It has happened. Shillelagh is officially a thief. A very cute, cunning and well, adorable thief. Technically she is a minor, an extremely minor minor, but she is still a thief!
It all started out like a normal grocery shopping trip. We went to our favorite local store where Fiona loves to hang around in the special play area and Shillelagh can ride in the car portion of the cart. I followed my list, the older kids fetched items and grabbed an occasional cookie for the babe in the car. We finished loading the cart to just about toppling over and I forcefully positioned my doublewide into the checkout line. While Athena unloaded, Huckleberry looked at the movies, I was double checking my list and coupons, and Shillelagh was playing. She was playing with...... the candy! Yes, the candy in the candy rack! It looked exactly like she was in the drive through at a candy store. Loading up precious amounts of Snickers and Hershey bars into the cart. I immediately stopped the grabbing of the noisy and handy candy. I even had Shillelagh help me put it all back in the right boxes. What a good girl.
I pushed the cart down to the end of the checkout and watched the cashier ringing up the goods, making sure prices were correct. Fortunately we had a skilled bagger! He even put all the same types of food into the same bags! As he piled all of our foodstuffs into a neat mound, I thanked both workers and proceeded to head out towards the play area to pick up Fiona. At that point I realized that our youngest was extremely quiet and not hanging out of the car as she likes to do. Being that I couldn't see her because of the mound of groceries, I asked Athena to check on her. Well, I knew by her expression that something had gone wrong. Very wrong. Her hand was covering her mouth and her eyes were wide in a look of horror.
"What is it?", I asked.
"Um....Mom? Shillelagh has a push pop!", she replied, smothering a laugh.
I went over to her and saw for myself, Shillelagh indeed had a push-pop. She had managed somehow to get her hands on the pop, unwrap the plastic (which I always seem to need scissors for), unscrew the top and push the pop out and stick it in her mouth. Her cheeks and hands were covered in sticky pop goo and she was so very quite and innocent looking. I had to smother my laugh.
I decided not to say anything and we went and picked up Fiona. But, Fiona had to ask, "Where did Shillelagh get that?".
"It's a long story," I replied, hoping to hold off telling her about the criminal mastermind that she knew as her little sister.
Friday, December 5, 2008
Wednesday, November 19, 2008
My dying mother
My mother is extremely sick and has been so for over a year now. It started right before we left for North Carolina and when we left we knew that it might be the last time we saw here. But luckily she has survived longer than the doctors anticipated and since we came back I visit on a weekly basis.
The funny thing is that I would like to go more, but there isn't much to talk about and she doesn't want me to do anything when I am there, although I do offer. Perhaps I should go and just watch the TV Food network with her. Watching television was one of the only things we did together. Okay I am wrong, we did do a lot of shopping. In the summer when I was home from school, I was lucky enough to go out with her on her weekly errands. My mother was (and still is)a thrifty shoppper. As a family of 7 on one income, she had to be. She would check all of the grocery stores in the area for their loss leader sales and stock up. She also stopped in weekly to Bradlees and Caldors and other medium box chain stores for good deals on things like clothing and housewares. I would usually tag along, annoying her in some way or another. Be it going to the bathroom at every store we stopped at or accidentally spraying myself in the eye with perfume. Sometimes I would even con her into buying me something. I think she would buy it just to shut me up from all my whining. I owe all my good shopping skills to her.
I can't take her shopping since she has so much trouble moving around at all. She hasn't left the house in months. While her body is now emaciated and hunched, and she looks to have aged 15 years, she still doesn't really talk much. I am sure that she is in tons of pain. She has pain medication patches on her body and she takes the occasional pill if she feels she needs to. She feels free to answer all questions about her condition, rather matter-of-factly. It is something she has come to accept. My father is with her and takes care of her every need which means helping her do everything from getting out of bed, to dressing, to eating, to going to the bathroom etc..He is such a good man and it is beautiful to see him joyfully and lovingly take care of her.
I miss her. I miss her bustling around the kitchen so eager to take care of everyone. I miss seeing her do her search a word puzzles with her reading glasses at the end of her nose while she sits in her rocking chair. I miss her wise crack corny jokes. I remember her telling me of a time when her and my father we first married. She loved jokes, so she slyly filled the insides of my fathers shoes with shaving cream. She said "You should have seen his face when he put them on!". And Jesse thinks that I am trouble? I miss her baking. She baked some delicious treat at least once a week for as long as I can remember. Cookies, bars, cakes, any good recipe she found in her magazines was tried. Now I am passing on the tradition to my kids. Just this week, Huckleberry, Fiona and I made huge cookies that we decorated with frosting and leftover Halloween candy. Thanks mom.
The funny thing is that I would like to go more, but there isn't much to talk about and she doesn't want me to do anything when I am there, although I do offer. Perhaps I should go and just watch the TV Food network with her. Watching television was one of the only things we did together. Okay I am wrong, we did do a lot of shopping. In the summer when I was home from school, I was lucky enough to go out with her on her weekly errands. My mother was (and still is)a thrifty shoppper. As a family of 7 on one income, she had to be. She would check all of the grocery stores in the area for their loss leader sales and stock up. She also stopped in weekly to Bradlees and Caldors and other medium box chain stores for good deals on things like clothing and housewares. I would usually tag along, annoying her in some way or another. Be it going to the bathroom at every store we stopped at or accidentally spraying myself in the eye with perfume. Sometimes I would even con her into buying me something. I think she would buy it just to shut me up from all my whining. I owe all my good shopping skills to her.
I can't take her shopping since she has so much trouble moving around at all. She hasn't left the house in months. While her body is now emaciated and hunched, and she looks to have aged 15 years, she still doesn't really talk much. I am sure that she is in tons of pain. She has pain medication patches on her body and she takes the occasional pill if she feels she needs to. She feels free to answer all questions about her condition, rather matter-of-factly. It is something she has come to accept. My father is with her and takes care of her every need which means helping her do everything from getting out of bed, to dressing, to eating, to going to the bathroom etc..He is such a good man and it is beautiful to see him joyfully and lovingly take care of her.
I miss her. I miss her bustling around the kitchen so eager to take care of everyone. I miss seeing her do her search a word puzzles with her reading glasses at the end of her nose while she sits in her rocking chair. I miss her wise crack corny jokes. I remember her telling me of a time when her and my father we first married. She loved jokes, so she slyly filled the insides of my fathers shoes with shaving cream. She said "You should have seen his face when he put them on!". And Jesse thinks that I am trouble? I miss her baking. She baked some delicious treat at least once a week for as long as I can remember. Cookies, bars, cakes, any good recipe she found in her magazines was tried. Now I am passing on the tradition to my kids. Just this week, Huckleberry, Fiona and I made huge cookies that we decorated with frosting and leftover Halloween candy. Thanks mom.
Tuesday, November 18, 2008
Little Bear
Let me just say that I love Maurice Sendak's Little Bear. The story books are simple and sweet. But the shows and movies are so very comforting. The cast of characters is wonderful, full of innocence, curiosity and respect. Sometimes it is just plain fun. Sometimes when we have had a bad day, I pop in one of the movies and we all snuggle down and smile while we watch. The stories and the music are so very comforting.
Wednesday, November 12, 2008
Myers- Briggs
We have had the "Do What You Are Book" by Paul Tieger and Barbara Barron-Teiger and have tried to use it as an oracle of sorts. Jesse and I have always had this family thing down. But making money has been a constant struggle.
As a sales executive, I meet people everyday that run small business and they have always had a talent or like of a specific trade or service. Such as the mechanic I met down the street that has been working on cars since he was 16, or the restaurant owner that practically grew up in a restaurant. The closest thing that Jesse or I have to something like this is the bakery. Jesse has worked there since he was 16 and most of the work was full time and managing. The thing is there is no where to go there. The bakery owner isn't interested in selling and managing some of the people isn't enough to satisfy Jesse.
Sales is an extremely hard job for me. I am such an emotional person that it is tough building up a thick skin to all of the rejection. But it has been good because when I first started selling, one rejection would push me over the edge into a crying depression. Now it only takes about 40 :) Also, I find the lack of relationship or trust, very unmotivating. Now, I am in a new industry and it will take time to build a trusting relationship with a business owner. But I am not making any sales so I don't know if I have the time. And third, I really miss working with a team of people. Working out of the house definitely has advantages. I can call customers in my pajamas, I can work when convenient to my schedule and I don't sit in traffic for hours. But I really miss hanging out with the others in the office, talking about our experiences and pumping each other up. One thing I really liked about my last job in sales support was learning about each account manager's sales ability and style, and working with them to find ways to help them reach their goals.
This leads me to my next discovery that I am an ISFJ according to the Myers-Briggs test.
ISFJs have two basic traits which help define their best career direction: 1) they are extremely interested and in-tune with how other people are feeling, and 2) they enjoy creating structure and order, and are extremely good at it. Ideally, the ISFJ will choose a career in which they can use their exceptional people-observation skills to determine what people want or need, and then use their excellent organizational abilities to create a structured plan or environment for achieving what people want. Their excellent sense of space and function combined with their awareness of aesthetic quality also gives them quite special abilities in the more practical artistic endeavors, such as interior decorating and clothes design.
The thing is, I was trying to change myself for this job, instead of using my abilities. I figured that since I wasn't making sales, my style was failing. And while that may be true, I really haven't explored what my style is. Reading about ISFJ has helped me clarify what it was exactly that I liked about the jobs I have had and what I don't like about the one I am in currently.
As a sales executive, I meet people everyday that run small business and they have always had a talent or like of a specific trade or service. Such as the mechanic I met down the street that has been working on cars since he was 16, or the restaurant owner that practically grew up in a restaurant. The closest thing that Jesse or I have to something like this is the bakery. Jesse has worked there since he was 16 and most of the work was full time and managing. The thing is there is no where to go there. The bakery owner isn't interested in selling and managing some of the people isn't enough to satisfy Jesse.
Sales is an extremely hard job for me. I am such an emotional person that it is tough building up a thick skin to all of the rejection. But it has been good because when I first started selling, one rejection would push me over the edge into a crying depression. Now it only takes about 40 :) Also, I find the lack of relationship or trust, very unmotivating. Now, I am in a new industry and it will take time to build a trusting relationship with a business owner. But I am not making any sales so I don't know if I have the time. And third, I really miss working with a team of people. Working out of the house definitely has advantages. I can call customers in my pajamas, I can work when convenient to my schedule and I don't sit in traffic for hours. But I really miss hanging out with the others in the office, talking about our experiences and pumping each other up. One thing I really liked about my last job in sales support was learning about each account manager's sales ability and style, and working with them to find ways to help them reach their goals.
This leads me to my next discovery that I am an ISFJ according to the Myers-Briggs test.
ISFJs have two basic traits which help define their best career direction: 1) they are extremely interested and in-tune with how other people are feeling, and 2) they enjoy creating structure and order, and are extremely good at it. Ideally, the ISFJ will choose a career in which they can use their exceptional people-observation skills to determine what people want or need, and then use their excellent organizational abilities to create a structured plan or environment for achieving what people want. Their excellent sense of space and function combined with their awareness of aesthetic quality also gives them quite special abilities in the more practical artistic endeavors, such as interior decorating and clothes design.
The thing is, I was trying to change myself for this job, instead of using my abilities. I figured that since I wasn't making sales, my style was failing. And while that may be true, I really haven't explored what my style is. Reading about ISFJ has helped me clarify what it was exactly that I liked about the jobs I have had and what I don't like about the one I am in currently.
Thursday, November 6, 2008
Rotten eggs
My latest self-project is working on my laziness. I am a spoiled brat to the core and understanding that fact has brought about great insights to my personality.
I was the last of 5 children and came as a surprise to my middle class, 40-something parents. I'm not quite sure why or how, but they gave me lots of stuff that my older siblings never got. Piles of presents for holidays, tons of new clothes, freedom to go to public school instead of parochial school. There were situational benefits, like being able to have my own room at such a young age because my older sisters had moved out. The best way for me to get attention was to wine and pout; something that I still tend to do (my poor husband!). I never felt I needed to apply myself because I was well taken care of. Why should I work when everything I needed was already here? My parents said to not worry about money, just keep being good. So here I am at 33 hoping that being good is going to bring me some sort of reward. UgH! If only I could throw out that card of my playing deck.
My parents were not always middle class. They were born right after the great depression and remember everyone having food stamps. They got jobs in their early teens to help out with the family, or babysat siblings so Mom could go to work, and went to parochial schools were all they spoke was French and Latin and the nuns would hit you with rulers if you didn't follow the rules. They understood what hard work meant and never let their emotions rule their actions (or at least from how the stories are told).
But when you grow up spoiled, which seems to be easy to do these days, all you do is react to your surroundings however you want to without the worry of negative repercussion. What you need to survive is readily available. Food, fridge and cabinets full, a place to live, and people that care about you and want to give you those things and want you to be happy. Most of the time they give it to you, just to shut you up- as in my case. But I see it in my children as well. The ungratefulness. So how am I passing this ill fate on?
My husband, on the other had, grew up in poverty with only a brother and an unstable mother. He remembers his mom bringing home a grocery bag full of brown rice one day and that is all they ate for weeks. He was constantly moving from apartment to apartment, from state to state until the age of 7 when he went to live with his grandparents. He started making his own money early with a paper route. In high school, he sold sodas out of a cooler in the band room, and worked almost full time at a bakery. While I sat on my fat ass and tooled around at a dumpy discount clothing store at minimum wage and no desire for anything more. Lazy.
Fast forward 18 years and here I am sitting at a desk in my home office, fighting the lazy thoughts of "why bother". "Why would I want to do all that work anyway?". It is as if I keep waiting for something to happen so that I don't have to do work. Ya know, the stuff that needs to get done but you don't want to do it.
The situation has changed, I have changed. Yet, these thoughts still force themselves into my tiny little brain and sabotage all my motivation.
I was the last of 5 children and came as a surprise to my middle class, 40-something parents. I'm not quite sure why or how, but they gave me lots of stuff that my older siblings never got. Piles of presents for holidays, tons of new clothes, freedom to go to public school instead of parochial school. There were situational benefits, like being able to have my own room at such a young age because my older sisters had moved out. The best way for me to get attention was to wine and pout; something that I still tend to do (my poor husband!). I never felt I needed to apply myself because I was well taken care of. Why should I work when everything I needed was already here? My parents said to not worry about money, just keep being good. So here I am at 33 hoping that being good is going to bring me some sort of reward. UgH! If only I could throw out that card of my playing deck.
My parents were not always middle class. They were born right after the great depression and remember everyone having food stamps. They got jobs in their early teens to help out with the family, or babysat siblings so Mom could go to work, and went to parochial schools were all they spoke was French and Latin and the nuns would hit you with rulers if you didn't follow the rules. They understood what hard work meant and never let their emotions rule their actions (or at least from how the stories are told).
But when you grow up spoiled, which seems to be easy to do these days, all you do is react to your surroundings however you want to without the worry of negative repercussion. What you need to survive is readily available. Food, fridge and cabinets full, a place to live, and people that care about you and want to give you those things and want you to be happy. Most of the time they give it to you, just to shut you up- as in my case. But I see it in my children as well. The ungratefulness. So how am I passing this ill fate on?
My husband, on the other had, grew up in poverty with only a brother and an unstable mother. He remembers his mom bringing home a grocery bag full of brown rice one day and that is all they ate for weeks. He was constantly moving from apartment to apartment, from state to state until the age of 7 when he went to live with his grandparents. He started making his own money early with a paper route. In high school, he sold sodas out of a cooler in the band room, and worked almost full time at a bakery. While I sat on my fat ass and tooled around at a dumpy discount clothing store at minimum wage and no desire for anything more. Lazy.
Fast forward 18 years and here I am sitting at a desk in my home office, fighting the lazy thoughts of "why bother". "Why would I want to do all that work anyway?". It is as if I keep waiting for something to happen so that I don't have to do work. Ya know, the stuff that needs to get done but you don't want to do it.
The situation has changed, I have changed. Yet, these thoughts still force themselves into my tiny little brain and sabotage all my motivation.
Monday, November 3, 2008
Connecticut
We are back in New England and have been since September 1st. Everything is still so very up in the air. I guess that is the way our life is. Always wondering if what we are doing is the "right" thing for us as a family. Somehow managing to keep a float financially, although usually to my surprise.
The ride back from North Carolina was one of the most stressful experiences in my life. This from a woman that has had four births! I thought I had planned it well enough, the same old route up I95 that everyone always told us not to take. "There is always so much traffic." "It is just so stressful with all those big trucks." "It took forever just to get across the George Washington Bridge."
Well, all I have to say is YES, they were right in every respect. Of course, it was Labor Day weekend, so we saw so many many cars from just about everywhere. It really was amazing how many people we saw.
The the thing that really pushed me over the edge, (well besides the 21 month old, the 3.5 year old and the 13 year old in the car with me and for some reason we couldn't get the adapter for the laptop to work right so they couldn't watch movies), was Jesse and Huckleberry following directly behind me in a huge 24' long Budget truck with our Buick on a dolly. Now, it was Jesse's idea to take this route instead of the scenic route that we took down. He was hoping with all of his might that it would be quicker, at least somewhat. But how fast can you go with a truck that large, filled to the brim with furniture and such, with a car on a dolly? At most, 70 miles per hour, and only if you are going downhill and your wife driving in front of you isn't going slower because she doesn't notice it is a hill and she is busy trying to keep kids occupied and stop them from yelling and crying. UGH....Just thinking of it is making my palms sweat.
It took us 16 hours. Yes, we are friggin crazy.
But the nice part is that we are home. Well, sort of. We are living IN a home. A nice house with 3 bedrooms, a 2 car garage, a nice driveway, a huge yard and even an inground pool! We are even back in our hometown where we know all of the stores and a lot of the people. The awesome libraries (yes there are 2!!) where everyone knows our family. Our old homeschool community that is full of good old friends. We have even gotten to see my dying mother which is amazing because we didn't think she would necessarily make it this long.
I have to tell you though....it just doesn't feel right. Perhaps it is just the time of year. Perhaps it is the time of man. But, it just feels....heartless. There is no thump thump. My blood has gone cold and we are wondering where we went wrong.
Should we have stayed in North Carolina? It is just because of the up coming election? What are we trying to do anyway>?
Good question.
The ride back from North Carolina was one of the most stressful experiences in my life. This from a woman that has had four births! I thought I had planned it well enough, the same old route up I95 that everyone always told us not to take. "There is always so much traffic." "It is just so stressful with all those big trucks." "It took forever just to get across the George Washington Bridge."
Well, all I have to say is YES, they were right in every respect. Of course, it was Labor Day weekend, so we saw so many many cars from just about everywhere. It really was amazing how many people we saw.
The the thing that really pushed me over the edge, (well besides the 21 month old, the 3.5 year old and the 13 year old in the car with me and for some reason we couldn't get the adapter for the laptop to work right so they couldn't watch movies), was Jesse and Huckleberry following directly behind me in a huge 24' long Budget truck with our Buick on a dolly. Now, it was Jesse's idea to take this route instead of the scenic route that we took down. He was hoping with all of his might that it would be quicker, at least somewhat. But how fast can you go with a truck that large, filled to the brim with furniture and such, with a car on a dolly? At most, 70 miles per hour, and only if you are going downhill and your wife driving in front of you isn't going slower because she doesn't notice it is a hill and she is busy trying to keep kids occupied and stop them from yelling and crying. UGH....Just thinking of it is making my palms sweat.
It took us 16 hours. Yes, we are friggin crazy.
But the nice part is that we are home. Well, sort of. We are living IN a home. A nice house with 3 bedrooms, a 2 car garage, a nice driveway, a huge yard and even an inground pool! We are even back in our hometown where we know all of the stores and a lot of the people. The awesome libraries (yes there are 2!!) where everyone knows our family. Our old homeschool community that is full of good old friends. We have even gotten to see my dying mother which is amazing because we didn't think she would necessarily make it this long.
I have to tell you though....it just doesn't feel right. Perhaps it is just the time of year. Perhaps it is the time of man. But, it just feels....heartless. There is no thump thump. My blood has gone cold and we are wondering where we went wrong.
Should we have stayed in North Carolina? It is just because of the up coming election? What are we trying to do anyway>?
Good question.
Saturday, August 23, 2008
Cacophony
Being a mother of four has produced a variety of experiences that I have never had before so I have needed to expand my vocabulary in order to describe them. Here is the latest.
Cacophony- noun-loud confusing disagreeable sounds
This can easily be produced on a beautiful Saturday morning at the local farmers market. It starts out nice and quite with Shillelagh in the sling, Fiona holding my hand, and Athena walking alongside holding the bag. We casually stroll through and view all the wonderful goods for sale and stop for a few moments to enjoy the live music. We stop and pick a few good looking eggplant and also find some lovely cherry tomatoes. Shillelagh decides that since cherry tomatoes are her absolute favorite food, she must twist and lean out of the sling to reach them almost knocking the entire container out of my hand. At that point Jesse and Huckleberry arrive. (This many kids means we take 2 cars) Shillelagh is kicking and crying to get more tomatoes for herself, unhappy with the speed that I am trying to shove them in her face. So, Jesse offers to take Shillelagh and I take her out of the sling to hand her over. BUT, she then grabs my index finger and proceeds to pull very hard saying "Pull, pull!!!" meaning she wants me to go with her. So I follow the child that has a death grip on my finger while the entire family follows behind closely, all seeming to talk to me and each other at the same time.
We make our way over to the candy store, which, by the way, is the main reason the kids wanted to come. We all pass the store and while Shillelagh has taken notice of a teddy bear in the store window, I get a chance to ask why they aren't going to get the candy they are so anxious for. That is when we become a cacophony. The older kids immediately start to argue while Jesse is trying to talk to me and Fiona is in her continuous 3 year old ramble, while Shillelagh has again decided to move along immediately with her death grip on my finger and our entire group is blocking the sidewalk so that no one can pass by.
So you may ask, why are we here, in this evil mix of chaos and pleasure? We thought that perhaps we could all get along for more than 5 minutes to enjoy our last Saturday at the Farmers Market. Stroll, enjoy some free samples, great live music, and pick up some candy as a special treat. But you just can't do these things with 4 kids. It is physically impossible because your brain is fried before you even think about why you are there in the first place.
The big kids went into the candy store, Jesse sat to talk with Fiona and answer some of her questions, while I struggled with Shillelagh, trying to keep her from running into the street. In the end I think we stayed for a total of 15 minutes. The last 5 minutes of which I was in the car with Shillelagh feeding her tomatoes while she was buckled into a car seat. To top it all off, the gang strolls over to the car after their jaunt to the candy store and Huckleberry and Fiona both step into an enormously soft pile of doggy doo doo. It was so large that Fiona had a huge chuck on the toe of her sparkly pink princess shoe. Thank goodness she didn't try to get into the car!
We are home and exhausted and don't plan on leaving the house with children until the move next Sunday. And perhaps not even that soon!
Cacophony- noun-loud confusing disagreeable sounds
This can easily be produced on a beautiful Saturday morning at the local farmers market. It starts out nice and quite with Shillelagh in the sling, Fiona holding my hand, and Athena walking alongside holding the bag. We casually stroll through and view all the wonderful goods for sale and stop for a few moments to enjoy the live music. We stop and pick a few good looking eggplant and also find some lovely cherry tomatoes. Shillelagh decides that since cherry tomatoes are her absolute favorite food, she must twist and lean out of the sling to reach them almost knocking the entire container out of my hand. At that point Jesse and Huckleberry arrive. (This many kids means we take 2 cars) Shillelagh is kicking and crying to get more tomatoes for herself, unhappy with the speed that I am trying to shove them in her face. So, Jesse offers to take Shillelagh and I take her out of the sling to hand her over. BUT, she then grabs my index finger and proceeds to pull very hard saying "Pull, pull!!!" meaning she wants me to go with her. So I follow the child that has a death grip on my finger while the entire family follows behind closely, all seeming to talk to me and each other at the same time.
We make our way over to the candy store, which, by the way, is the main reason the kids wanted to come. We all pass the store and while Shillelagh has taken notice of a teddy bear in the store window, I get a chance to ask why they aren't going to get the candy they are so anxious for. That is when we become a cacophony. The older kids immediately start to argue while Jesse is trying to talk to me and Fiona is in her continuous 3 year old ramble, while Shillelagh has again decided to move along immediately with her death grip on my finger and our entire group is blocking the sidewalk so that no one can pass by.
So you may ask, why are we here, in this evil mix of chaos and pleasure? We thought that perhaps we could all get along for more than 5 minutes to enjoy our last Saturday at the Farmers Market. Stroll, enjoy some free samples, great live music, and pick up some candy as a special treat. But you just can't do these things with 4 kids. It is physically impossible because your brain is fried before you even think about why you are there in the first place.
The big kids went into the candy store, Jesse sat to talk with Fiona and answer some of her questions, while I struggled with Shillelagh, trying to keep her from running into the street. In the end I think we stayed for a total of 15 minutes. The last 5 minutes of which I was in the car with Shillelagh feeding her tomatoes while she was buckled into a car seat. To top it all off, the gang strolls over to the car after their jaunt to the candy store and Huckleberry and Fiona both step into an enormously soft pile of doggy doo doo. It was so large that Fiona had a huge chuck on the toe of her sparkly pink princess shoe. Thank goodness she didn't try to get into the car!
We are home and exhausted and don't plan on leaving the house with children until the move next Sunday. And perhaps not even that soon!
Wednesday, August 20, 2008
Grandmother
Jesse and I decided to take Shillelagh out to Target the other day. She had tons of fun playing with all the different sorts of balls in the toy department as well as running through the clothing section! We had finally gotten her back into the cart and decided it was time to check out. While we were in line she decided that she wasn't going to be patient and started fussing and straining against the belt. So, instead of letting her get into a fit, I decided to start playing some hand games with her. We started out with the classic Patty-cake which she absolutely adores. (And is quite adorable herself while she is clapping and singing along :))
When it was our turn, the cashier said, (specifically now, this is her word for word)..."It's asking for your date of birth." Now being the semi-intelligent person I am, I realized that while she didn't actually acknowledge my existence with a "Hello" she was speaking to me and although I probably look old enough to purchase the beer she scanned, the register won't move along unless she types in a birthdate. So, I give her the date and continued my game with my lovely little toddler which had progressed into the Itsy Bitsy Spider.
The cashier then says to me, " Grandmother?".
Now, I wasn't quite sure if she was talking to me or not. Perhaps she just remembered something that made her blurt out the word Grandmother. Perhaps she is a grandmother and wanted to share in her pride. Perhaps she thought that their should be a grandmother in the Itsy Bitsy Spider.
I stared at her with a questioning look while these thoughts spun around my head. Sort of like a dog will look at you when you are calling it's name and has no idea what you are trying to communicate.
She then says, "Oh, I'm sorry, it's just that usually when their young only the grandmother has time for silly games. You usually don't have time for that when they are young."
Now, that seems like a logical train of thought, sort of. But I had just given her my birthdate which makes me 33. While it is possible that I had a child at sixteen and then my child had a child at 16, it is highly unlikely. And then again, do I look like a grandmother????
So while I stood there dumbfounded and searching for reason, Jesse comes to the rescue with "Yes, we like to play silly games. We think it is a lot of fun. We don't mind being silly at all."
So I have officially been grandmothered! Now, I really don't have a problem with getting older. Actually, I like being in my 30's. There is a sense of accomplishment and I don't have so many silly and petty thoughts running through my head. But I hadn't realize that I could be considered a grandmother to some. It always amazes me how other people see things and how their standards for judgment, like this cashiers' judgment for what a grandmother is and does, is so very very different from mine. I truly appreciated the enlightenment she gave me that came from her assumption.
Jesse also so lovingly put it, "You are the sexiest grandmother I know!!:)"
What a sweet and endearing husband!
Friday, August 15, 2008
Jesse and I started walking together in the mornings. Good, long walks that are keeping us in shape physically and helping us mentally as well. We have always been talkers and the only way the two of us can have a decent conversation is by leaving the house without any children :) Thank goodness that Athena and Huckleberry are so very capable of taking care of their little sisters. Perhaps they see how much the walks are keeping us sane!
We found a Green way a neighborhood or two over that must run a couple of miles long. It is a paved path that follows the electricity lines from Falls Of Neuse just about all the way to the New Falls of Neuse. We have been walking it for a couple of days now, even brought the girls in the double stroller while Huckleberry rode his bike yesterday. Today though, I happened to notice the graveyard in the above picture. It is undeniably old with some of the stones dating back to 1790. There is even information there about the cemetery and how it is the descendants of the original white families that settled in the area.
The strange part is that this cemetery is hidden behind the long line of shrubbery that lines the road nearby. Never mind the enormous electrical lines and support structures. A hidden cemetery is a strange find among this large rolling neighborhoods of organized classist communities. Perhaps they don't really want anyone to remember who came here before.
Wednesday, August 13, 2008
The small house
Our family strives to live fairly simply and coming from a middle class background where I thought everyone was spoiled like myself, I have come to the realization that I still have very spoiled ways. While my husband grew up thankful and poor, sometimes eating only brown rice for weeks at a time and the occasional candy stolen from the corner market, I was feasting. Pancakes, french toast, eggs or cereal for breakfast, sandwiches with my choices of chips and cookies for lunch, and supper was a traditional meat, starch, vegetable meal with desert, of course. It extends throughout my family as well. I remember one of my sisters complaining about having broccoli twice in one week and how boring that was. I am still having trouble eating the same meal more than twice in a week, but I am working on it. It also doesn't help that I am an emotional eater, another side effect from an affluent lifestyle.
I found this wonderful article in our old local paper. It is tiny but I can see it's magic!
I found this wonderful article in our old local paper. It is tiny but I can see it's magic!
Sunday, August 10, 2008
Things I will miss about North Carolina
The things I will miss about North Carolina...
1- The sunsets that seem to happen in the middle of the sky
2- The heat! I just love hot weather although the rest of my family is looking forward to snow...yuck! That means cold, cold and more cold. I am a small person without enough insulation to keep me warm, even in the fall. I usually end up wearing sweaters for about 8 months out of the years.
3- The smell. I can't define it but it is a smell I have never smelled anywhere else. I noticed it the moment we got out of the car.
4- WSHA A college jazz radio station that plays the greatest music. From Shaw University.
5- The ability to buy beer and wine at the grocery store any time of day any day of the week! Not like that in CT.
6-Big John at our local Food Lion. He is usually does the bagging and the "buggy" return. He always has a big smile and something positive to say. He even helps me put my groceries in my car! Some stores even have baggers that bag your groceries, bring them to your car and load them. It's wonderful when you are trying to handle 2 hungry toddlers.
7- The Wake Forest Farmers Market on Saturday mornings. It's just so full of life and beautiful treasures. Never mind great live music and the store that you can buy candy by the pound from beautiful glass jars.
8- The wonderful Crape Myrtle trees that smell wonderful and look beautiful.
9- The great people at Youngs Gym that let Fiona play, bounce, run, and climb all over their equipment. They were so positive and enthusiastic they made me feel so great every Monday at 3:00.
10- All the supportive and interesting families we met through homeschooling.
1- The sunsets that seem to happen in the middle of the sky
2- The heat! I just love hot weather although the rest of my family is looking forward to snow...yuck! That means cold, cold and more cold. I am a small person without enough insulation to keep me warm, even in the fall. I usually end up wearing sweaters for about 8 months out of the years.
3- The smell. I can't define it but it is a smell I have never smelled anywhere else. I noticed it the moment we got out of the car.
4- WSHA A college jazz radio station that plays the greatest music. From Shaw University.
5- The ability to buy beer and wine at the grocery store any time of day any day of the week! Not like that in CT.
6-Big John at our local Food Lion. He is usually does the bagging and the "buggy" return. He always has a big smile and something positive to say. He even helps me put my groceries in my car! Some stores even have baggers that bag your groceries, bring them to your car and load them. It's wonderful when you are trying to handle 2 hungry toddlers.
7- The Wake Forest Farmers Market on Saturday mornings. It's just so full of life and beautiful treasures. Never mind great live music and the store that you can buy candy by the pound from beautiful glass jars.
8- The wonderful Crape Myrtle trees that smell wonderful and look beautiful.
9- The great people at Youngs Gym that let Fiona play, bounce, run, and climb all over their equipment. They were so positive and enthusiastic they made me feel so great every Monday at 3:00.
10- All the supportive and interesting families we met through homeschooling.
Saturday, August 9, 2008
Surrender
About 3 years ago right before the fall equinox of 2005 and so many many many strange changes had taken place in the previous 12 months, a word kept popping into my mind.
Surrender
Here is what Merriam-Webster has to say.
1 a: to yield to the power, control, or possession of another upon compulsion or demand b: to give up completely or agree to forgo especially in favor of another2 a: to give (oneself) up into the power of another especially as a prisoner b: to give (oneself) over to something (as an influence)intransitive verb: to give oneself up into the power of another : yield
I used to view this word with the meaning in the sense of failure. Ya know, surrender with your hands up and all that sort of thing. Someone taking control of you, with force and making you surrender. Not the willful acceptance of the universal spirit in your life and how you really have very little control over it and the best thing to do is acknowledge the lack of that control and well........surrender to life.
Jesse has been layed off and we are enjoying spending long days all together as a tight knit family. While there certainly are many emotions flying around with all of this uncertainty in front of us and choices we need to make, we have been able to get reconnected with him and he with us without the immediate stress of a full time manual labor job in the way of our conversations. Luckily this also means that I am getting some time to myself to do things like write in my blog and read some books. He even picked one up for me at Goodwill. "Surrendering to Motherhood" by Iris Krasnow. It is exactly what I needed.
She was a successful journalist of the baby boom era that lived the high life of singledom into her thirties only to feel as if she is missing something essential. She then get's married and has 4 babies before the age of 40. Not just any sort of babies but four boy babies including a set of twins. Talk about a forced surrender! Her thoughts and anecdotes and all of the quotes about mothering from the famous women she interviewed make for a wonderful read. Putting the essential ideas of Buddhism to the test and being the mother, yin. It's the first time I have read a book about mothering where I wasn't put off. Her thoughts and emotions are very real and understandable. Not only during the early years filled with freedom and excitement but later on when she finds fulfillment in picking up all of the eggs her toddlers just threw onto the floor.
Being in the moment. The here and the now.
The only task truly at hand on a daily basis. To enjoy the fullness, the richness of who you are and where you are. To fully live the life that can only be yours. To see your purpose right in front of you. Surrendering to life.
Surrender
Here is what Merriam-Webster has to say.
1 a: to yield to the power, control, or possession of another upon compulsion or demand
I used to view this word with the meaning in the sense of failure. Ya know, surrender with your hands up and all that sort of thing. Someone taking control of you, with force and making you surrender. Not the willful acceptance of the universal spirit in your life and how you really have very little control over it and the best thing to do is acknowledge the lack of that control and well........surrender to life.
Jesse has been layed off and we are enjoying spending long days all together as a tight knit family. While there certainly are many emotions flying around with all of this uncertainty in front of us and choices we need to make, we have been able to get reconnected with him and he with us without the immediate stress of a full time manual labor job in the way of our conversations. Luckily this also means that I am getting some time to myself to do things like write in my blog and read some books. He even picked one up for me at Goodwill. "Surrendering to Motherhood" by Iris Krasnow. It is exactly what I needed.
She was a successful journalist of the baby boom era that lived the high life of singledom into her thirties only to feel as if she is missing something essential. She then get's married and has 4 babies before the age of 40. Not just any sort of babies but four boy babies including a set of twins. Talk about a forced surrender! Her thoughts and anecdotes and all of the quotes about mothering from the famous women she interviewed make for a wonderful read. Putting the essential ideas of Buddhism to the test and being the mother, yin. It's the first time I have read a book about mothering where I wasn't put off. Her thoughts and emotions are very real and understandable. Not only during the early years filled with freedom and excitement but later on when she finds fulfillment in picking up all of the eggs her toddlers just threw onto the floor.
Being in the moment. The here and the now.
The only task truly at hand on a daily basis. To enjoy the fullness, the richness of who you are and where you are. To fully live the life that can only be yours. To see your purpose right in front of you. Surrendering to life.
Thursday, March 13, 2008
It's been a long time
For the last 2 months our internet service has been absolutely terrible. Never mind it being dial up, but the phone line had a constant hum which just screwed everything up. This 80's girl just can't live with dial up. There is a permanent dent in the wall above the computer station. It's from constantly banging my head in frustration.
Thank goodness for cable!!!
We have moved yet again. We are now in north Raleigh in an apartment complex. It is wonderful to have people so close. The old dream of living off the land in the middle of nowhere is now off the checklist of things we want to do.
The apartment is very nice and has plenty of room. The only thing I worry about is the fact that the 6 of us and the dog are on the 3rd floor. Currently the apartment below us is unoccupied. I just wonder if we sound like a herd of elephants all day long. Well, there is only so much that you can control, so I will just cross my fingers and hope that either a family or a deaf person move in underneath :)
We also have some playmates, which the kids are so thankful for. It's a family that also relocated with the company. Not only did they make us dinner the second night we were here, but on Monday they took us to Falls Lake and we had such a great time. The lake is huge and there are so many trails and places to sit and relax. It was wonderful.
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