Drama Queens

Drama Queens. We all know one or more. If you don't, you may want to evaluate yourself and see if you are a DQ.

This has really hit home lately as my personal DQ is getting so over the top I'm finding myself screening calls to avoid talking with her or, should I say listen to her. Who could get a word in edgewise and even if I did, she's not really listening, she's only waiting to be able to tell me how her life is worse and hinting to ask her how she's doing (and you do everything you can to avoid asking that question). I actually don't feel guilty about the screening. I've learned over the years to distance myself from emotionally draining people as much as possible. But at what point do I sit her down and have a long heart to heart. As is typical of the DQ mentality, she feels that everything is hunky dory and that I am her best friend in the whole wide world and she completely misses how everyone (at least all the mutual friends I know) perceives her and her constant "demands" for attention. 

Her DQness usually takes the form of an illness. She's always sick. I never tell her anymore if my kids have the sniffles and she's planning on coming over because if she hears they have the sniffles, within 2 days she has the flu. And she never gets a common cold, it's always the flu or a sinus infection or bronchitis, etc. And she suffers from migraines. Which is awful, I'm sure, but what kind of migraines always magically appear hours before we're supposed to double date with her and her husband? Or show up the day before a planned movie marathon? She always seems just fine when they plan to go out of town. We actually haven't socialized with her and her husband in months because of these ailments. It has started to feel like the sicknesses are really excuses to not spend time with us. And it also feels a little like the boy who cried wolf after a while. I'm sure she actually is sick sometimes and does suffer from migraines sometimes, but I don't think it's as often or nearly as serious as she portrays. I firmly believe she has fallen into this pattern where she doesn't know how to get the positive attention she desires and this is the only way she knows to get any attention. 

My hubby and I adore her hubby. He's one of our best friends. We met him before they were married and he is the one who introduced us to her. Her and her hubby are the only couple we socialize with and do things with so this constant not being able to "hang out" with us is putting a small damper on our social life (good thing Hubby and I are best friends and LOVE to spend time together, but we're now brainstorming ways to meet some new couples to have fun with). Friendship is like any other relationship, it takes work from all to keep it healthy and strong and they're not at a point where they can put forth this effort, but they still feel like everything is as it always has been. So we feel our friendship is totally taken for granted.  I can't cut her out completely nor do I want to. I'd really like to see her get some kind of mental help. She can be fun when she's not always suffering some ailment. Her hubby can be the life of the party if he's given the chance to actually go out and not take care of her all the time.

I have in the past sat down with both of them and gave her a book I had read. It was an outstanding book called 

Don't Call Me a Drama Queen!: A Guide for the Overly Sensitive and Their Significant Others Who Need to Learn How to Lighten Up and Go with the Flow Dr. Debra Mandel

I had even highlighted sections. And I can hear you saying that sounds a little presumptuous (I thought so, too, truthfully), but she also claims she likes to be told these things about her. She thanked me and read it. And overall, even if it didn't help her (and it didn't. It floored her to think I saw her that way.) it helped me because I am in fact a recovering DQ.

So part of me wonders why this bugs me so much. Is it because it reminds me of where I've come from and how horrible I was and the extent I'd go to get attention and how easy it is to fall back into those old patterns? Or is it because I really care about her and want her to realize how she's ostracizing herself from others? Even if I talk to her, will she listen? She didn't last time and because I have been the only one "brave" enough to say something, I'm pretty sure she thinks it's just me. In the end you can't help someone who doesn't want or think they need help. Now, all that's left is for me to decide whether or not to speak to her about how I'm feeling. I don't think it will help her and truthfully, it's been so long since we've spent quality time together with them that I no longer miss them like I used to. Do I care enough anymore to even try? The only reason I might say yes to that is her delusion that we are besties. One, it's not nice to lead anyone on for any reason. And two, if she truly thinks of me as a bestie I should act like one and try my darndest to keep her from continuing down a path that I know from personal experience doesn't lead to everyone proving that they love you and that they care about you, it only leads to everyone tiring of your drama and distancing themselves so that in the end you're left with the one thing you feared the most , feeling alone and unloved. 

I thought writing this all out would help me come to some conclusion on what to do. It hasn't, but I do feel better and my thoughts are definitely more organized now, so I feel it will be easier to make the right decision.

To those who also have a DQ in your life, please know you are not alone and that it's ok to distance yourself from their drama. We should all strive to live simply and drama free!

Thing 4 and Kindergarten

Wednesday was the day that I'd been dreaming of for a while. We registered Thing 4 for kindergarten in the fall!

She received her 4 shots the day before saying, "This is the BEST day of my life!"

"Why, Honey?" I asked.

"Because I get shots!" she replied.

Who was I to squash her enthusiasm! Although I did let her know that they do sting so she wouldn't be completely unprepared and her bravado lasted right up until the actual time to get the shots. She was going to go first (Thing 1 was also due for a shot) and get a sticker for every shot she had to do. As soon as we walked in the shot room, Thing 1 had to go first. Thing 1 showed no fear and didn't even flinch. I explained that the shot nurse was AWESOME and super fast and she'd been giving the shots to all the siblings since Thing 1 was a baby! Thing 4 wasn't buying it. I still think she may have been fine had her natural curiosity not got the better of her. I couldn't keep her from watching! So when she saw that little drip of blood from the 1st shot, she LOST it! Shot Nurse was super speedy as usual and administered 2 shots in each arm and had super cool band-aids in place in record time so I could begin the calm down. Anyone else notice it's not as easy to calm a 5yo after shots as it is to calm a baby? I cuddled, I rocked, I soothed with soothing words and nothing was working! I tried the sticker bribe. Nope, she no longer cared about getting those 4 stickers. We finally had to leave the shot room stickerless with a wailing 5yo. I think I prefer it happening the way I did it when I was 5. I wailed and howled like I'd been mortally wounded until I received the shot at which time the shot was not nearly as bad as I had imagined and I quieted right up when it was all done. Thing 4 wailed until we arrived home...a 20 minute drive! She still has on 2 of the 4 band-aids!

Alright, back to the registering. Hubby and I made a big deal out of it and he came home for lunch. We went to the school and signed our youngest daughter away (it felt like it after filling out all that paper work!), took some pictures (most of which she's clinging to Hubby's leg) and then took her out to lunch at a place of her choosing (which began as McDonald's but we'd managed to change her mind in the time we filled out the mass amounts of paperwork...it was still her decision LOL).

I thought I have some mixed feelings about all of this. After all, this is my youngest. I've had a child with me at home for 15 years now. But the only expression I could come up with was FREEDOM! I'll have to see if I feel the same way in the fall when Thing 4 will actually be out of the house. Maybe half day kindergarten was designed as much for the mom as the child. A slow breaking of the physical bond that we've shared for 5+ years. I do know that once they leave this house for school, they're never quite the same. They meet new people, exchange new ideas, and start to shape how they'll view the world as individuals. They no longer need us parents as much and become more independent. So, again, we'll see how I do in the fall. I'll let you all know if I actually shed tears or if I still feel the elated sense of freedom!

Boutique Critique!

I've been suckered into the world of facebook and blog giveaways! I've been pretty lucky so far, too, winning about 1 a day. Of course this does not count the ratio of entries to wins, but I'll still consider myself lucky. :o) Anyway, most of the winnings I put into our Relay for Life gift baskets which we'll sell drawing tickets for at our event in July to raise money for the American Cancer Society. And when I do win an item and put it into the Relay Baskets (as they're affectionately known around here), I post a thank you and give kudos to the business we won from on our Relay for Life blog: Raven's Rascals. There are some winnings, though, that just don't make it into the Relay Baskets because the 5yo (known here as Thing 4) finds them utterly beautiful, princessy and too irresistible to not be in her possession. Most of these have been the hair pretties. So, I've decided these boutiques need some shout out kudos as well and figured that my Homemaker blog would be a great place for that to happen.

We had 3 different packages come our way this week and it demanded an outdoor photo shoot since it was our 1st warm, sunny day this spring. Only one of these items was an actual giveaway winning from a boutique. The other 2 boutiques sent items I purchased for the diva in training, but they also get kudos!

1st: Shelby's Sweet Bows

We won our choice of an interchangeable hair bow. If there's one thing Thing 4 likes as much as princesses, it's ballerinas! So she chose the Ballet Slipper interchangeable bow. Basically, the ballet slipper can be worn with the white bow or separately.

The bows are well made and passed what we call, the Spin Test. The Spin Test is Thing 4 spinning in the bucket spinner at the playground as fast as she can which is fast enough that we all become dizzy just from watching. The bows stayed put and when she finally stopped spinning, her hair was still in perfect position. Quite an accomplishment!

2) Next is what we're now calling the Roller Derby Diva outfit. I purchased this tutu, leg warmer, bow set from Sweetie Pie Couture. It received quite the workout today, let me tell you. And everything withstood Thing 4's constant activity beautifully! She skated, blew bubbles, played soccer, went on the slide, climbed the rock wall and more all while looking the part of the princess she so enjoys! Nothing snagged, nothing tore and this bow also passed the Spin Test! It's great to have an outfit that looks delicate and sweet, but can withstand a tough day with the Roller Derby Diva!

3) Last, but not least is an Easter Grab Bag I purchased from Little Princess Bow Boutique. It was fun opening the package and finding 3 cute bows inside! All passed the Spin Test with flying colors and all are unique in styles and colors so that they would work with a variety of outfits.

We highly recommend ALL 3 of these businesses! The owners were friendly, helpful and quick in shipping their items!

Enjoy!

I've missed this blog!

I'm juggling so many self-inflicted projects that I've neglected what gives me a little release...this blog! I'm currently in the process of revamping it a bit and will begin to promote it soon.

I've been entering a ton of blog/facebook giveaways attempting to win items to donate to some gift baskets we intend to sell drawing tickets for to raise money for American Cancer Society (well, items that Thing 4 doesn't claim as her own...the baskets will be lacking any and all princess items and hair accessories, I can already tell!). Since I'm finding all of these great giveaways, I think I'll be adding a page shortly for you all to find them in one place. Warning, they can be addicting! While I've won some awesome items it sometimes feels like a part time job entering all of them. :o)

As to other projects taking up my time, I've started an etsy shop! Also to raise money for the ACS. Of course our Relay for Life team has it's own blog which leads me to more projects...I have 4 blogs! The Relay for Life one is the one most updated. The other 3 are feeling a little neglected. Trying to remedy that.

Why do I have 4 blogs? Well, they're each unique in the role they play in my life. This one is about my life in general. Raven's Rascals is about our etsy shop, Relay for Life and fundraising. 80 in 08 is my weight loss blog (really need to get back to that one!) and Booze and Bacon Bliss is my culinary adventures with, well, booze and bacon (also, recently neglected which one would think would help with the weight loss, but no, not so much).

And if that's not enough, I've recently began Flylady again because I was so busy promoting the shop and working on fundraising and making items for fundraising that my house was becoming chaotic and cluttered. So, I'm currently in the declutter/spring cleaning mode.

Oh, one more thing, which will be an entire post to itself I'm sure when I have more time, is we're going to be celebrating Passover this year. I've never cooked lamb, or for that matter any of the other dishes I need to cook, but I'm willing to try!

Life is never dull...always an adventure in there somewhere! I just need to find balance because I never learned how to juggle!

Well, it is 2:18am! I'm not going to find balance by not getting any sleep.

It's 1:11am. Where are you?

I'm on the couch, sleepy, really wanting to go to bed. The problem? I'm locked out of my bedroom. Think Hubby's trying to tell me something? LOL Since he went to bed on good terms, I'm assuming it's a glitch in the thought process of someone who accidentally turned the lock. At any rate, I tried the butter knife trick to no avail. I would try the credit card trick, but my wallet is in the bedroom. I could of course knock on the door until he wakes up and lets me in, but that doesn't seem kind when he gets so little sleep as it is. And in fact his alarm will be going off in less than 3 hours at which time he'll wonder where I am, wander out here, wake me up, have a good chuckle over the whole thing and I'll get to crawl into bed and go back to sleep until my alarm goes off.

Balance in the family or The Butterfly Effect

I've witnessed a strange phenomenon today. This morning did not begin like a "usual" morning and for some reason that one act has had a butterfly effect on the entire household. I don't believe anyone is truly mad at anyone else in the house (at least not anymore), but we're all being short with each other and there's this almost palpable stress in the air which is heavy. For me, I actually feel physically exhausted carrying this stress and that's after an hour massage. I don't feel stressed, it's just what's in the air and it's oppressive.

I suppose the conclusion is that issues need to be discussed at the earliest possible time to "clear the air" (which after today has a new meaning to me). In our house, that has yet to happen, but I'm sure it will sometime soon. And then I'll be able to feel an actual weight being lifted off. I wonder if there is a way to lift this weight off yourself? Do you really need the other person involved to help? I guess you do because in weight training you should always have a spotter, why would stress weight be any different? I'm rambling, it's giving me something to do. I should probably go "clear the air", but I'm trying to decide if now is the best time. Trying to gauge how long it will take versus how long I have until company comes over. Maybe as a social experiment, since it's gone on this long, I should let it go and see if it affects company as well as household members. Think I could receive a grant to study this?

It's all in my head...or on it?

I'm currently suffering through a bout of lividness. (Wow, apparently that really is a word as my spell check didn't tag it!) I'm angry. Angrier than a beehive that's been thrown to the ground by a honey hungry bear. And that's not my usual demeanor. I'm normally patient, kind, mellow and laid back, but I can actually feel my blood pressure rising. Probably not a good thing. In fact, I want to throw something, stomp through the house, break things, punch things do anything to relieve some of this pent up anger. But since we're going through the whole teaching the children responsibility and maturity, it wouldn't behoove me to go ranting and raving through the house. Not such a good example of responsible maturity. So, I've decided to try blogging to release some pressure. In order to effectively blog about one's anger one must analyze it.

Right off the bat, I'm angry with Hubby. How dare he be able to sleep so peacefully. Can't he see the world is actually upside down right now and I need him to help turn it the right way up? I ended all my games, my facebook, my email, basically unplugged from the online world so we could spend our designated one hour together and I was able to have 21 minutes before he was out. We will eventually make it through the book we're reading together. Anyone have young children you need to put to sleep? I'll record my voice for you to play to them because it's so soothing they'll be out in no time...or 21 minutes to be exact. I just needed some time with him to unwind. To take a deep breath and have someone take care of me and my needs. But, upon further analysis, that's not really fair of me. I mean, he's tired. He worked late, didn't even have a chance to come into the house when he came home because we were all in the van waiting for him to drive us to the kids' activity, grocery store, dinner, etc. When we finally straggled back in from all of that, his time was spent with kids brushing teeth, homework, general getting ready for bed routine. No wonder he crashed. I might have, too. My conclusion on the Hubby anger: yes, I feel a little neglected, but my anger began way before that and it is always easier to take it out on the one you love most. In truth he deserves his rest, he works very hard for us. He's off the hook and I'll quit mentally cussing him out.

Hey, I think this is helping. Where were we? Oh, yeah. I was angry before I even saw Hubby. What else happened. I knew Hubby was going to be late tonight, so I was supervising the homework/chores solo and was on my way to prepare dinner. I reached up for a pot and noticed they were askew. When your children are responsible (I'm using this term lightly under the current circumstances) for cleaning the kitchen, it is not too unusual to see things not quite up to snuff. I reached for the pot, grabbed it, started to pull it down, when in a slow motion moment, I see the heavy pot lid gracefully flutter down coming to rest ever so gently on my head. NOT! That sucker is heavy and combined with gravity I don't care how hard of a head you have (and I have a hard head or at least I've been told I'm stubborn so I'm assuming it's the same thing) it hurts like the dickens!! Instant welling of tears, horrible headache, I stagger into the bedroom and just cry. (Note to self, if you're going to drop pot lids on your head and cry, make sure you don't watch a tear-jerker movie like Toy Story 3 earlier in the day. The double crying jags do nothing to make your eyes pretty.)

Once the pain had subsided enough so that I could make a coherent sentence come out of my mouth, I round up said children and ask who put the pots away incorrectly. I should learn of course that a mother who has been crying can look pretty scary, especially to the child responsible, because they all suffered with instant short term memory loss and had no clue which one of them did it. I asked each of them how to put the pots away the right way and they could all answer correctly. Someday I'll get a grant to find out where in the child's body the correct way of doing something gets lost from brain to limbs. Anyway, I then lose it. Start crying again and let them know that the chore lists took a long time to create. They were designed to make it easier on them. They just have to start at the top and work their way down the list. In turn this makes it easier on the parents as we don't have to sit there and babysit them while they're doing the chores. On and on. And on. I'm pretty sure they heard, "Blah, blah, blah, sniff. Blah, blah, sniff, sniff." Not one of my better moments, but I didn't yell and still maintained some semblance of outward calm even with the raging headache.

I proceed to fix dinner and serve them. I let them eat without me as I had no appetite and was looking for some sanctuary I could escape to. That only lasted for a few minutes. Thing 4 is a creature of habit and enjoys family meals and the sharing of the day. She came in and asked me in her really sweet, angelic, cute way to sit and visit with her while she ate. And since there was no way she could have been responsible for the pot lid mishap, how could I break her heart and say no. I joined her.

Of course by this time the other 3 were finished eating and moved on to after dinner chores one of which is put your own dish into the dishwasher. Thing 2 neglected to do this, so Thing 1 went to his room and asked him to put the dish in the dishwasher so she could finish the kitchen. He said he would when he felt like it. This went on for a few more verbal jabs when Thing 1 gave up, slammed Thing 2's door and stomped into the kitchen. I calmly leave the table, enter Thing 2's room and gently grab him by the ear, have him stand and send him to the kitchen. I promise, it was gentle and I said not a word (I'm patting myself on the back because I was still showing restraint and patience!). A mere 15 minutes later we're in the van awaiting Hubby. He did ask me after we dropped them off why they were so quiet in the van. Needless to say it was a somber evening before he showed up.

Turns out I don't have a bump on my noggin, I have a dent. Not sure if that's better or not. But in the anger analysis, I'm now willing to chalk this day up to a lost cause or better yet, a lesson in venting anger. No point in letting the anger continue to fester and ruin tomorrow, too. Because it's true what they say, no one can make you angry, you choose to be. Right now, I'm choosing to be sleepy.

What to do when you want to strangle the little monsters...

Alright, not as bad as all of that, but pretty much I've had it with Thing 2! I sometimes lose focus that it will get better. I sometimes lose focus that parenthood is hard work and that means sometimes you have to work hard.

Yesterday was one of those days. I do my parental duty and send them off to school with lunch money in hand. I'm thinking I'm doing great because I usually forget the lunch money at the beginning of the month. And not only did they have lunch money, I was dressed and ready to go workout. I was Super Mom...for one, brief, moment...in my imagination. The problem started when I went looking for the van keys. Looked in all the usual places starting with where they belonged working my way down to where they usually are. When no keys miraculously appeared, I thought about the last time I saw them. Ah ha! Hubby was the last one to drive the van...he must have lost them!

I search his coat and pants pockets. I look in the van (which is unlocked). Still no keys. I call him and ask if he saw them or perhaps put them in his computer bag...no such luck. But he was kind enough to drive home and bring me the extra van key so that I could make my chiro appointment and go shopping with my SIL (my workout was missed, but will be made up at a later date).

Then my SIL mentioned that Thing 2 went in the van to grab his sweatshirt (which is supposed to be taken out every time we come home, but that's a whole other story) to be dark for Halloween so he probably had the keys last. Back to searching, but this time thinking like a middle school boy. No luck, although I did take the time to open his window and air out his room. We figure we'll have to wait until he comes home from school to begin the inquisition, I mean questioning, so we continue with our plans.

Fast forward a few hours. Thing 2 arrives home from school and I ask him if he's seen the van keys. He immediately walks outside. I think great, he put them on the grill or the bench or the table, but no, he comes back inside and says, "I put them on the hood of Daddy's car." Really?!?!?! I'm thinking, the car that he's driven to work and back and then back to work again?!?!

Images of cartoon characters strangling their children flash in my mind, but I'm smart enough to know that my kids wouldn't bounce back quite the same so I take the high road and view it as an opportunity for a lesson in responsibility and maturity since just that morning he was peeved that I said he wasn't mature enough to have a digital camera.

I call Hubby to apprise him of the situation and he said, "Oh, that's what that noise was." Apparently on his way to work he heard something a lot heavier than the leaves fly off his vehicle. He gives me the general area he heard the noise, I round up Thing 2 (who at this point digs himself in further and mentions that I have keys so what's the big deal) and we take off in the pouring rain and wind to walk the busy highway to look for the van keys. After becoming drenched, we have found no keys and I'm fuming as he didn't even really help look, just acted like it was a leisurely stroll in the rain. Mistakes happen, but the fact that this child of mine is showing no remorse, no guilt, no anything is turning my face into the color of a ripe tomato.

We come home and I send him off to do his chores and homework. When Hubby arrives, we go back out and search a different area of the road. Still nothing. When we get back, Thing 2 is in his room because he doesn't like what's for dinner so he claims he had a big lunch and isn't hungry. Did I mention he's currently getting 2 C's in school? Anyway, in an effort to calm my furious brain, the wonderful man that Hubby is, explains that the child's brain is being taken over by hormonal aliens (my paraphrase, he was much more scientific about it, it just helps me to visualize my children are possessed rather than willingly behaving in such a manner) and he then changed the lock on the front door just to make me feel better. It helped, but I was still upset. This child is like Spirit the horse x 2! And I'm going to be the one to break him. And I will, but Hubby and I realized I wasn't in the right frame of mind at the moment to undertake this monumental task.

We're trying to decide what punishment should befall the losing of the keys. It's like a battle strategy. We currently have 3 battles going...the fight over food, the fight over grades, and the fight over owning up to your mistakes and saying sorry because in Thing 2's world everything is everyone else's fault.

Today with the battle strategy firmly in my head, I am ready to meet Thing 2 head on. I'm calm, confident and I'm going to win the war over the hormonal child. He will grow up to be respectful, kind and a productive member of society. So, 1st thing this morning before he could have anything else, he ate 2 bites of last night's dinner. Score 1 for Mommy! He's in for a long haul. I'm way more stubborn and I have the advantage of a battle plan! Well, at least with all this practice, I'll be a seasoned General in the hormone, pre-teen war when the next 2 hit it hard. :o)

Life without the "other" half

Ok, I admit it. My marriage is one of those gushy, touchy feely kind of things that routinely make my children tell us to get a room (to which we reply we own the house, it is our room.). After 16+ years of marriage the honeymoon ain't over for us. I suppose that if it isn't over yet, it never will be. We are in love! And as such, we actually enjoy spending time together. It doesn't have to be a lot of time, just knowing that we'll see each other at some time in the day is enough. Needless to say we haven't been apart all that much in our marriage. I can in fact count the number of times on one hand that we've been apart for more than 24 hours. I can't speak for Hubby, but I cease to be "fully" me when he's not around. He is currently on a business trip (thankfully this is my last of 4 nights without him...I'm FREEZING!!!) and I actually feel like half of me is missing. I even get phantom limb stuff going on. I saw his car in the driveway and was all excited that he was home, when duh, no he isn't (in my defense Thing 3 and Thing 4 did it, too!). I keep waiting for him to come in for dinner and he's not there. Based on this current experience, I want to give some kudos to a few people.

First, my wonderful Sister-in-law who decided to plan a week trip to visit us just at the same time as Hubby would be gone. She said it was to celebrate Thing 2's birthday and Halloween with us, and I'm willing to go along with that explanation to save my pride, but I secretly think she knew I'd be a mess (being only half a person and all) so decided to help out. And help she has! We've gone thrift store shopping everyday which has definitely made the days go faster, Thing 4 hasn't made me go deaf with the constant talking as she can split her time between two of us and I'm generally a much more sane person than if I had played the part of a single mom for a few days. It's comforting to know that I'm not the only responsible adult in the house.

Second kudos goes to the cat. It is no secret to anyone that I have an extremely difficult time sleeping without Hubby. On my recent weekend away (mind you for relaxation purposes for myself) I stayed up for 44 hours straight. Do you know your body starts acting drunk when you haven't slept in that long? And supposedly after 10 days of no sleep, you die? I was 1/5th of the way to death on my relaxing weekend! I digress. The cat is an indoor/outdoor cat with his outdoor time being at night because he will inevitably wake up in the middle of the morning, scratch his jingly collar and wake us up to go out. I've learned if I kick him out an hour before I go to bed, and then let him in, he can go all night snuggled next to me and at least keep my feet warm. Hubby asked if I was letting the cat sleep on his side of the bed. No, he literally sleeps on me. That's the downside, the cat is a bed hog! I feel a little bad for the cat though, because he took to sleeping inside at night like a fish would take to water. His bubble will be burst tomorrow when he has to go back outside. But it has been comforting having the cat with me.

Last, but most certainly not least MAJOR kudos go to military spouses! God bless you all! Every time I start feeling a little blue because I don't have Hubby home for a few days, I remember that you military spouses go months, even years without yours. I honestly think that I would perish. You all have a strength that I admire. You are the unsung heroes and I encourage anyone who knows a military spouse to help out in any way you can. Even if it's watching the kids for a while so they can have some down time. Treating them to a movie or something else fun. Anything to lighten their load just a little bit! I thank all of you military spouses for your service to our country! It is comforting to know that there are men and women able to be out there protecting us because of what you do and the sacrifices you make.

Only 18 hours and 15 minutes left! I can do it, I can do it, I can do it...

Love/Hate relationship with my oven

My oven and I have been having this on again, off again relationship since it entered my life 3 years ago. Sure, it makes wonderful goodies to treat me...chocolate chip cookies, french fries, full course Thanksgiving dinners...whatever I've asked of it, it has dutifully performed without so much as a whimper. The problems we started having began about a year ago when I, in one of my domestic moments (I really should realize that I'm domestically challenged and these "moments" can only lead to disaster) decided that I needed to clean the little grate looking thing behind the handle. But no matter how I approached it, I couldn't reach in there to clean it out. No problem I thought. I'm a woman, a Domestic Engineer (Hubby is probably laughing at this point), I can figure this out! I carefully look at the door's construction and see several screws. I pick 2 that look like the screws that belong to the handle, grab my screwdriver and begin to unscrew. What happened next is kind of a blur, but when my vision cleared, I was looking at my oven door, glass and all lying on the floor looking rather pathetic. Those 2 screws were apparently holding the entire door onto place. Whoopsie! I tried valiantly to put my friend back together, but like Humpty Dumpty, it just wasn't happening. Realizing that I needed to break down and call in the experts, I picked up the phone, prepared myself for the laughter and called Hubby. We won't go into all the details of the conversation (lots of laughter with an undertone of exasperation was involved ). When he came home that night, we put it back together again (fortunately for the oven door, it wasn't completely like Humpty. It only took 3 of us to put it back together again). No worse for wear, the oven door looked just fine and had a thorough cleaning while apart. I, however, was banned from ever using a screwdriver to take anything apart again. I am still allowed to put things together with a screwdriver. Anyway, I don't think the oven realized that the door episode was done with the best of intentions. I didn't mean to hurt it. But in hindsight I believe it felt such shame and humiliation at being disrobed for a day that it sat in diabolical quietness waiting for the right moment to strike.

Which leads us to this week. There's this little button on the oven called Auto-Clean. I've always looked at the button and wondered, "Is it too good to be true?" "Would it really work?" It took 3 years to muster up the courage to push that button (and realizing that if I didn't just push a button, I'd have to actually spray with oven cleaner, scrub, etc.). 3 years, endless amounts of grease and food stuck on the bottom and finally admitting defeat when I couldn't bake anything without having one of the kids on standby to wave a paper plate by the smoke detector just so I could open the door and pull the food out. Ok, I didn't admit defeat that quickly, the kid/paper plate thing has been going on for well over a year, but hey on the bright side, we've never needed to check the batteries on the smoke detector...works just fine. So, it really was just another domestic moment (that I still haven't learned spells doom for me) that inspired me to push that button. Now the self-cleaning feature could go anywhere from 2.5 hours to 4.5 hours depending on how dirty it was. I set it for 4.5 hours since it had never been done. About 30 minutes into it (oven door's locked mind you) I see fire. It wasn't constant, rather pretty actually, a lick of flame would shoot from one side of the oven to the other in a sort of dance. And each time that happened a puff of smoke would shoot out the front, the oven's attempt to blow smoke rings I suppose. I quickly opened all the windows and turned on the attic fan in an attempt to not have to listen to the smoke detector all day. I was keeping a close eye on the oven wondering if flames are a normal by-product of pushing the Auto-Clean button when Hubby came home for lunch. After the laughter subsided, we googled self-cleaning ovens and fire and pretty much came up empty handed. We made the decision to let it go. The flames weren't continuous like a true fire and we figured after the 1st layer of grease burned off it should be fine. It took 1 hour for the oven to quit flaming and smoking. After 5 hours it had cooled enough for me to vacuum/wipe it out. We had forgotten it was blue inside!

The next day I made fish sticks and the children started complaining. "Mommy, what are you making for dinner that smells so bad?" I walk in the kitchen and explain to them that what they are smelling are the fish sticks and that's how they're supposed to smell. When they were finished, I opened the door without having a child on standby, no smoke or anything. We tasted the fish sticks and could only taste fish stick, no added smokey flavor.

While I didn't burn the house down, I think the oven has proved a point. It would really appreciate more ongoing maintenance and in return I sure hope it decides to give me a break the next time a domestic moment causes me to look its way!

The Voices in My Head

Anyone else experience voices in their head? Or play pretend even though you're a grown adult?

I do. I have good voices and bad voices. I get to choose who to listen to. Most of the time I try to listen to the good ones. It's a little easier on everyone around. Sometimes the bad ones are louder and more obnoxious (they are bad after all). I will literally have arguments in my head with my justification voices. The ones that say,"One time won't hurt." It could be any number of things. Anyway, lest you think I'm not crazy enough let's add the pretending factor in.

Sometimes I will pretend I'm someone else to get through the chores and other stuff I have to do in a day. For housework, I'm often the manager of a bed and breakfast or fancy hotel. I will have conversations with pretend customers and solve their pretend problems all while making sure the hotel is in tip top shape. For getting into shape, I pretend I'm a dancer in training to be on stage and have to work really hard to meet my goals. Sometimes, I'm a spy living as a housewife for cover purposes. Am I the only one out there who does this? Maybe I AM crazy!

Oh, well. I guess if it helps me get in shape, clean the house and cope with the every day tasks, it can't be too bad. I realize I'm pretending, so I'm not delusional. But I often wonder if it's a sign that I'm dissatisfied with my life or I need more of a challenge. Maybe I'll never figure it out.

If you see me talking to myself in my dark sunglasses and pink tutu toting a briefcase, just pretend you never saw me!

"Mommy, can you wipe my poo-poo?"

There it is...did you hear it? That knock, knock, knock on my bedroom door. Shh, there it is again.

"Who is it?" I ask (although I already know the answer 99% of the time).

"It's me, can I come in?" asks the preschooler.

"What do you need?" I ask, wishing that my bedroom could be some sort of sanctuary where I could hide and "they" couldn't find me.

"I need to go potty." comes Thing 4's answer.

"Alright, come in." I say, knowing that should an accident occur, whatever hope I had for peace will take that much longer to obtain because of the mess I'd have to clean up.

Now, I'm not sure why it must be my bathroom. I guess it's because it is in close proximity to me, the butt wiper, because two minutes later after listening to the grunts and groans of pushing I hear, "Mommy, can you wipe my poo-poo?"

I view this as an opportunity for a lesson in the English language. "Honey, I'm not going to wipe your poo-poo, that would be gross. I will, however, wipe your bum and make sure you're all cleaned up." (I know, not really much less gross, but it is something.)

It doesn't matter, this episode plays out several times a day (who knew such a little butt could produce so much poo!) and it's ALWAYS the same question, "Mommy, can you wipe my poo-poo?"

I suppose this is one of those moments that I'll look back on and reminisce with misty eyes when they're all grown up. I most certainly can't use it on a resume should I ever attempt to join the workforce later.

Job Title: Butt Wiper
Job Description: Wiping poo-poo off of butts. Anyone can be an Ass Kisser, but it takes someone special to be a Butt Wiper!

Nope, don't see that as a plan for success.

Mom Thought - Epitome of Multi-Tasking

As I try to get this blog back up and running, I'm fielding questions from Thing 4, like, "Please can we read this book?", "Is Santa coming in December?", "Here's a letter for him." "Are the kids almost home?", "Hey, Mommy look at this!", "Mommy, why is my finger white?" and it keeps going, on and on and on and on.

I'm playing online games, mentally preparing myself for the invasion of Thing 2 and Thing 3 coming home and therefore the routine of emptying backpacks, hanging up jackets, snacks, homework, chores. Then Thing 1 comes home and the snack/homework/chore thing happens again. Then I'll add in getting dinner going, all the while I'm checking the homework/chores, still playing my online games (need an escape, right?), still answering the endless stream of questions from Thing 4 (I wonder if she'll ever know that it's not normal for a 60 second delay between question and answer?) hoping I don't give her permission to burn the house down or something else just as drastic and dangerous as I'm only giving her a small amount of my attention.

I believe that womanfolk in general have a great ability to multi-task. If my husband is any example, men in general lack this ability (evidenced by the fact that he at one time did give permission for a small child to play with a sharp knife!). But I also think that there is a cost associated with this ability. While I'm in multi-task mode, no one or nothing gets my undivided attention. This can lead to mistakes being made, feelings being hurt, miscommunications, etc. I think it would be better to do less multi-tasking and give everyone and everything the attention it deserves. Maybe that means that I play less online games (or only play them when everyone else is otherwise occupied). Maybe it means making a schedule where I know what the priority of the day is at any given time. I'm open to suggestions on how to do less multi-tasking and relieving some stress!

I think that by slowing down, it benefits everyone. Kids feel special because they know they have my full attention. Projects get finished because they've had my full attention. I'm pretty sure it would be impossible to eliminate multi-tasking altogether, but I think I can make improvements. I don't need to be Super Mom able to do everything without ever getting a hair out of place, never saying no to anyone, always perfect in appearance and attitude...it's not going to happen even if I wanted it to.

I'm going to make it a goal to seek out ways to lessen my multi-tasking. Who's with me? I'm pretty sure the world won't come to a crashing halt if we all slow down a bit...I mean, just think of all the houses we can save by listening to the preschooler and not giving them permission to burn it down!

Definition of a Homemaker

Call me Homemaker. Now a homemaker probably conjures up images of laundry, dishes, cleaning up after kids, etc. While all of that is involved most definitely, a homemaker is far more than just a housekeeper. A homemaker's job is to turn a house into a home. This is accomplished by making sure your home is a pleasant place to be for everyone. It doesn't have to be spotless, in fact, mine almost never is. Go ahead, run your white glove over any surface and I can guarantee that you'll find dust. But what we lack in cleanliness, (mind you , it's not a pig sty, just not spotless) we make up for in the warm fuzzies.

How do we make the warm fuzzies happen? Well, it's not by being the best of hostesses, I can tell you. I rarely remember to offer people drinks, take their coats, etc. Hubby will remember these things (he's been raised right!). But I think the warm fuzzies happen because we go out of our way to make sure that they know that our house is their house. Mi Casa es Su Casa.

These are our Company rules:
1. If I know you're coming and my front door is unlocked, don't knock, come on in. This is your home away from home. Why would you knock at your own home?
2. Please help yourself to anything you'd like in the kitchen. Glasses are right there, food and drink are in the fridge and cupboards.
3. Something spilled? Something's broken? Don't worry about it. Accidents happen and it's only material items that can be cleaned or replaced. I much more enjoy your company than anything else. YOU are what's important to me.

Fill the house with love. Love can cover a multitude of faults. While our kids complain A LOT about the chores they're forced to do, they know without a shadow of a doubt that they're loved. They know without a shadow of a doubt that Mommy and Daddy love each other (they're constantly telling us to get a room!). When everyone feels loved, they want to be in the home. Case in point, while Thing 1 has a ton of friends, she spends most of her weekends home with us. If asked she'd probably come up with some other reason why she doesn't hang out with her friends, but I firmly believe it's because she genuinely enjoys being with her family. She feels loved.

I think people can sense a tranquil and loving home when they enter into it. And we all crave love and tranquility.

I want my house to be a relaxing haven. The good news is that to achieve this sanctuary of warmth, I don't have to be Martha Stewart perfect...people tend to be more at ease anyway when they see your house is just like their house...imperfections and all. Let go and make your house a home today!