Moving to Australia...

...you know, like Alexander?

When last we met, I was embarking on a great biking adventure.  It was going to be amazing!  It also lasted, like, two weeks and ended with a whimper (rather than a bang) due to long-lasting illness, unbearable heat (related), and about six or so gigantic life decisions cast upon my shoulders.  Driving around in a car is much more conducive to long-lasting illness, unbearable heat, and gigantic life decisions rather than is trying to figure out the logistics of transporting via bicycle.  Yes, these are excuses.  And yes, if you bet on the fact that I was starting something I would never finish (yet again), you would be correct.

So, four months, a little bit of healing, and three-sixths of the gigantic life decisions later, here we are...

It's been one of those days.  You know, one of those parenting days that leaves you beaten up and broken down at the end of the day just begging God for mercy in the form of a peaceful bedtime.

Look, I even attach a photo of myself-at-this-very-moment, to show that I make no hyperbole when I use the phrases beaten up and broken down.  In the past 45 minutes alone, my little lovely has yanked out my hairdo and given me what is sure to soon be a black eye while trying to change her diaper.

That was today.  Heck, that was only the last hour of this day.

If I was still on Facebook at the moment, I would be staring at the screen and scrolling through all of y'alls status updates.  Possibly commenting, but probably too lazy for even that.  Most likely just clicking "Like" a lot.  But alas, I have been off Facebook and shall remain for the foreseeable indeterminate amount of time.

So what is left is just me talking to myself on my blog, which is better in a way because I can release my own thoughts without being distracted by everyone else's at the same time.  Somehow, that method just doesn't allow for the processing of a complete thought and my brain just needs a break from that sometimes.

ANYhoo...I was all about going to recount why this was such a terrible, horrible, no-good, very bad day.  But at this point I am over the details.  Who needs to rehash it?

Suffice it to say: 1) I now have two preteen girls with attitudes to match the age, 2) and a two-year-old--'nuff said, 3) I have been single-parenting for the past 2-1/2 weeks and still have 2-1/2 weeks of this to go, 4) the pets are driving me nuts, 5) I swear the toddler is beating me up on purpose (though it always looks accidental), and finally 6) WHY WON'T THEY JUST GO TO BED???!!! and LISTEN! and DO THEIR CHORES! and STOP WHINING! and GET ALONG! and SHUT THE FREAKING DOOR WHEN THEY GO OUTSIDE!?

Aaaaand, that should do it.  There, I feel much better now :-)  Many thanks for sharing in my vent-of-the-day.

There's a SIM Card in That Thar Crockpot!

Or: What the Heck Do You Do All Day?

The other day I was thinking of grabbing a notebook and reporting everything that went on in my day.  For no reason except for my own pondering.  Somehow that turned into a goal to record it all in a blog post when I heard someone mention something about "lazy SAHMs".  That's stay-at-home-moms.  Though, personally, I much prefer Household Manager and Domestic Entrepreneur.  And yes, that would be said tongue-in-cheek.

So I recorded nearly every moment of my day, but not the complete saga.  I mean, I think I forgot to say that we ate breakfast, or that I tweezed my eyebrows, or searched for missing paperwork, etc.  And I may or may not have popped back on the computer a few more times that what I've listed.  Whatever.  The following is extremely boring, but it could be worse.  You could have had a play-by-play of me shaving my legs.

****************

6:30 a.m. :  Wake up and see that the kids are already watching cartoons on Netflix while their dad makes himself breakfast.  Great.  Why do we not own a TV again? 

6:45 a.m. :  Go for run.  Fall twice before I get smart and trade off between running on the street and the boulevards.  Decide I REALLY don't like the Week 2.1 c25k download here.  Too many drug and violence references for my delicate sensibilities.  A little bit is okay.  But this is over my personal limit.  Disappointed because I really liked the Week 1.2 playlist.  Possibly will have to find another one.

7:15 a.m. :  Come home, shower, quick computer break.  Emme comes out and tells me she has changed Juliet's (cloth) diaper all by herself.  She is very proud.  I am very proud. 

7:20 a.m. :  A few minutes later JJ crawls over to me, I pick her up, notice that her butt is decidedly UN-fluffy for a cloth-diapered girl.  And that would be because her sister did change her diaper, yes.  However.  She forgot to put an actual diaper inside the new diaper cover.  Thankfully, a disaster of epic proportions was averted by my quick prefold-stuffing skills.  Skills.  Yeah, I've got 'em.  I'm cool like that.

7:45 a.m. :  That was exhausting.  So I take another quick computer break.  An online forum is discussing Feminism (hello NFP friends!) and before I know it my research spark is lit and I spend a little too much time digging into the subject.  Whoops.  Mental note to curb computer time for the rest of the day.

9:00 a.m.:  I make my bed, tidy the bathroom, get the kids ready and going on their chores, do my hair and in the process of all that, I notice that even my eyebrow hairs are turning white.  Wonderful!

10:15 a.m.:  Get the brilliant idea to precook a bunch of chicken breasts and ground turkey/beef and prechop a bunch of onions.  Am having a difficult time staying on top of meals lately, so thinking that doing this and throwing the stuff in the freezer will be helpful to me at approximately 5 p.m. every day this week.  Wonder why I never thought of that before?  (Hm, could it be because I always get these 'brilliant ideas' but never follow through longer than a couple weeks?)  So I start preparing all this food while lunch is cooking.  Decide that I am hopeful that I can convince myself to do this more often.   Decide to expect that I won't.

11:00 a.m. :  Listen to Hannah unfurl to me her Great Book Club plan.  I agree that this is a great plan, and yesterday we went to the library to pick up her book club kit for The Lion, The Witch, and The Wardrobe.  Which she has read.  Multiple times.  And has been read to her.  Multiple times.  Why she picked that one is anyone's guess, but who am I to question her self-directed educational prowess?

11:30 a.m. :  We are all straightening up while dancing to some Kung Fu Fighting.  The dancing turns into actual Kung Fu fighting by everyone except me, so I shut off the music for the time being.

11:35 a.m. :  The library calls to tell me that we actually only have half the book club kit.  Sweet librarian emails me the discussion questions instead of having to go back and get them.  Which I wouldn't be able to do anyway because I had neglected to petition the use of our lone vehicle for the day. 

11:55 a.m. :  I realize that aforementioned book club is scheduled to meet at 2 p.m. today.  Except that I haven't spoken to any of the parents.  I decide to call and make sure they know that our daughters are planning to meet at our house today.  They knew.  It's all good.

12:00 p.m. :  Try to read a math book to Max that he has been begging me to read to him all morning.  I see that there is a page torn.  He tells me it's "Ju-ju's" fault.  I'm skeptical.  Read the math book to him anyway.  He is already correctly formulating mathematical sentences.  I will try to focus on this good thing a little while later.

12:15 p.m. :  Go down to do laundry.  Come upstairs and see that Max is clearing off the table all by himself.  Give him lots of love and praise.  Pat myself on the back for training such a helpful little three-year-old.  Will also try to focus on this good thing a little while later.

12:30 p.m. :  Check on my chicken in the crockpot.  See something blue floating in it.  Ew!  Dig out floating blue thing: an old (but still wanted) SIM card that had been lying on the table 20 minutes previous.  Now here is where I try to focus on those better sides of Max.  Except it doesn't work.  I yell.  A little.

12:55 p.m. :  I've been listening to the same playlist over and over today.  I put Juliet down for a nap while Train is playing.  She kicks in time to Hey Soul Sister while nursing.  Happy that I am finding her to be not only a fellow multitasker but also that she takes after me in the rhythm department (thank goodness!).  But I decide that we have heard this playlist a few too many times today.

1:05 p.m. :  Go down for another load of laundry.  Find Emme reading her cat books.  That kid has checked out every single book on cats/cat care/veterinarians/large cats/domestic cats/ASPCA guides/whathaveyou contained in our library.  Entertain a fleeting worry that I have no idea what we will do next week when there are literally no more cat books for her to read.  I guess she'll just start reading them all over again.

1:20 p.m. :  Trip up the stairs carrying clean laundry.  Realize that I have yet again neglected to vacuum the stairs.  I am always forgetting to do that.  Throw the laundry on my bed.  Try to tell myself I will get it put away before bed tonight, all the while realizing that laundry in the proper places is merely a pipe dream.

1:30 p.m. :  It is nearing time for the book club meeting and the kids are getting squirrely with excitement.  I think that I need to create a calming playlist for times like these.  I'll probably get to that eventually, but for the time being it is easier to let them watch a show while they wait.  To make myself feel better, I say that it has to be an educational documentary.

1:40 p.m. :  After ten minutes of listening to squabbling over Pets and Their Vets (Emme) vs. Secrets of King Tut (Hannah) vs. Go Diego Go! (we told him it was not an option, but he's persistent) I kick them all downstairs to their rooms.  Not literally.  Figuratively.

1:45 p.m. :  Found some old hoagie buns in the freezer from back when we ate nonwhole-grain breads.  Don't want to waste anything, so I chop it up into crouton sizes. 

2:04 p.m. :  It is book club time but no one is here yet.  I look around and see that the kitchen sink and one counter are piled with dishes, which looks kinda scuzzy.  But I also see that most things are picked up, the garbage is all out, and I have vacuumed and swept the floors, so I call it good and hope none of the guests notice.  Or if they do, hope they don't care.  Make the informed decision to hop on the computer for one more little break instead of doing the dishes.

2:15 p.m. :  Only Michelle came, and she doesn't care if my dishes are done.  Plus she knows that I'm not the dish-doer in the house, Conrad is.  Have a nice little chat while the older kids discuss their book club plans and the younger ones find creative ways to bug them.

3:45 p.m. :  Play Guess Who with Max.

4:00 p.m. :  Play checkers with Hannah.

4:30 p.m. :  Play Jenga with everyone.  This is quickly abandoned, in a way, for a Jenga block-and-domino train.  Man.  We worked so hard to get that all set up (it fell, many many times), only to have it complete the entire show within seconds.  Oh well.  Obviously we just need more dominoes!   The following video is sideways.  I can't get it to straighten!  Also, by this point in the day the floors are no longer swept nor vacuumed, but I swear I did it just three hours ago. 

The video is not working.  I'll have to try for it tomorrow :-(

5:30 p.m. :  In the intense game-playing mode I was in for so long, I forget about supper.  Quickly throw together a cranberry/balsamic salad.

5:45 p.m. :  We eat dinner.  Correction:  Conrad and I eat dinner.  The rest of them pick at everything and whine.  Juliet happily eats her baby food but demands three jars of the stuff.

6:30 p.m. :  I put JJ to bed and head off to run errands.  Leave the husband, who is watching a tiger documentary with the older three, with strict instructions on when to put the rest of them to bed.

6:45 p.m. :  ATM machine #1 is out of order.  

6:55 p.m. :  Drive to next ATM machine.  #2 is in working order, thank you very much.

7:00 p.m. :  Hy-Vee for staples we absolutely cannot live without for the next day.

7:25 p.m. :  Back to the library for the second time in two days to get research materials for hubby.  Drive all the way across town for this, only to (stupidly) remember that it is Friday and the library is closed.

7:45 p.m. :  Drive all the way back across town to Target to return a black slipcover I absolutely adored and wanted with all my heart but realized very quickly, post-purchase, could not actually afford.  Picked up a new memory card reader and printer ink in its stead.

8:30 p.m. :  Come home and Conrad is asleep on the couch.  The rest of them are watching Hello Kitty on Netflix.  It is past all of their bedtimes.  Grrr.

8:45 p.m. :  Am uber-exhausted.  Think about going to bed early, but get back on the computer.  See, this is becoming a problem I think.  I'm like a moth to a computer flame.  I let the kids fall asleep on living room floor.  Eh, it's Friday.

9:20 p.m. :  I remember this blog post and make an executive decision that it must, absolutely MUST, be posted today.  Because otherwise how would anyone know what I did today?  My readers wait with baited breath.

10:00 p.m. :  Realize that I forgot to put away groceries.  Quickly do just that, and feel relieved that they weren't left out too long.

10:15 p.m. :  But I find that the crockpotted chicken breasts (the ones cooked with the yummy SIM card) were left in the crockpot.  Which had been turned off.  Four hours previous.  Recall which road is paved with good intentions...  Then mutter to myself that I might as well just have let the SIM card cook with the rest of it.

10:57 p.m. :  I. AM. GOING. TO. BED.  Stieg Larsson is waiting for me, though I'll most likely fall asleep on him before finishing three pages.

Project 365: Day 17

"Mom, I'm SuperHuman Max!  So I can save Juliet and she don't fall down the stairs again."

Yes, the baby fell down the stairs because someone failed to close the door behind them.  Thank goodness she was okay, because she needed her strength in order to try to crawl out of her crib and fall out of it as well last night.  Needless to say, there is now an auto-shut baby gate being installed at the top of the stairs and the crib mattress is moved down to the lowest point, but I am also contemplating a crib tent.

But this little guy, he's also a big stinker.  We've reached the point where I'm fairly sure I won't have to call 911 again to retrieve him, but he's learned all about the "sassy three" stage recently.  My only consolation is that I've had four years since the last "sassy three" stage, but she was quite mild in sassiness compared to the other two.  My sassy nine-year-old and this sassy three-year-old both have slammed doors in anger this morning.  (Not allowed, consequences were given, lest you think they would be allowed to get away with this.)  Sigh.  At this rate my white streaks will rival Paula Deen's by next year.

At least he wants to be a SuperHuman to protect his sister.  That's a virtue, right?   It is very hard to get a good picture of him because he refuses to stand still.  This picture is proof to me that I need to learn how to use AI Servo, but it's just so confusing .  Mainly, I just need to take the time to do it, I guess.  Learning is the whole point of this, right? 

The Evil Overpopulator Strikes Again

I know it's been a long, long while since I've been visited by the blogging muse, but I'm going to go ahead and jump in today because I saw this and I want to applaud the sentiment. I don't really need to say a lot more because she says exactly what I think. I have heard that it is selfish to have more than three children, more than two children, more than one child, any children. For one thing, that makes me laugh--environmental impact aside--really? Selfish?! Somehow I doubt the people saying these things to me have ever tried to run a family and household full of children. Not trying to play the martyr here, but selfish is not the word that comes to mind.

In our family we try our best to be good stewards of the resources we are blessed with. In the interest of full disclosure, I fully admit that our carbon footprints aren't usually the number one aspect I take into consideration when making day-to-day decisions...usually it's the financial aspect. A blessing in disguise is that when you don't have a lot of financial resources, the environmental and financial aspects of decision making tend to intersect. I'm nearly positive that our one-vehicle, small house, strictly second-hand-shopping, gardening, ridiculously frugal "large" family of nearly six probably has a much smaller carbon footprint than your average American upper-middle-class family of four (population replacement level).

The best thing about being an environment-preserving parent of a "large" family, though, is that I can teach these things to my children. The way we live is something I try to pass on to them in order to have four future families being good stewards of the Earth.

Do I sound defensive? Maybe I am a bit, but I don't mean to be. It's not that I honestly don't care what other people do, because I do hope that others make good environmental decisions. But I say live and let live. While you'd never hear me chastising another for making a different choice, there are many who chastise overpopulation as the biggest drain on the world's resources, and that is what I'm trying to defend against.

Feed Me, Seymore!

So the other night we ordered a Jumbo pizza from Godfather's. And I mean, this pizza is so huge that our entire family of five could only eat half the pizza for supper that night (well, we did have potato wedges to go with it). No problem, right, I figured the outside-the-home worker could take a couple pieces to work for lunch the next day and the kids and I could have the rest for lunch at home.

Next day, 12:30 p.m., it is much later than we usually eat lunch because school had gone a bit long. The children were about to destroy each other out of hunger and I'm about to pass out from not eating in five hours. It would be so very simple to just throw the pizza in the microwave, plop a bag of baby carrots on the table, and immediately satiate myself and the beasts.

Except that when I ran upstairs and opened the refrigerator...THERE WAS NO PIZZA. So I called dear husband--surely this was a mistake, he would never take all the pizza to work leaving the rest of his family to waste away in the middle of the day, right? Well, his phone went straight to voicemail and I rapidly deduced that this was indeed what had happened. So I did what any self-respecting pregnant woman would do in this situation--I sent the following text message:

JERK!!!! You took all my pizza DAMMIT!!!!! (sad face emoticon followed by mad face emoticon followed by red-faced horned emoticon followed by six more sad emoticons followed by three green-faced puking emoticons)

Then I sat down and cried. Cried, for the loss of an easy lunch preparation. Cried, because of high-pitched shrieking and wailing of the hungry clamor of the beasts. Cried, for the health and safety of my dear husband..because who knew just what kind of damage I might inflict on him when he returned home that night.

So anyway, I figured that message would convey the gist of my feelings, and I expected a response full of remorse and shame. Except shortly thereafter I received this on my phone:

Ha ha! That was hilarious! I'm totally saving this one for posterity. (grinning face emoticon)

Later I found out a bunch of coworkers also thought this was hilarious. Why do people think a pregnant, hungry, raving lunatic is so funny, I ask you?

Did I mention I'm having food issues lately?

Attention Viewers:

I am not a phone talker. I do not know when this happened, but I'm pretty sure it was somewhere in between the 3 a.m. long phone calls in college and having three children. Specifically trying to entertain, feed, clothe, educate, mediate, and hide in the bathroom from three children.

Somewhere along the line there I contracted a horrible, terrible, no-good, very-bad disease called Phone Phobia. I blame it on the aforementioned children; however, I admittedly have no fine-tuned research basis for this assertion. I love my phone because I can text to my heart's content and because of its uber-organizational skills. I'm not so fond of that button up there (see picture, top) in the shape of a handset.

That's really all I have to say. Informative, isn't it? Oh, the reason this all comes to mind is because I finally made myself return one phone call this morning that I have been putting off for days. A presumably good phone call which will presumably actually lead me in positive financial gains...a phone call which presumably will further some random career aspirations...

...the interested party was not home and I got to leave a message. Phew!

Now I can put my terrible, horrible, no-good, very-bad Phone Phobia off until interested party calls back.

I'm pathetic, really.

Er...duh..um...

And one more word to describe this:

Wow...

Good for him that there's no such thing as negative publicity, right?

How The Pro-Life Cause Could Be Helped

Uh-oh, there she goes proselytizing again! Feel free to skip this one if you just can't stand it, or me. Although if you can't stand me...why are you even reading my blog?

Anyhoo. So we were watching this documentary the other day about the politicizing of abortion. And there was this scene where this lady was protesting outside a clinic, talking in a super high-pitched voice, pretending to speak for the unborn children of the women walking into the clinic. "Hi Mommy, I can't wait to meet you. Mommy, what are you doing? Mommy, why are you doing this to me? Mommy, please, I want to see your face. Mommy, NOOOO!"


Ugh. My stomach just about dropped to my knees. It was so horrendous I wanted to puke. I wanted to be there and ask that lady, "Just what good do you think that's going to do?" Does she think that by trying to sound like the baby it will change anything for that woman? I don't think so. In fact, I think that that scene is why people have such low opinions of some "pro-lifers". (see footnote 1) I wanted to yell at the screen for her to stop making us look like uneducated, intolerant fanatics! It honestly drives me crazy.

So here's my idea on how to help the pro-life cause. People seriously need to try to remain unemotional about the whole thing. I know it's hard, when you take in the enormity and the magnanimous reality of the whole thing. I know. It's hard for me to not get emotional about it as well. But I really think that we would all be better served to just stay with the basic scientific facts and go from there. You can't dispute facts, and remaining unemotional will definitely lead to more civil discussion.

If that's the desired end, anyway. For me, I don't think the issue is going anywhere until civil discourse ends up changing people's hearts and minds. On the other hand, if imparting guilt is the only desired effect, then by all means lets all go protest in high-pitched squeaky voices.

1 - When speaking of a group of people, I'll always put "pro-lifers" and "pro-choicers" in quotes. Because I don't think that a lot of "pro-lifers" are actually pro-ALL-life, they're actually just anti-abortion. And by the same token I think that using the phrase "pro-choicers" just masks pro-abortion with a prettier phrase. Semantics are everything, people.

Srsly? A Rant.

Disclaimer: Largish ticked-off venting ahead.

In case you missed Social Cues 101, let me be the one to tell you something. The only appropriate response to anyone's news of a new baby is CONGRATULATIONS. That's IT. I don't care if you personally find the news worth congratulating or not, it's just basic decency. Whether it is a first child, fourth child, eighteenth child, I DON'T CARE.

Here's a list of some absolutely inappropriate and rude responses to aforementioned news:

1. Staring in dumbfounded shock and walking away.

2. Shaking your head while frowning.

3. "Oh no! An oops?"

4. "Guess NFP really doesn't work, does it?"

5. "WHY????"

6. "How in the world are you going to do it?"

7. "Children are so expensive!"

8. "Did you plan this?"


Think these comments in your head, gossip about it all you want while out of earshot, I don't care. But please have some decency and don't act disappointed or horrified at the prospect. I know it is hard to understand, but some people find children not only blessings but an overall societal good--especially when brought into strong, stable, loving, and educated homes.


Just sign me,

Overpopulating the world, one diabolical fetus at a time!

***THIS IS NOT AN ANNOUNCEMENT OF ANY SORT. MERELY A RANT.***