I'm not sure what prompted me to even think about this blog- apparently it totally fell off my radar. In my defense, it's been a busy time.
I became a leader instead remaining a worker bee like I talked about in the E post. It wasn't heroic, though, just necessary and it made me truly appreciate when I found hidden talents in other.
I tried something new, learned a lot, decided I bit off more than I wanted to chew and said, "enough".
I watched my kids try something new- swim team- and it's been amazing. When #1 started (probably not coincidentally about the time this blog fell off the radar!) he could make it from one end of the pool to the other, and getting up him on the blocks was a challenge some days. But somehow, over the past 3 winters, he's become a swimmer. Not the fastest swimmer, but one who'll try new events without backing down. He swam the 500 free- 10 laps- this year for the first time. He might say that he'd quit, but I think he'd his friends. #2 and #3 started the summer after #1 started- they were just a few months sort of 7. They went from "that pool looks really long!" and being nervous about swimming a 25 free to each making state this year. Their competitive fires have been lit and it's fun to watch them set goals and really push for something.
For all of them, it's carried over to school. I'm gonna brag here- going to conferences was a lot of fun! What parent doesn't like to hear how great their kids are?!?! Even #4, she of the "my way or the highway" mindset has grown into a little girl ready to face the challenges of being 6.
They are growing up. They may be 10 or 8 or 6, but sometimes they want to be "little"- hugged, snuggled, protected, nurtured- and other times, they want to be "big"- challenged, testing the limits and being reined in.
In a nutshell, I bought #1 deodorant today for the first time. I realized he might need to start using it when he was snuggling in my lap.
Wednesday, April 1, 2015
Thursday, January 31, 2013
F is for Facebook
I love Facebook. If that makes me pedestrian or uncool or whatever, fine. I own it. I've got everyone from my sister to my mother-in-law to my sorority sisters on there. Need a quick answer? Facebook. Need something funny or stupid or just inappropriate enough to make you snort? Facebook.
Wednesday, January 30, 2013
E is for Energy
en·er·gy
/ˈenərjē/
Noun
| |
Synonyms
|
I should give god and Mother Nature a little shout out here. Monday was a snow (actually ice) day and today is snowy and windy with many schools around us canceling or delaying classes. Last night, though, was quite decent and the carnival didn't falter under weather fears. Many many prayers were answered:).
Monday, January 28, 2013
D is for Dog
I love our dog, Oliver. He is a black and tan purebred Cavalier King Charles Spaniel and pretty much the dog I'd dreamed of having for about 10 years- ever since I'd seen a picture of some CKCS and their cute little puppy faces. We got Oliver not from a breeder, but the animal shelter. I will just say it was fate.
It was about a year ago in early January. His owner had to surrender him to the animal shelter because she had cancer and wasn't able to take care of him. I had contemplated getting a dog for quite a while, but my husband was, ahem, less than excited. Our local paper posts a picture of an available shelter dog every day and I'd seen a shih tzu cross that looked like the type of dog that would fit in our house. After helping the girls' class at school, I had about an hour to kill so I thought I'd stop in and see what the procedure was and what dogs they had. I'd never even set foot in the place before and I'm still not sure why I picked the animal shelter instead heading to my usual spot, Target.
When I got to the shelter, I explained that we had 4 small kids, were thinking about a dog, and needed one that was small and kid friendly. I mentioned the shih tzu, but the young man at the desk said that an application for adoption had already been made. Then he said, "We just got a new dog in today. He's still in the vet room. It's a young spaniel, if you want to take a look." He stopped to look at some papers. "It's a Cavalier King Charles Spaniel."
My heart jumped. I didn't want to seem too eager, but I'd been in love with the breed for years, ever since seeing them on the Westminster Kennel Club dog show. Over the years, I'd read about them and how they were loving, great with kids, very sociable, snuggly, and basically everything I wanted in a dog. I'd looked at breeders, but they're definitely not cheap dogs and I was leery of puppy mills. I'm a firm believer in rescue dogs and felt that a dog from the animal shelter would be a better choice so a purebred CKCS seemed like it would remain just a wish.
"Sure, I'll take a look at him," I said. As soon as I saw him, I began thinking of how I was going to convince my husband. Oliver was *sweet*. He came over, licked my hand, gave me the big puppy eyes, and I was done. I petted him, held him in my lap, texted a picture to my husband, then made the call. It went something like:
Me: I think I found a dog
Husband: We don't need a dog
Me: I know, but he's perfect. He's a Cavalier. (Husband is very familiar with my love of these)
Husband: We still don't need a dog.
Me: <pause> I'm bring him home.
I filled out the form, including 3 references, and by the time I'd gotten back over to school to pick up #2 (#3 was home sick that day), the shelter had called and said that my application had been approved. #2 and I stopped at Target (see, I ended up there anyway!) and I headed to the pet aisle to get supplies. #2 was fairly confused about why we would be buying dog food until she realized we were really getting a dog!
We picked up Oliver and headed home. His sojourn at the shelter had lasted just 2 hours between the time he was dropped off and when he came home with us. On the way home, I mentally prepared for the second hurdle- my mom. She lives with us, helps with the kids, and has never been a huge fan of animals in the house. So here I come with a house dog. Surprise!
Fortunately she didn't pack up and leave:) Oliver charmed her, as well as #3 and #4, and #1 could barely believe we had a dog even when he sat on the couch.
Long story slightly less long: getting a dog past the puppy stage is fantastic. He was basically house-trained, walks well on a leash, and has no really annoying habits other than barking at any and all dogs (including cartoon ones) or anything that looks like a dog on TV. He's "Mom's dog". Dad tolerates him, the kids love him although he's a little wary of them, but he worships me. He sits outside my bedroom door waiting for the chance to slip in, lies under my desk, and would ride anywhere in the truck with me. Basically, he follows me around like a puppy dog. He makes it impossible to not talk to people when I have him with me. He loves going to pickup at school and getting petted by all the kids' friends, although they do have one little friend from Korea who thinks of dogs like we'd think of a pet rat or snake. She's warming up a bit, but I do wish I had a picture of the look on her face when Oliver licked #3!
So here's my PSA for the day: Don't think you can't find your perfect dog at a shelter :)
This was the picture I texted my husband. Seriously, who could resist this face??
It was about a year ago in early January. His owner had to surrender him to the animal shelter because she had cancer and wasn't able to take care of him. I had contemplated getting a dog for quite a while, but my husband was, ahem, less than excited. Our local paper posts a picture of an available shelter dog every day and I'd seen a shih tzu cross that looked like the type of dog that would fit in our house. After helping the girls' class at school, I had about an hour to kill so I thought I'd stop in and see what the procedure was and what dogs they had. I'd never even set foot in the place before and I'm still not sure why I picked the animal shelter instead heading to my usual spot, Target.
When I got to the shelter, I explained that we had 4 small kids, were thinking about a dog, and needed one that was small and kid friendly. I mentioned the shih tzu, but the young man at the desk said that an application for adoption had already been made. Then he said, "We just got a new dog in today. He's still in the vet room. It's a young spaniel, if you want to take a look." He stopped to look at some papers. "It's a Cavalier King Charles Spaniel."
My heart jumped. I didn't want to seem too eager, but I'd been in love with the breed for years, ever since seeing them on the Westminster Kennel Club dog show. Over the years, I'd read about them and how they were loving, great with kids, very sociable, snuggly, and basically everything I wanted in a dog. I'd looked at breeders, but they're definitely not cheap dogs and I was leery of puppy mills. I'm a firm believer in rescue dogs and felt that a dog from the animal shelter would be a better choice so a purebred CKCS seemed like it would remain just a wish.
"Sure, I'll take a look at him," I said. As soon as I saw him, I began thinking of how I was going to convince my husband. Oliver was *sweet*. He came over, licked my hand, gave me the big puppy eyes, and I was done. I petted him, held him in my lap, texted a picture to my husband, then made the call. It went something like:
Me: I think I found a dog
Husband: We don't need a dog
Me: I know, but he's perfect. He's a Cavalier. (Husband is very familiar with my love of these)
Husband: We still don't need a dog.
Me: <pause> I'm bring him home.
I filled out the form, including 3 references, and by the time I'd gotten back over to school to pick up #2 (#3 was home sick that day), the shelter had called and said that my application had been approved. #2 and I stopped at Target (see, I ended up there anyway!) and I headed to the pet aisle to get supplies. #2 was fairly confused about why we would be buying dog food until she realized we were really getting a dog!
We picked up Oliver and headed home. His sojourn at the shelter had lasted just 2 hours between the time he was dropped off and when he came home with us. On the way home, I mentally prepared for the second hurdle- my mom. She lives with us, helps with the kids, and has never been a huge fan of animals in the house. So here I come with a house dog. Surprise!
Fortunately she didn't pack up and leave:) Oliver charmed her, as well as #3 and #4, and #1 could barely believe we had a dog even when he sat on the couch.
Long story slightly less long: getting a dog past the puppy stage is fantastic. He was basically house-trained, walks well on a leash, and has no really annoying habits other than barking at any and all dogs (including cartoon ones) or anything that looks like a dog on TV. He's "Mom's dog". Dad tolerates him, the kids love him although he's a little wary of them, but he worships me. He sits outside my bedroom door waiting for the chance to slip in, lies under my desk, and would ride anywhere in the truck with me. Basically, he follows me around like a puppy dog. He makes it impossible to not talk to people when I have him with me. He loves going to pickup at school and getting petted by all the kids' friends, although they do have one little friend from Korea who thinks of dogs like we'd think of a pet rat or snake. She's warming up a bit, but I do wish I had a picture of the look on her face when Oliver licked #3!
So here's my PSA for the day: Don't think you can't find your perfect dog at a shelter :)
Sunday, January 27, 2013
C for Catholic
I grew up Catholic and have always maintained a "Catholic identity" even during a period of poor Mass attendance in college. My husband also came from a strong Catholic family, our kids now go to Catholic school, and we attend Mass weekly. One of my favorite parts of the week is going to Mass with the kids at school.
That being said, I'm probably what many would call a "bad Catholic". We've used birth control. I don't think people who are gay are "gravely disordered" and I do think they should have a right to be married in the eyes of the law. Abortion is more difficult for me to wrap my head around. I don't think making it illegal will make it go away, but I think it needs to be backed by "medical need" and not a form of birth control. We, as a society, do a very poor job at teaching people about their bodies, about sex, about reproduction and that starts the domino effect of negatives attached to sex, included unwanted pregnancy. We need to teach everyone about their bodies, how their brains and hormones influence their actions, encourage learning how to respect and be committed before sex. I think that's part of "loving thy neighbor as thyself" and not being more obedient to the letter of the law than to the spirit of the law.
So I struggle. I struggle to live my faith and show my non-Catholic friends why I stay in the Church even when its positions are contrary to my own. I struggle to find a way to fit my beliefs into the framework of the Church and, most importantly to find a way to be true to God, Jesus, my family, myself. Every time I hear a homily about taking up our cross and following Jesus, I know I don't do enough. I could give more time and money, but I'm scared that it will stretch me beyond my comfort zone. That's actually the point of sacrifice, but I don't want it to be about me. I don't want to feel "put out" by doing it. I want it to feel like it's a calling. I think I'll get there eventually, but for now, I'll keep slogging along and watch for my opportunity.
That being said, I'm probably what many would call a "bad Catholic". We've used birth control. I don't think people who are gay are "gravely disordered" and I do think they should have a right to be married in the eyes of the law. Abortion is more difficult for me to wrap my head around. I don't think making it illegal will make it go away, but I think it needs to be backed by "medical need" and not a form of birth control. We, as a society, do a very poor job at teaching people about their bodies, about sex, about reproduction and that starts the domino effect of negatives attached to sex, included unwanted pregnancy. We need to teach everyone about their bodies, how their brains and hormones influence their actions, encourage learning how to respect and be committed before sex. I think that's part of "loving thy neighbor as thyself" and not being more obedient to the letter of the law than to the spirit of the law.
So I struggle. I struggle to live my faith and show my non-Catholic friends why I stay in the Church even when its positions are contrary to my own. I struggle to find a way to fit my beliefs into the framework of the Church and, most importantly to find a way to be true to God, Jesus, my family, myself. Every time I hear a homily about taking up our cross and following Jesus, I know I don't do enough. I could give more time and money, but I'm scared that it will stretch me beyond my comfort zone. That's actually the point of sacrifice, but I don't want it to be about me. I don't want to feel "put out" by doing it. I want it to feel like it's a calling. I think I'll get there eventually, but for now, I'll keep slogging along and watch for my opportunity.
Saturday, January 26, 2013
B is for Balance
B is for Balance
How do you know when a child is ready to try something new? A new activity, night away from home, riding their bike out of your sight?
Where's the happy medium between "helicopter parent" and "neglectful parent"?
When do you intervene and when do you let the chips fall where they may?
What's "the line" that you don't let them cross without comment? When does sassy turn into disrespectful?
So this is where the 180° mama really comes out. I want my kids to be kids others want to be around. I want them to be smart, capable, friendly, kind. They usually are, but when they are clingy, whiny, yelly, and sassy (the 4 dwarves that didn't make the cut!), I feel at a loss. How many times can you say, "Quiet voice in the house, please" before you either give up or get out the duct tape?
How do you know when a child is ready to try something new? A new activity, night away from home, riding their bike out of your sight?
Where's the happy medium between "helicopter parent" and "neglectful parent"?
When do you intervene and when do you let the chips fall where they may?
What's "the line" that you don't let them cross without comment? When does sassy turn into disrespectful?
So this is where the 180° mama really comes out. I want my kids to be kids others want to be around. I want them to be smart, capable, friendly, kind. They usually are, but when they are clingy, whiny, yelly, and sassy (the 4 dwarves that didn't make the cut!), I feel at a loss. How many times can you say, "Quiet voice in the house, please" before you either give up or get out the duct tape?
Friday, January 25, 2013
A is for Authentic
One thought I had was "blogging by the alphabet". Each day, I'd pick a word that started with the letter of the day and go from there. I figured this might keep my brain a little sharper and my posts more interesting than "waking up to pee on the floor sucks, as does kindergarten drama." So I'm going to give it a shot. I might not make it every day, but we'll see what happens.
A is for Authentic
The way the word "authentic" is used today is grating. The NY Times had a great piece on it a year or so ago. It's gone from meaning "real" or "original" to meaning "styled for public approval". It smacks of "I make my own ketchup out of organic tomatoes that I grow next to my organic potatoes from which I make baked french fries. Woe unto you who feed their children Happy Meals for they will be stunted by your lack of authentic cuisine."
I thought I'd go more than one post before I outed myself as a "bad Mom". Guess not.
Yes, my kids eat McDonald's on a regular basis. Turn your nose up at me if you want, but sometimes it just fits the "quick and they'll eat it" bill. Other times, it's a chance to get out of the house or a place for #4 and me to get some lunch and play (her on the climbing stuff and slides and me on free Wi-Fi) between story time and picking up #1-3 on early out days. Do I sound a little defensive? Maybe, even though I don't think, for the most part, I should be. However, admitting that you *gasp* like McDonald's to certain people will get you the same look as if you just admitted to having herpes. The "Oh, dear, look where your poor choices have gotten you."
But I don't think being authentic should bind you to being an arse about things. There's so much grey area in life. There's a time for 5 star dining and also for Happy Meals.
A is for Authentic
The way the word "authentic" is used today is grating. The NY Times had a great piece on it a year or so ago. It's gone from meaning "real" or "original" to meaning "styled for public approval". It smacks of "I make my own ketchup out of organic tomatoes that I grow next to my organic potatoes from which I make baked french fries. Woe unto you who feed their children Happy Meals for they will be stunted by your lack of authentic cuisine."
I thought I'd go more than one post before I outed myself as a "bad Mom". Guess not.
Yes, my kids eat McDonald's on a regular basis. Turn your nose up at me if you want, but sometimes it just fits the "quick and they'll eat it" bill. Other times, it's a chance to get out of the house or a place for #4 and me to get some lunch and play (her on the climbing stuff and slides and me on free Wi-Fi) between story time and picking up #1-3 on early out days. Do I sound a little defensive? Maybe, even though I don't think, for the most part, I should be. However, admitting that you *gasp* like McDonald's to certain people will get you the same look as if you just admitted to having herpes. The "Oh, dear, look where your poor choices have gotten you."
But I don't think being authentic should bind you to being an arse about things. There's so much grey area in life. There's a time for 5 star dining and also for Happy Meals.
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