My dad was a minister. He once told me that every time he prayed for patience, something bad would happen. He eventually reached the conclusion that God would send him tribulation in order to teach him patience.
Now, whenever we have a trying time, my husband jokes that I was secretly praying for patience. Needless to say, this is one of those times.
Little G. has decided that 15 minute power naps are the way to go. He is Super Baby - impervious to the effects of the infant swing, which puts mere mortal babies into a deep soporific state. It seems that the only way to get him to take a longer nap is to go for a car ride. Of course, when I'm driving the baby in the car to get him to sleep, all of those little things like laundry, dirty dishes, dusting, and clutter-busting don't get done. Let's not even mention the cost of keeping gas in the tank. Lately the way I've been keeping the family in clean clothes is to put a load in at bedtime and then getting up around 5:00 a.m. to put it in the dryer. This way the clothes are dry and unwrinkled for school/work. Of course if the power happens to go out, I'll be sunk.
So here's the deal: God, if you're listening, I don't need any more patience at the moment. ;)
Friday, November 09, 2007
Thursday, November 08, 2007
The Internet Is Forever
I've been reading over some other blogs on the Internet, and it never ceases to amaze me how little privacy people afford their children when writing about them. I've chosen to use initials when talking about my kids. I also am careful about what I write about them. Once you put something on the net, it's there. You can take it down, but there's no telling how many people have passed it on before you decided to remove it.
Since my oldest daughter has a form of autism known as Asperger's Disorder, I read a lot of autism blogs. I just can't believe how freely people write about the intimate details of their kids' meltdowns, problems with toilet training older kids, and other very private things. So many people make no effort to hide their names or the names of their kids. I do post on some private boards, but even then I try to protect my daughter's privacy while trying to help others or trying to find help with some of the difficulties of having an autistic child.
I think people don't think about what's going to happen to their kid when they hit middle or high school and somebody Google's their name. Can you imagine how you would have felt in middle school if someone in your class found out that your parent wrote about what a giant pain you were at four and how they couldn't stand you? Or if you found out that when you were five your mom wrote all about your incontinence or nosepicking? Kids in school can be very cruel, and I think a lot of us moms with the best of intentions are giving future bullies tons of fodder.
Remember moms, the Internet is forever.
Since my oldest daughter has a form of autism known as Asperger's Disorder, I read a lot of autism blogs. I just can't believe how freely people write about the intimate details of their kids' meltdowns, problems with toilet training older kids, and other very private things. So many people make no effort to hide their names or the names of their kids. I do post on some private boards, but even then I try to protect my daughter's privacy while trying to help others or trying to find help with some of the difficulties of having an autistic child.
I think people don't think about what's going to happen to their kid when they hit middle or high school and somebody Google's their name. Can you imagine how you would have felt in middle school if someone in your class found out that your parent wrote about what a giant pain you were at four and how they couldn't stand you? Or if you found out that when you were five your mom wrote all about your incontinence or nosepicking? Kids in school can be very cruel, and I think a lot of us moms with the best of intentions are giving future bullies tons of fodder.
Remember moms, the Internet is forever.
Wednesday, November 07, 2007
Enviro Rant
Okay, I've been fed up with the politicization of the environment for a long time, but now they're just going too far. Throwing environmental preaching into football, interviewing 5 year olds about what they're doing for the environment - it's just too much!
Unfortunately, so many sheeple (sheep + people for those who think it's a typo) have bought into the global warming mindset it's mind boggling. I can understand how so many under the age of 35 have bought into it, but those of us old enough to remember the 1970s should be laughing in hysterics at Al Gore, Paul Erlich, and their ilk. We should also be teaching those younger than us who have no historic perspective, and who have been indoctrinated by an increasingly failing public school system.
I was just a kid back in the 70s, but I can remember all the hysteria over the coming Ice Age. Yes, that's right, just 30 short years ago scientists and the news media were predicting another Ice Age, and I'm not talking about the movie. Newsweek Magazine featured articles about it and even had it on the cover of an issue. NOVA, the PBS science show, covered it. I can even remember an episode of Barney Miller, where it was brought up during the show. (I don't watch Barney Miller re-runs, but I'm sure they probably never play that one.)
Here's the dirty little secret: the air quality during the 1970s was horrible. We only had the big 3 networks back then, and California air quality was always featured on them during the evening news, because the smog was so bad, much worse than it is today. Pittsburgh during the 70s was practically enveloped in a black, sooty cloud. During the summertime in Washington, DC the area was constantly hazy. We drove cars with fully leaded gasoline. Unleaded gas could still be found right up until the very end of the 1980s. The former U.S.S.R., China, and India were huge polluters. China and India still are. I suspect that Russia still is, but I can't state that one unequivocally. Believe me when I say the carbon footprint 30 years ago, when it was much colder, was much larger than it is today. If history guides us, then logically we should want more pollution to cool us down. For those who don't get that last statement, I'm being facetious. I don't want dirty air or water any more than the next person.
The simple fact of the matter is that earth's temperatures are cyclical in nature. The earth has had warming and cooling periods over the millennia. Historically, all of mankind's great advancement has come during warming periods, and it's declines have been during the cooling periods. For example, the Dark Ages were during a cooling period.
I would really appreciate it if you would just leave us in peace to watch our football games and not preach to us about the environment. Leave our 5 year olds alone. We don't need to scare 5 year olds about the environment. Let them have their innocence and just enjoy being 5. They'll have enough to worry about once they're grown, and they'll grow up soon enough!
Unfortunately, so many sheeple (sheep + people for those who think it's a typo) have bought into the global warming mindset it's mind boggling. I can understand how so many under the age of 35 have bought into it, but those of us old enough to remember the 1970s should be laughing in hysterics at Al Gore, Paul Erlich, and their ilk. We should also be teaching those younger than us who have no historic perspective, and who have been indoctrinated by an increasingly failing public school system.
I was just a kid back in the 70s, but I can remember all the hysteria over the coming Ice Age. Yes, that's right, just 30 short years ago scientists and the news media were predicting another Ice Age, and I'm not talking about the movie. Newsweek Magazine featured articles about it and even had it on the cover of an issue. NOVA, the PBS science show, covered it. I can even remember an episode of Barney Miller, where it was brought up during the show. (I don't watch Barney Miller re-runs, but I'm sure they probably never play that one.)
Here's the dirty little secret: the air quality during the 1970s was horrible. We only had the big 3 networks back then, and California air quality was always featured on them during the evening news, because the smog was so bad, much worse than it is today. Pittsburgh during the 70s was practically enveloped in a black, sooty cloud. During the summertime in Washington, DC the area was constantly hazy. We drove cars with fully leaded gasoline. Unleaded gas could still be found right up until the very end of the 1980s. The former U.S.S.R., China, and India were huge polluters. China and India still are. I suspect that Russia still is, but I can't state that one unequivocally. Believe me when I say the carbon footprint 30 years ago, when it was much colder, was much larger than it is today. If history guides us, then logically we should want more pollution to cool us down. For those who don't get that last statement, I'm being facetious. I don't want dirty air or water any more than the next person.
The simple fact of the matter is that earth's temperatures are cyclical in nature. The earth has had warming and cooling periods over the millennia. Historically, all of mankind's great advancement has come during warming periods, and it's declines have been during the cooling periods. For example, the Dark Ages were during a cooling period.
I would really appreciate it if you would just leave us in peace to watch our football games and not preach to us about the environment. Leave our 5 year olds alone. We don't need to scare 5 year olds about the environment. Let them have their innocence and just enjoy being 5. They'll have enough to worry about once they're grown, and they'll grow up soon enough!
Monday, November 05, 2007
The Dinner Table
Thanks to the time change screwing up the baby's schedule, such as it is, we had one of those rare dinners where the baby was asleep. I was actually able to sit at the dinner table like a normal person without the baby attached.
Other than the fact that I was sitting in my chair without the baby in my arms, it was a fairly typical dinner. S. F. was sitting at the table dissecting a pea instead of eating it. S. D. was being a typical 4 year old, not eating the chicken-a-la-king that a couple of weeks ago she would have gobbled up in seconds. G. and I were trying to get S. D. to use her inside voice at the table. Little G. is an incredibly light sleeper, and G. and I were hoping for us to get through the meal without his waking up.
Of course S. D. was having none of the inside voice thing. She's a very joyous child, and for whatever reason, last night she was especially so. Perhaps she was picking up on our good mood because the Redskins barely eked out a win. Whatever it was, no matter how many times we asked her to turn down the volume, 10 seconds later she was back to using her loud, happy voice instead of the quiet one. Finally G. had had it, and he really scolded her. She immediately ducked down under the table. We decided to ignore her and went on with the rest of our dinner. After a minute or two she peeked out from the table, looked in her dad's direction, realized the coast was clear, smiled impishly and said, "Whew!" That did it. We all broke up, and of course she did several encores of her, "Whew!" which sent us all into peals of laughter. Amazingly the baby slept through it all for once.
Of course tonight when the baby was wide awake, she did a great job of using her inside voice. ;p
Other than the fact that I was sitting in my chair without the baby in my arms, it was a fairly typical dinner. S. F. was sitting at the table dissecting a pea instead of eating it. S. D. was being a typical 4 year old, not eating the chicken-a-la-king that a couple of weeks ago she would have gobbled up in seconds. G. and I were trying to get S. D. to use her inside voice at the table. Little G. is an incredibly light sleeper, and G. and I were hoping for us to get through the meal without his waking up.
Of course S. D. was having none of the inside voice thing. She's a very joyous child, and for whatever reason, last night she was especially so. Perhaps she was picking up on our good mood because the Redskins barely eked out a win. Whatever it was, no matter how many times we asked her to turn down the volume, 10 seconds later she was back to using her loud, happy voice instead of the quiet one. Finally G. had had it, and he really scolded her. She immediately ducked down under the table. We decided to ignore her and went on with the rest of our dinner. After a minute or two she peeked out from the table, looked in her dad's direction, realized the coast was clear, smiled impishly and said, "Whew!" That did it. We all broke up, and of course she did several encores of her, "Whew!" which sent us all into peals of laughter. Amazingly the baby slept through it all for once.
Of course tonight when the baby was wide awake, she did a great job of using her inside voice. ;p
Saturday, November 03, 2007
Luxury
As I was savoring a rare, uninterrupted, 15 minute shower this morning I began to think, "Isn't it amazing how once you have children, your definition of luxury changes?"
A luxurious bath experience once meant 30 - 45 minutes in a hot, bubble bath with a glass of wine or cup of hot tea/coffee, listening to relaxing music on the radio. Now a luxurious bath experience is a hot shower before noon that lasts longer than 10 minutes and doesn't include children banging on the door, passing notes under the door, or hearing the baby cry as soon as you get lathered up.
Having a luxurious dinner involved a nice restaurant, a glass or two of wine, an appetizer, a delicious entree, and lingering over coffee or dessert while having a stimulating conversation with my husband and/or friends. A luxurious dinner now means getting to sit down while the food is still somewhat warm, getting to eat without a baby in my lap, and not having to get up or cut anyone else's food during dinner.
A luxurious bedtime experience used to mean going to bed with my husband, you fill in the blanks, sleeping late into the morning, and eventually getting up once the morning drowsiness wore off and the need for caffeine kicked in. Now it means going to bed and getting 5 - 6 hours of sleep before the baby awakens.
The interesting thing is, I appreciate and enjoy the type of luxurious moments I have now, post children, much more than the type I used to have.
A luxurious bath experience once meant 30 - 45 minutes in a hot, bubble bath with a glass of wine or cup of hot tea/coffee, listening to relaxing music on the radio. Now a luxurious bath experience is a hot shower before noon that lasts longer than 10 minutes and doesn't include children banging on the door, passing notes under the door, or hearing the baby cry as soon as you get lathered up.
Having a luxurious dinner involved a nice restaurant, a glass or two of wine, an appetizer, a delicious entree, and lingering over coffee or dessert while having a stimulating conversation with my husband and/or friends. A luxurious dinner now means getting to sit down while the food is still somewhat warm, getting to eat without a baby in my lap, and not having to get up or cut anyone else's food during dinner.
A luxurious bedtime experience used to mean going to bed with my husband, you fill in the blanks, sleeping late into the morning, and eventually getting up once the morning drowsiness wore off and the need for caffeine kicked in. Now it means going to bed and getting 5 - 6 hours of sleep before the baby awakens.
The interesting thing is, I appreciate and enjoy the type of luxurious moments I have now, post children, much more than the type I used to have.
Thursday, November 01, 2007
At Least I Won't Starve
Today when it was time to go pick S. D. up from pre-school, I couldn't find my keys anywhere. After frantically searching the house, I remembered that G. had been using my keys when we drove to our friends' house for trick-or-treating with the kids, and that he'd used his keys on the way home. Much to my horror, I realized that either my keys were locked in the car or were left at our friends' home. I called G. to ask him if he knew where my keys were, on the off chance he'd set them down somewhere I hadn't thought to look. Of course, no luck there. We finally reached the conclusion that he'd have to come home and let me into the car to see if they were in there.
I called the school to let them know that I would be late and why. Thank goodness for after care! Then I set about looking for the keys and moving things around with one hand while toting the baby around with the other. Finally G. showed up and opened the car. No keys in the console, side of the door, glove compartment or on the floor of the front seat! G. gave me his set and off I went to the school to pick up S. D. while he headed back to work.
At the end of the school driveway, who should I see leaving the school, non other than the friend who probably had my keys sitting on her kitchen table/counter. I stopped, rolled my window down, and told her what was up. She told me that they hadn't seen them anywhere. These are very neat people; they don't live in Clutterland as we do, so I figured that if she didn't notice them, they must be somewhere in the car, I just needed to search again.
After getting S. D. I realized that there wasn't enough time for me to go home and get back in time to pick up S. F. so I drove around hoping and praying that Little G. would stay asleep until it was time to get his other big sister. Luckily, he did. Of course those little eyes popped open the instant she got into the car, but amazingly he stayed in a good mood until we got home.
As soon as it was possible to put him down after we got home, I went out to resume my search. I decided not to limit the search to just the front seat where the adults sit. I thought, "How long can it take? The car was thoroughly cleaned before we went on vacation in August. It shouldn't take long to search." HAH!
As I looked in the back of the car, I began to get thoroughly annoyed with my girls, especially with S. F. the twelve year old. I allow my kids to snack in the car. I believe it helps to expedite the homework process. If they eat their snack on the way home, then they can get straight to the homework once they get in the house. At least that's the theory, admittedly it doesn't always happen that way in practice.
I was under the impression that S. F. had been gathering up most of the trash and pitching it when we got home. I figured there woud be a couple of things under the seat, but I didn't expect it to be as bad as it was right before my annual vacation car cleanup. Apparently she's been storing most of the trash under the seat, even though each afternoon I see her taking trash to the trashcan in the driveway. (note to self - find out what exactly she is throwing away)
I did eventually find my keys on the third seat of the car. Apparently they had fallen out of G.'s pocket when he was getting the girls into the very back of the car.
After being really annoyed with the girls for a while about all the junk that they've shoved under the seats of my car, I decided to look on the bright side. I realized that between all of the half eaten Oreos, half drunk bottles of water, partial fruit roll-ups, and of course mold growing on some of these, I'll be well taken care of if I'm ever in a car accident where I'm trapped and they can't find me for a few days. I'll be able to eat, drink, and make my own antibiotics until help arrives. ;)
I called the school to let them know that I would be late and why. Thank goodness for after care! Then I set about looking for the keys and moving things around with one hand while toting the baby around with the other. Finally G. showed up and opened the car. No keys in the console, side of the door, glove compartment or on the floor of the front seat! G. gave me his set and off I went to the school to pick up S. D. while he headed back to work.
At the end of the school driveway, who should I see leaving the school, non other than the friend who probably had my keys sitting on her kitchen table/counter. I stopped, rolled my window down, and told her what was up. She told me that they hadn't seen them anywhere. These are very neat people; they don't live in Clutterland as we do, so I figured that if she didn't notice them, they must be somewhere in the car, I just needed to search again.
After getting S. D. I realized that there wasn't enough time for me to go home and get back in time to pick up S. F. so I drove around hoping and praying that Little G. would stay asleep until it was time to get his other big sister. Luckily, he did. Of course those little eyes popped open the instant she got into the car, but amazingly he stayed in a good mood until we got home.
As soon as it was possible to put him down after we got home, I went out to resume my search. I decided not to limit the search to just the front seat where the adults sit. I thought, "How long can it take? The car was thoroughly cleaned before we went on vacation in August. It shouldn't take long to search." HAH!
As I looked in the back of the car, I began to get thoroughly annoyed with my girls, especially with S. F. the twelve year old. I allow my kids to snack in the car. I believe it helps to expedite the homework process. If they eat their snack on the way home, then they can get straight to the homework once they get in the house. At least that's the theory, admittedly it doesn't always happen that way in practice.
I was under the impression that S. F. had been gathering up most of the trash and pitching it when we got home. I figured there woud be a couple of things under the seat, but I didn't expect it to be as bad as it was right before my annual vacation car cleanup. Apparently she's been storing most of the trash under the seat, even though each afternoon I see her taking trash to the trashcan in the driveway. (note to self - find out what exactly she is throwing away)
I did eventually find my keys on the third seat of the car. Apparently they had fallen out of G.'s pocket when he was getting the girls into the very back of the car.
After being really annoyed with the girls for a while about all the junk that they've shoved under the seats of my car, I decided to look on the bright side. I realized that between all of the half eaten Oreos, half drunk bottles of water, partial fruit roll-ups, and of course mold growing on some of these, I'll be well taken care of if I'm ever in a car accident where I'm trapped and they can't find me for a few days. I'll be able to eat, drink, and make my own antibiotics until help arrives. ;)
Can You Believe It's November?
Halloween is over! :)
S. F. decided to be a panda bear for Halloween. We forgot about stuffing the costume with a pillow, and since we were over at a friends' house to trick-0r-treat, she looked more like a severely anorexic panda.
The kids had a great time. S. D. in her skunk costume charmed everyone with her excessive cuteness. Of course we had the obligatory touching of her curly hair by total strangers. I think we'll have to enroll her in martial arts classes soon. ;)
Of course we forgot to take our camera, so I'm going to have to make them dress up this weekend in order to get photos. Thank goodness that Halloween is on a Friday next year. Thank you Leap Year. I hate it when Halloween is on a week night. Even though the kids were angels last night, they were a bit testy and tired this morning. All in all it's pretty good though.
On to Thanksgiving and Christmas!
S. F. decided to be a panda bear for Halloween. We forgot about stuffing the costume with a pillow, and since we were over at a friends' house to trick-0r-treat, she looked more like a severely anorexic panda.
The kids had a great time. S. D. in her skunk costume charmed everyone with her excessive cuteness. Of course we had the obligatory touching of her curly hair by total strangers. I think we'll have to enroll her in martial arts classes soon. ;)
Of course we forgot to take our camera, so I'm going to have to make them dress up this weekend in order to get photos. Thank goodness that Halloween is on a Friday next year. Thank you Leap Year. I hate it when Halloween is on a week night. Even though the kids were angels last night, they were a bit testy and tired this morning. All in all it's pretty good though.
On to Thanksgiving and Christmas!
Tuesday, October 30, 2007
Yea! I'm Accomplishing Something!
Here it is the night before Halloween, and I'm finishing up my eldest's costume, baking cupcakes for my middle one's Halloween party, and freezing food I cooked tonight for the next few nights. This feels like the most I've accomplished in weeks.
For the past month and a half it seems like all I've done is transport one child or another back and forth to the pediatrician or orthopedist. The baby and the four year old keep getting ear infections, and we keep having to tinker with the baby's Zantac dosage since he has acid reflux. S. F. broke her wrist playing field hockey. Now she's getting an orthosis, which is a fancy word for back brace, to try to halt the progression of her scoliosis. I think if the kid gets anymore x-rays she's either going to glow in the dark or develop super powers.
Thank goodness I don't have to take anyone to the doctor again until next month when the kids get their flu shots, and S.F. goes back for her next orthosis adjustment. Wait a minute, next month is the day after tomorrow. Oh well, maybe I'll get a break from being the super chauffeur after the New Year. ;)
I will say it does feel good to produce something you can see. The cooked food in the 'fridge, the cupcakes cooling on the counter, and the costume drying on dining room table (gotta love that fabric glue) do make me feel better. Now if I could just make the dishes magically get clean.
For the past month and a half it seems like all I've done is transport one child or another back and forth to the pediatrician or orthopedist. The baby and the four year old keep getting ear infections, and we keep having to tinker with the baby's Zantac dosage since he has acid reflux. S. F. broke her wrist playing field hockey. Now she's getting an orthosis, which is a fancy word for back brace, to try to halt the progression of her scoliosis. I think if the kid gets anymore x-rays she's either going to glow in the dark or develop super powers.
Thank goodness I don't have to take anyone to the doctor again until next month when the kids get their flu shots, and S.F. goes back for her next orthosis adjustment. Wait a minute, next month is the day after tomorrow. Oh well, maybe I'll get a break from being the super chauffeur after the New Year. ;)
I will say it does feel good to produce something you can see. The cooked food in the 'fridge, the cupcakes cooling on the counter, and the costume drying on dining room table (gotta love that fabric glue) do make me feel better. Now if I could just make the dishes magically get clean.
Sunday, October 28, 2007
The Saga of the Addition(s)
Doctor: You're pregnant.
Me: Are you sure?
Doctor: Yes.
Me: You mean it isn't early menopause?
Doctor: No, you're pregnant.
Me: What do you mean it isn't early menopause?! (Even though I'd done a home pregnancy test, I was still in just a little bit of denial. Can you tell?)
Fourteen months ago my husband, G., and I found out we were to have another child. This news came as quite a shock, because I wasn't supposed to be able to have more children. Our four year old exists solely because of IVF. The fertility doctor who performed my surgery prior to going through IVF and the IVF itself apparently is as great as he thinks he is, since we got pregnant with S. D. on the first cycle, and we got pregnant naturally 3 years later.
G. accepted it a lot quicker than I did. After his initial, "Holy cow! How are we going to afford to have another kid, and where will he sleep?" reaction, he was absolutely overjoyed.
Call me selfish, but I had come to terms with the idea of not having anymore children and was looking forward to going back to school and getting a part time job once S.D. started school full time. I mourned the news for a month, meaning I cried every time I was in the shower where no one could hear me. I had just gotten back into decent shape. I was up to 175 crunches a day, and I was doing 11.5 miles on the exercise bike 5 times a week. I was also upset because I'm not one of those women who have easy pregnancies; the prospect of lots of bed rest with a 3 year old running around the house was not a happy thought. If you ever need to know anything about hyperemesis, anencephaly, polyhydramnios, or incarcerated uterus's, I'm your gal.
It actually took having some spotting for me to realize that I really, really wanted this little baby. Don't get me wrong, terminating was never an option. I knew that once he/she got here that I'd love him/her as much my others. I was just mourning the loss of the future I'd come to envision. As soon as I was faced with the idea of losing the baby, I knew that I had to do everything possible to make certain he/she got here safely. Now that he's here, I am absolutely in love with this adorable little guy, and can't imagine life without him. What was I thinking?
Talking about this cute, adorable, little addition to our family brings me to the topic of the other addition we're trying to cope with.
After the initial shock of having another child wore off, we realized that our current home as is, simply isn't big enough. Of course, we also found out about our little guy's imminent arrival just when the real estate market started to tank in our area. Moving also came with it's own set of problems. Our 12 year old with Asperger's Disorder doesn't cope well with change. We figured the arrival of another child was enough for her to deal with, let alone moving to a completely different neighborhood. Also, in order to sell our house, we would have had to live in our camper to show it; otherwise we would never be able to sell it. Since having children, clutter seems to have become our natural habitat. There is also the problem of all of the 2/3 finished projects around the house that would need to be completed ASAP.
We decided that the best course of action was to build an addition to our current home. The fun is just beginning. First we had to find an architect and decide on the plans. This took a little longer than we expected. Now that we have the plans, we're dealing with the joy of finding a contractor.
When we first came to the decision to add on to our house, we thought we knew what contractor we'd use. The same honest, trustworthy builder who built not only my MIL and FIL's addition, but also my BIL's addition. This guy is great! Imagine our horror when my husband contacted him only to find out that he'd gotten out of the business. He told my husband that he'd gotten out, because he was tired of dealing with all of the sharks in the business. He wished us luck in finding that most rare of all things, an honest contractor.
We now have bids ranging from $160,000 - $300,000. (Yes, we live in the suburbs of a major city, meaning higher prices.) When the guy called me with the $300,000 quote, I actually laughed at him and asked if he was planning to use platinum as a building material. We could move 30 minutes away from where we are and have a four bedroom house for $350,000 - granted it would be on a postage stamp sized lot, but $300,000 for our little addition is a bit much. I think I offended him, because we haven't heard a peep from him since.
Then there's the contractor that told us he'd get a quote to us within a week. Five weeks later we got the quote, but he still hasn't gotten his references to us. My gut tells me not to go with him either.
We've had the 'good ole boys' contractors out, too. These guys are really nice, but when the lead guy told us he had to take the plans to three other builders to get ideas on how to go about building our addition, let's just say our confidence level wasn't too high. Now, I'm not a builder, but the plans the architect drew up seem pretty straightforward to me.
Then there's the guy who couldn't find our house and didn't bother to call to let us know he was planning on coming out anyway. My husband played phone tag with him for two weeks. He has a bad habit of not returning calls, and he doesn't even have the job yet. Imagine how bad he'll be at returning calls once work begins. We don't think we'll be using him either.
Of all the contractors we've had out to the house, only one has stood out. He came prepared with a quote based on the plans and photos he got from the architect. When we told him we thought he was a little on the high side, he reworked the quote and came back $20,000 cheaper within 24 hours. He also got his references to us within 24 hours of our request. I keep wondering what's wrong with him. He doesn't act like a normal contractor.
We'll keep you posted on the addition(s) saga as it continues. Maybe we'll have the baby out of our bedroom by the time he's in kindergarten.
Me: Are you sure?
Doctor: Yes.
Me: You mean it isn't early menopause?
Doctor: No, you're pregnant.
Me: What do you mean it isn't early menopause?! (Even though I'd done a home pregnancy test, I was still in just a little bit of denial. Can you tell?)
Fourteen months ago my husband, G., and I found out we were to have another child. This news came as quite a shock, because I wasn't supposed to be able to have more children. Our four year old exists solely because of IVF. The fertility doctor who performed my surgery prior to going through IVF and the IVF itself apparently is as great as he thinks he is, since we got pregnant with S. D. on the first cycle, and we got pregnant naturally 3 years later.
G. accepted it a lot quicker than I did. After his initial, "Holy cow! How are we going to afford to have another kid, and where will he sleep?" reaction, he was absolutely overjoyed.
Call me selfish, but I had come to terms with the idea of not having anymore children and was looking forward to going back to school and getting a part time job once S.D. started school full time. I mourned the news for a month, meaning I cried every time I was in the shower where no one could hear me. I had just gotten back into decent shape. I was up to 175 crunches a day, and I was doing 11.5 miles on the exercise bike 5 times a week. I was also upset because I'm not one of those women who have easy pregnancies; the prospect of lots of bed rest with a 3 year old running around the house was not a happy thought. If you ever need to know anything about hyperemesis, anencephaly, polyhydramnios, or incarcerated uterus's, I'm your gal.
It actually took having some spotting for me to realize that I really, really wanted this little baby. Don't get me wrong, terminating was never an option. I knew that once he/she got here that I'd love him/her as much my others. I was just mourning the loss of the future I'd come to envision. As soon as I was faced with the idea of losing the baby, I knew that I had to do everything possible to make certain he/she got here safely. Now that he's here, I am absolutely in love with this adorable little guy, and can't imagine life without him. What was I thinking?
Talking about this cute, adorable, little addition to our family brings me to the topic of the other addition we're trying to cope with.
After the initial shock of having another child wore off, we realized that our current home as is, simply isn't big enough. Of course, we also found out about our little guy's imminent arrival just when the real estate market started to tank in our area. Moving also came with it's own set of problems. Our 12 year old with Asperger's Disorder doesn't cope well with change. We figured the arrival of another child was enough for her to deal with, let alone moving to a completely different neighborhood. Also, in order to sell our house, we would have had to live in our camper to show it; otherwise we would never be able to sell it. Since having children, clutter seems to have become our natural habitat. There is also the problem of all of the 2/3 finished projects around the house that would need to be completed ASAP.
We decided that the best course of action was to build an addition to our current home. The fun is just beginning. First we had to find an architect and decide on the plans. This took a little longer than we expected. Now that we have the plans, we're dealing with the joy of finding a contractor.
When we first came to the decision to add on to our house, we thought we knew what contractor we'd use. The same honest, trustworthy builder who built not only my MIL and FIL's addition, but also my BIL's addition. This guy is great! Imagine our horror when my husband contacted him only to find out that he'd gotten out of the business. He told my husband that he'd gotten out, because he was tired of dealing with all of the sharks in the business. He wished us luck in finding that most rare of all things, an honest contractor.
We now have bids ranging from $160,000 - $300,000. (Yes, we live in the suburbs of a major city, meaning higher prices.) When the guy called me with the $300,000 quote, I actually laughed at him and asked if he was planning to use platinum as a building material. We could move 30 minutes away from where we are and have a four bedroom house for $350,000 - granted it would be on a postage stamp sized lot, but $300,000 for our little addition is a bit much. I think I offended him, because we haven't heard a peep from him since.
Then there's the contractor that told us he'd get a quote to us within a week. Five weeks later we got the quote, but he still hasn't gotten his references to us. My gut tells me not to go with him either.
We've had the 'good ole boys' contractors out, too. These guys are really nice, but when the lead guy told us he had to take the plans to three other builders to get ideas on how to go about building our addition, let's just say our confidence level wasn't too high. Now, I'm not a builder, but the plans the architect drew up seem pretty straightforward to me.
Then there's the guy who couldn't find our house and didn't bother to call to let us know he was planning on coming out anyway. My husband played phone tag with him for two weeks. He has a bad habit of not returning calls, and he doesn't even have the job yet. Imagine how bad he'll be at returning calls once work begins. We don't think we'll be using him either.
Of all the contractors we've had out to the house, only one has stood out. He came prepared with a quote based on the plans and photos he got from the architect. When we told him we thought he was a little on the high side, he reworked the quote and came back $20,000 cheaper within 24 hours. He also got his references to us within 24 hours of our request. I keep wondering what's wrong with him. He doesn't act like a normal contractor.
We'll keep you posted on the addition(s) saga as it continues. Maybe we'll have the baby out of our bedroom by the time he's in kindergarten.
Saturday, October 27, 2007
One Costume Crisis Averted
Thank you, S. F.
She got out the old skunk costume and convinced S. D., the 4 year old, to try it on. She immediately started to wiggle the tail of the costume which sent Little G, the 7 month old, into hysterics. S. D. is now happily proclaiming to everyone that she's going to be a skunk for Halloween.
Thank you! Thank you! Thank you, S. F.
Now we just have one costume to figure out. If only I could convince S. F. to be a ghost. ;)
She got out the old skunk costume and convinced S. D., the 4 year old, to try it on. She immediately started to wiggle the tail of the costume which sent Little G, the 7 month old, into hysterics. S. D. is now happily proclaiming to everyone that she's going to be a skunk for Halloween.
Thank you! Thank you! Thank you, S. F.
Now we just have one costume to figure out. If only I could convince S. F. to be a ghost. ;)
Thursday, October 25, 2007
Halloween Costume Dilemna
Halloween is less than a week away, and here I am searching the Family Fun website to come up with ideas for simple, homemade costumes for my 12 and 4 year old daughters. Nothing like waiting until the last minute. :)
The 12 year old wants her costume to be cool, which probably means creepy. Thankfully the 4 year old doesn't get scared by creepy things, and creepy is easy - a little face paint, black garb, teased hair, you're good to go. But the 4 year old, she's hard.
I pulled out the skunk costume my 12 year old wore when she was 4, but of course S.D. says, "No way!" So much for frugality. Even telling her that Grandmother helped to make it, (meaning did all the sewing part because I would have sewn my sleeve to the thing) didn't work. S.D. wants to be a Super Spy. The trick is trying to figure out how to make a Super Spy costume for a little girl that's recognizable. Trying to explain what the costume is as you go out trick-or-treating is really not much fun - been there, done that. Maybe I'll just print up a costume explanation on a business card and hand it out as we get questions and quizzical looks.
Maybe I'll just convince them both to be ghosts or vampires. Wish me luck.
The 12 year old wants her costume to be cool, which probably means creepy. Thankfully the 4 year old doesn't get scared by creepy things, and creepy is easy - a little face paint, black garb, teased hair, you're good to go. But the 4 year old, she's hard.
I pulled out the skunk costume my 12 year old wore when she was 4, but of course S.D. says, "No way!" So much for frugality. Even telling her that Grandmother helped to make it, (meaning did all the sewing part because I would have sewn my sleeve to the thing) didn't work. S.D. wants to be a Super Spy. The trick is trying to figure out how to make a Super Spy costume for a little girl that's recognizable. Trying to explain what the costume is as you go out trick-or-treating is really not much fun - been there, done that. Maybe I'll just print up a costume explanation on a business card and hand it out as we get questions and quizzical looks.
Maybe I'll just convince them both to be ghosts or vampires. Wish me luck.
Tomatoes
Mom: How was school today, honey?
S. D.: It was great! We had P.E. and music.
Mom: That's great.
S. D.: But I don't want the tomatoes to get me.
Mom: What do you mean? Tomatoes won't get you. We eat tomatoes.
S. D.: No, Mommy. We had to practice today about the tomatoes. That way they won't get you.
Mom: Was this something to do with Halloween?
S. D.: No, I'm talking about the tomatoes! How they spin around and around and the wind is really fast.
Mom: Oh, tornadoes!
S. D.: Yeah, that's right. Tomatoes.
S. D.: It was great! We had P.E. and music.
Mom: That's great.
S. D.: But I don't want the tomatoes to get me.
Mom: What do you mean? Tomatoes won't get you. We eat tomatoes.
S. D.: No, Mommy. We had to practice today about the tomatoes. That way they won't get you.
Mom: Was this something to do with Halloween?
S. D.: No, I'm talking about the tomatoes! How they spin around and around and the wind is really fast.
Mom: Oh, tornadoes!
S. D.: Yeah, that's right. Tomatoes.
Monday, October 22, 2007
Dear Stranger in the Mall, Grocery Store, etc.
Dear Stranger,
Please take my advice. When there is a seven month old baby sitting in a stroller in the mall elevator looking up at his mother with a very worried face and obviously looking for reassurance from his mother, do not choose this moment to coochy-coo the anxious baby. I can assure you from personal experience that the baby is not likely to smile up at you or giggle. What is much more likely to occur is a blood-curdling scream followed by several minutes of inconsolable crying. Of course by this point, you, Dear Stranger, will have more than likely already vacated the scene.
Also, Dear Stranger, when you see a four year old girl with Shirley Temple-like curls, a sunny disposition, and an angelic face, please resist the temptation to touch her hair. Shirley Temple curls are adorable; however, if this were an adult whose hair you found beautiful, ask yourself, would you reach out to stroke the hair? Why is that you think it's acceptable for you to stroke the beautiful hair of a child you don't know, but you wouldn't dare do the same if the hair was attached to an adult?
I realize that I have been blessed with three very cute children. I think this is nature's way of ensuring they'll make it to adulthood when they do things like spill milk all over the bills on the dining room table and neglect to mention it, but instead cover it up with other papers, so that when their father or I find the bills hours later they are nothing but a massive clump of illegible gobbledygook. Just because my kids are cute and fairly well behaved in public most of the time, this does not mean that you, Dear Stranger, should take this as in invitation to man-handle them. Instead, please just offer a compliment on their cuteness, behavior, or hair. I'm sure they'd appreciate it, and I know I would.
Sincerely,
The Mom Who Deals with the Fallout
Please take my advice. When there is a seven month old baby sitting in a stroller in the mall elevator looking up at his mother with a very worried face and obviously looking for reassurance from his mother, do not choose this moment to coochy-coo the anxious baby. I can assure you from personal experience that the baby is not likely to smile up at you or giggle. What is much more likely to occur is a blood-curdling scream followed by several minutes of inconsolable crying. Of course by this point, you, Dear Stranger, will have more than likely already vacated the scene.
Also, Dear Stranger, when you see a four year old girl with Shirley Temple-like curls, a sunny disposition, and an angelic face, please resist the temptation to touch her hair. Shirley Temple curls are adorable; however, if this were an adult whose hair you found beautiful, ask yourself, would you reach out to stroke the hair? Why is that you think it's acceptable for you to stroke the beautiful hair of a child you don't know, but you wouldn't dare do the same if the hair was attached to an adult?
I realize that I have been blessed with three very cute children. I think this is nature's way of ensuring they'll make it to adulthood when they do things like spill milk all over the bills on the dining room table and neglect to mention it, but instead cover it up with other papers, so that when their father or I find the bills hours later they are nothing but a massive clump of illegible gobbledygook. Just because my kids are cute and fairly well behaved in public most of the time, this does not mean that you, Dear Stranger, should take this as in invitation to man-handle them. Instead, please just offer a compliment on their cuteness, behavior, or hair. I'm sure they'd appreciate it, and I know I would.
Sincerely,
The Mom Who Deals with the Fallout
Sunday, October 21, 2007
The Last Cookie
"Dad has the last Oreo!"
"I want it!"
"No, I want it!"
"Please, Dad, please."
"Come on, Dad, share."
"No, it's mine."
At this point S. F., the 12 year old, goes off to sulk over the loss of the last Oreo. S. D., the 4 year old, gives Dad her most cute and sweet please. I can see by the look across Dad's face that the cuteness has worked its magic; he's going to give up the cookie to the girls. They, of course don't know this.
Dad breaks the cookie apart and gives half to S. D., she beams at Dad and then does the most generous thing. She walks over to her big sister, breaks her half of the cookie in half and gives that half to her big sister. She didn't realize that Daddy was going to give the other half to S. F.
The most amazing part of the story is that just 30 minutes before this, the two of them were driving each other up the wall.
"I want it!"
"No, I want it!"
"Please, Dad, please."
"Come on, Dad, share."
"No, it's mine."
At this point S. F., the 12 year old, goes off to sulk over the loss of the last Oreo. S. D., the 4 year old, gives Dad her most cute and sweet please. I can see by the look across Dad's face that the cuteness has worked its magic; he's going to give up the cookie to the girls. They, of course don't know this.
Dad breaks the cookie apart and gives half to S. D., she beams at Dad and then does the most generous thing. She walks over to her big sister, breaks her half of the cookie in half and gives that half to her big sister. She didn't realize that Daddy was going to give the other half to S. F.
The most amazing part of the story is that just 30 minutes before this, the two of them were driving each other up the wall.
Saturday, October 20, 2007
Allow Me to Introduce Myself
I'm a stay at home mom (SAHM), but I prefer the term Professional Parent. After all, being a parent to three children ages 7 months, 4 1/2 years, and 12 1/2 years causes you to draw on several different job skills. I'm a chauffer, cook, laundress, maid (although admittedly not a good one), nurse, drill sargeant, tutor, editor, and psychologist. I'm sure there are a few others I've forgotten to mention, but they'll come up in later posts.
Being a Professional Parent for the past 12 1/2 years has been the greatest, most wonderful, and most frustrating experience of my life. My two daughters ages 12 and 4 are as different from one another as possible. Now I'm finding out how different it is having a son, even though he's only 7 months old, and I'm not just talking about learning how to speed diaper so as not to get sprayed.
My 12 year old has a form of autism called Asperger's Disorder. She is the quintessential rule follower and keeper of the routine. She's smart, funny, and beautiful. She's also a lot of work, but well worth it. We are constantly having teaching moments, because she doesn't understand social nuances. We also have a lot of misunderstandings that lead to great humor, because she takes things so literally. Just the other day, she ran shrieking from the room because I was talking about another parent "dressing her son down". She of course got a mental image of her friend naked. She's been melodramatically claiming that she's scarred for life by the image in her head.
My four year old is the polar opposite. She thrives on change. She wakes up every morning wanting to know what we're going to do. She loves it when we say we're going somewhere new. She is definitely "the glass half full" type. She'll comfort her big sister and tell her everything will be okay. It's great knowing that I've given birth to an eternal optimist. I think she'll probably live a long and happy life because of her sunny disposition.
My son is incredibly different from either of his sisters, even though he's only 7 months old. He is at the moment mommy's boy, not to be confused with mama's boy. He looks at me in a way that is completely different than his sisters did as infants. It's obvious that for the moment the world revolves around me. I'll admit I'm enjoying the adoration for the time being, because I know how fleeting this time is. He is our observer. He watches his sisters all the time. He also finds something funny once. After he's had his giggle, he's finished. If one of the girls makes him laugh, the next time they do the same thing, they get a polite smile or a tiny chuckle.
It's amazing how three children from the same exact gene pool can be so different from one another. You'll be hearing a lot about them.
Being a Professional Parent for the past 12 1/2 years has been the greatest, most wonderful, and most frustrating experience of my life. My two daughters ages 12 and 4 are as different from one another as possible. Now I'm finding out how different it is having a son, even though he's only 7 months old, and I'm not just talking about learning how to speed diaper so as not to get sprayed.
My 12 year old has a form of autism called Asperger's Disorder. She is the quintessential rule follower and keeper of the routine. She's smart, funny, and beautiful. She's also a lot of work, but well worth it. We are constantly having teaching moments, because she doesn't understand social nuances. We also have a lot of misunderstandings that lead to great humor, because she takes things so literally. Just the other day, she ran shrieking from the room because I was talking about another parent "dressing her son down". She of course got a mental image of her friend naked. She's been melodramatically claiming that she's scarred for life by the image in her head.
My four year old is the polar opposite. She thrives on change. She wakes up every morning wanting to know what we're going to do. She loves it when we say we're going somewhere new. She is definitely "the glass half full" type. She'll comfort her big sister and tell her everything will be okay. It's great knowing that I've given birth to an eternal optimist. I think she'll probably live a long and happy life because of her sunny disposition.
My son is incredibly different from either of his sisters, even though he's only 7 months old. He is at the moment mommy's boy, not to be confused with mama's boy. He looks at me in a way that is completely different than his sisters did as infants. It's obvious that for the moment the world revolves around me. I'll admit I'm enjoying the adoration for the time being, because I know how fleeting this time is. He is our observer. He watches his sisters all the time. He also finds something funny once. After he's had his giggle, he's finished. If one of the girls makes him laugh, the next time they do the same thing, they get a polite smile or a tiny chuckle.
It's amazing how three children from the same exact gene pool can be so different from one another. You'll be hearing a lot about them.
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