I just overheard my 10 year old ask her friend over the phone,
"Who is your favorite president?"
I see my history nerd husband is rubbing on her.
Which reminds me, I have been meaning to mention this interesting little bit of toilet trivia.
My husband is reading a book about Andrew Jackson. Did you know that Andrew Jackson and his wife adopted a baby which was one of twin babies that were born to one of their siblings? Yeah, apparantely twins were such a financial burden that the two women got together and cooked up a scheme arranging for the adoption of only one of the babies. Can you even imagine someone doing something like that now?
Yeah, I'm a nerd too.
Showing posts with label Family. Show all posts
Showing posts with label Family. Show all posts
Monday, February 22, 2010
Friday, February 19, 2010
Can someone explain men to me?
My husband has been a total grump lately. Granted, he has been under an enormous amount of pressure and stress at work and he has been working like a zillion hours a week, but I don’t get men. When I am really stressed out at work, I love to go home to my man and curl up on the couch with him.
It seems like I read Men are from Mars years ago and I remember something about men having to retreat to their cave and how you should leave them alone.
Okay, ya’ll, I am not good at the leaving alone thing. Our house isn’t that big, how do I ignore him when he is right there in my face being a BFG (big fat grump). Not to mention, this is the first time in our marriage where I have felt like my husband truly does not like me. And of course, that makes me more henlike.
I’m not so self-absorbed to think that this has anything to do with me other than I am there, but it is really bugging me.
So do any of you seasoned married ladies have any advice for me on this? How do you support your man through stressful situations when everything that would make you feel better seems to make him grumpier?
It seems like I read Men are from Mars years ago and I remember something about men having to retreat to their cave and how you should leave them alone.
Okay, ya’ll, I am not good at the leaving alone thing. Our house isn’t that big, how do I ignore him when he is right there in my face being a BFG (big fat grump). Not to mention, this is the first time in our marriage where I have felt like my husband truly does not like me. And of course, that makes me more henlike.
I’m not so self-absorbed to think that this has anything to do with me other than I am there, but it is really bugging me.
So do any of you seasoned married ladies have any advice for me on this? How do you support your man through stressful situations when everything that would make you feel better seems to make him grumpier?
Saturday, February 13, 2010
The way things change
Tomorrow it will be 6 years since Dave and I started dating (we have been married for almost 4). The date was on a Saturday, so I figure that would actually be tonight.
That night we went to dinner and a movie and then back to my place. I think right about now we were sitting on my couch having a beer and talking. We had so much to talk about back then because neither of us had heard each others stories yet. I don't mean that to sound wistful because we still talk a lot, but we have definitely heard each others stories. It is fun to remember the times at the beginning of love when you can't get enough of each other and talk on the phone for hours and the thoughts of that person consume you.
Right now Dave is playing Call of Duty with Sam and I am in the office blogging. It is 10:30 on a Saturday night. It's funny how things change.
I came home yesterday to find that Dave had purchased me a spa package and scheduled it for tomorrow. So I will be getting a 90 minute massage tomorrow morning followed by a manicure and pedicure. That man has come a long way on his gift giving. I used to have to tell him exactly what to buy for me or he would freak out and not buy my anything (this includes my engagment ring, he was too afraid to pick it out without me)
My point is that while it is fun to remember what it was like at the beginning, right now is exactly where I want to be.
That night we went to dinner and a movie and then back to my place. I think right about now we were sitting on my couch having a beer and talking. We had so much to talk about back then because neither of us had heard each others stories yet. I don't mean that to sound wistful because we still talk a lot, but we have definitely heard each others stories. It is fun to remember the times at the beginning of love when you can't get enough of each other and talk on the phone for hours and the thoughts of that person consume you.
Right now Dave is playing Call of Duty with Sam and I am in the office blogging. It is 10:30 on a Saturday night. It's funny how things change.
I came home yesterday to find that Dave had purchased me a spa package and scheduled it for tomorrow. So I will be getting a 90 minute massage tomorrow morning followed by a manicure and pedicure. That man has come a long way on his gift giving. I used to have to tell him exactly what to buy for me or he would freak out and not buy my anything (this includes my engagment ring, he was too afraid to pick it out without me)
My point is that while it is fun to remember what it was like at the beginning, right now is exactly where I want to be.
Monday, February 1, 2010
As I Recall
When I was young, before I understood politics and social stereotypes, my paternal grandparents lived in a double wide trailer. It was an hour drive from our house. Every other Sunday we would go to church and then to visit and there was always a pot of spaghetti sauce simmering away on the stove. It was my grandpa’s “secret” recipe and was loaded with big chunks of beef and pork and sausage. When we arrived my grandma would start a pot of water to cook the noodles and it seemed like forever before they would be ready. They served the spaghetti with fresh grated parmesan cheese and a simple vinegar and oil salad. I don’t remember the dishes or the silverware or the glasses, but I remember that the table was wooden with a bench on one side and it sat in front of a large window at the front of the trailer overlooking the driveway where my grandpa’s car was parked. It was usually a large sedan like a Crown Victoria or a Grand Marquis and in my mind it is maroon. I wonder now if he always drove a Ford, like I remember, or if my memory is skewed because my dad always drove a Ford. Perhaps it was a Chevy or a Buick.
The carpet was green (I remember it as green, but on this detail I am fuzzy) and the couch was covered in orange and brown flowers. There was a grandfather clock in the corner and a fire place surrounded by fake bricks that when turned on radiated heat and flashed a fake orange flame. My grandma had lamps that turned on when you touched them. I thought that was really fascinating and would run my child hands over the lamp as lightly as possible to see how sensitive it was. The lamp was gold.
In the back room, there was a globe on a stand and a portrait of Jack and Bobby Kennedy on the wall. The portrait stands out in my mind (and my cousins as several were talking about it at the funeral a few weeks ago). I remember staring at it. I didn’t really know much about Jack Kennedy except that he had been President and that he had the same name as my dad. I knew nothing of Bobby Kennedy. The portrait said JFK and RFK and had their birth and death dates. I would stare at these dates and the images of their faces, these men who meant nothing to me but with my adult knowledge, I understand their impact on the American political landscape. I know so much more of these men now and it is fascinating to me how your adult knowledge can overlay your childhood memories like tracing paper. I recently attempted to find a print of this painting on the vast expanse that is the internet, but it was nowhere to be found. Strange, I would have thought it would have been abundant on ebay and the like. If I had not spoken of it with my family, I would be questioning myself if it had actually existed other than in my head.
I don’t remember the bathroom, although I’m sure I used it.
Across the street was a steep hill and a field with only utility poles and power lines. I used to play out there with my cousins if any of them happened to be there on the same day. Sometimes it was just my parents, brothers and me. And later, just my parents and me. I remember myself in girly dresses with ruffles and knit tights, but maybe my mom brought a change of clothes for me because I don’t see myself in a dress rolling down the hill.
Inside, the tv was always on. It was nothing I was interested in because I don’t remember what was on it. My grandpa would put the remote in his pocket so no one could change the channel. There was a plaque on the shelf that said, “May you be in heaven a half hour before the devil knows your dead”. I didn’t understand what that meant and my mom had to explain it to me. The plaque had a green shamrock on it (My grandpa was Italian, but my grandma was Irish)
On Easter, the kitchen table would hold an Easter basket full of chocolate, and dyed hard boiled eggs and jelly beans and chewy sugary pieces shaped like lambs and chicks all on a bed of purple or green plastic grass. Was there a Christmas tree at Christmas? We never went on actual Christmas, the family was too large and the trailer too small so we always went to my aunt and uncles house instead. My memories don’t include a Christmas tree.
We would eat and visit and then load up into the car to drive the hour back home. And I would lounge in the backseat, my dress flopping every which way (and very unladylike), with my tights drooping at the crotch and my shoes discarded on the floor, the dark cloud of school the next morning hanging over my head not knowing what important memories these visits would turn out to be later in my life, not ever thinking of a day when both my grandparents would be gone, not ever thinking about politics or religion or old Irish Blessings, not ever thinking that I should pay closer attention to the bathroom in my grandparents trailer.
This was one visit and every visit. Later, they moved out of the trailer, I think I was already away at college and my visits had become less and less frequent. My grandpa started dementia. He got lost driving around in his car and they had to take it away from him. Then he went into a nursing home and then he died. I was in my last year of college. I don’t remember ever eating the spaghetti anywhere but the trailer, and in fact, I’m quite sure that my memory is accurate on that point. She lived from then until just a few weeks ago, by herself, in the condo they had moved to, still making her own meals and her own bed. But, of course, they live on in their 7 children and their children and their children’s children and in stories like this.
The carpet was green (I remember it as green, but on this detail I am fuzzy) and the couch was covered in orange and brown flowers. There was a grandfather clock in the corner and a fire place surrounded by fake bricks that when turned on radiated heat and flashed a fake orange flame. My grandma had lamps that turned on when you touched them. I thought that was really fascinating and would run my child hands over the lamp as lightly as possible to see how sensitive it was. The lamp was gold.
In the back room, there was a globe on a stand and a portrait of Jack and Bobby Kennedy on the wall. The portrait stands out in my mind (and my cousins as several were talking about it at the funeral a few weeks ago). I remember staring at it. I didn’t really know much about Jack Kennedy except that he had been President and that he had the same name as my dad. I knew nothing of Bobby Kennedy. The portrait said JFK and RFK and had their birth and death dates. I would stare at these dates and the images of their faces, these men who meant nothing to me but with my adult knowledge, I understand their impact on the American political landscape. I know so much more of these men now and it is fascinating to me how your adult knowledge can overlay your childhood memories like tracing paper. I recently attempted to find a print of this painting on the vast expanse that is the internet, but it was nowhere to be found. Strange, I would have thought it would have been abundant on ebay and the like. If I had not spoken of it with my family, I would be questioning myself if it had actually existed other than in my head.
I don’t remember the bathroom, although I’m sure I used it.
Across the street was a steep hill and a field with only utility poles and power lines. I used to play out there with my cousins if any of them happened to be there on the same day. Sometimes it was just my parents, brothers and me. And later, just my parents and me. I remember myself in girly dresses with ruffles and knit tights, but maybe my mom brought a change of clothes for me because I don’t see myself in a dress rolling down the hill.
Inside, the tv was always on. It was nothing I was interested in because I don’t remember what was on it. My grandpa would put the remote in his pocket so no one could change the channel. There was a plaque on the shelf that said, “May you be in heaven a half hour before the devil knows your dead”. I didn’t understand what that meant and my mom had to explain it to me. The plaque had a green shamrock on it (My grandpa was Italian, but my grandma was Irish)
On Easter, the kitchen table would hold an Easter basket full of chocolate, and dyed hard boiled eggs and jelly beans and chewy sugary pieces shaped like lambs and chicks all on a bed of purple or green plastic grass. Was there a Christmas tree at Christmas? We never went on actual Christmas, the family was too large and the trailer too small so we always went to my aunt and uncles house instead. My memories don’t include a Christmas tree.
We would eat and visit and then load up into the car to drive the hour back home. And I would lounge in the backseat, my dress flopping every which way (and very unladylike), with my tights drooping at the crotch and my shoes discarded on the floor, the dark cloud of school the next morning hanging over my head not knowing what important memories these visits would turn out to be later in my life, not ever thinking of a day when both my grandparents would be gone, not ever thinking about politics or religion or old Irish Blessings, not ever thinking that I should pay closer attention to the bathroom in my grandparents trailer.
This was one visit and every visit. Later, they moved out of the trailer, I think I was already away at college and my visits had become less and less frequent. My grandpa started dementia. He got lost driving around in his car and they had to take it away from him. Then he went into a nursing home and then he died. I was in my last year of college. I don’t remember ever eating the spaghetti anywhere but the trailer, and in fact, I’m quite sure that my memory is accurate on that point. She lived from then until just a few weeks ago, by herself, in the condo they had moved to, still making her own meals and her own bed. But, of course, they live on in their 7 children and their children and their children’s children and in stories like this.
Sunday, January 17, 2010
I think it's gonna rain today
My grandma passed away this morning. And I'm sad.
This was my dad's mom and my last grandparent to go. So that makes it a little extra sad. I suppose in a way this makes my mom and dad orphans.
However, today I have been trying to focus on the fact that she lived an amazing life. She was 91 and healthy up until very recently. Her death was not long and drawn out and I don't think she suffered. She had 7 kids, all of who outlived her and oodles of grandchildren and great grandchildren. My grandpa passed away about 12 years ago, so she doesn't have to be without him anymore.
It really is the way life should go, but I can't help feeling so sad. It's the end of something.
I will miss you grandma. You were so loved.
This was my dad's mom and my last grandparent to go. So that makes it a little extra sad. I suppose in a way this makes my mom and dad orphans.
However, today I have been trying to focus on the fact that she lived an amazing life. She was 91 and healthy up until very recently. Her death was not long and drawn out and I don't think she suffered. She had 7 kids, all of who outlived her and oodles of grandchildren and great grandchildren. My grandpa passed away about 12 years ago, so she doesn't have to be without him anymore.
It really is the way life should go, but I can't help feeling so sad. It's the end of something.
I will miss you grandma. You were so loved.
Saturday, January 16, 2010
Not so excited about January so far
This month hasn't been the greatest so far. With our vacation and the holidays in December, I felt like I worked part-time (probably because I basically did work part-time).
So when January started, I told myself it was back to the grind time. I was meal-planning a week at a time, getting back into the groove at work, keeping the house clean. I was refreshed from having so much time off last month.
But of course, it only took me about 1 week to remember why I hate my job. And then I got called for Jury Duty. And then my grandma got really really sick and I had to drive 3 hours one way in a blizzard so I could see her before she passed. And then she didn't pass (but it has been touch and go and I am convinced that doctors know nothing) and I got stuck on two (yes two) jury trials that I have to go back for at the end of the month.
Then yesterday was Dave's birthday, but my boss (who is never in town) was in town and I had a bunch of meetings so I didn't get home until later than I wanted to. And we were supposed to go out for a very nice dinner tonight and my mom called me this morning to tell me that my grandma is indeed dying and they don't expect her to make it through the weekend. So dinner is cancelled and I feel terrible.
And then I started thinking of everything that is on my plate at work this coming week and I figure I am going to be out at least 1 or 2 days for the funeral and there is this huge meeting where a bunch of people are flying in and what if I have to miss it. I know you are probably thinking, who cares about work when there are family issues to be tended to? And that is mostly how I feel, but honestly I have been so unengaged at work that I was already feeling guilty about it so while I could care less about missing the meeting, I feel guilty about not caring. Does that even make sense?
I really am over January. Really. And it is only the 16th.
So when January started, I told myself it was back to the grind time. I was meal-planning a week at a time, getting back into the groove at work, keeping the house clean. I was refreshed from having so much time off last month.
But of course, it only took me about 1 week to remember why I hate my job. And then I got called for Jury Duty. And then my grandma got really really sick and I had to drive 3 hours one way in a blizzard so I could see her before she passed. And then she didn't pass (but it has been touch and go and I am convinced that doctors know nothing) and I got stuck on two (yes two) jury trials that I have to go back for at the end of the month.
Then yesterday was Dave's birthday, but my boss (who is never in town) was in town and I had a bunch of meetings so I didn't get home until later than I wanted to. And we were supposed to go out for a very nice dinner tonight and my mom called me this morning to tell me that my grandma is indeed dying and they don't expect her to make it through the weekend. So dinner is cancelled and I feel terrible.
And then I started thinking of everything that is on my plate at work this coming week and I figure I am going to be out at least 1 or 2 days for the funeral and there is this huge meeting where a bunch of people are flying in and what if I have to miss it. I know you are probably thinking, who cares about work when there are family issues to be tended to? And that is mostly how I feel, but honestly I have been so unengaged at work that I was already feeling guilty about it so while I could care less about missing the meeting, I feel guilty about not caring. Does that even make sense?
I really am over January. Really. And it is only the 16th.
Sunday, November 29, 2009
Christmas, Fruit Cake and All That Stuff
I put the tree up today. I was totally not feeling in the holiday spirit and I really didn't want to put the tree up, but with kids in the house, I feel that would be a terrible thing not to decorate the house. It didn't take me long to get into the spirit once I started unwrapping the ornaments.
Every year I buy each person in the family an ornament that symbolizes something about them. Also each year, we take the kids to Bronners in Frankenmuth and let them each pick out an ornament. These ornaments become property of the recipient and he or she gets to hang them on the tree each year. I figure by the time the kids are out of high school I will have to have a much bigger tree or two trees!
Today I was smiling and remembering the stories attached to each ornament. Where did I buy it, what does it mean, etc....
With all the Christmas memories I started thinking about fruit cake and my grandma (my mom's mom). She used to bake, a lot. And fruit cake was one of her specialties. So if you've ever made fruitcake, you know that the candied fruit that is the main ingredient, is pretty expensive. Well, when my grandma passed away my mom got all of her recipes and when she sorted through them she found 6 or 7 different recipes for my grandma's fruitcake. Each one progressively called for more fruit until the last recipe that was almost all fruit. Apparently as she got more money, she would increase the amount of fruit.
I find that story so charming and I was thinking about it today so I thought I share it with all of you. What Christmas memories are you thinking about while you unwrap your decorations?
Every year I buy each person in the family an ornament that symbolizes something about them. Also each year, we take the kids to Bronners in Frankenmuth and let them each pick out an ornament. These ornaments become property of the recipient and he or she gets to hang them on the tree each year. I figure by the time the kids are out of high school I will have to have a much bigger tree or two trees!
Today I was smiling and remembering the stories attached to each ornament. Where did I buy it, what does it mean, etc....
With all the Christmas memories I started thinking about fruit cake and my grandma (my mom's mom). She used to bake, a lot. And fruit cake was one of her specialties. So if you've ever made fruitcake, you know that the candied fruit that is the main ingredient, is pretty expensive. Well, when my grandma passed away my mom got all of her recipes and when she sorted through them she found 6 or 7 different recipes for my grandma's fruitcake. Each one progressively called for more fruit until the last recipe that was almost all fruit. Apparently as she got more money, she would increase the amount of fruit.
I find that story so charming and I was thinking about it today so I thought I share it with all of you. What Christmas memories are you thinking about while you unwrap your decorations?
Sunday, September 23, 2007
Remembering the Bad Times
Today I took Guinness for a walk. It was absolutely beautiful outside. The sky was gorgeous and totally blue. I couldn't find a cloud. It was sunny but the air was slightly cool and it was quiet. And it reminded me of a time in my life that wasn't so great.
Let me explain. Some of you (or most of you) know that about 6 years ago, I had an event. I don't need to go into specifics, but lets just say I was fed up with my life. So I quit my job at USA TODAY and left the state. Rather suddenly, I might add. I gave my two weeks notice, worked it less one day and when I was done, I packed my stuff and went to Indianapolis to stay with my old college roomie, Donna at her brother Dale's house. He had a house in the cute development south of the city. It had starter style homes, retirement condos, lovely single family homes and a golf course. Donna got me a job driving the beer cart at that golf course. This was right around the beginning of September and the weather was much like it has been here of late.
And I was heartbroken. And, I was lonely, and I was sad. I had left my job, my family, and everything familiar. But I knew I needed this sabbatical. So I started my job driving the beer cart. But of course, it was only part time so I had a lot of spare time on my hands.
Donna's brother Dale had this chocolate lab named Buster (RIP dear Buster). And we spent a lot of time together. I walked that dog all over the neighborhood. And I would take my journal and stop by the pond and write. And Buster would just sit there and wait for me. I spent hours walking around that neighborhood with Buster. It got to where he would get so excited if I even touched my running shoes. He became my best friend. It was the first time I had ever developed such a bond with a dog.
Which brings me to why today's walk reminded me of then. Do you know what I used to think about when I would walk around the neighborhood with Buster? I would look at all those beautiful homes and feel positively empty. I would just ache because that was exactly what I wanted. I wanted to love someone and be loved. I wanted to be fulfilled and at that particular point in my life, I couldn't have felt less fulfilled and I couldn't have felt more alone. I would walk and think about how I wanted to have one of those houses and the family that was inside of it.
I try very hard in my life now to be happy with what I have. And today, being reminded of how bad it was, reminded of good it is now. I was walking around my neighborhood, with my dog, and my husband was at home waiting for me. And when I walk in the door of my beautiful home, he kisses me and tells me how much he loves me. That it was so sour then, makes it all the more sweet now.
Let me explain. Some of you (or most of you) know that about 6 years ago, I had an event. I don't need to go into specifics, but lets just say I was fed up with my life. So I quit my job at USA TODAY and left the state. Rather suddenly, I might add. I gave my two weeks notice, worked it less one day and when I was done, I packed my stuff and went to Indianapolis to stay with my old college roomie, Donna at her brother Dale's house. He had a house in the cute development south of the city. It had starter style homes, retirement condos, lovely single family homes and a golf course. Donna got me a job driving the beer cart at that golf course. This was right around the beginning of September and the weather was much like it has been here of late.
And I was heartbroken. And, I was lonely, and I was sad. I had left my job, my family, and everything familiar. But I knew I needed this sabbatical. So I started my job driving the beer cart. But of course, it was only part time so I had a lot of spare time on my hands.
Donna's brother Dale had this chocolate lab named Buster (RIP dear Buster). And we spent a lot of time together. I walked that dog all over the neighborhood. And I would take my journal and stop by the pond and write. And Buster would just sit there and wait for me. I spent hours walking around that neighborhood with Buster. It got to where he would get so excited if I even touched my running shoes. He became my best friend. It was the first time I had ever developed such a bond with a dog.
Which brings me to why today's walk reminded me of then. Do you know what I used to think about when I would walk around the neighborhood with Buster? I would look at all those beautiful homes and feel positively empty. I would just ache because that was exactly what I wanted. I wanted to love someone and be loved. I wanted to be fulfilled and at that particular point in my life, I couldn't have felt less fulfilled and I couldn't have felt more alone. I would walk and think about how I wanted to have one of those houses and the family that was inside of it.
I try very hard in my life now to be happy with what I have. And today, being reminded of how bad it was, reminded of good it is now. I was walking around my neighborhood, with my dog, and my husband was at home waiting for me. And when I walk in the door of my beautiful home, he kisses me and tells me how much he loves me. That it was so sour then, makes it all the more sweet now.
Wednesday, June 20, 2007
Summer Daze
The kids started summer camp Monday. It's a day camp that is located in Howell. I found it for them last year to save them from spending the summer laying on the couch watching tv, playing video games and eating. They bitched about it at first (with a little help from someone else) but I won the day and they ended up loving it.
BONUS - Sam was too old this year for the regular day camp, but they asked him to be a junior counselor this year. So we don't have to pay for him. That saves us a ton of money and he's getting leadership training which we are hoping will help to make him a little bit more self assured and assertive.
Day camp is especially good for my little girl. She's not like me at all in that she is very very outgoing and social. She does so much better when she is busy. So she gets to spend her days running around, swimming and riding on the camps zip line. Did I mention that when we took her to Disney World she rode more rides than I did, including the Tower or Terror which even her brother would not ride? She also mastered riding her bike this year. Last year we just couldn't get her going and this year Dave took her out twice and she had it. Now she wants to ride it all over the neighborhood. She's really flourishing. I'm so proud and take all the credit :) Once I get my wedding photos back I'll post some before and afters for you to enjoy. (Ahemmm, Alison. I'm just kidding don't send me hate mail).
On a totally different note, I am taking vacation days the week of the fourth of July! I am counting down the days until I can sit around the house and complete exciting tasks like organizing the junk drawer and cleaning out my closet.
BONUS - Sam was too old this year for the regular day camp, but they asked him to be a junior counselor this year. So we don't have to pay for him. That saves us a ton of money and he's getting leadership training which we are hoping will help to make him a little bit more self assured and assertive.
Day camp is especially good for my little girl. She's not like me at all in that she is very very outgoing and social. She does so much better when she is busy. So she gets to spend her days running around, swimming and riding on the camps zip line. Did I mention that when we took her to Disney World she rode more rides than I did, including the Tower or Terror which even her brother would not ride? She also mastered riding her bike this year. Last year we just couldn't get her going and this year Dave took her out twice and she had it. Now she wants to ride it all over the neighborhood. She's really flourishing. I'm so proud and take all the credit :) Once I get my wedding photos back I'll post some before and afters for you to enjoy. (Ahemmm, Alison. I'm just kidding don't send me hate mail).
On a totally different note, I am taking vacation days the week of the fourth of July! I am counting down the days until I can sit around the house and complete exciting tasks like organizing the junk drawer and cleaning out my closet.
Monday, April 30, 2007
Busy Weekend
Pheww! We had the busiest weekend that I can remember for some time. Rebecca had Brownie camp on Saturday and I had to drop her off to the carpool at 7:15 am. Waking up to an alarm on Saturday makes me a little crazy. I guess I should just be thankful that she was riding with her friend and mom - the camp was near Lapeer. I didn't pick her back up until 7pm. I spent the time in between cleaning the house and riding around on the ridiculously expensive mountain bike that my husband bought for me. My butt is all bruised up from that! Biking has never been my love, but I do these things so he'll walk with me (my love).
Sunday Rebecca and I had to rush out the door to drive to Warren for a bridal shower. She loved it - even though she got a little bored during all the present opening. My little girl is lucky - she won the centerpiece in the middle of the table which was a beautiful planter with purple impatiens in it. It looks lovely on my porch :)
One other thing with the girl - and this is where she earns the "pea" label I've given her. She has just recently, in the last couple of weeks, developed a problem with sleeping. It goes like this: I put her in bed at her normal time. She complains like all kids do that she isn't tired, but usually she falls asleep within a half hour. But lately, instead of falling asleep, she lays there for about a half hour and then starts bawling her head off. We go up, comfort her, tell her to go to sleep, put on some music and go back downstairs. That cycle happens one or two more times and then when we go to bed it really starts. She will be knocking on our door every hour on the hour for the rest of night. Everytime it's for a different reason- she's thirsty, she's scared, she's hot, she's cold. It's very frustrating. We don't let her in our bed and we just keep putting her back in her bed, but I'm torn between wondering if she is really having a problem or if she is manipulating us. Being that she isn't mine, I second guess myself all over the place. Should I be sympathetic to her insomnia, or should I scold her and tell her butt to stay in bed? Should I let her stay up later? Does she need more exercise? Every night this has happened, she has been very active during the day. Anyone have any ideas or advice? I know some of you are seasoned mothers....
Sunday Rebecca and I had to rush out the door to drive to Warren for a bridal shower. She loved it - even though she got a little bored during all the present opening. My little girl is lucky - she won the centerpiece in the middle of the table which was a beautiful planter with purple impatiens in it. It looks lovely on my porch :)
One other thing with the girl - and this is where she earns the "pea" label I've given her. She has just recently, in the last couple of weeks, developed a problem with sleeping. It goes like this: I put her in bed at her normal time. She complains like all kids do that she isn't tired, but usually she falls asleep within a half hour. But lately, instead of falling asleep, she lays there for about a half hour and then starts bawling her head off. We go up, comfort her, tell her to go to sleep, put on some music and go back downstairs. That cycle happens one or two more times and then when we go to bed it really starts. She will be knocking on our door every hour on the hour for the rest of night. Everytime it's for a different reason- she's thirsty, she's scared, she's hot, she's cold. It's very frustrating. We don't let her in our bed and we just keep putting her back in her bed, but I'm torn between wondering if she is really having a problem or if she is manipulating us. Being that she isn't mine, I second guess myself all over the place. Should I be sympathetic to her insomnia, or should I scold her and tell her butt to stay in bed? Should I let her stay up later? Does she need more exercise? Every night this has happened, she has been very active during the day. Anyone have any ideas or advice? I know some of you are seasoned mothers....
Wednesday, April 25, 2007
I love my family
As most of you know, I got married last June to the man of my dreams and went, in the span of a 30 minute ceremony, from being a single woman living alone in an adorable little condo with one cat, to a wife, stepmother, and daughter-in-law living in a crowded (but still adorably decorated) little condo with a husband, two kids and a cat. We picked up puppy the Monday following our Saturday wedding. Then in August we bought a house and in one weekend moved out of the condo into the house and my mother-in-law out of her apartment and into the condo. (It's a wonderful time to be living in Michigan) The kids started school the following Tuesday and I was launched into the world of lunch money, science projects, oh my gosh I forgot my gym shoes, missed the bus, and my favorite jeans were in a crumpled mess under the bed and you didn't wash them! Not to mention I'm still working 50 hours a week. So, those days I come home and the kitchen table is covered in school papers, someone used up all the toilet paper and didn't replace it, and the boy has eaten me out of house and home, I have to remind myself of how lonely it got before these little peas came into my life. They most certainly have made me lose sleep, they've made me cry, they've made me very angry. But, they've also made me laugh, taught me, entertained me and most of all, they've made me fall in love with them.
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