Budget.
This is generally when people flinch and suck air through their teeth, practicaly hissing and turning away in a distasteful manner. As if to shake it off. At least that's how I reacted when Husband dropped the B word on me a few months ago. There's an undeniable stigma attached to the B word. Not only because finances are something of such a deeply personal nature that it verges on taboo to discuss, but also because the word itself almost carries a negative connotation. BUDGET. Blech.
For me, it conjured up visions of raggedy children with dirt smudged cheeks, and a doggedly tired husband who doles out an allowance to old wifey at the end of the day- you know, for toilet paper and milk and terribly boring yet necessary things of that nature. That's awful, I know. But its really what hovers in the back of my mind upon mention of the B word. Or did, rather.
But I suppose a budget is whatever you make it. And its whatever you make OF it, if you get right down to brass tacks. It's taken me a few months but Im actually making freinds with our budget. Playing nice. Almost even embracing it. In fact, now that we have "budgeted" our lives, I daresay we may never turn back! The bit I've found pleasantly surprising is the freedom in a budget. There are no guilty purchases, no chunks of money "slipping through the cracks" so to speak, with no guess as to where it wound up or what it went towards. Which,(sidetrip warning!) now that I think about it, is probably why I have grown to enjoy budgeting. If for no other reason than the organizational element! Its all there, laid out and compartmentalized. And if there's one thing that I thrive on, its being neat and tidy. Sounds pretty lame, huh? But as one of my girlfriends once told me "Ya know what?! I like the fact that your face blushes and that I could eat off of your kitchen floor!". We are who we are, yes? No sense fussing over the things that will never change.- But back to the B word. Where were we? Oh yes, the freedom! I rather enjoy it! If I know we have set aside X amount of money for groceries, bills, dining out, clothes shopping, birthday presents, etc etc etc- its a more tranquil feeling when I throw down the card or swipe it through the machine at the end of a transaction. I can swipe away with total peace of mind. Ha, in your face, budget!
At the same token, I have found it to be tricky at times. I can't lie. It was an adjustment. Husband and I sat down at the beginning of the year and set some goals. Some lofty, some smaller scale. We decided that it was time to get proactive and intentional about our finances- particularly saving. Maybe it comes with the territory when you're married to a financial advisor, but I have to say, Husband was right. We were spending money where sometimes we shouldnt. Not in a frivolous way, but more of a ...neglectful (for lack of a better word) way? We just werent always paying attention. Ok FINE. Mostly me.
And time is sort of a relentless buggar, so month after month passes without much notice and its easy not to reach our financial goals. Whatever they may be. Save. Pay off debts. Buy a home. Put away for the kids. Save more. LOL.My list could be a mile long. There never seems to be a shortage of uses for money, right? Just a shortage OF it sometimes.
As I said, it has been an adjustment, but surprisingly, not a hard one. I have actually gotten much more cost-effective in my grocery shopping. I FINALLY starting making some sort of a meal plan for the week before I went to the grocery store, which I never used to do. I'd just mosey along the aisles and, with a basic knowledge of my usual necessities, I'd pretty much grab whatever struck my fancy. This usually resulted in a pantry stocked with 27 cans of olives (not that you can ever have too many black olives if you ask me though), 10 jars of marinara, innumerable amounts of chicken broth and white wine for cooking, enough pasta in every shape to feed a small army, and an odd assortment of ethnic foods "just in case Im in the mood for thai". Yet somehow if I was looking for garbanzo beans or chili paste or something more specific I never seemed to have it. Being armed with a plan has not only cleaned up my pantry, but taken the panic out of the daily decision of what to make for dinner.
Like I said, a budget really is whatever you make it. Its personalized. Every family has different needs, goals, and spending habits. Our has been a little different each month because of holidays, moves, trips, and the like. We still eat out and shop(although not as much as I used to) and go to the movies and do fun stuff with the kids. We have made small sacrifices (i.e. gym membership. Awe, shucks!) and changed some habits, but we have also lived life normally and still had fun and not felt deprived or stifled by our budget. More importantly, we have made strides in meeting our goals. We have saved! Next stop, dream house? How's that for lofty? :)
Cheers to the B word.
Friday, April 29, 2011
Monday, April 25, 2011
For Realsies
Well, there's nothing like a little incentive to get a lady dragging her butt out of bed at the ungodly hour of 5:45 am to sweat and pseudo-curse her way through another one of Tony Horton's stupid dumb P90X workouts. And by "stupid dumb" I mean "effective and necessary". It works. It does work. But oh, I hate it. I REALLY hate it the first week. By week 3 I've usually found my stride and actually look forward to my workouts as a little golden nugget of alone time. Ah, the life of a mom, yes? Always mutlitasking. As if its not a complete oxymoron to count the 1.25 hours I spend leaving blood, sweat, and tears on my living room floor (ok fine, not blood) as my sacred "peace and quiet" time as well, then I dont know what is.
But its the way it goes. I have tried doing the workouts at different points in the day, all to no avail. Both of my children find it much too fascinating to watch me crucify myself trying to keep up with these...these FREAKS OF NATURE on the dvd's, to mind their own business. Bigger One tries to do it with me (and corrects my form more than I'd prefer) while Littler One sits on me or throws his football at my face while I try to do sit ups. They are all innocence and good intentions, but needless to say, there are a lot of distractions and not a lot of floor space. So that leaves me with naptime. The only problem there, is that Bigger One's naps have gotten shorter and shorter and are nigh on extinction these days. Im trying to milk one more year out of naptime. Plus I like to grab that 30-45 minutes to read a little of my favorite book (Outlander series, since you ask. Read it. Do it. Think danger+history+love+war+sex+ suspence+ James Fraser. Nuff said) Ah, but I digress. Oh yes. Or I use that time to start cooking dinner, or to pick up, or to just sit in a quiet room all by myself. Which is lovely to do every once in a while.
So there have been bumps in the road. I have missed workouts, or abandoned workouts halfway through because there is just too much going on in the house. I have been sick again and missed two whole weeks altogether.I have been stressed. And to add insult to injury, I tend to gain weight when I am stressed out. I have eaten a lot of....well...everything. I am a person to loves good food. I love to cook it and I love to eat it. I am the type who works out to eat. Its not the sort of thing you're supposed to admit, but its true. If I work out, I can ALMOST eat whatever I want. Within reason. If I dont work out, well...there's always that trusty old 5-7 (or in this case more) pounds that likes to take up residence on my hindquarters.
Its time to call a spade, a spade. I let the ball drop. Blurg. I've been half-assing my workouts and making bad food choices- a combo I can no longer get away with. So this morning I decided it was time to scare myself straight on the scale. I stepped on (always before breakfast and naked, mind. As if that really helps), and gingerly opened one eye with trepidation to look down at the number. And then I jumped off of it like it was covered in burning coals. Step back on. Try again. Its that same obnoxious number. "WHAT THE WHAT?! How did this happen so fast?" Its bad, people. Its real bad. Its worse than I thought. I have gained a whopping ten pounds. This sucks. All the nice people in the world will say that muscle weighs more than fat and working out could account for that. I say- hogwash. I know its not all muscle. Its not ten pounds of new, sinewy, lean muscle. Its maybe 4 pounds of muscle (if Im being generous. And I am.) and 6 pounds of fat. That's like a sack of potatoes! The number on the scale this morning (of which we will never speak of) was a proverbial smack in the face. A wake up call. Consider me scared straight.
I dont even normally write about this kind of stuff because I generally subscribe to the idea that most people dont really care, and even if they do, they maybe dont want to hear about it- it tends to sound obnoxious. And I DEFINITELY dont know why I only write about it when Im sucking at it. But for the sake of comraderie, the intent of getting back on track, and in the hopes of a little encouragement, Im calling myself out on the carpet. Literally.
I mentioned incentive earlier. I do have that! In four months, I will be relaxing on the beach in the Bahamas with Husband, and I want to FEEL GOOD. Not chubby. So if it means I have to stock up on things like quinoa, fruit & veggies, egg whites, those silly little paper thin sandwich "rolls" (Pshaw! Rolls. Hardly.) and enough salad to choke a horse, so be it. If I have to take it easy on the pasta for a month or two I could maybe even agree to that. I could EVEN workout early in the morning or late at night. Because its worth it to feel fit. As I've said before (here), it just does something for your mojo. I know what it feels like to be happy and comfortable in my own skin, and I know what it feels like to be pitifully off my game. I much prefer happy and comfortable. So Im not going to make any outlandish proclamations about losing all ten pounds in five minutes. Im not going to cut corners. Im just going to get right back on track. And Im really going to try to stay positive and not assume its a drag to eat healthy. So if any of you have any fabulous healthy recipes, do share. Here goes. For realsies.
But its the way it goes. I have tried doing the workouts at different points in the day, all to no avail. Both of my children find it much too fascinating to watch me crucify myself trying to keep up with these...these FREAKS OF NATURE on the dvd's, to mind their own business. Bigger One tries to do it with me (and corrects my form more than I'd prefer) while Littler One sits on me or throws his football at my face while I try to do sit ups. They are all innocence and good intentions, but needless to say, there are a lot of distractions and not a lot of floor space. So that leaves me with naptime. The only problem there, is that Bigger One's naps have gotten shorter and shorter and are nigh on extinction these days. Im trying to milk one more year out of naptime. Plus I like to grab that 30-45 minutes to read a little of my favorite book (Outlander series, since you ask. Read it. Do it. Think danger+history+love+war+sex+ suspence+ James Fraser. Nuff said) Ah, but I digress. Oh yes. Or I use that time to start cooking dinner, or to pick up, or to just sit in a quiet room all by myself. Which is lovely to do every once in a while.
So there have been bumps in the road. I have missed workouts, or abandoned workouts halfway through because there is just too much going on in the house. I have been sick again and missed two whole weeks altogether.I have been stressed. And to add insult to injury, I tend to gain weight when I am stressed out. I have eaten a lot of....well...everything. I am a person to loves good food. I love to cook it and I love to eat it. I am the type who works out to eat. Its not the sort of thing you're supposed to admit, but its true. If I work out, I can ALMOST eat whatever I want. Within reason. If I dont work out, well...there's always that trusty old 5-7 (or in this case more) pounds that likes to take up residence on my hindquarters.
Its time to call a spade, a spade. I let the ball drop. Blurg. I've been half-assing my workouts and making bad food choices- a combo I can no longer get away with. So this morning I decided it was time to scare myself straight on the scale. I stepped on (always before breakfast and naked, mind. As if that really helps), and gingerly opened one eye with trepidation to look down at the number. And then I jumped off of it like it was covered in burning coals. Step back on. Try again. Its that same obnoxious number. "WHAT THE WHAT?! How did this happen so fast?" Its bad, people. Its real bad. Its worse than I thought. I have gained a whopping ten pounds. This sucks. All the nice people in the world will say that muscle weighs more than fat and working out could account for that. I say- hogwash. I know its not all muscle. Its not ten pounds of new, sinewy, lean muscle. Its maybe 4 pounds of muscle (if Im being generous. And I am.) and 6 pounds of fat. That's like a sack of potatoes! The number on the scale this morning (of which we will never speak of) was a proverbial smack in the face. A wake up call. Consider me scared straight.
I dont even normally write about this kind of stuff because I generally subscribe to the idea that most people dont really care, and even if they do, they maybe dont want to hear about it- it tends to sound obnoxious. And I DEFINITELY dont know why I only write about it when Im sucking at it. But for the sake of comraderie, the intent of getting back on track, and in the hopes of a little encouragement, Im calling myself out on the carpet. Literally.
I mentioned incentive earlier. I do have that! In four months, I will be relaxing on the beach in the Bahamas with Husband, and I want to FEEL GOOD. Not chubby. So if it means I have to stock up on things like quinoa, fruit & veggies, egg whites, those silly little paper thin sandwich "rolls" (Pshaw! Rolls. Hardly.) and enough salad to choke a horse, so be it. If I have to take it easy on the pasta for a month or two I could maybe even agree to that. I could EVEN workout early in the morning or late at night. Because its worth it to feel fit. As I've said before (here), it just does something for your mojo. I know what it feels like to be happy and comfortable in my own skin, and I know what it feels like to be pitifully off my game. I much prefer happy and comfortable. So Im not going to make any outlandish proclamations about losing all ten pounds in five minutes. Im not going to cut corners. Im just going to get right back on track. And Im really going to try to stay positive and not assume its a drag to eat healthy. So if any of you have any fabulous healthy recipes, do share. Here goes. For realsies.
Friday, April 15, 2011
Ahh Yeeeah
If my life were a movie, this would be the part where the music reaches a crescendo, accompanied by a joyous slow-mo reel. Naturally, there's a flash mob as well, along with confetti and a small marching band playing Journey's 'Dont Stop Believing'. (Dontcha just love Journey?!)
We got it! We got our trip! Cliffhanger, Shmiffhanger. In the end, justice was served up on a platter, and under the silver lid was two tickets to the Bahamas. Me likey. For a second I was bummed that we were not able to sign up in time for any of the Europe trips. They filled up first, naturally. But then I realized that not knowing which vacation to choose is a luxury problem and that it's totally bratty to be anything less than thrilled. Which I genuinely am. We get to go to Paradise Island, Bahamas! An all expense paid, child-free- anniversary trip to the Bahamas! How rad is THAT? "Paradise Island" sounds like it will suit me quite nicely.
We just nailed it down today and Im still semi- beside myself. We just dont DO this kind of thing normally. Other than the last trip we earned last year, Husband and I hadnt been a proper vacation since our honeymoon 8 years ago. And while it gives me a stomach ache to leave my kids for a whole week, it was absolutely blissful. It was one of those things where you dont know how badly you need to relax until you actually do fully relax. I THOUGHT I was relaxed on the first day. But then by the second day I quit tensing every time I heard a kid whining or needing something because I remembered that it wasnt MY kid. Then by the third day I started laughing and really enjoying myself. And somewhere around the 4th day Husband and I remembered that THIS was what it feels like to really connect and enjoy each other's company with no distractions.
Maybe this time it wont take me 3 whole days to decompress. Im still new to this vacation business, after all. August is still a few months away but that's okay. Its good to have something to look forward to. Now about dusting off my bikinis....Blurg. Not ready for that yet. Have you seen those commercials for the pajama jeans? (Im laughing really hard right now, please tell me you all have seen that commercial?) Maybe they make bikini jeans. LOL. Nah, bad plan. I have two words for how I would look in that contraption: STUFFED SAUSAGE. Maybe a few more months is a good thing...
We got it! We got our trip! Cliffhanger, Shmiffhanger. In the end, justice was served up on a platter, and under the silver lid was two tickets to the Bahamas. Me likey. For a second I was bummed that we were not able to sign up in time for any of the Europe trips. They filled up first, naturally. But then I realized that not knowing which vacation to choose is a luxury problem and that it's totally bratty to be anything less than thrilled. Which I genuinely am. We get to go to Paradise Island, Bahamas! An all expense paid, child-free- anniversary trip to the Bahamas! How rad is THAT? "Paradise Island" sounds like it will suit me quite nicely.
We just nailed it down today and Im still semi- beside myself. We just dont DO this kind of thing normally. Other than the last trip we earned last year, Husband and I hadnt been a proper vacation since our honeymoon 8 years ago. And while it gives me a stomach ache to leave my kids for a whole week, it was absolutely blissful. It was one of those things where you dont know how badly you need to relax until you actually do fully relax. I THOUGHT I was relaxed on the first day. But then by the second day I quit tensing every time I heard a kid whining or needing something because I remembered that it wasnt MY kid. Then by the third day I started laughing and really enjoying myself. And somewhere around the 4th day Husband and I remembered that THIS was what it feels like to really connect and enjoy each other's company with no distractions.
Maybe this time it wont take me 3 whole days to decompress. Im still new to this vacation business, after all. August is still a few months away but that's okay. Its good to have something to look forward to. Now about dusting off my bikinis....Blurg. Not ready for that yet. Have you seen those commercials for the pajama jeans? (Im laughing really hard right now, please tell me you all have seen that commercial?) Maybe they make bikini jeans. LOL. Nah, bad plan. I have two words for how I would look in that contraption: STUFFED SAUSAGE. Maybe a few more months is a good thing...
Monday, March 28, 2011
I Think Seth and Amy Put it Best When They Said "REALLY?!"
Its like we went from feeling like Rocky at the top of the stairs to....to...Gollum without the ring. We were THIS close. Even closer than THIS close. We had it! We had it in the bag! I could almost see the cobblestone streets of Italy, almost smell the breeze over the riviera, almost taste all the wine and chocolate. I dont know what happened!
It was such a cliffhanger to begin with. All month, waiting on baited breath to see if we'd qualify for a vacation. After all, it is no small thing, and not easy to do. Its actually part of the compensation for Husband's job. (Turns out being a desk jockey as a financial advisor really does have its perks!) Every six months you have an opportunity to qualify for an all expense paid vacation. Its all rather complicated and boring, but it has to do with $ earned, and categories met. (You have to fill 4 out of 8 categories). If you qualify, you get to choose out of a booklet of about 20 or so trips. Amazing trips. All over the world! Ireland, Spain, Italy, Paris, Japan, Carribean, Egypt,Bora Bora, New Zealand, cruises, and then there are always a few random lame (by comparison anyways. No vacation is lame in my eyes) trips to like Tuscon, or Boston, or Napa Valley. I suppose some people really would choose that, but personally, I see no contest. We've earned one trip before (Riviera Maya), and it was glorious. (On hectic days, I still close my eyes and pretend to be back on the white bed on the beach. It almost works. Almost.)
Anyway, March was our last qualifying month for this section of trips, and the odds were stacked against us. We needed a big amount of $ earned in a short amount of time, as well as missing useful days in the office to travel for corporate stuff in Az. And yes, Im sticking with the phrase "corporate stuff". Trust me, its all really boring. I will risk sounding like an ignoramous to spare you the details. Your welcome. It was quite the cliffhanger all month, but he did it! Husband, in all his studliness and perserverance, pulled out all the stops, and met all the requirements to earn a trip. By the hair of his chinny chin chin, too. It was the last possible day of the last possible month that he qualified. Just had to make sure all the I's were dotted and the T's were crossed. Ah. There. Right there. So that's what it'll be then? A tiny, minor, hardly noticeable detail that would derail our chances? YES. Blurg does not even begin to put it into words. Double Blurg doesnt even cover it. As (bad) luck would have it, there was some small snaffoo, and a wrong box was checked, a small computer glitch happened, $ was accredited to the wrong category, some teeny tiny error that just HAPPENED, as those things do happen. So a category that we, in reality, exceeded by hundreds of dollars, appeared to fall short by 70 dollars. SEVENTY dollars. Out of thousands. I feel like Im in a "REALLY?!" by Seth and Amy sketch! (Meyers and Poehler. But I assume that's understood?) "REALLY?! Seventy dollars? Out of thousands? REALLY?!"
But, there is still a shred of hope. The selling month is over, but the ship has not yet left the docks. The mistake that was made was not quite Husband's, and not quite corporate's, but mostly just one of those things that slips through the cracks. These things are somewhat common as it turns out, and there is a board that reviews these exact kind of situations and can approve or deny vacations as they see fit. Only problem is that the board doesnt meet until a month from now, and the trips are all filled on a first-come/ first-serve basis. Those who qualify earliest, get to pick their trip first and so on down the line. The last group of qualifiers pick their trip in two weeks. So maybe we will still get a vacation. And MAYBE there will still be some cool destinations available. And MAYBE, we wont get stuck with Tuscon or Huntington Beach or worse, nothing at all.
Ah, it is what it is, yes? There are always more trips. I am still proud of all of Husbands valiant and impressive efforts. He killed it last month! Whatever will be, will be, as they say. Italy will always be there, right? To borrow a quote from an earlier post (Vay. Cay. Shun.), "Its good to have something to look forward to. But its also good, even when you dont, to realize your life is still blessed."
And my life is still good. Italy, or no.
Fingers crossed!
It was such a cliffhanger to begin with. All month, waiting on baited breath to see if we'd qualify for a vacation. After all, it is no small thing, and not easy to do. Its actually part of the compensation for Husband's job. (Turns out being a desk jockey as a financial advisor really does have its perks!) Every six months you have an opportunity to qualify for an all expense paid vacation. Its all rather complicated and boring, but it has to do with $ earned, and categories met. (You have to fill 4 out of 8 categories). If you qualify, you get to choose out of a booklet of about 20 or so trips. Amazing trips. All over the world! Ireland, Spain, Italy, Paris, Japan, Carribean, Egypt,Bora Bora, New Zealand, cruises, and then there are always a few random lame (by comparison anyways. No vacation is lame in my eyes) trips to like Tuscon, or Boston, or Napa Valley. I suppose some people really would choose that, but personally, I see no contest. We've earned one trip before (Riviera Maya), and it was glorious. (On hectic days, I still close my eyes and pretend to be back on the white bed on the beach. It almost works. Almost.)
Anyway, March was our last qualifying month for this section of trips, and the odds were stacked against us. We needed a big amount of $ earned in a short amount of time, as well as missing useful days in the office to travel for corporate stuff in Az. And yes, Im sticking with the phrase "corporate stuff". Trust me, its all really boring. I will risk sounding like an ignoramous to spare you the details. Your welcome. It was quite the cliffhanger all month, but he did it! Husband, in all his studliness and perserverance, pulled out all the stops, and met all the requirements to earn a trip. By the hair of his chinny chin chin, too. It was the last possible day of the last possible month that he qualified. Just had to make sure all the I's were dotted and the T's were crossed. Ah. There. Right there. So that's what it'll be then? A tiny, minor, hardly noticeable detail that would derail our chances? YES. Blurg does not even begin to put it into words. Double Blurg doesnt even cover it. As (bad) luck would have it, there was some small snaffoo, and a wrong box was checked, a small computer glitch happened, $ was accredited to the wrong category, some teeny tiny error that just HAPPENED, as those things do happen. So a category that we, in reality, exceeded by hundreds of dollars, appeared to fall short by 70 dollars. SEVENTY dollars. Out of thousands. I feel like Im in a "REALLY?!" by Seth and Amy sketch! (Meyers and Poehler. But I assume that's understood?) "REALLY?! Seventy dollars? Out of thousands? REALLY?!"
But, there is still a shred of hope. The selling month is over, but the ship has not yet left the docks. The mistake that was made was not quite Husband's, and not quite corporate's, but mostly just one of those things that slips through the cracks. These things are somewhat common as it turns out, and there is a board that reviews these exact kind of situations and can approve or deny vacations as they see fit. Only problem is that the board doesnt meet until a month from now, and the trips are all filled on a first-come/ first-serve basis. Those who qualify earliest, get to pick their trip first and so on down the line. The last group of qualifiers pick their trip in two weeks. So maybe we will still get a vacation. And MAYBE there will still be some cool destinations available. And MAYBE, we wont get stuck with Tuscon or Huntington Beach or worse, nothing at all.
Ah, it is what it is, yes? There are always more trips. I am still proud of all of Husbands valiant and impressive efforts. He killed it last month! Whatever will be, will be, as they say. Italy will always be there, right? To borrow a quote from an earlier post (Vay. Cay. Shun.), "Its good to have something to look forward to. But its also good, even when you dont, to realize your life is still blessed."
And my life is still good. Italy, or no.
Fingers crossed!
Saturday, March 26, 2011
A Little Something I Like to Call "Terrific Lady Day"
Stop the presses. Husband has chosen (of his own free will) to forego playing basketball with the guys today and go shopping with me. Lets pause here for a minute and appreciate the gravity of that statement. This is no small sacrifice for him, as he was just saying to me last week how he was craving some basketball time with the boys. AND considering that its shopping he's agreed to. As in, walking around a mall, looking at clothes, trying things on- for like, HOURS. This has not happened since the early days. The dating and early-marriage days when he would happily oblige my desires to mosey around a mall or department store. Then it slowly changed from happily obliging me to humoring me every so often by tagging along. And then it ultimately graduated to "woman, have you lost your mind?". (He doesnt actually refer to me as "woman", but you get my drift).
And its okay, really. Its not his cup of tea. He'd rather be fishing or hunting or playing golf or doing something active out in nature. And we all know being active isnt exactly MY cup of tea. So for 8 years we've done what all married couples do, and balanced (or tried to balance) the usual give and take that's required in a marriage. Sometimes trading off doing the things we actually enjoy for doing the things every now and again that really, if we're honest, would make us prefer to stick dull toothpicks in our eyes, but we do them regardless because it makes the other person happy. Not that we dont enjoy some of the same things- we do, but we dont do everything together. I mean, lets all be real here. Ya gotta know when to cut and run. Which for me, is usually when he goes fishing. I tried it a few times. My dad had a boat growing up and that suited me fine. I could sit and enjoy th scenery, and they could fish. That I can enjoy. Its the standing-on-the-riverbank business I dont care for. I think the last time I tagged along was about 5 years ago when I was pregnant with our daughter. Husband took me to some rocky cliff over the river, perched me on about 1 square foot of rock space that he deemed "perfectly safe", where I teetered for the next hour in a chair that, lets all face it, was no match for my heaving pregnant self. It didnt collapse, but I doubt that flimsy little camping chair has ever worked so hard. And that's where I sat working up a sweat and slowly cooking like a dumpling in the sun for the next hour and a half. But it made him happy.
I dont know what made him decide to go with me today, but Im not going to ask any questions. Maybe all the stars and planets aligned, or maybe he's undergone some fundamental change and he actually likes shopping now...or maybe he's suffered some major blow to the head. All I know is that aside from annual holiday shopping, this only happens about once every couple of years and so I intend to enjoy it thoroughly. A whole day of leisurely shopping with Husband, maybe lunch, or break it up a little with a movie- After all, I AM human, I DO have a soul, and dont intend on torchuring him all the live long day. He's even promised not to drop the usual ten glum paces behind me (a strange phenomenon that happens upon walking into any store regardless of its nature) pouting the whole time! Its looking up ladies. Long live Terrific Lady Day!
And its okay, really. Its not his cup of tea. He'd rather be fishing or hunting or playing golf or doing something active out in nature. And we all know being active isnt exactly MY cup of tea. So for 8 years we've done what all married couples do, and balanced (or tried to balance) the usual give and take that's required in a marriage. Sometimes trading off doing the things we actually enjoy for doing the things every now and again that really, if we're honest, would make us prefer to stick dull toothpicks in our eyes, but we do them regardless because it makes the other person happy. Not that we dont enjoy some of the same things- we do, but we dont do everything together. I mean, lets all be real here. Ya gotta know when to cut and run. Which for me, is usually when he goes fishing. I tried it a few times. My dad had a boat growing up and that suited me fine. I could sit and enjoy th scenery, and they could fish. That I can enjoy. Its the standing-on-the-riverbank business I dont care for. I think the last time I tagged along was about 5 years ago when I was pregnant with our daughter. Husband took me to some rocky cliff over the river, perched me on about 1 square foot of rock space that he deemed "perfectly safe", where I teetered for the next hour in a chair that, lets all face it, was no match for my heaving pregnant self. It didnt collapse, but I doubt that flimsy little camping chair has ever worked so hard. And that's where I sat working up a sweat and slowly cooking like a dumpling in the sun for the next hour and a half. But it made him happy.
I dont know what made him decide to go with me today, but Im not going to ask any questions. Maybe all the stars and planets aligned, or maybe he's undergone some fundamental change and he actually likes shopping now...or maybe he's suffered some major blow to the head. All I know is that aside from annual holiday shopping, this only happens about once every couple of years and so I intend to enjoy it thoroughly. A whole day of leisurely shopping with Husband, maybe lunch, or break it up a little with a movie- After all, I AM human, I DO have a soul, and dont intend on torchuring him all the live long day. He's even promised not to drop the usual ten glum paces behind me (a strange phenomenon that happens upon walking into any store regardless of its nature) pouting the whole time! Its looking up ladies. Long live Terrific Lady Day!
Wednesday, March 23, 2011
"We've Got a Bleeder!"
Its my ears. Are they bleeding? Is there actual blood dripping out of them yet? The problem is that Husband has been gone for three days and so I've suffered the brunt of it alone. All alone. The mind-numbing barrage of words. The sheer relentlessnes of the rapid-fire questions, one after another after another with hardly a pause for breath, seering into my brain like intruding bullets.
The car is the hardest. Its like you're trapped. Yesterday I was in the car with the kids for about 2 hours altogether. 7 minutes of that time was quiet. I am not exaggerating. I've tried turning on music but that doesnt work. My ipod is no match for her. She just talks over it.
"Do I have to take a nap when I get home?" "If I do have to take a nap, can I watch a half of a cartoon first?" "Can you put Jaxon asleep before me?" "Why do I have to take a nap?" "Can I sleep on my princess couch instead of my bed?" "Why not?" "Im hungry, I think I need a snack first" "Can I have a chococlate granola bar?" "Why not?!" "Is it healthy?" "If I dont have a granola bar, what can I have?" "Can I have gum?" "Are coyotes mean?" "Do they bite?" "I think bears and coyotes and lions and sharks and turkeys are all mean and they bite but dogs and cats are nice." (2 seconds to catch breath) "Actually some dogs and cats are not nice?" "We always be careful about dogs and cats that we dont know because they might be mean." "How do you know if they're mean?" "Remember Grannie Annie's cat?" "What was his name?" "I fed him a treat and he was nice." "But Aunt Cyndee's cat was not nice. Rango. No, wait, Ringo."(Incidentally Aunt Cyndee does not have a cat named Ringo or Rango. Im sure someone we know does. Aunt Cyndee has a dog. Named Blue. But that's all besides the point- much like her whole train of thought) "So mommy, how is your day?" "Where are we going?" "I dont think you're going the right way." "Do we need gas?" "Can a car pop if you put too much gas in it?" "What if the guy just kept putting more and more and more gas in and the whole car literry (literally) just popped?" "Has that ever happened to you when you were little mom?" "Was I in your tummy when I was 2?" "Remember when I was a baby and I used to eat baby food?" "Remember that?" (half a second to catch breath) "Do pandas live in China or Africa?" "Do the kids in Africa not even have new toys mommy?" "When you were little did you go to the North Pole?" "Do ocutopus' sting?"
All of that literally takes only about 75 seconds for her to say. I can hardly keep up. While she is just finding her rythm, Im starting to go crosseyed! I have learned to pick and choose my answers carefully because often one simple answer leads into 79 more questions, about half of which I will have a good answer for.
*Pause*
...I get it....I am not the first person to ever have a child that talks them into a tailspin. Am I complaining? No, not really. I can appreciate it for what it is and see the cuteness factor in it. I suppose I find it to be equal parts endearing and exasperating. And Im glad I have a daughter with an ever-inquisitive, precocious mind. Really. But SOME DAYS, the dull ache behind my eyes starts even before I've brushed my teeth in the morning. Do I wish she was anything other than who she is? No, of course not. Do I wish I had more patience? More resiliance? More answers? YES! It makes me chuckle, because she's always been this way. She was talking well before she was 1, and talking WELL by the time she was 2. In fact, even in the delivery room and during our whole stay in the hospital there was no peace, no quiet. Spitfire from birth. Ah, I suppose its only fitting. In this very blog (Dont Fight The Funk post) I have said that I, myself, often worry that I've said too much. That Im a blurter.That I will never be one of those peripheral people who quietly take it all in and never let it out. I did say all that, didnt I. Oh dear.
So it's a fine line I walk every day (and sometimes zigzag back and forth across)- trying to cultivate her little mind, and engage her in coversation, trying to make her feel heard and not disregarded. All the while trying to reign it in and guide it, otherwise, whatever the conversation, she's going to take that bull by the horns and steer it in whatever direction she fancies! Knowing when to really listen and when to shoosh (because lets all be real here, shooshing is fully necessary sometimes) Its like she's a derailed caboose and we have to keep circling back around and re-attaching her to the train of thought. (pun intended) (And by the way, when is pun ever NOT intended? Whenever people say "no pun intended" there most definitely IS almost always "pun intended")
We're trying to teach her not to interrupt, or to talk over people. Thats a big one we're working on at the moment. She's figured out that if she just talks louder that she can still get it all out regardless of whomever else might be attempting to get a word in edgewise. Moment of Honesty?: I keep catching myself getting in these climactic conversations with her where she is talking louder, then Im talking louder trying to be heard, then she's a notch higher trying to be heard, and then next thing I know Im practically shrieking "PLEASE TALK QUIETER OR YOU'RE GOING TO WAKE UP THE BABY!"...Right. Oops. I forgot to mention aside from the amount of talking, she has one volume. And its loud.
Then I have one of those smacking-your-palm-to-your-forehead moments, and remember that I am the boss. This small little person is 4 and I am 29. And granted, she may be a force to be reckoned with, but I do not need to get sucked into a 20 minute volley of words that leaves me in frenzied state! She's good at it too, because its not usually direct defiance, or even ornoriness in general, but more like a subtle sidestepping of the point (my point). She is quite old enough to grasp the concept of being quiet when need be. Of listening to me when I am talking. Of simply doing what I ask of her without voicing and re-voicing multiple opinions about it. Ah, getting tricky now, isnt it? Balancing the requirement of obedience and respect (WITH a good attitude! minor yet huge clause), while nurturing and guiding, AND teaching? What is the best way to let them be who they are and yet mold them into what they should be?- (civilized and polite human beings) Because really, isnt that basically our whole job as parents? I do think a kid is allowed to be a kid- and sometimes that means they are loud, and sometimes they cause a ruckus, and sometimes they have lots of questions. And that's okay!
But My Lanta! What's a lady gotta do to get some peace and quiet?
The car is the hardest. Its like you're trapped. Yesterday I was in the car with the kids for about 2 hours altogether. 7 minutes of that time was quiet. I am not exaggerating. I've tried turning on music but that doesnt work. My ipod is no match for her. She just talks over it.
"Do I have to take a nap when I get home?" "If I do have to take a nap, can I watch a half of a cartoon first?" "Can you put Jaxon asleep before me?" "Why do I have to take a nap?" "Can I sleep on my princess couch instead of my bed?" "Why not?" "Im hungry, I think I need a snack first" "Can I have a chococlate granola bar?" "Why not?!" "Is it healthy?" "If I dont have a granola bar, what can I have?" "Can I have gum?" "Are coyotes mean?" "Do they bite?" "I think bears and coyotes and lions and sharks and turkeys are all mean and they bite but dogs and cats are nice." (2 seconds to catch breath) "Actually some dogs and cats are not nice?" "We always be careful about dogs and cats that we dont know because they might be mean." "How do you know if they're mean?" "Remember Grannie Annie's cat?" "What was his name?" "I fed him a treat and he was nice." "But Aunt Cyndee's cat was not nice. Rango. No, wait, Ringo."(Incidentally Aunt Cyndee does not have a cat named Ringo or Rango. Im sure someone we know does. Aunt Cyndee has a dog. Named Blue. But that's all besides the point- much like her whole train of thought) "So mommy, how is your day?" "Where are we going?" "I dont think you're going the right way." "Do we need gas?" "Can a car pop if you put too much gas in it?" "What if the guy just kept putting more and more and more gas in and the whole car literry (literally) just popped?" "Has that ever happened to you when you were little mom?" "Was I in your tummy when I was 2?" "Remember when I was a baby and I used to eat baby food?" "Remember that?" (half a second to catch breath) "Do pandas live in China or Africa?" "Do the kids in Africa not even have new toys mommy?" "When you were little did you go to the North Pole?" "Do ocutopus' sting?"
All of that literally takes only about 75 seconds for her to say. I can hardly keep up. While she is just finding her rythm, Im starting to go crosseyed! I have learned to pick and choose my answers carefully because often one simple answer leads into 79 more questions, about half of which I will have a good answer for.
*Pause*
...I get it....I am not the first person to ever have a child that talks them into a tailspin. Am I complaining? No, not really. I can appreciate it for what it is and see the cuteness factor in it. I suppose I find it to be equal parts endearing and exasperating. And Im glad I have a daughter with an ever-inquisitive, precocious mind. Really. But SOME DAYS, the dull ache behind my eyes starts even before I've brushed my teeth in the morning. Do I wish she was anything other than who she is? No, of course not. Do I wish I had more patience? More resiliance? More answers? YES! It makes me chuckle, because she's always been this way. She was talking well before she was 1, and talking WELL by the time she was 2. In fact, even in the delivery room and during our whole stay in the hospital there was no peace, no quiet. Spitfire from birth. Ah, I suppose its only fitting. In this very blog (Dont Fight The Funk post) I have said that I, myself, often worry that I've said too much. That Im a blurter.That I will never be one of those peripheral people who quietly take it all in and never let it out. I did say all that, didnt I. Oh dear.
So it's a fine line I walk every day (and sometimes zigzag back and forth across)- trying to cultivate her little mind, and engage her in coversation, trying to make her feel heard and not disregarded. All the while trying to reign it in and guide it, otherwise, whatever the conversation, she's going to take that bull by the horns and steer it in whatever direction she fancies! Knowing when to really listen and when to shoosh (because lets all be real here, shooshing is fully necessary sometimes) Its like she's a derailed caboose and we have to keep circling back around and re-attaching her to the train of thought. (pun intended) (And by the way, when is pun ever NOT intended? Whenever people say "no pun intended" there most definitely IS almost always "pun intended")
We're trying to teach her not to interrupt, or to talk over people. Thats a big one we're working on at the moment. She's figured out that if she just talks louder that she can still get it all out regardless of whomever else might be attempting to get a word in edgewise. Moment of Honesty?: I keep catching myself getting in these climactic conversations with her where she is talking louder, then Im talking louder trying to be heard, then she's a notch higher trying to be heard, and then next thing I know Im practically shrieking "PLEASE TALK QUIETER OR YOU'RE GOING TO WAKE UP THE BABY!"...Right. Oops. I forgot to mention aside from the amount of talking, she has one volume. And its loud.
Then I have one of those smacking-your-palm-to-your-forehead moments, and remember that I am the boss. This small little person is 4 and I am 29. And granted, she may be a force to be reckoned with, but I do not need to get sucked into a 20 minute volley of words that leaves me in frenzied state! She's good at it too, because its not usually direct defiance, or even ornoriness in general, but more like a subtle sidestepping of the point (my point). She is quite old enough to grasp the concept of being quiet when need be. Of listening to me when I am talking. Of simply doing what I ask of her without voicing and re-voicing multiple opinions about it. Ah, getting tricky now, isnt it? Balancing the requirement of obedience and respect (WITH a good attitude! minor yet huge clause), while nurturing and guiding, AND teaching? What is the best way to let them be who they are and yet mold them into what they should be?- (civilized and polite human beings) Because really, isnt that basically our whole job as parents? I do think a kid is allowed to be a kid- and sometimes that means they are loud, and sometimes they cause a ruckus, and sometimes they have lots of questions. And that's okay!
But My Lanta! What's a lady gotta do to get some peace and quiet?
Thursday, March 10, 2011
I Think Ace Ventura Put it Best When He Said "Find a Happy Place!"
Its all fun and games until one of them starts flinging poo. Oh yes. Welcome to my day. Come join me. Bask with me in the mayhem. "Give in to the power of the tea" if you will. (bonus points for readers who can name that movie). (Actually, double bonus points. Because Name That Movie is my favorite game ever. Second only to "Remember When...")
I think I felt it coming before I even opened my eyes this morning. Trouble. As if the only word I could clearly see forming on the foggy horizon of my brain was already going to be "BLURG". Do you ever wake up so early that you feel nauseous? Like your body is so tired its literally rejecting wakefulness? Happens to me all the time. I think this might be part of why I hate breakfast so much. Its the only time of day you will catch me wishing for sleep over food.
I think I had a bad dream too. I've been reading a lot lately and both the books Im reading melded into one bizarre dream involving a heap of dead wolves with yellow eyes, (shudder), a rugged Scotsman (yes please), and a troubling impression that I was grinding my teeth into gravel inside my own head (I actually do grind my teeth so this wasnt too far off). Suffice it to say, that I had a furrow in my brow before I even made it off of my pillow this morning. Both of my little darlings seemed to wake up on the wrong side of the bed as well, because before breakfast was over, there were two altercations between siblings, one spill, followed by tears, followed by whining, followed by me snapping at my daughter over her highly dramatic display. Dangit. Not even 8:00 yet and I've already lost my cool. Deep breath. Apologize for being snappy, while trying to simultaneously squeeze in a lesson about attitudes of the heart. Only semi succesful in getting point across. She was pretty busy with her Cinnamon Toast Crunch and he just grins blankly at me every time I talk anyways, regardless of what Im saying. (which I secretly love).
And so it went for the next few hours. Rushing to get us all showered, dressed, fed, teeth brushed, hair combed, and out the door.(With no lack of battles over each one of those things) Drop off at school, run errands, pick up from school, try to keep 1 year old happy and quiet as I try to be productive... Fail. Decide its a good idea to bundle up and head outside in the backyard for some good old fashioned fun. Enjoy approximately 4.5 minutes of delight, playing with my children, blowing and popping bubbles until Littler One spills Bigger One's bubbles. While I console Bigger One over the loss of her new bubbles and remind her to be gracious and forgiving with Littler One, and grab a towel to start mopping up the sticky mess, I turn around just in time to see it. Littler One. Holding a poop. My dog's poop. Oh dear God.
After I shrieked, scolded Buster the dog (not that it was his fault. Hey, everybody poops), disinfected, scoured, and scrubbed up my son, called it quits with the bubbles, tried to make dinner amid seventeen interruptions regarding snacks, barbie shoes, a half eaten chapstick, and a completely emptied trash can on my kitchen floor, - after that I decided to give it up. It was one of those days where everything was harder than I thought it should have been. You know those days you have, as a parent, where you honestly get tired of hearing your own voice? I decided to abandon my efforts (however valiant they may be!) to force my day into something it wasnt going to be. So I opened a diet Dr. Pepper, allowed myself one hearty eye-roll before I shooshed the "What the what?!" train of thought I felt forming in the back of my head, had a good chuckle, and acquiesced to the funk. Sometimes ya gotta just let it be. So I took my remaining shreds of peace of mind and my diet Dr. Pepper into my daughters playhouse and let her pretend to be my mommy while Jaxon banged toy pots over my head for 20 minutes. And I daresay that 20 minutes was the highlight of the day for all three of us.
I think I felt it coming before I even opened my eyes this morning. Trouble. As if the only word I could clearly see forming on the foggy horizon of my brain was already going to be "BLURG". Do you ever wake up so early that you feel nauseous? Like your body is so tired its literally rejecting wakefulness? Happens to me all the time. I think this might be part of why I hate breakfast so much. Its the only time of day you will catch me wishing for sleep over food.
I think I had a bad dream too. I've been reading a lot lately and both the books Im reading melded into one bizarre dream involving a heap of dead wolves with yellow eyes, (shudder), a rugged Scotsman (yes please), and a troubling impression that I was grinding my teeth into gravel inside my own head (I actually do grind my teeth so this wasnt too far off). Suffice it to say, that I had a furrow in my brow before I even made it off of my pillow this morning. Both of my little darlings seemed to wake up on the wrong side of the bed as well, because before breakfast was over, there were two altercations between siblings, one spill, followed by tears, followed by whining, followed by me snapping at my daughter over her highly dramatic display. Dangit. Not even 8:00 yet and I've already lost my cool. Deep breath. Apologize for being snappy, while trying to simultaneously squeeze in a lesson about attitudes of the heart. Only semi succesful in getting point across. She was pretty busy with her Cinnamon Toast Crunch and he just grins blankly at me every time I talk anyways, regardless of what Im saying. (which I secretly love).
And so it went for the next few hours. Rushing to get us all showered, dressed, fed, teeth brushed, hair combed, and out the door.(With no lack of battles over each one of those things) Drop off at school, run errands, pick up from school, try to keep 1 year old happy and quiet as I try to be productive... Fail. Decide its a good idea to bundle up and head outside in the backyard for some good old fashioned fun. Enjoy approximately 4.5 minutes of delight, playing with my children, blowing and popping bubbles until Littler One spills Bigger One's bubbles. While I console Bigger One over the loss of her new bubbles and remind her to be gracious and forgiving with Littler One, and grab a towel to start mopping up the sticky mess, I turn around just in time to see it. Littler One. Holding a poop. My dog's poop. Oh dear God.
After I shrieked, scolded Buster the dog (not that it was his fault. Hey, everybody poops), disinfected, scoured, and scrubbed up my son, called it quits with the bubbles, tried to make dinner amid seventeen interruptions regarding snacks, barbie shoes, a half eaten chapstick, and a completely emptied trash can on my kitchen floor, - after that I decided to give it up. It was one of those days where everything was harder than I thought it should have been. You know those days you have, as a parent, where you honestly get tired of hearing your own voice? I decided to abandon my efforts (however valiant they may be!) to force my day into something it wasnt going to be. So I opened a diet Dr. Pepper, allowed myself one hearty eye-roll before I shooshed the "What the what?!" train of thought I felt forming in the back of my head, had a good chuckle, and acquiesced to the funk. Sometimes ya gotta just let it be. So I took my remaining shreds of peace of mind and my diet Dr. Pepper into my daughters playhouse and let her pretend to be my mommy while Jaxon banged toy pots over my head for 20 minutes. And I daresay that 20 minutes was the highlight of the day for all three of us.
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