping this round aaaallll to myself. Yumyumyum. Oh, and Baby-Rae. She's usually a good sport when it comes to food.
Anyways.
I've been really curious about different grains lately. Curious enough to buy some to experiment with.
Like millet, for example.
 |
| Photo Credit |
This morning, I had it for brekky. I just warmed it up and prepared it like I would a bowl of oatmeal for myself: some maple syrup, milk, and a spoonful of peanut butter on the side. It worked! The texture is grainier than oatmeal, but I liked the change. Star for millet as breakfast.
For dinner this evening, I was inspired by this recipe. But the head of cauliflower I had on hand got burnt to shame in the oven a few nights earlier, thanks to my psycho appliance (No, really, it was totally my oven. Not me even a little bit. At all.). That is a different story altogether. So I was cauliflower-less. Therefore: I improvised. And soon a bunch of millet, a can of lima (butter) beans, some chicken broth, a few cloves of garlic and an onion (both sauteed) all got blended together into a mashy pile of mashed-potato-looking stuff. And it was goooood: Mild enough to cheer on my gravy, and nutritious enough to do my body good, but tasty enough on its own to repeat again. And again. You'd really have to blend it like crazy in order for it to have the same consistency as potatoes, but if you just expect it to be--again--a little grainier, than you're set. Checkmark for millet as dinner.
Go, millet!
I'm still curious as to how else I can use the stuff, but for now, I think I'll just eat the rest for breakfast tomorrow. My next curiosity to satisfy is what-the-heck spelt berries taste like all cooked up. And I'll spend too long when I should be going to bed looking for recipes to try out with them. (Sigh!)
Oh, the burdens of a food addict.
Friday, February 4, 2011
Finally Finished.
I really had no idea how to make a quilt before I set out to make this one. I still don't really know how. I just know that it's basically batting between two pieces of material, held together with thread or yarn.
Ta-daaa! I know, you're impressed with my vast quilting knowledge, it's okay to say it.
Anyways. My ma-in-law and I found these pieces of fabric (I think one was actually a tablecloth...) at the thrift store that matched her room exactly. A good wash later, they were ready to go.
I wanted the actual quilt-pattern-part to be free-form and swirly. That's it.
And three months after starting it, it's now finished. Three quarters of it were finished in the first 24 hours after getting the stuff, thanks to said Ma-in-Law. The last quarter was finished yesterday. Three months later.
I plead new baby.
At least it's finished...and we're fans, Baby-Rae and I.
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