*What a difference a few days makes!
Tuesday, July 28, 2009
sick princess
As if a 17 hour drive isn't bad enough, getting sick in the first 5 hours makes it REALLY long.
I didn't even hear Pea get sick. I heard a cough, and Boo shouted "She threw up. Its all in her blankie! Ewww".
Yes, the girl caught all of it in her beloved blankie. Getting sick is traumatic enough, but to mess her blankie? Oh my.
Houston, we have a problem.
Both kids slept a lot, and were bouncy when we got out. However, Pea spiked a fever as we got closer to Chicago. She was up a lot more than usual last night. She was peeing constantly. (Not a big deal for most 3yr olds, but this is the same girl who was holding it last month because, get this, she didn't want to pee. Don't even get me started on THOSE conversations....)
Last night, she pointed to her left side, and said "my back hurwts." She then pointed to her belly button, and said "hewe, too". Warning bells went off in my head.
She woke up this morning hot enough to cook eggs on her forehead. I called the pediatrician, and then , bad mommy that I am, left her with her favorite babysitter so I could finally get my crowns seated. (I'd already cancelled the last two appointments, and I was fearing that I needed a root canal on top of it all.)
That painful task out of the way, and my face half numb, I drove Pea to her doctor. 15 minutes later we were headed to the emergency room; the good doc feared a kidney infection, and as Miz Stubborn won't pee in a potty, let alone a cup, and she spiked a fever as the doc was examining her, she needed immediate attention.
Now, through mommy blogs and Twitter, I have followed a number of absolutely heartbreaking tales of kids who are ill. Truly ill. And I've had so much respect for how their parents are handling the ordeal.
Today took it to a whole new level.
As I watched the nurses dig for a vein in my poor dehydrated girlie (she wouldn't drink, either), blow a vein and then opt to try the back of her hand, I had to dig deep for composure as my babydoll cried (no tears, she was dry.) Then, they had to use a catheter to get the smallest urine sample I've ever seen. She screamed, she cried. She begged to go home. I felt two foot tall for subjecting her to all of it. Never mind that she needed it. Never mind that if she had simply peed in the damn cup, we wouldn't have to subject her to any of it. (Did I say she is a stubborn cuss?)
It was a long, scary, terrifying day. Fortunately, after 6 hours, we were allowed to leave, with a prescription in hand that cost the same (with insurance) as my last pair of Ugg boots. Oh, and a Beanie Baby fish, coloring book, princess crayons, and stickers. She made out like a bandit for all her suffering!
Since she spiked another fever right before bedtime, and still looked listless and pale under her beach tan, (and as I'm a moron, and left her bedrail in a hotel in Batesville, Indiana), I don't think I'll get much sleep tonight.
So while I'm rocking her or rubbing her back, I'll be thinking of Stellan and MckMama tonight, praying for them both, and counting each and every one of MY blessings.
I didn't even hear Pea get sick. I heard a cough, and Boo shouted "She threw up. Its all in her blankie! Ewww".
Yes, the girl caught all of it in her beloved blankie. Getting sick is traumatic enough, but to mess her blankie? Oh my.
Houston, we have a problem.
Both kids slept a lot, and were bouncy when we got out. However, Pea spiked a fever as we got closer to Chicago. She was up a lot more than usual last night. She was peeing constantly. (Not a big deal for most 3yr olds, but this is the same girl who was holding it last month because, get this, she didn't want to pee. Don't even get me started on THOSE conversations....)
Last night, she pointed to her left side, and said "my back hurwts." She then pointed to her belly button, and said "hewe, too". Warning bells went off in my head.
She woke up this morning hot enough to cook eggs on her forehead. I called the pediatrician, and then , bad mommy that I am, left her with her favorite babysitter so I could finally get my crowns seated. (I'd already cancelled the last two appointments, and I was fearing that I needed a root canal on top of it all.)
That painful task out of the way, and my face half numb, I drove Pea to her doctor. 15 minutes later we were headed to the emergency room; the good doc feared a kidney infection, and as Miz Stubborn won't pee in a potty, let alone a cup, and she spiked a fever as the doc was examining her, she needed immediate attention.
Now, through mommy blogs and Twitter, I have followed a number of absolutely heartbreaking tales of kids who are ill. Truly ill. And I've had so much respect for how their parents are handling the ordeal.
Today took it to a whole new level.
As I watched the nurses dig for a vein in my poor dehydrated girlie (she wouldn't drink, either), blow a vein and then opt to try the back of her hand, I had to dig deep for composure as my babydoll cried (no tears, she was dry.) Then, they had to use a catheter to get the smallest urine sample I've ever seen. She screamed, she cried. She begged to go home. I felt two foot tall for subjecting her to all of it. Never mind that she needed it. Never mind that if she had simply peed in the damn cup, we wouldn't have to subject her to any of it. (Did I say she is a stubborn cuss?)
It was a long, scary, terrifying day. Fortunately, after 6 hours, we were allowed to leave, with a prescription in hand that cost the same (with insurance) as my last pair of Ugg boots. Oh, and a Beanie Baby fish, coloring book, princess crayons, and stickers. She made out like a bandit for all her suffering!
Since she spiked another fever right before bedtime, and still looked listless and pale under her beach tan, (and as I'm a moron, and left her bedrail in a hotel in Batesville, Indiana), I don't think I'll get much sleep tonight.
So while I'm rocking her or rubbing her back, I'll be thinking of Stellan and MckMama tonight, praying for them both, and counting each and every one of MY blessings.
Saturday, July 25, 2009
The Sand Man
Sometimes, it is the simple things in life that make a guy happy.
Like digging a hole in the sand...
Like digging a hole in the sand...
Note: it is a good idea to keep your three-year-old cousin nearby, so she can go get help when you get stuck INSIDE the hole you dug.
I'm now calling my nephew "The Sand Man". He can dig some deeeeeeep holes in the sand.
Beach Week
I've been a bad, bad blogger. I confess.
It was a tad pitiful....
But, really, I've been too busy stuffing my face with steamed spiced shrimp, key lime pie, she crab soup, margaritas and beer, and rinsing sand out of my personal spaces after swimming, jumping waves and dodging jellies for hours in the ocean.
I love it!
Let me tell you, it is mind-boggling how much sand is sitting at the front of the outdoor shower. For how small my 3 year old is, she can likely get a job dredging beaches after hurricanes using only her swim diaper! Its remarkable.
Pea, well, she just tickled her beach-loving parents. She tore headlong into the waves on the first day, and was sitting in the sand, digging holes and building sandcastles. For a neatnik, she did amazingly well with the amount of sand coating her body.
In fact, we wore her out so well on the first day, she fell asleep getting her hair braided, which I'm told is less than comfortable. Seriously - look at this:
Now THAT is tired....
The end result is adorable (and totally maintenance free for the week, woo hoo!)
Boo, on the other hand, had a harder time adjusting. I'm still not sure where the fear stemmed from - he loves the sandbox, and he loves to swim. However, true to form, by the 4th day, he ventured near the water, getting wet with help from Hubs.
It was a tad pitiful....
By the 5th day, he was running into the water.
And by the last day, he was getting up after being tumbled by the waves, grinning, and running back to the water.
Next year, I think we need to stay for TWO weeks - so that by the time Boo remembers how much HE loves the ocean, he has another week to enjoy it!
(And, the rest of us have more time to enjoy Carolina pulled pork, shrimp, tuna, scallops, and more key lime pie!)
Monday, July 20, 2009
Make Me Laugh Monday - Redneck Tank Top
I've been off the radar for JennyontheSpot's Make Me Laugh Monday, but when showing The Hubs the following (yet another hilarious email forwarded from my Dad) I knew I had to post it. Anything that makes his laugh until tears form as he snorts is worth sharing.... and he is a redneck in disguise.
-----------------------------------------------------------------------------
This was taken in front of the Gardendale, Alabama Wal-Mart, where the young lady was shopping at the Flea market.
Now I ask you...Who stands and looks at a pair of men's briefs and says "hummmm...I can make me a nice summer top from these!!"
On the other hand...$6 for a three pack is a good price!!
But.....what if they weren't bought new? That's redneck recycling at its best:
"Don't throw out yer feller's drawers when the skidmarks don't wash out no more. Just cut the crotch out and wear 'em. "
How very Green!
For more Monday giggles, check out JennyontheSpot's blog post. Ok, so its "adult humor".
Occasionally, I do qualify as an adult.
-----------------------------------------------------------------------------
This was taken in front of the Gardendale, Alabama Wal-Mart, where the young lady was shopping at the Flea market.
Look at it closely.
Now I ask you...Who stands and looks at a pair of men's briefs and says "hummmm...I can make me a nice summer top from these!!"
On the other hand...$6 for a three pack is a good price!!
But.....what if they weren't bought new? That's redneck recycling at its best:
"Don't throw out yer feller's drawers when the skidmarks don't wash out no more. Just cut the crotch out and wear 'em. "
How very Green!
For more Monday giggles, check out JennyontheSpot's blog post. Ok, so its "adult humor".
Occasionally, I do qualify as an adult.
8 things I'm looking forward to in Wales
To offset any perceived negativity found in the last post (it really was not intended as a criticism of our new home country - its just a reflection here) I thought I would start out with the top 8 things I'm looking forward to once we get to Wales:
1. The kids new school. Boo would only have been able to go to 1/2 day Kindergarden here in the States. In Hay, Boo will be able to go full day. He will also get swimming instruction once a week, from mid-spring until sometime in October. Pea would have been in a 3 day program here - in Hay, she will go every day for a few hours, longer if we choose. It will provide an opportunity for the kids to make friends more quickly. For Boo, eating lunch every day at school will provide a great introduction to the local cuisine - and I'm guessing that he'll be much more open to the foods if his friends are eating them, as opposed to if I'm trying to introduce the foods to him. Likewise, Pea is refusing to potty train; her preschool teacher said "No worries, we'll take care of it - and peer pressure is a wonderful thing!" (We'll just thoughtfully overlook all the free time I will gain!)
2. My new "new" gym. Keeping up on the internet I've learned that "Gym and Tonic" will have a new home in Hay - bright, bigger, and home to more fitness classes. I'm looking forward to the new facility as well as an opportunity to meet some people on my own!
3. The walk to school . According to Hubs, its simply magical. I'm hoping we actually get to walk it - Little Miss Lazybones is, well, lazy, and I'm not planning on carrying her to school.
4. Driving a small car. Lets face it, while minivans are great, they are big and awkward. I like sitting high here in the land of the SUV, but since small cars are the norm there, I can get back into something compact and fun to drive. (Like my old Jetta - boy, I miss that car...)
5. Travel. We've had great fun looking at maps and at places to go on the internet. I have a cousin in Spain (whom I haven't seen in years!) and the Hubs has a cousin somewhere in England, who I think is only an hour away. There will be lots of opportunity to sightsee and travel.
6. Simplicity. No Target? Well, it will be a break on my wallet. Small fridge/freezer? No overbuying and seeing food go bad.
7. Less sugar/more organic. The bread that we ate (and ate and ate) while there was amazing. Reading labels, there isn't much (if any) high fructose corn syrup in the food products. There is a lot more offerings in organics, which is great. While the diet coke and Snickers bar I had definitely didn't taste the same, in hindsight they seemed less sweet, with more actual flavor coming through.
8. More family time. The Hubs will definitely be travelling less in his new role - he also shaved his commute from one hour to about 10 minutes. While I will now have to cook dinner every night, we will also now be able to actually eat together every night. Fantastic.
1. The kids new school. Boo would only have been able to go to 1/2 day Kindergarden here in the States. In Hay, Boo will be able to go full day. He will also get swimming instruction once a week, from mid-spring until sometime in October. Pea would have been in a 3 day program here - in Hay, she will go every day for a few hours, longer if we choose. It will provide an opportunity for the kids to make friends more quickly. For Boo, eating lunch every day at school will provide a great introduction to the local cuisine - and I'm guessing that he'll be much more open to the foods if his friends are eating them, as opposed to if I'm trying to introduce the foods to him. Likewise, Pea is refusing to potty train; her preschool teacher said "No worries, we'll take care of it - and peer pressure is a wonderful thing!" (We'll just thoughtfully overlook all the free time I will gain!)
2. My new "new" gym. Keeping up on the internet I've learned that "Gym and Tonic" will have a new home in Hay - bright, bigger, and home to more fitness classes. I'm looking forward to the new facility as well as an opportunity to meet some people on my own!
3. The walk to school . According to Hubs, its simply magical. I'm hoping we actually get to walk it - Little Miss Lazybones is, well, lazy, and I'm not planning on carrying her to school.
4. Driving a small car. Lets face it, while minivans are great, they are big and awkward. I like sitting high here in the land of the SUV, but since small cars are the norm there, I can get back into something compact and fun to drive. (Like my old Jetta - boy, I miss that car...)
5. Travel. We've had great fun looking at maps and at places to go on the internet. I have a cousin in Spain (whom I haven't seen in years!) and the Hubs has a cousin somewhere in England, who I think is only an hour away. There will be lots of opportunity to sightsee and travel.
6. Simplicity. No Target? Well, it will be a break on my wallet. Small fridge/freezer? No overbuying and seeing food go bad.
7. Less sugar/more organic. The bread that we ate (and ate and ate) while there was amazing. Reading labels, there isn't much (if any) high fructose corn syrup in the food products. There is a lot more offerings in organics, which is great. While the diet coke and Snickers bar I had definitely didn't taste the same, in hindsight they seemed less sweet, with more actual flavor coming through.
8. More family time. The Hubs will definitely be travelling less in his new role - he also shaved his commute from one hour to about 10 minutes. While I will now have to cook dinner every night, we will also now be able to actually eat together every night. Fantastic.
Thursday, July 16, 2009
Road Trip!
In what some have claimed is insanity, I packed up our suitcases, a collection of DVDs, snacks, blankies, Ox, and the kids, and drove from Chicago to Virginia.
On my own.
Day one wasn't too terribly bad: the kids snacked so much that they opted to skip lunch. Boo peed roadside twice (he discovered the joys of peeing outside) - honestly, I think he waited until exactly 5 minutes after Pea zonked out in her carseat to announce his nature call, knowing that I wouldn't want to wake her up...
We left at 5:15, armed with Dunkin Donuts munchkins and the GPS, and headed out. On the Tri-State, I drove through what I later learned was a diesel spill; I knew it wasn't water 15 seconds after driving into it, as the fumes filled the car. They lingered until Indiana, at which time the smell was replaced with the odor of cow manure. Fun.
So....after Bee Movie, two Barbie movies, Cars, and Madagascar, we arrived in Charleston, West Virginia. I took the kids directly to the pool so that they could burn off excess energy. Following that, we wandered across the street to the local Mall for a really (ahem) healthy dinner at the food court.
My apologies to the fine people of West Virginia, but this place was Hillbilly Hell. The girl/boy in front of me wore a rolled up blue tank top, braids, and a trucker cap on his/her head. Below the tank top peeked plaid boxer shorts, and riding loooow on his/her hips was a pair of baggy homeboy jeans, held up by a belt. In the small of his/her back was a badly drawn tattoo of a hand "flipping the bird" (badly drawn because the middle finger actually looked like a thumb - quite a trick!) and illustrated with "F*ck You". Charming. His/her mother must be proud (unless she took him/her to get it...) Oh, to perfectly accessorize this outfit, this person was holding a milk jug about 1/3 full of red punch.
As he/she was leaving, she finally turned fully around, and I realized there were small breasts under the tank top, but honestly, if it wasn't for the "girls" on display, I would have thought she was a boy. A very, very homely boy.
I so wanted to take a picture of the tattoo with my iPhone, but I was honestly afraid.
So after a very interesting dinner, a few dollars worth of quarters fed into some ride on toys, we headed back to the hotel, changed into pjs and climbed into our beds. Of course, Boo claimed to not be tired, so we set ourselves up for a Hannah Montana mini marathon until we fell asleep.
The next morning, after ensuring that the Hubs may never get concierge level service again (my kids are very grumpy eaters in the morning), we loaded up the car. Today, not such a peaceful ride. Boo was not happy about the length of the trip, and 15 minutes into the drive began the "how much further". The incessant questionning lasted all 6 painful hours of the drive...several more Barbie, Cars and Thomas the Tank Engine movies later, we arrived at our destination.
Never have I been happier to get out of a car! It took several days for the kids to burn off all their stored up activity. I'm sure there are many people along Route 64 wondering who the mad woman yelling out the open window was, but we survived.
Now the return trip home from North Carolina?
Oh, lets not even talk about that yet...
On my own.
Day one wasn't too terribly bad: the kids snacked so much that they opted to skip lunch. Boo peed roadside twice (he discovered the joys of peeing outside) - honestly, I think he waited until exactly 5 minutes after Pea zonked out in her carseat to announce his nature call, knowing that I wouldn't want to wake her up...
We left at 5:15, armed with Dunkin Donuts munchkins and the GPS, and headed out. On the Tri-State, I drove through what I later learned was a diesel spill; I knew it wasn't water 15 seconds after driving into it, as the fumes filled the car. They lingered until Indiana, at which time the smell was replaced with the odor of cow manure. Fun.
So....after Bee Movie, two Barbie movies, Cars, and Madagascar, we arrived in Charleston, West Virginia. I took the kids directly to the pool so that they could burn off excess energy. Following that, we wandered across the street to the local Mall for a really (ahem) healthy dinner at the food court.
My apologies to the fine people of West Virginia, but this place was Hillbilly Hell. The girl/boy in front of me wore a rolled up blue tank top, braids, and a trucker cap on his/her head. Below the tank top peeked plaid boxer shorts, and riding loooow on his/her hips was a pair of baggy homeboy jeans, held up by a belt. In the small of his/her back was a badly drawn tattoo of a hand "flipping the bird" (badly drawn because the middle finger actually looked like a thumb - quite a trick!) and illustrated with "F*ck You". Charming. His/her mother must be proud (unless she took him/her to get it...) Oh, to perfectly accessorize this outfit, this person was holding a milk jug about 1/3 full of red punch.
As he/she was leaving, she finally turned fully around, and I realized there were small breasts under the tank top, but honestly, if it wasn't for the "girls" on display, I would have thought she was a boy. A very, very homely boy.
I so wanted to take a picture of the tattoo with my iPhone, but I was honestly afraid.
So after a very interesting dinner, a few dollars worth of quarters fed into some ride on toys, we headed back to the hotel, changed into pjs and climbed into our beds. Of course, Boo claimed to not be tired, so we set ourselves up for a Hannah Montana mini marathon until we fell asleep.
The next morning, after ensuring that the Hubs may never get concierge level service again (my kids are very grumpy eaters in the morning), we loaded up the car. Today, not such a peaceful ride. Boo was not happy about the length of the trip, and 15 minutes into the drive began the "how much further". The incessant questionning lasted all 6 painful hours of the drive...several more Barbie, Cars and Thomas the Tank Engine movies later, we arrived at our destination.
Never have I been happier to get out of a car! It took several days for the kids to burn off all their stored up activity. I'm sure there are many people along Route 64 wondering who the mad woman yelling out the open window was, but we survived.
Now the return trip home from North Carolina?
Oh, lets not even talk about that yet...
Wednesday, July 08, 2009
The Top 11 things I'll miss about living here...
As I was sitting at the parade on Saturday, it struck me how much I'd miss it. I know I'll desperately miss my family and friends here - that is a given - but I started to compile a list of all the other "stuff" I'll miss.
So for your entertainment (and because this is my blog), here is my top 11 (because I love the movie Spinal Tap, and 11 is more), in no particular order:
So for your entertainment (and because this is my blog), here is my top 11 (because I love the movie Spinal Tap, and 11 is more), in no particular order:
- Hostess Ho-Hos. (think PMS. 'nuff said)
- Oregon Pinot Noirs. Yum.
- American radio stations - I want country, I tune into US-99. I want classic rock, I switch to 98.3 WXRT. Not a hodge podge of all music types, smushed together.
- Chicago Style Hot Dogs and onion rings from the Dog Tracks. Yum.
- My finess center - Pilates, Yoga, Spinning, FitLinxx so my lazy bum doesn't have to even count reps on the great equipment, treadmills and stairclimbers with individual TVs and CD players attached - I actually WANT to work out in this gym! Oh, and did I mention child-care?
- Mexican food. You guys across the pond can call it what you like, but from what I heard, it all tastes like curry over there.
- A variety of Ethnic food, for that matter: Thai, Korean, Spanish, Italian. Don't get me wrong - I love a good curry - but I LURVE Pad Thai, a good plate of tapas, and good italian food.
- Hot weather. Yes, I've grown up here, but I have no tolerance to the cold. I'll happily take 80 degrees any day, without complaint! Yes, even the humidity!
- Ravinia Festival. There is nothing like sitting on the lawn on a hot summer night with all your best buds, a glass of wine in one hand, listening to a favorite band. Even though lately we've been sitting in the Pavillion with the rest of the "old folk". 'Cause, you know, you can SEE the band from there.
- This is gonna sound weird, but my OB/Gyn. I've had the same one for 14 years, at least - no matter where I moved to, I didn't change docs. We have a history, we communicate well. I mock him, he tortures me. Having someone else dealing with my, er, private parts is simply gonna be uncomfortable - like I'm cheating on a boyfriend. Or, well, my husband.
- Being able to pick up the phone, most any time of the day, and talk to my Mom. That is going to be a killer.
Don't get me wrong - there is a lot I'm going to appreciate in Wales (more organic foods, less sugar in products, awesome bread - gosh, I love bread). A purported simplicity in life, since there are no Targets from which to buy products that clutter up my life. Younger looking skin due to all the moisture there (Hey Jackie, I'm taking your word on that one!) Getting to travel around the UK and Europe, hopefully. And I'm sure there are a lot more things that I'm not yet aware of. But that's a different post.
But in the meantime, I'm gonna pour me a glass of Pinot and sit back and watch a late-nite version of Oprah. On my cable TV. With the screened windows open.
Confessions of a Bad Mommy
"Hi! My name is Jenn and I am a Bad Mommy".
There, I've said it - so maybe now I can stop beating myself up and get on with it all. See, I know this move is hard on everyone: the kids are out of sorts, out of their element, and lacking quality sleep (they are sharing a room). They are also lacking one level-minded parent, as the Hubs is already across the pond.
And now, they are missing another level-minded parent, as my brain checked out on Monday.
I realize I am supposed to be patient with the kids as this is confusing and difficult and blah blah blah.
However, I am having a hard time justifying mad jumping on the beds, the sofas and each other as being related to the move. Just as I'm having a hard time accepting that Boo's mad desire to throw his foam ball AS HARD AS HE CAN against any non-moving object because he is confused and sad.
They know I'm stressed. Like a lion tracking his prey, they know when I'm weak. And they are trouncing all over me.
So, being the bad mommy I am, I respond in the only way my desperate, sad mind can - I yell at them.
I know this is not the most efficient way to discipline. Especially when you are trying to get your 5yo son to stop YELLING at you. But remember, now, my mind took a cruise to Tahiti someone on Monday, between the time that Pea peed on the floor (no, she is not potty training yet - she has just decided that she doesn't want to pee, AT ALL, so is holding it until her involuntary sphincter gives out. See Kristy, I still remember that conversation we had on the way to Michigan City, many, many moons ago...) and Boo screaming that he couldn't go to camp yet, Sid the Science Kid was still on. (And don't get me going about Sid, or the rest of his freaky friends).
So while I start out in my calm, mommy-in-control voice, lately it deteriorates quickly to something on the same level as an 8 year old - yes, I'm only slightly more mature than my kids. Then I take a deep breath, put back on my mommy underwear, take a calming breath, throw back a shot of Jack (just kidding!) and try to regain control.
Its really quite wearing, this parenting thing.
And its a damn good thing they are cute!
There, I've said it - so maybe now I can stop beating myself up and get on with it all. See, I know this move is hard on everyone: the kids are out of sorts, out of their element, and lacking quality sleep (they are sharing a room). They are also lacking one level-minded parent, as the Hubs is already across the pond.
And now, they are missing another level-minded parent, as my brain checked out on Monday.
I realize I am supposed to be patient with the kids as this is confusing and difficult and blah blah blah.
However, I am having a hard time justifying mad jumping on the beds, the sofas and each other as being related to the move. Just as I'm having a hard time accepting that Boo's mad desire to throw his foam ball AS HARD AS HE CAN against any non-moving object because he is confused and sad.
They know I'm stressed. Like a lion tracking his prey, they know when I'm weak. And they are trouncing all over me.
So, being the bad mommy I am, I respond in the only way my desperate, sad mind can - I yell at them.
I know this is not the most efficient way to discipline. Especially when you are trying to get your 5yo son to stop YELLING at you. But remember, now, my mind took a cruise to Tahiti someone on Monday, between the time that Pea peed on the floor (no, she is not potty training yet - she has just decided that she doesn't want to pee, AT ALL, so is holding it until her involuntary sphincter gives out. See Kristy, I still remember that conversation we had on the way to Michigan City, many, many moons ago...) and Boo screaming that he couldn't go to camp yet, Sid the Science Kid was still on. (And don't get me going about Sid, or the rest of his freaky friends).
So while I start out in my calm, mommy-in-control voice, lately it deteriorates quickly to something on the same level as an 8 year old - yes, I'm only slightly more mature than my kids. Then I take a deep breath, put back on my mommy underwear, take a calming breath, throw back a shot of Jack (just kidding!) and try to regain control.
Its really quite wearing, this parenting thing.
And its a damn good thing they are cute!
The Side Effects of Moving Overseas
During the whole course of this moving...project...we've all been saying how hard it will be on Boo, and how it shouldn't affect Pea, as "she doesn't much know what's going on". Of course, this was all directed at making the transition to a new school and whatnot in Hay.
What we had all forgotten about, apparently, was how she would take to the uproar here, before the actual crossing over to Wales.
The answer to that question?
Poorly, at best.
Little bugger, she keeps asking to go home, to the green house. While she wasn't there while the movers were loading up the truck (we were advised against this by people who have made the move), I did take her through the house more than once so that she knew we weren't living there for a while - its still our house, but some nice people are going to live in it and take care of it while she is gone.
Still not quite getting processed. Poor little Pea - she is so out of sorts with this entire thing. However, given the option of temporary housing here and temporary housing there, well, here made more sense. We can get out of the house and find things to do here (thanks, Wendy!) to keep from killing each other. There, it would have been more of a challenge.
One I'd prefer to make on a full night's sleep, in my own bed, thankyouverymuch.
So, when you start to ask me if I'm excited about the move, please stop. Right now, I'm barely holding us all together to even think about being excited about next month.
I'll be excited about the move once we've moved into Barfield House, everything is unpacked, neat and tidy, and the entire family has adjusted to the difference in time zones.
Until then?
(Right foot...left foot....right foot......breathe)
I'm just taking it one day at a time. If you are looking for me, I'm the one with the overtired, whiny three year old with her head snuggled into my shoulder, desperate for a nap, asking to go home.
What we had all forgotten about, apparently, was how she would take to the uproar here, before the actual crossing over to Wales.
The answer to that question?
Poorly, at best.
Little bugger, she keeps asking to go home, to the green house. While she wasn't there while the movers were loading up the truck (we were advised against this by people who have made the move), I did take her through the house more than once so that she knew we weren't living there for a while - its still our house, but some nice people are going to live in it and take care of it while she is gone.
Still not quite getting processed. Poor little Pea - she is so out of sorts with this entire thing. However, given the option of temporary housing here and temporary housing there, well, here made more sense. We can get out of the house and find things to do here (thanks, Wendy!) to keep from killing each other. There, it would have been more of a challenge.
One I'd prefer to make on a full night's sleep, in my own bed, thankyouverymuch.
So, when you start to ask me if I'm excited about the move, please stop. Right now, I'm barely holding us all together to even think about being excited about next month.
I'll be excited about the move once we've moved into Barfield House, everything is unpacked, neat and tidy, and the entire family has adjusted to the difference in time zones.
Until then?
(Right foot...left foot....right foot......breathe)
I'm just taking it one day at a time. If you are looking for me, I'm the one with the overtired, whiny three year old with her head snuggled into my shoulder, desperate for a nap, asking to go home.
Saturday, July 04, 2009
Traditions (or, "I love a parade")
The Fourth of July festivities in our little town have always been fun, and this year were enjoyed with a dose of sentimentality.
At the "Brat Tent" there is typically a full schedule of fun activities for the little ones - a special lunch, craft areas, a trackless train, bounce houses and slides, and a magician. But the height of the weekend for our little in-bed-by-dark children is the July 4th parade.
Yes, there is enough candy thrown to strike fear (or joy at the prospects of all those future patients) in the hearts of the local dentists. Sure, there are big kids diving like they are headed into home plate, trying to get at that candy. But everything else is pure Main Street, USA - floats, marching bands, politicians shaking hands, and a lot of Abraham Lincolns - which, to be honest, seems a bit off the time-line, but there were enough of them this year that we think it was a theme they forgot to communicate to the crowds.
This year also saw the return of the Marching Mitres, the, er, makeshift drill squad our church puts together solely for the 4th of July parade. They march in formation, doing complicated, um, formation-move-thingies. I'd worry I was insulting their performance, but honestly, there is no rehearsal. (I think the call for marchers said "even a monkey could do it". No offense to any monkeys out there.) Wearing a paper bishop's mitre and carrying homemade staffs, some of my favorite fellow St. Michaelans proudly marched chanting "Jesus loves me this I know. For the Bible tells me so. One two...(one two)..three four (three four)" in the same cadence as a troop at boot camp.
Elmo was riding in a convertable with Santa, and because Quaker is here in town, Chester Cheetah, Cap'n Crunch and the Quaker Oats guy were all present too. (At which point, Boo asked of Cap'n Crunch "who's that?" and I was lambasted by my neighbor, Paul - a Quaker employee - for depriving my kids of some of childhood's best cereals. He scoffed at the General Mills' brands they eat. Pahh.)
The area library, on the other hand, didn't do much to dispel the notion that librarians are a pretty staid lot. I'd never seen a group of people marching in a parade less happy to be there, and it was obvious why some people throw candy - its simply to dispel boredom!
In the end, whatever the reason, my kids find true delight in the parade. We walked home together, content, happy - a good memory of this town we love so much.
At the "Brat Tent" there is typically a full schedule of fun activities for the little ones - a special lunch, craft areas, a trackless train, bounce houses and slides, and a magician. But the height of the weekend for our little in-bed-by-dark children is the July 4th parade.
Yes, there is enough candy thrown to strike fear (or joy at the prospects of all those future patients) in the hearts of the local dentists. Sure, there are big kids diving like they are headed into home plate, trying to get at that candy. But everything else is pure Main Street, USA - floats, marching bands, politicians shaking hands, and a lot of Abraham Lincolns - which, to be honest, seems a bit off the time-line, but there were enough of them this year that we think it was a theme they forgot to communicate to the crowds.
This year also saw the return of the Marching Mitres, the, er, makeshift drill squad our church puts together solely for the 4th of July parade. They march in formation, doing complicated, um, formation-move-thingies. I'd worry I was insulting their performance, but honestly, there is no rehearsal. (I think the call for marchers said "even a monkey could do it". No offense to any monkeys out there.) Wearing a paper bishop's mitre and carrying homemade staffs, some of my favorite fellow St. Michaelans proudly marched chanting "Jesus loves me this I know. For the Bible tells me so. One two...(one two)..three four (three four)" in the same cadence as a troop at boot camp.
Elmo was riding in a convertable with Santa, and because Quaker is here in town, Chester Cheetah, Cap'n Crunch and the Quaker Oats guy were all present too. (At which point, Boo asked of Cap'n Crunch "who's that?" and I was lambasted by my neighbor, Paul - a Quaker employee - for depriving my kids of some of childhood's best cereals. He scoffed at the General Mills' brands they eat. Pahh.)
The area library, on the other hand, didn't do much to dispel the notion that librarians are a pretty staid lot. I'd never seen a group of people marching in a parade less happy to be there, and it was obvious why some people throw candy - its simply to dispel boredom!
In the end, whatever the reason, my kids find true delight in the parade. We walked home together, content, happy - a good memory of this town we love so much.
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