Alert the media:
It's been a month since I've last posted.
Dude.
I just finished a painful essay on some beautiful poems (Frost at Midnight and Traveling Through the Dark) and decided to write a bit without a deadline.
Update on Man: All of his VA appts have been completed. He now has his final Army appt scheduled for the end of May. Following that appt, we have no idea how long it'll take to get the final word on whether he's fit for duty. At the rate we're going, we may get an answer in late June. Otherwise it's business as usual for him. His classes are going semi-well, but he is definitely done with school except to finally get his degree. I wonder how long one can be in college before going absolutely bonkers. We may find out this semester.
Princess: Still in advanced math, still plugging away at reading. She is developing a love of drawing and puts a surprising amount of emotion into her art. She's pretty brave in how she reaches into a drawing and puts shape in it. Unfortunately, I think she's feeling the stress of life the most of all of the kids. She talks about the potential of a move in the fall with some tension in her voice. -sigh- Still praying for her, as always.
Tag: Still Tag. He's getting more glued to the games but I can kick him off to play with friends pretty easily still. His reading has improved by leaps and bounds this semester. He's almost totally independent on his homework now but needs a prod to get it done when anything as remotely interesting as a dust bunny is in the room. I don't blame him.
Pebbles: She seems to be opening up a lot more this year. She has some great, crazy-feet dances and really loves music. She's also drawing a lot more, loves to hang out with a posse of little girls on our street, and is FINALLY REGISTERED FOR PINK SCHOOL!!! We're all excited about that.
Freida: Oh my. This kid is something else. Her latest fav thing is "blue". If it's blue, she likes it. If it isn't blue, it ought to be blue. She must have the blue bowl and the blue spoon. She's also in a song making phase, humming and singing with words. It's ridiculously cute.
Me: School is still going well but the stress is mounting. Math is becoming somewhat more challenging and I just don't understand what my English prof wants besides to lay in the sun and watch BBC all day long. I'm anxious to see if I can keep my Psych grade above 100% overall. (remind me to tell about the time I took my kids to class! it was cute) I've also been moved (at my request) from the nursery to teaching the 5 year olds at church. It's so nice to be out of nursery, and the best part is I get to go to the adult class in the 3rd hour! It's the best of both worlds, as far as I can tell. I have some good kids who all happen to be boys.
I planted a whole bunch of seeds a few weeks ago. Every last one of them died. Every. Last. One. All of my veggies, flowers, and herbs have gone to plant heaven in a worm's belly. The other day I found an onion sprouting quite cheerfully in my cupboard, so I stumped outside and spitefully planted it in the container I had so lovingly prepared with soil. It's flourishing out there, a pitiful triumph where zucchini and tomatoes might have been flowering by now. Apparently my green thumb is in hiding with rebel root vegetables to the left of the kitchen sink.
That's all I can muster at the moment. It's late (11pm! oh, so late) and I have to turn in the painful essay tomorrow and throw myself at the weekend with a fevered fury. Tag's birthday is this weekend. Fun to have an excuse to make a cake and buy toys. Weeee!
Thursday, April 22, 2010
Saturday, March 27, 2010
Spring Break and Spring
It's spring break and I havn't posted a darn thing. And spring break is almost over.
How are things?
School is going far better than I thought it would. My best subject is psych, where I'm currently earning slightly over 100%. Next is math (math?????? you say? yes, math) where I earned 115% on my last test and am otherwise pulling a strong A. Human services is going well, and it's an absolutely fascinating subject. I've got a strong A there as well. The only place my A is looking a little anemic is English. My prof spends most of the class period caressing Poe's work with his words and showing us YouTube videos of bombings in Iraq and George Carlin performances. Oh, well. At least I now have good reason to think of Kenndy's assassination as a massive conspiracy. So my time in that class hasn't been wasted.
We've heard a tiny bit on Man's med-boarding. He was contacted by the VA so they could begin to assess what degree of disability he's experiencing. His pain is at an all-time high and it's driving him nuts by degrees. Your continued prayers are appreciated.
Princess is doing well in class. She has been reinstated in the advanced math class, earns top marks in every subject, and has developed a hardcore fascination with Michael's. It's nice to see that at least one of my kids inherited their Oma's love of art. We recently did some self service on the bikes and have taken a few family outings around the neighborhood. I'm pretty proud of how my calves are looking nowadays after hauling the little girls around in a bike trailer. Princess likes the bike riding as long as we keep it to relatively level surfaces, but does well even with some fairly tough hills.
Tag is doing well, and learning to read (finally!). He went from being less than interested to "hey, don't read that for me, I've got it" seamlessly, it seems, and does most of his homework on his own now. He is still making friends all over the neighborhood and is universally liked. He's loving the freedom that better weather gives him and takes advantage of that freedom often.
Pebbles has the most complex personality of all of the kids, alternately quiet yet goofy, observant and interested and able to pick up most things and do well with them. She's getting closer to "pink-school" in the fall. We're trying to decide when to get her a real bike, but I worry that when we do she'll find ways to disappear with frequency. Her latest love is in drawing faces with googly eyes and monster mouths.
Freida is amazing. Her personality has hit overdrive, coming level with Tag's in so many ways. She plays with her voice like he does, has similar facial expressions and occasional volume levels, and is very good at communicating her wants and needs. Her language has really blossomed and she is suddenly interested in being understood perfectly. This leads to some frustration on all sides but it's nice when we finally figure things out. She also loves to draw but her mediums are walls and legs.
I've been sick again. The last few weeks I've developed an intolerence for any level of fat or chocolate consumption. It appears that I have some serious acid reflux which isn't entirely controlled by medication. If I'm not better in a month, I'll have to get scoped and otherwise investigated for digestive disorders. My major depression over this is that I'm now being treated for two different diseases associated with obesity and I'm only in my 20's. I guess this is a good opportunity to make some positive adjustments. Onward and upward.
So, there's the H news. Thankfully nothing too exciting has been happening but we've managed to have some fun. We planted some seeds, the kids and I, which began sprouting after a shocking three day. Most of the packets told us that it would take two weeks to see sprouts. The girls picked out some really lovely flowers, Tag is looking forward to his watermelons, and I'm drooling over my future tomatoes, zucchini, and herbs. The sidewalk chalk gets used almost every day, we've grilled a half dozen times since the weather improved, our frisbees are getting a good workout, and I think I'm in love with spring.
For a moment, it feels a little like peace. But, Pebbles just played ring around the rosy with a box of cereal so I need to go supervise the cleanup. -sigh- Peace. ;)
How are things?
School is going far better than I thought it would. My best subject is psych, where I'm currently earning slightly over 100%. Next is math (math?????? you say? yes, math) where I earned 115% on my last test and am otherwise pulling a strong A. Human services is going well, and it's an absolutely fascinating subject. I've got a strong A there as well. The only place my A is looking a little anemic is English. My prof spends most of the class period caressing Poe's work with his words and showing us YouTube videos of bombings in Iraq and George Carlin performances. Oh, well. At least I now have good reason to think of Kenndy's assassination as a massive conspiracy. So my time in that class hasn't been wasted.
We've heard a tiny bit on Man's med-boarding. He was contacted by the VA so they could begin to assess what degree of disability he's experiencing. His pain is at an all-time high and it's driving him nuts by degrees. Your continued prayers are appreciated.
Princess is doing well in class. She has been reinstated in the advanced math class, earns top marks in every subject, and has developed a hardcore fascination with Michael's. It's nice to see that at least one of my kids inherited their Oma's love of art. We recently did some self service on the bikes and have taken a few family outings around the neighborhood. I'm pretty proud of how my calves are looking nowadays after hauling the little girls around in a bike trailer. Princess likes the bike riding as long as we keep it to relatively level surfaces, but does well even with some fairly tough hills.
Tag is doing well, and learning to read (finally!). He went from being less than interested to "hey, don't read that for me, I've got it" seamlessly, it seems, and does most of his homework on his own now. He is still making friends all over the neighborhood and is universally liked. He's loving the freedom that better weather gives him and takes advantage of that freedom often.
Pebbles has the most complex personality of all of the kids, alternately quiet yet goofy, observant and interested and able to pick up most things and do well with them. She's getting closer to "pink-school" in the fall. We're trying to decide when to get her a real bike, but I worry that when we do she'll find ways to disappear with frequency. Her latest love is in drawing faces with googly eyes and monster mouths.
Freida is amazing. Her personality has hit overdrive, coming level with Tag's in so many ways. She plays with her voice like he does, has similar facial expressions and occasional volume levels, and is very good at communicating her wants and needs. Her language has really blossomed and she is suddenly interested in being understood perfectly. This leads to some frustration on all sides but it's nice when we finally figure things out. She also loves to draw but her mediums are walls and legs.
I've been sick again. The last few weeks I've developed an intolerence for any level of fat or chocolate consumption. It appears that I have some serious acid reflux which isn't entirely controlled by medication. If I'm not better in a month, I'll have to get scoped and otherwise investigated for digestive disorders. My major depression over this is that I'm now being treated for two different diseases associated with obesity and I'm only in my 20's. I guess this is a good opportunity to make some positive adjustments. Onward and upward.
So, there's the H news. Thankfully nothing too exciting has been happening but we've managed to have some fun. We planted some seeds, the kids and I, which began sprouting after a shocking three day. Most of the packets told us that it would take two weeks to see sprouts. The girls picked out some really lovely flowers, Tag is looking forward to his watermelons, and I'm drooling over my future tomatoes, zucchini, and herbs. The sidewalk chalk gets used almost every day, we've grilled a half dozen times since the weather improved, our frisbees are getting a good workout, and I think I'm in love with spring.
For a moment, it feels a little like peace. But, Pebbles just played ring around the rosy with a box of cereal so I need to go supervise the cleanup. -sigh- Peace. ;)
Saturday, March 13, 2010
Glenn Beck.
Glenn Beck asked us all to leave the LDS church.
Not in so many words, but that was the jist of it. Selected quotes:
Why, then, is it ok for a global ban on gay marriage to occur but a global health care system for those who can't afford it such a violation of free agency? Either let the people choose for themselves, or don't. Either let people choose to marry their homosexual partner and let people choose to help the poor, or make laws that ban gay marriage and lift the poor. It's ironic that Christian conservatives are so vocal about their freedom to choose but feel that someone else's freedom to choose ends precisely when it violates Christian values. It seems they only want freedom to choose what they think is right. It's a hypocritical attitude that has rendered countless generation helpless to think entirely for themselves in the face of dogma.
Mistakes and bad choices are how we learn. Of course that doesn't give us the excuse to do any less than our best, but sometimes our best is awfully darn lousy.
A big "thank you" to those Christians out there who do practice the core beliefs of Christianity -- love, patience, forgiveness, and freedom to exercise the opportunity of repentance.
Not in so many words, but that was the jist of it. Selected quotes:
Last week, the conservative broadcaster Glenn Beck called on Christians to leave their churches if they heard any preaching about social or economic justice because, he claimed, those were slogans affiliated with Nazism and Communism.This should also give pause to many LDS folks who think that the word "socialism" is tantamount to slavery to big government. They want gay marriage to be banned, but won't support a program that helps lift the poor from desperate circumstances? I understand that we want people to choose to help the poor on their own, making the choice individually and in an amount of their choosing.
Even Mormon scholars in Mr. Beck’s own church, the Church of Jesus Christ of Latter-day Saints, said in interviews that Mr. Beck seemed ignorant of just how central social justice teaching was to Mormonism.
The controversy began when Mr. Beck said on his radio show: “I beg you, look for the words ’social justice’ or ‘economic justice’ on your church Web site. If you find it, run as fast as you can. Social justice and economic justice, they are code words. “Am I advising people to leave their church? Yes!"
Kent P. Jackson, associate dean of religion at Brigham Young University, said in an interview: “My own experience as a believing Latter-day Saint over the course of 60 years is that I have seen social justice in practice in every L.D.S. congregation I’ve been in. People endeavor with all of our frailties and shortcomings to love one another and to lift up other people. So if that’s Beck’s definition of social justice, he and I are definitely not on the same team.”
Mr. Barlow said that Mr. Beck’s comments were particularly ill-timed because just this year, the church’s highest authority, the Quorum of the Twelve Apostles, issued a new “Handbook of Instructions” to church leaders in which they revised the church’s “three-fold mission” and added a fourth mission statement: care for the poor.
Why, then, is it ok for a global ban on gay marriage to occur but a global health care system for those who can't afford it such a violation of free agency? Either let the people choose for themselves, or don't. Either let people choose to marry their homosexual partner and let people choose to help the poor, or make laws that ban gay marriage and lift the poor. It's ironic that Christian conservatives are so vocal about their freedom to choose but feel that someone else's freedom to choose ends precisely when it violates Christian values. It seems they only want freedom to choose what they think is right. It's a hypocritical attitude that has rendered countless generation helpless to think entirely for themselves in the face of dogma.
Mistakes and bad choices are how we learn. Of course that doesn't give us the excuse to do any less than our best, but sometimes our best is awfully darn lousy.
A big "thank you" to those Christians out there who do practice the core beliefs of Christianity -- love, patience, forgiveness, and freedom to exercise the opportunity of repentance.
Thursday, March 11, 2010
Growing up
There's a kid in Psych class who had bushy, messy hair. Think Jim Halpert:

That hair was always in his face and hanging in his eyes until this past Monday when he walked into class. I could barely recognize him, he looked so clean cut and combed. You know how some people look like they have brown eyes until they get a hair cut? This kid was one of them and his eyes were such a clear blue that I couldn't help but stare for a moment. He noticed so I said:
"Wow! Nice hair cut! Who knew you had blue eyes? In fact, you're quite good looking. Don't you think so, C?" My classmate looked a little bewildered at my comments and started laughing.
"What?" I said. "He's a cute kid, and I'm an old married lady. No harm in saying he's good looking."
The kid in question (I think he's about 10 years younger than me) gave a charming half grin and blushed.
A couple of days later I was in the computer lab when I happened to go up to the printer for my notes when he suddenly popped up out of nowhere for his own notes.
"Hey," he said. "Do you know about this assignment?"
I gave him a clear, bold look, told him what I knew about the assignment, and, for the first time in my life, I watched an instant crush form on someone's face. It's a minor one, but he got that puppy dog look, gave his little half grin again, and couldn't quite look away.
It was so cute! Being an old married lady sure can be good for a chuckle. I've always preferred older men, though.

That hair was always in his face and hanging in his eyes until this past Monday when he walked into class. I could barely recognize him, he looked so clean cut and combed. You know how some people look like they have brown eyes until they get a hair cut? This kid was one of them and his eyes were such a clear blue that I couldn't help but stare for a moment. He noticed so I said:
"Wow! Nice hair cut! Who knew you had blue eyes? In fact, you're quite good looking. Don't you think so, C?" My classmate looked a little bewildered at my comments and started laughing.
"What?" I said. "He's a cute kid, and I'm an old married lady. No harm in saying he's good looking."
The kid in question (I think he's about 10 years younger than me) gave a charming half grin and blushed.
A couple of days later I was in the computer lab when I happened to go up to the printer for my notes when he suddenly popped up out of nowhere for his own notes.
"Hey," he said. "Do you know about this assignment?"
I gave him a clear, bold look, told him what I knew about the assignment, and, for the first time in my life, I watched an instant crush form on someone's face. It's a minor one, but he got that puppy dog look, gave his little half grin again, and couldn't quite look away.
It was so cute! Being an old married lady sure can be good for a chuckle. I've always preferred older men, though.
Tuesday, March 02, 2010
Hectic
Things have been busy lately. Busy enough that I felt dizzy all weekend until I sat on my rear for a few hours Sunday afternoon and just knitted and watched whattheheckever was on Hulu.
Yesterday, Princess asked me in a sort of plaintive tone "mom, you said we'd be going to Michael's some time. When can we go?"
Her teacher talked to me a couple of weeks ago and said that she had been acting very distracted in school, forgetting her homework, and having episodes of crying in the classroom. This all began when I started school, which of course coincided with that accident.
I walked away from that meeting determined to do something to bouy her spirits, something that would help me spend time with her and otherwise give her a skill with which she could be happy. She had kind of letting the knitting go after a while due to difficulty with getting the right tension without having the yarn flip off (she was wrapping it tightly enough that I had to break the yarn to get it off of the pegs). So I told her that we could go to Michael's, browse for a long time, and see what we could bring home for her.
Her question struck something deep within me, and I thought about it for about three seconds. "Tonight, right after dinner." Family Home Evening wasn't going to happen anyway, so I made an executive decision to go on an immediate date with my daughter.
I helped her hurry the dishes into the washer and away we went. We had a great time, stopping first at Costco to get her a bathing suit for the summer, then going to WalMart to pick up a couple of shirts that she absolutely loves. Finally, we stopped at Michael's. We got her a very small counted cross stitch project and a small latchhook project, and she used her own money to buy a book where you can use a stylus to scratch at a black page to reveal colored foil, creating designs with the rainbow-on-black look. Also, scrapbook organizing supplies were 40% off, so I got a GREAT DEAL on an organizing thingy that will make my craft room breath in relief. (can't find it online, you'll just have to trust that Raul has a girlfriend now, Siobhan.) It's small but glorious.
And Princess talked. She talked and talked, and I responded and we laughed. She made jokes and her face glowed when I laughed. She told me about school, and about her friends, and about how excited she was about her grandparents to all visit this week. She told me about the colors she loves and the objects she'd like to have some day (usually in reference to things we don't keep in the house because the little girls either scatter them or draw on the walls with them) and, by the time we came home, she looked contented despite how much her feet hurt from all the walking.
We'll have to do that more often.
Yesterday, Princess asked me in a sort of plaintive tone "mom, you said we'd be going to Michael's some time. When can we go?"
Her teacher talked to me a couple of weeks ago and said that she had been acting very distracted in school, forgetting her homework, and having episodes of crying in the classroom. This all began when I started school, which of course coincided with that accident.
I walked away from that meeting determined to do something to bouy her spirits, something that would help me spend time with her and otherwise give her a skill with which she could be happy. She had kind of letting the knitting go after a while due to difficulty with getting the right tension without having the yarn flip off (she was wrapping it tightly enough that I had to break the yarn to get it off of the pegs). So I told her that we could go to Michael's, browse for a long time, and see what we could bring home for her.
Her question struck something deep within me, and I thought about it for about three seconds. "Tonight, right after dinner." Family Home Evening wasn't going to happen anyway, so I made an executive decision to go on an immediate date with my daughter.
I helped her hurry the dishes into the washer and away we went. We had a great time, stopping first at Costco to get her a bathing suit for the summer, then going to WalMart to pick up a couple of shirts that she absolutely loves. Finally, we stopped at Michael's. We got her a very small counted cross stitch project and a small latchhook project, and she used her own money to buy a book where you can use a stylus to scratch at a black page to reveal colored foil, creating designs with the rainbow-on-black look. Also, scrapbook organizing supplies were 40% off, so I got a GREAT DEAL on an organizing thingy that will make my craft room breath in relief. (can't find it online, you'll just have to trust that Raul has a girlfriend now, Siobhan.) It's small but glorious.
And Princess talked. She talked and talked, and I responded and we laughed. She made jokes and her face glowed when I laughed. She told me about school, and about her friends, and about how excited she was about her grandparents to all visit this week. She told me about the colors she loves and the objects she'd like to have some day (usually in reference to things we don't keep in the house because the little girls either scatter them or draw on the walls with them) and, by the time we came home, she looked contented despite how much her feet hurt from all the walking.
We'll have to do that more often.
Friday, February 19, 2010
Making a book out of a blog
I've looked at options for making the blog into a bound book before, but here's another one that looks a lot less labor intensive than some.
Going through some of the old posts was so much fun. Why havn't I been posting about my family as much lately?
I guess I got busy.
Princess has been enjoying school but is in the "everything about my life is boring" phase. Since she turned 8, she gets to go to church activities with other girls twice a month. Her first activity was this past Wednesday where she decorated cute Valentine cookies with lemon cream cheese frosting. Her hair is getting quite long which she both loves (because it's beautiful) and hates (because she has to brush it). She is the same height as one of my friends from college.
Tag is also feeling bored with all the dirty snow outside. He's normally outside for as much time as possible during daylight but it's so cold and wet out there that he's finally jumped on the video game bandwagon. Poor kid. He's still resisting reading. I can't wait for him to have summer so we can all go to the pool three times a week.
Pebbles is growing. She's still relatively quiet and intense, but her silly side comes out to play quite often. She's starting to like pink in earnest, but eats the nail polish off of her fingers whenever we paint them. Lava is still her favorite subject in books or on tv.
Freida is a genuine person now. She's talking a lot and has a very strong personality. I don't know if Tag was more cuddly than she is but there isn't much time in the day when she isn't either playing with someone or in a grownup's lap. She loves balloons with a searing passion.
My psych class is very interesting. We're currently learning about sensation vs perception and consciousness. As part of a an object lesson, the teacher passed around bandaids and markers, asking us to put the bandaids on and sniff the markers. I got a good chuckle over the sniffing of the markers, given that a section on consciousness-altering drug use was coming up soon. It turns out that the more you smell something or feel it, the less you'll sense it. And, did you know that one of the reasons you're supposed to apply cold and heat to an injury is that it's difficult to experience both hot/cold and pain at the same time? Cold of course keeps the swelling down, but alternating acts as a natural pain killer.
Human services is still my most fascinating class. It's difficult to explain what makes it so interesting. Maybe because it addresses my favorite topic for the last several years: personal growth and the journey toward autonomy.
Oh, well. Maybe I should just post some of the short papers I've had to write for that class since they deal with some thoughts and experiences anyway.
The snow is still high but slushifying now that the temps are in the 40's, but Monday promises yet more of this white stuff that is both wretched and marvelous. Even college has extended the semester for a week, and there are rumors of spring break being canceled for the kids, especially if we get more time off next week.
Here's my latest crochet project: I shall name him Stanley the Snake. He'll be a good companion for Steve the Gecko.
Going through some of the old posts was so much fun. Why havn't I been posting about my family as much lately?
I guess I got busy.
Princess has been enjoying school but is in the "everything about my life is boring" phase. Since she turned 8, she gets to go to church activities with other girls twice a month. Her first activity was this past Wednesday where she decorated cute Valentine cookies with lemon cream cheese frosting. Her hair is getting quite long which she both loves (because it's beautiful) and hates (because she has to brush it). She is the same height as one of my friends from college.
Tag is also feeling bored with all the dirty snow outside. He's normally outside for as much time as possible during daylight but it's so cold and wet out there that he's finally jumped on the video game bandwagon. Poor kid. He's still resisting reading. I can't wait for him to have summer so we can all go to the pool three times a week.
Pebbles is growing. She's still relatively quiet and intense, but her silly side comes out to play quite often. She's starting to like pink in earnest, but eats the nail polish off of her fingers whenever we paint them. Lava is still her favorite subject in books or on tv.
Freida is a genuine person now. She's talking a lot and has a very strong personality. I don't know if Tag was more cuddly than she is but there isn't much time in the day when she isn't either playing with someone or in a grownup's lap. She loves balloons with a searing passion.
My psych class is very interesting. We're currently learning about sensation vs perception and consciousness. As part of a an object lesson, the teacher passed around bandaids and markers, asking us to put the bandaids on and sniff the markers. I got a good chuckle over the sniffing of the markers, given that a section on consciousness-altering drug use was coming up soon. It turns out that the more you smell something or feel it, the less you'll sense it. And, did you know that one of the reasons you're supposed to apply cold and heat to an injury is that it's difficult to experience both hot/cold and pain at the same time? Cold of course keeps the swelling down, but alternating acts as a natural pain killer.
Human services is still my most fascinating class. It's difficult to explain what makes it so interesting. Maybe because it addresses my favorite topic for the last several years: personal growth and the journey toward autonomy.
Oh, well. Maybe I should just post some of the short papers I've had to write for that class since they deal with some thoughts and experiences anyway.
The snow is still high but slushifying now that the temps are in the 40's, but Monday promises yet more of this white stuff that is both wretched and marvelous. Even college has extended the semester for a week, and there are rumors of spring break being canceled for the kids, especially if we get more time off next week.
Here's my latest crochet project: I shall name him Stanley the Snake. He'll be a good companion for Steve the Gecko.
More than he could chew
Tag decided to not do his dishes one night (and I was too busy with homework to do much enforcing), so he was given the choice of doing them this morning or letting them pile all day and doing them when he came home from school. Being the little procrastinator he is, of course he opted to put it off for as long as possible.
This afternoon, this dishes filled both sinks and spilled onto the counter, sometimes teetering among the tupperware bowls we got out to eat cereal since all the normal ones were dirty , other times jostling for room among the 50 cups the little girls get out in a day.
He took one look at the mountain and despaired. I did a little grieving of my own as his wail penetrated my awareness and I blew him off in a fit of pique.
"Just hush, Tag! I know you're sad, I know you're frustrated, but just start! If you start, if you show me that you're working, I'll come help."
"But I can't do this much! It's too tall!"
I marched back into the kitchen, ready to give him a piece of my mind regarding procrastination when I saw that one of the sinks had far fewer dishes.
"Look..." I said, buying myself some time. "What if I just set the timer... for five minutes."
"Five minutes!!! That's way to short! And the dishes are too tall! Short and tall don't go together!"
"HOLD ON!!! I mean, hold on. Now, look at this sink with just a few dishes. I'll set the timer for five minutes and you just get these done. We'll worry about the rest after these are done. Ok?"
He paused, his mouth still open wide for a rebuttal, his eyebrows still smashed together in a severely pathetic frown, and looked at the small pile. It looked so much shorter than the rest of the dishes...
"Ok, mom. But, I'm not going to make it in five minutes."
I took a quiet breath. "We'll see."
Less than four minutes later, he came to get me with a smile on his face. "Look how fast I did these!"
"Look at that! And you still have time on the timer!" My heart raced, thrilled to give him some success.
"Can I have a snack now?"
Hmmmmm... thin ice. Yes or no? "How about you stuff your face while I reload this side of the sink. Then, as soon as I set the timer, you start up again. Good deal?"
"Yeah, mom, good deal."
In this manner, he managed to deal with a pile of dishes that made even me groan and avert my eyes. He didn't make it before the five minutes each time, but I just said "it's ok. I'm not mad, and there is no punishment. We'll just make a smaller pile this time and see how you do."
"Ok mom, good deal."
Happy Tag, happy mom, no fight, and clean dishes.
I call that a stunning success, folks.
This afternoon, this dishes filled both sinks and spilled onto the counter, sometimes teetering among the tupperware bowls we got out to eat cereal since all the normal ones were dirty , other times jostling for room among the 50 cups the little girls get out in a day.
He took one look at the mountain and despaired. I did a little grieving of my own as his wail penetrated my awareness and I blew him off in a fit of pique.
"Just hush, Tag! I know you're sad, I know you're frustrated, but just start! If you start, if you show me that you're working, I'll come help."
"But I can't do this much! It's too tall!"
I marched back into the kitchen, ready to give him a piece of my mind regarding procrastination when I saw that one of the sinks had far fewer dishes.
"Look..." I said, buying myself some time. "What if I just set the timer... for five minutes."
"Five minutes!!! That's way to short! And the dishes are too tall! Short and tall don't go together!"
"HOLD ON!!! I mean, hold on. Now, look at this sink with just a few dishes. I'll set the timer for five minutes and you just get these done. We'll worry about the rest after these are done. Ok?"
He paused, his mouth still open wide for a rebuttal, his eyebrows still smashed together in a severely pathetic frown, and looked at the small pile. It looked so much shorter than the rest of the dishes...
"Ok, mom. But, I'm not going to make it in five minutes."
I took a quiet breath. "We'll see."
Less than four minutes later, he came to get me with a smile on his face. "Look how fast I did these!"
"Look at that! And you still have time on the timer!" My heart raced, thrilled to give him some success.
"Can I have a snack now?"
Hmmmmm... thin ice. Yes or no? "How about you stuff your face while I reload this side of the sink. Then, as soon as I set the timer, you start up again. Good deal?"
"Yeah, mom, good deal."
In this manner, he managed to deal with a pile of dishes that made even me groan and avert my eyes. He didn't make it before the five minutes each time, but I just said "it's ok. I'm not mad, and there is no punishment. We'll just make a smaller pile this time and see how you do."
"Ok mom, good deal."
Happy Tag, happy mom, no fight, and clean dishes.
I call that a stunning success, folks.
Sunday, February 14, 2010
Baptism Program pictures
Taking pictures of this child is SO DIFFICULT. She makes faces, blinks, shields her face with whatever's handy, etc. So, today I told her that if she wanted a nice picture in her baptism program that she'd have to HOLD STILL and do something besides troll face.
She managed to do quite well.


This is the one we're putting on the program:

And one grumpy face for good measure.
She managed to do quite well.
This is the one we're putting on the program:
And one grumpy face for good measure.
Thursday, February 11, 2010
Why therapists aren't allowed to "therapy" their loved ones.
I've thought about my marriage and the relationships my friends tell me about with some trepidation in the past, particularly in the area of communication.
There are two things which must absolutely be present in marital communication but often conflict horribly:
1) Openness; honesty; bare-faced, exposed-nerve, no holds barred confession.
2) A strong sense of comfort and safety in expressing the above.
If you can't see where there might be conflict between the two, then go away. This post isn't for you.
Tonight, Man spoke of some aspects of his life with which he is less than satisfied, but all of the reading I've been doing in both psych and human services (which has a strong emphasis in therapeutic techniques and positive/humanistic psychology) laid what he was saying into a textbook perfect array of how a person can wallow in shortsighted misery whilst desperately searching for solutions that are safely tucked into their shirt pocket.
And, all of a sudden, I saw what the therapist I was seeing in Missouri meant when she talked about controlling what I can, and no longer allowing my misery over a thing to prevent me from dealing with it.
So, there Man was, trying to bear his soul, but it was all so clear in a therapeutic context that I couldn't help but point out contradictions and the fact that things A though F were totally within his power to alter, whereas thing G was just a matter of time and finding the right help. (Thing G was, of course, the shoulder pain, which I won't believe to be gone until it has been absent for a year.)
And, in the moment when it all fell into place, I also realized how utterly annoying it would be to have the person who should be your safest confidant in the world point out where you aren't taking the reins as you might in the most sensitive aspects of your life, the ventures you undertake that largely determine your worth as a person.
So I stopped. I realized that, in understanding the flaws of his misery, I was undermining how safe it should be to talk to me, how comfortable he should feel with his open sharing. After all, the fact that he's a man who is willing to talk about his problems instead of putting them all in the Man Cave is pretty stupendous in the first place, without me messing it up by putting a fixit hat on during confession time.
True listeners are worth their weight in gold, and now I know why. Listening is a very difficult skill to master, in its truest and most valuable sense.
Some of the greatest advice I've gotten in my life is from an advice columnist (but please, don't let that ruin your opinion of me) and it is as follows:
It's amazing how effective this one nugget can be, fascinating how my perspective whirls into better alignment with reality when sobbing subjectivity steps aside and lets capable objectivity steer for a while.
Problem: The kids want more attention.
Patty Passthebuck: I just can't stand how whiny they get and who wants to spend time with whiny kids?
Reba Responsible: Well, I shall rearrange my priorities so that they don't feel they have to whine to get my attention in the first place. Simple.
Problem: The car needs an oil change.
Patty Passthebuck: What am I supposed to do about it? It's the car's problem! Why does it have to do that in the middle of the week when I don't have time or money??
Reba Responsible: It's only $40 (which I've saved because I have this handy odometer that tells me when the next oil change is due), and it'll take 30 mins while I get some groceries across the street or read a chapter in my fav book. Easy.
Problem: Bad communication with a boss.
Patty Passthebuck: I can't tell what she wants from me, so I'll just tell her she's expecting too much and nothing I do is good enough. I'll just chalk it up as a lost cause and ignore her.
Reba Responsible: I've made an appointment with my boss so we can clearly outline expectations, and set up standards of reporting that will enable both of us to be happy at work on a long term basis.
Do you see the difference? Now, you'll have some friends who will side with Patty because they're sycophants who think you want them to agree with you when you whine. Listening to Reba is a pain in the rear, but BEING Reba is one of the many simple yet subtle keys to happiness.
Here it is in simple terms: Patty is a victim. Reba is proactive, and realistic.
So, I was listening to Man be a bit of a Patty tonight. Poor guy. Maybe I should say he was being Neville Notmyfault, or perhaps Yakov Yesthat'smyfaultbutIdon'tknowwhattodoaboutitwhydoeslifehavetobesohard (those crazy Russians and their last names).
Anyway, he was being Yakov and I was being Reba and we were both irritating the liver out of each other so he sulked off to bed and I eyed my textbooks like we were sharing an "mmmm-hm" moment.
And now I know why therapists aren't allowed to therapy their spouses. Do you all feel sorry for him yet?
There are two things which must absolutely be present in marital communication but often conflict horribly:
1) Openness; honesty; bare-faced, exposed-nerve, no holds barred confession.
2) A strong sense of comfort and safety in expressing the above.
If you can't see where there might be conflict between the two, then go away. This post isn't for you.
Tonight, Man spoke of some aspects of his life with which he is less than satisfied, but all of the reading I've been doing in both psych and human services (which has a strong emphasis in therapeutic techniques and positive/humanistic psychology) laid what he was saying into a textbook perfect array of how a person can wallow in shortsighted misery whilst desperately searching for solutions that are safely tucked into their shirt pocket.
And, all of a sudden, I saw what the therapist I was seeing in Missouri meant when she talked about controlling what I can, and no longer allowing my misery over a thing to prevent me from dealing with it.
So, there Man was, trying to bear his soul, but it was all so clear in a therapeutic context that I couldn't help but point out contradictions and the fact that things A though F were totally within his power to alter, whereas thing G was just a matter of time and finding the right help. (Thing G was, of course, the shoulder pain, which I won't believe to be gone until it has been absent for a year.)
And, in the moment when it all fell into place, I also realized how utterly annoying it would be to have the person who should be your safest confidant in the world point out where you aren't taking the reins as you might in the most sensitive aspects of your life, the ventures you undertake that largely determine your worth as a person.
So I stopped. I realized that, in understanding the flaws of his misery, I was undermining how safe it should be to talk to me, how comfortable he should feel with his open sharing. After all, the fact that he's a man who is willing to talk about his problems instead of putting them all in the Man Cave is pretty stupendous in the first place, without me messing it up by putting a fixit hat on during confession time.
True listeners are worth their weight in gold, and now I know why. Listening is a very difficult skill to master, in its truest and most valuable sense.
Some of the greatest advice I've gotten in my life is from an advice columnist (but please, don't let that ruin your opinion of me) and it is as follows:
When faced with a difficult situation, think of what you'd tell a friend who asked you for advice on that same issue. You might just find that you have more wisdom than you first realize.
It's amazing how effective this one nugget can be, fascinating how my perspective whirls into better alignment with reality when sobbing subjectivity steps aside and lets capable objectivity steer for a while.
Problem: The kids want more attention.
Patty Passthebuck: I just can't stand how whiny they get and who wants to spend time with whiny kids?
Reba Responsible: Well, I shall rearrange my priorities so that they don't feel they have to whine to get my attention in the first place. Simple.
Problem: The car needs an oil change.
Patty Passthebuck: What am I supposed to do about it? It's the car's problem! Why does it have to do that in the middle of the week when I don't have time or money??
Reba Responsible: It's only $40 (which I've saved because I have this handy odometer that tells me when the next oil change is due), and it'll take 30 mins while I get some groceries across the street or read a chapter in my fav book. Easy.
Problem: Bad communication with a boss.
Patty Passthebuck: I can't tell what she wants from me, so I'll just tell her she's expecting too much and nothing I do is good enough. I'll just chalk it up as a lost cause and ignore her.
Reba Responsible: I've made an appointment with my boss so we can clearly outline expectations, and set up standards of reporting that will enable both of us to be happy at work on a long term basis.
Do you see the difference? Now, you'll have some friends who will side with Patty because they're sycophants who think you want them to agree with you when you whine. Listening to Reba is a pain in the rear, but BEING Reba is one of the many simple yet subtle keys to happiness.
Here it is in simple terms: Patty is a victim. Reba is proactive, and realistic.
So, I was listening to Man be a bit of a Patty tonight. Poor guy. Maybe I should say he was being Neville Notmyfault, or perhaps Yakov Yesthat'smyfaultbutIdon'tknowwhattodoaboutitwhydoeslifehavetobesohard (those crazy Russians and their last names).
Anyway, he was being Yakov and I was being Reba and we were both irritating the liver out of each other so he sulked off to bed and I eyed my textbooks like we were sharing an "mmmm-hm" moment.
And now I know why therapists aren't allowed to therapy their spouses. Do you all feel sorry for him yet?
Wednesday, February 10, 2010
cabin fever
Cabin fever (poor video quality, but you get the idea)
Pebbles is always up for a photo shoot. Tag was just along for the ride.

She says she doesn't like having her picture taken, but I think it's because she always makes weird faces. Here's a nice pout.
And this one just won't hold still for anything. Enjoy Her Blurriness.
Pebbles is always up for a photo shoot. Tag was just along for the ride.
She says she doesn't like having her picture taken, but I think it's because she always makes weird faces. Here's a nice pout.
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