Mom to the Screaming Masses

Dynamics of a big family - take one

This is the first post of the paired sets that Chris and I are doing simultaneously. Every Wednesday, we will discuss a question asked of us.  If you are here from Mommybloggers, where I am featured today (!!!!!!), welcome, and please stick around.  I promise I'm not always depressing, sometimes I'm actually pretty fun to read........

So, Chris opened the floor of her blog up to questions.  What do people want to know about big families?  Some of the questions were to be expected - how can you afford so many kids, why do you keep having them, etc - and some were a bit off the wall.  The thought that we both have our hubby's chained to the beds and won't let them up until we are pregnant again WAS pretty funny.

For our first topic, we thought we'd tangle with morning schedules.  They are bound to be different, since she's a homeschooling whiz and my kids are schooled out of the house.  I used to think that I wanted to homeschool my kids.  Then I had them, and let's just say, that idea died a quick and painless death.

5:30 My alarm goes off for the first time.  My big plan for every day is to get up and run on the treadmill.  I lift my head from the pillow, squint groggily at the red numbers, and decide to run later.  I shove over at least one child, who has made their way into my bed and demanded more than their fair share of real estate.  I reset the alarm for 6 and go back to the dreamland, where I am slim and gorgeous and have much (male) eye candy to peruse.

6:10 Having already hit the snooze button once, I fumble out of bed, visit the potty and slap on my glasses.  I make a stop in the big girls room, in Gabe's room and in Nik's room, where I say the same trite, Mary Poppins phrase every morning:  "Good morning!  It's time to get up and get ready for school!  Aren't you so excited??" I rotate from room to room until I at least get a grunt in reply from all involved, and make my way downstairs.

6:12 - 6:20 I check my email and favorite discussion board, and if I'm quick, read a few of my favorite bloggers.  I drink a cup of cold coffee and try to mentally prepare for the morning ahead.  I listen with half an ear to the news and try to guess the trivia for the day, and grumble if the weather calls for rain. I yell upstairs and get verbal confirmation that everyone is at least thinking about getting dressed, and I turn my attention to...

6:20 - 6:35 Breakfast.  After many ugly mornings, we now have a set schedule.  Monday is eggs, Tuesday oatmeal, Wednesday pancakes, Thursday nutrigrain bars or bagels with fruit and yogurt, and Friday is waffles or pancakes.  Yup, my kids like them some hot breakfast.  If you don't like what's on the schedule - about three times a week between the big four - you can pour your own self a bowl of cereal.  During this time, the yahoos are making their way down and to the table, albeit without combed hair.  We have a rule - if you aren't downstairs and dressed by 6:30, you don't get hot breakfast.  Just cold cereal.  Much grumpiness is exuded during this time, not all of it by the kids.  I'm slapping food around, pouring drinks and trying to clean as I go.  I reassure Gabe that he's not dumb, tell the big kids to knock it off, and finally end up putting everyone on voice restriction.

6:35-6:40 Vitamins and medications.  I grab about 40 bajillion bottles and the medicine drawers and slid into a seat.  Nik and Allegra get 2 GNC adult multi's, B complex, extra C, and Immune support.  Mackenzie gets 1 adult multi, a vitamin C, and immune support.  Gabe gets three vit C -  to equal the dose of the bigger kids, 2 greens today multi's. 2 benefiber - don't ask, you DON'T want to know.  As of this week, the week of the THIRD invasion of strep, all get antibiotics and acidophilus - either chewable or swallow.  I make a game out of it and shoot the pills air hockey style.  I slide advair disks, claritin D and zyrtec to people.  I pass out nose sprays. 

During this time, one of the following has happened: Emma has woken up and come down, Riley has woken up and come down, or The Hubster has.  We all pray daily that Emma and Riley stay asleep, so I don't have to take them with me when I drive the big kids.  If they have woken, though, I give them breakfast and put clips in their hair, since both of them have hair that hangs down past their mouths and trust me, syrup in hair at 6:30 isn't where I want to be.

6:40 - 7:00 Places are cleared, reminders given to drink your juice, and lunches are packed.  I really like it if hot lunch is good that day - I've only got to pack one lunch, since Nik never buys.  I can do all four lunches in 4 minutes - I timed myself one day.  Everyone gets a drink and a sandwich - pb and j or soy butter and jelly for Gabe - fruit, granola bar, goldfish or cheezits or chips.  Chips are a once a week thing, and horded jealously around here.  I slap the lunch bags and boxes on the counter and listen for the trivia answer on the news. 

7:02 After hearing the headline for the Today show, I snap off the television and give out the orders.  Teeth and hair, bags packed, instruments, shoes and coats.  I head upstairs and quickly wash my face and brush my teeth, put in my contacts and get dressed.  I try to dress in work out clothes, figuring that if I look the part, maybe I'll get it done today.  I'm downstairs by 7:15 and we load out to the car.  I do a quick count and reminder to grab all the stuff they need - especially difficult if it's soccer season, and THOSE bags have to be packed, and snacks and water bottles have to go as well.  Coats are on hooks along the wall, and gloves and hats are in shoe organizers nailed up in the garage.  Raincoats are on a rod in the garage as well.  Each child has a shelf for shoes in the garage.  Sounds like it would be easy to get it together, but you have to have PUT your stuff there to be able to FIND it there.  I break up 372 fights in the driveway, send someone back to wash the toothpaste off their face, and beg them to just leave.each.other.ALONE for one flippin minute.  Yeah, I'm so smooth.  I pity my neighbors, who never get to sleep in past our departure - there is so much fighting and arguing.

7:15 If all has gone well, we are backing out the driveway.  I play a little head game with myself.  my neighbor leaves at 7:15 too, and I try to be the first one backing out of the drive.  It doesn't always work - there are days when she's left 10 minutes before we do - there's always SOMETHING going wrong.  Can't find the back pack, the shoes, no coat - yadda, yadda. 

7:20 We head back up the drive and re open the garage door, for the forgotten instrument/homework/project/lunch/coat/hat/gloves/shoes.  Yes, in one memorable morning, one of my children forgot to put shoes on, and we didn't discover it until we arrived at school.  One day, someone had the wrong shoes on - wouldn't pass uniform inspection - and I had to make a separate trip.

7:25- 7:40 We drive to school and I mediate several arguments along the way. I call for an end to tattling, a cease and desist on kicking your sister, and put the kabosh on hitting each other with a hair brush. I'm usually signing permission slips, homework, tests, and the like, and even very occasionally reading a book to Gabe for his homwork. Yeah, I'm THAT driver some days.  We try to remember to slip in a quick set of prayers and then, I slow down and shove them out gently stop the car and release them into the wilds of school.  I call out, "good bye! Have a great day!  Make good choices!  I love you!"  and try not to burn rubber as I peel away, cackling madly.

7:45 -8:00 I stop at Starbucks for my favorite breakfast - usually a tall, non fat caramel macchiato with extra caramel.  I enjoy the only time of adult interaction without a child present.  Then I jump into the car and drive home, in time to....

8:00 Help The Hubster get ready to go to work.  I bring down laundry, checking my email and reading blogs between trips.  I break up about a kajillion arugments between Emma and Riley, and set out Riley's therapy stuff. I pack his lunch and mix up his breakfast smoothie.  I pause for a quick send off for The Hubster, go back to my computer, and turn the tv on so that I can read blogs in the quiet.  I briefly entertain the thought of the treadmill, and decide that can wait until after lunch.  I get my butt off the computer, decide to change over the laundry, and clean up the house.  I usually field at least one phone call from a kid, who has forgotten something, necessitating another trip to school.  At 9, we start therapy work.

http://www.momtothescreamingmasses.typepad.com/http://www.momtothescreamingmasses.typepad.com/

Stay tuned for the next exciting installment of Dynamics of a big family!  If you have a topic that you'd like discussed, on the unusual challenges of raising a family larger than the norm, leave it in the comments.  As long as it's not something to do with sex or money, we'll probably answer it!

Whoa - you people have opinions!

And you're not afraid to share them, apparently!

I mean, 27 comments concerning my thoughts on getting a tattoo?  If I would have only known that you all felt so strongly, I'd have posted it a long time ago!

But, really, I was a bit, well, insulted miffed at the assumption that a person with a tattoo is trashy.  I was actually a bit hurt.  I'd still be the same person - in fact, you wouldn't even be able to see it at all, since it'd be on my lower back and I'm too damned fat to wear a two piece or low riders.  Are you telling me that society is shallow enough that a good, respectable, clean person - someone you'd see hanging out in your local grocery store/book store/Starbucks/doctor's office - would be acceptable ONLY if she DID NOT have a tattoo?  Someone you go to church with, who in fact is a very religious person?  I don't follow that reasoning AT ALL.

That's like what my dad told me when I got my ears double pierced.  That it was something that hookers do.  I remember THAT conversation like it was yesterday.  I have a good relationship with the man now, but that stuck in my craw for years.  I'd venture to say that he's forgotten about it, but I sure didn't.

Does this mean that ANY person with a tattoo, no matter how smart/nice/talented/successful is not worth talking to?  If so, that's pretty harsh.  That the things you like about me - the fact that I'm so intelligent, so personable, so damned funny - would be negated if I had a tattoo?  What if you found out that your best friend, or your favorite aunt, or your lover, for that matter, had a tattoo that you hadn't seen before?  Would that person be totally out of your field of friendliness?

One comment, left by Dollymama, struck home with me.  In it, she spoke of being an engima.  I really like that aspect of me.  I'm the woman who bought two cd's this week - Dean Martin and the Clash.  I drive a huge honking van, but listen to hard rock at ear splitting levels - when I'm alone, that is.  I'm an intellectual, but love to read sappy - although well written - romance novels.  I attend church every single week, and for a long while hosted a faith sharing community in my home weekly.  Yet I am considering a tattoo. 

Answer me, please.  I'm really interested in knowing why that would be.  Cuz I don't get it, and I really am curious to know why about half of the responses were so negative.

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In other news, we've got strep in the house AGAIN.  That makes three times in three months, with a round of pink eye in the  middle.  And!  Guess what?  My throat is sore, and I'm going to get a throat culture tonight.  Yay, me!  I don't get it - I give them immune boosters up the ying-yang - vit C, echinachea, garlic, collodial silver, olive leaf, zinc, elderberry and astralagus are all in the boosters we use.  WHERE are they getting all this SICKNESS from??????

Or, from WHERE are they getting all this sickness?  I think that's more gramatically correct. ;)

Edited to add:  Emma just hurled all over the kitchen.  I can tell this is going to be a looooong night.

My kingdom for a tattoo

Anyone have one?  I'm really thinking about getting one on the small of my back.

Well, not that anything is small on me, but you catch my drift, hm?

I did a henna tattoo this weekend there, and while it's not perfect, I do like it. 

The only thing is, I'd like a real one but I'm too chicken.  The pain, I think, would be excruciating.  Although, I know people who've had it done and they say it wasn't bad.  My hairdresser said "If you can have six babies without meds, you can certainly have a tattoo!"  I'm not certain that I follow that line of reasoning.  My niece had the tops of her feet done and said it was a bitch to do.

So, if you have one, did it hurt?  A lot or a manageable level? Do you regret having it done?  What would you do again?

And, am I totally weird for thinking about it?  I mean, for the love of Pete, I'm your typical soccer mom, with an atypical amount of kids.  Would that be too weird?

What is it with me, anyway?

Why is it that I can't form a proper post to save my life, but I have fifty two random thoughts rolling around in my brain?

I'm certain there is a blog post in the fact that Emma knows most of the words to "Hollaback Girl", but I'm too disorganized to actually find the threads to tie the post together.  She has the swing and hip motions to go with it, too - it's hysterical.

I took Allegra to the pediatrician for her 11 year old check up today, and she was asked to put on a gown, leaving her undergarments on.  She threw a look of panic at me, and then explained that she had on her "naughty or nice?" undies from Old Navy.  Whoops.  Good thing it was a female doctor.

Emma has become one of the whiniest children I have ever encountered.  She still takes a pacifier at night to sleep - yah, I know, shut up already - and lately she keeps sneaking off with them from the kitchen and going to lay on the sofa. 

Three of my kids have pink eye, and now MY eyes are itchy. 

I went out to dinner last night with my girlfriends for my monthly dinner club.  I think I negated all the running that I'm doing by having two rum drinks.

The Hubster got his check yesterday, and it was, thank you God, enough to pay the bills and leave a bit left over.  I hope this bodes well for the rest of the year.

My two day care kids have only been here one day - Friday.  On Tuesday and today, when we pulled into the driveway he was already at my house.  His kids, and most of mine as well, were pretty pissed at him today.  He's promised to leave them tomorrow for a longer time, so that he can go to the grocery store.

Why is it that I *always* need something at the grocery store, by the way?  I can NEVER say I've got it all, there is always something that needs to be added to the stupid list.

I weighed myself last week at therapy - they have a great scale.  If I go tomorrow and weigh myself, and it's the same number or greater, you will probably see me on the news.  I've been running for 30 minutes every day - I've got the very sore knees to prove it.  I think I'm pronating when I run, and I'm not sure how to fix it. 

I've been asked to write a column with Chris of The Big Yellow House on big family dynamics.  What a cool honor to be asked!  She'll pick the topic and we both write about it on the same day.  I kind of feel like an imposter being asked to the popular girls table - as soon as they all read me, they'll flock to her and..... and what, I don't know.  I feel very honored and over my head at the same time.

Why do other people make running look so cool?  It looks like they just glide along, and I feel like an unweildy hippo trudging through the mud.

Hmm, no other random thoughts have struck in the past ten minutes?  Could it be that my brain is empty?

Because I am nothing if not smooth

Yesterday, our yard man was scheduled to come.

Before you get all up in my face and stop wanting to be my friend, since I have a yard man and all, let me just tell you - we have to have a yard man.  With The Hubster working 759 hours in one week, and the six kids at home, and the oldest son who could mow the lawn, but not up to The Hubster's insane perfectionist characteristics - we decided, for the health of our family, to have a yard man.  You see, the times that we have tried to have The Hubster mow - well, it took about 13 hours.  I'm not kidding.  It looks amazing when he's done, but I lose most of my mind on those days.

So, we have a yard man.  A very nice, 60 something black man, who keeps trying to get us to sell Noni juice.  Despite that, I like the man.  I feel a touch Southern Plantation Owner, having a black yard man, but I'll get past it, I'm certain.  I haven't, in the five years we've known him, but I keep hoping.

Yesterday, I was on the treadmill - 13 days, without a pass - and I heard him arrive and power up the mower.  I had forgotten to put out his check, and so I thought I'd just tape it to the door discreetly, being that I was dressed in a huge workout bra that could have easily been a sail, and white spandex shorts.  No need to scare the poor man, and, besides, if I saw him, he might want to chat about Noni juice, being that I was working out and all.  So I carefully slid open the door, snaked my arm around and taped the check to the glass of the storm door, and quietly closed it up.  I congratulated myself all the way upstairs, where I took a quick shower and prepared myself for the trip to get the kids from school.  They had a half day, so I had to hurry and get to school.

I walked outside, and came face to face with the yard man, who greeted me and asked if I had any power tools.  "Um, sure, why?"  Well, it seems that he would need them to take the glass storm door OFF THE HINGES - so that he could get his check.  Yup, I had oh so discreetly placed the check behind the locked door.  Where he could look at his hard earned $30, and not actually RECEIVE IT.

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Last night, I was folding laundry.  I know, hard to believe that I have to do that.  I realized that I couldn't hear Emma and Riley, and went looking.  They were standing behind the shower curtain in the tub, rubbing handfuls of shampoo into their dry hair. 

(The day before, they used up an entire bottle of Burt's Bees baby lotion, trying to lotion themselves while I was - wait for it - doing laundry.  Maybe I should stop doing laundry?)

I kill myself with my humor sometimes.

Yes, with the randomness

I'm sorry - all I can come up with are random thoughts. 

I had to write a recommendation for Nikolas today, discussing how wonderful he is.  This morning he was so bad, I wondered if I could go to jail for perjury when the form was read.

At 5:00, my children informed me that tomorrow is a bake sale day.  Fine, cool, here's your money.  Except.  Gabe can't buy anything due to his alleriges.  Which meant that I needed to BAKE something.

I cracked the eggs into the pan of baked oatmeal that I was making for tomorrow's breakfast and one of them had blood in it. 

Riley has had a record number of mind blowing tantrums in the past week.  One took place in the wholesale club.  I ended up throwing some money at the clerk running the food court, parking my other kids at the tables with pizza, and taking her outside.  I let her stand by herself, which is the only way she will calm down - she has to be by herself.  If we are at home, she goes in the protacrib, but when we are out she stands a bit away from me.  This old bag very kind, worried woman asked if I was with the child.  When I indicated that, yes, I was with her, but she was autistic and needed some space, she puffed at me and told me someone was going to walk off with her.  I should have asked her for a pinky promise, but all I did was say, "They'd bring her right back."  So why did I let this little conversation, and the proceeding tantrum, occupy the better part of my mind (shut UP, I know that there really is no better part) for the past three days?

I had to crack up at this comment I saw on a website where you rate doctors.  Note that some ratings, particularly those for mental health care professionals, may have been left by patients suffering from mental disorders.  Duh.  The site is here.

My heater switch in my van is broken.  In a raging fit yesterday, I ripped the thing off and put a pair of pliers in the cupholder so that I can switch the damned thing on and off.  I am SO classy that way, yo.

BlogHer info can be found here.  I'm flying in on Thursday, I think, and flying out Sunday.  Maybe Friday to Sunday.  Rooms are $75 for each night.  Unless you decide to pay for the continental breakfast, which is included at the $95 rate.  Me, I don't eat $20 worth of breakfast, so, there you go.

I think I'm high.  I agreed to watch a friends two kids after school from 3-6 or so for $125 a week.  Mackenzie is best friends with the older daughter, who is her age.  The two of them, to borrow a quote from a good movie - two points if you can name it - "Make coffee nervous". They are poster children for ADHD ads.  The younger daughter is Gabe's age and gets along famously with Emma.  Cross your fingers for me - it's therapy money.

Any other lurkers out there?  My stats belie the smaller number of confirmed lurkers.

National Delurking week

So, I'm a day late.  Garnish my wages, why don't you? 

Does that include parsley?

I'm a day late cuz I've been a busy little mommy.  Emma's been sick, The Hubster's been off work.  Nik's been a jerk, the Christmas decorations are down, I've been running/walking for 9 days now. I've discovered that I can't eat diet foods - the South Beach and Healthy Choice frozen stuff isn't cutting it.  I'm a good cook, so I'm used to good tasting food, and I've found nothing else will satify.  So I'm eating less, rather than eating a bunch of lower taste fat stuff.  Other than some ice cream on Sunday when we were out to eat, I haven't had a sweet in 9 days.  I'm drinking skim milk in my vanilla latte, and three bottles of water each day.  Only one 12 ounce soda a day - this is a really hard one.

I made my reservations for Blogher this year - $75 for the room!  The school broke a water main and was closed yesterday - right after I dropped them off, I got the call to pick them up.  I'm writing every day - almost up to 20K - and it's either really good, or the worst tripe ever.  I can't decide.  I've got someone professional reading it for me - hi there, you know who you are! - and am on pins and needles waiting to hear her thoughts.

So, I've caught you up on my life - delurk and tell me what's new with you!

And thank you for all the lovely comments with regards to my blog.  I puffy heart all of you!

Three days down, HOW many to go?!?!

Three days of exercise.  Yup, I'm on the treadmill once again.  I'm doing less food, more water and more exercise.  Tonight, I ran part of my time on the treadmill.  YES, I ran.  Felt good, too. 

I also wrote 1200 words in my super not so secret project.  I'm up to just shy of 17,000.  11 chapters, and I'm super excited to see what happenes next.  That always bugged the living shit out of me - when a writer claimed that they didn't know what was going to happen when they sat down to type, and they had no idea that the main character would turn out to be a murder who slept with her sister.  But, honest to goodness, I had NO idea that one of the - well, you'll just have to read it IF I ever get it published.  I did have someone read it who really liked it, and I didn't even pay her.

Much.

So, I've heard that it takes 30 days to create a new habit.  I've been walking since August, off and on.  Mostly on, but off for the entire month of December due to sloth.  I still don't feel like it's a habit - I dread doing it and hate every minute of it. 

But, my kids PE teacher told me today that I looked like I was losing weight.  I don't think so - I think she wanted me to pay the full price to sign my kids up for soccer and was trying to be nice.

I want to make an exercise and writing habit.  How long do you think it will take me to break it?

Too bad I can't create a laundry habit, eh?

Schedules: pros and cons

Since I'm firmly entrenched in the "New year, New plans" mindset - which typically lasts until Feb 3 or so - I thought I'd run a few thoughts by my good friends in the computer.

Schedules.  Pro or con?  I'm speaking of making a schedule for myself.  I have tried, in the past, to write up things like meal plan on Monday, wash sheets on Tuesday, mop floor on Wednesday - that kind of thing.  It worked, when I could be bothered to actually follow it.  I'm pretty much a rebel.  "You want me to wash the sheets today?  Well, what if I don't WANT to?"  Next thing I know, I'm snubbing my own schedule to sit on my butt and surf the Web.  Then I'm complaining that the schedule is a rotten idea and doesn't work.  I'm so predictable that way.

I have a friend who has 7 kids and homeschools.  She writes a daily schedule.  8-8:30  breakfast.  8:30-8:45 shower and dress, 8:45-9:30 clean the kitchen, etc etc etc.  I think that I'd find that kind of a schedule overkill and oppressive, but if it'd mean that I'd have time to do everything that I wanted/needed to do in a day, I'd be willing to try.

My laundry is stacked high, I've got Christmas stuff to put away, and I need to dust.  I want to write every day (I'm up to just shy of 16K words right now!) and I have GOT to exercise.  I need to plan meals.  I used to do that, and I got away from it.  Now I just randomly buy and plan out what's for dinner at 4:55.

On Monday, it occurred to me that some of the beds in our house were, let's say, less than fresh.  I decided to change the sheets.  While I was busy pulling sheets off and cursing mattress protectors, Allegra came into the room.  "Mom!  What are you doing?" she asked, with a look of abject horror on her face. "What does it look like?  Changing the sheets."  "I mean, why?  Did someone get sick?" 

Yup, that's my kid, who thinks that the only time the sheets get changed is when someone barfs on them.  I am SUCH a good housekeeper.

So, it's back to a weekly schedule for certain.  But would you try a daily one?  Or have you?  Did you find it workable, or irritable?