Mom to the Screaming Masses

Something is afoot

And I don't know what it is. 

Allow me to set the scene.

There are four older kids in my house, big enough to know how to get along.  And, yet, they never do.  As in, never.  As in, last night, two of the girls were fighting over who could sit in the front seat - I was out of the car, checking Gabriel into Scouts - while we were parked in the school lot, and one was fighting with a freshly sharpened pencil in her hand. It missed the other child's eyeball by a teeny tiny hair, and the scratch goes - fairly deeply - along most of the cheek. 

Yeouch is right.

Now, though, something is up, and I'm suspicious.

I REALLY hate to exercise

When I first started exercising, I hated it.  Everyone told me that it'd get easier as time went on.  "Why," they said to me, "If you just keep on working out, it will become an addiction!"

Riiiiiigghhhhht.  Fat chance there, and I use the term FAT pretty liberally. 

When I started to run, I met up with one of The Hubster's bosses, who complimented me on my weight loss.  When I confided in him that I'd started to run, his face grew animated, and he stared off into the distance.  "Don't you just love it?"  he asked excitedly.  "When you get that runner's high, and you feel like you could run all day?"

Um, no.  I think I've gotten that feeling once.  It's a fleeting thing, lasting less than a minute, and even when I did experience it the one time, it didn't make the running that much more enjoyable.

Let's face it - I hate exercise.  HATE IT.  I force myself to exercise almost daily.   I can come up with more excuses and projects to get out of it, but, ultimately, I buckle down and get it done.   Even if I never get that feel great feeling after as a reward.  I like the results enough to struggle through.

Love Thursday

Ever since Karen started Love Thursday (the entire set of pics can be found over at Flickr), I spend inordinate amounts of time, unhealthy amounts, really, thinking about what to post.  Generally, I feel like my photos wouldn't pass muster.  Since there aren't lots of warm fuzzy moments over here in the Masses household, most certainly due to my less than stellar parenting skilz, I've been pretty stymied.  I mean, you can only post so many pics of your kids beating each other with pool noodles and chasing each other around the house with spatulas before people get tired of looking.  I know, you all are jealous of my ill behaved children.  Those types of pictures, though, I can save for another day.  Today, while I was walking SEVEN POINT THREE miles, I realized that I had taken the perfect pictures last week.

I don't know how to explain today

Was it a good day, or a not so good?  I'll let you be the judge.

On the good side, I:

• got my kids to school on time, stopped for iced coffee and got home in record time
• bought a baby gift for one of my best friends, who I'm so bummed that I can't see her since she's had this baby - so, that's kind of a toss up, good and bad.  But, baby gifts are so cute, so more good, I'd say.
• had an order of tie dye supplies delivered, so I can make the halloween shirts for my kids that I'm really itching to do, as well as a few in brown tones for Nik.
• received a letter from school stating that, since Allegra scored in the top 2% on her standardized testing for verbal, she's eligible to join the John Hopkins Institute study program.  Which costs money, so, potentially bad.  But it is an honor that I didn't think she'd achieve. 
• Took a trip to a thrift store, and scored two Nordstrom long sleeve shirts for Nik, to replace some of the ink debacle, a Land's End turtleneck for Emma that needs about four stitches in the neck to be in perfect condition, and a brand new pair of Gymboree sneakers for next year for Emma - all for about $9. 
• Vacuumed my entire house.  (see below)
• Went out for a cheap Mexican lunch.  (also, see below)
• Realized that I can do 15 incline pushups without pause, and decided to attempt boy style pushups.  Wasn't a total flop, as I can do five.  Repeated the 15/5 set three more times.  (see below)
• Realized that Christmas is 3 months away, and I'm more than 2/3 of the way done with my shopping.  My list is smaller this year, and that's a good thing - it's easier to be done if there's less to buy.
• Was able to rescue 1/2 of the ink ruined clothing. 
• Did not eat ice cream, cookies, brownies or candy.  Did eat healthy fruit compote topped with fiber filled oatmeal crumb topping.
• Found a cool new site to upload pictures and scrapbook electronically - smilebox.com
• Found and purchased snow pants for two of my kids on ebay for less than $16, including shipping.  HUGE steal  - you all KNOW those suckers are expensive. 
• Watched my boys play football together, at Nik's initiative, and smiled to see him help Gabe throw the ball correctly.

Topic Tuesday: Laundry day

What cracks me up is how the universe has it in for me.

I had vowed, in my previous post, to be nice to everyone all day. (Stick with me, here, as this will eventually lead back to Today's Topic.  I promise.)  It was a day that began horribly and ended worse.  Before we went to soccer tonight, I had tried, in a calm manner, to let Nikolas know why I was no longer doing his laundry.  It had to do with the stench coming from the closet, the totally empty laundry hamper sitting right outside the door, and the knee high pile inside the closet.  He took it rather well, agreeing that he would now be responsible.  With what could almost be described as a cheerful spirit, he carried said pile downstairs.  He popped it into the washer - which he does know how to operate, so no gripe there - and when the load finished, he tossed it into the dryer.  We then left for soccer.  Congratulating myself on my incredible restraint, and him on his grown up reaction, we sat through the soccer practice.   There was little arguing and I felt proud of my ability to be happy and cheerful all day.  It wasn't THAT hard, I thought to myself.

It was when we got home that all hell broke loose.

Mission Monday

Today was, well, interesting.

I helped supervise Gabriel's first popcorn sale at a grocery store.  He'd never done it before, and, for that matter, neither had I.  Nikolas has been in scouts for years, and he usually sells over $1000 worth of popcorn.  He's never done a show and sell, though.  He packs it up in the wagon and walks around the neighborhood with The Hubster. 

You know what a show and sell is, right?  Every time that you go to a store, and you see all these kids standing outside asking you to buy product - those are show and sells.

Gabe was so excited.  He put on his uniform early, and bounced around the van until we arrived.  He grabbed a box of popcorn, and spoke out to each person as they passed, "Do you want to buy some popcorn?"  He wasn't ugly about it, he was perfectly polite. And you know what?  I never realized exactly how rude people can be to little kids. And how invisible little kids are to adults.  I'm guilty of that myself.  I mean, really, when you go to the store, do you really want to be hit up to support a band/buy some cookies/big candy bars/popcorn?

I got down onto his level a few times, just to see the world and the action as he was seeing it, and it blew me away.  Grown ups are TALL, people.  And when you are six, and you are built up and excited to sell popcorn, and you oh so happily ask someone if they want to buy, and you have to tilt your head way up oh-so-high just to meet their eyes, it's kind of hurtful when that grown up brushes by you without a glance, much less even meet your eyes.  There were some really nice people who gave donations - one guy gave $10, which floored me.  That's a lot of money to just donate.  I found myself growing angry with a few people.  How hard is it, really, to take time out of your day just to say hi?  To answer a question with kindness, and grace, and poise?   Who are you, really, to brush by another human being without a response, especially to a nicely worded, pleasant request?  Do you lose a bit of yourself by being kind to another? 

Which leads me to a(nother) question for you, and then your Mission for Monday.

One song lyric to sum up my current state of being

Coldplay – The Scientist (from A Rush of Blood to the Head). :

Nobody said it was easy,

No one ever said it would be this hard…

(Swiped from being enough)

I've been thinking this over recently, after I read a comment in another blog that talked about me. The post in question talked about how I (and one other mom with a similar amount of children) made it look so easy, raising so many kids, and she was struggling with her smaller amount.  She questioned her ability, and a comment was left that said something along the lines of "What's up with these women with freakin' bluebirds on their shoulders, and I can't deal with my kid's grinding of his molars?"  Total paraphrase, but I distinctly remember the part about the"freakin' bluebirds on their shoulders", cuz it made me cry.

Cry, people.  (As in, literal tears coming from the eyes on my face. For about five whole minutes.  Which is a long time, if you really sit down and time it out.)  And obsess over it for at least five weeks. 

The thing is, I don't have it together.  My kids fight, whine, cry and complain more than just about any kids I've ever seen.  I certainly don't think that I'm doing any great shakes in that department.  They are, for the most part, well behaved and obedient in public, and that's good.  To me, they are less so.  But, when I see and hear other families whose kids don't fight, it hurts me to see what I'm screwing up.

Last week, I decided not to sign my daughter up for ballet classes - an art at which she is very good.  Not because she couldn't do it, but because I couldn't do it.  I've not gotten anyone late to any soccer practices/piano lessons/school/games/scout meetings, but I know it's only a matter of time. 

This week, one of my kids ran out of asthma medication. A simple remedy, really, just a quick phone call and a trip to the drive through pharmacy.  I forgot to sign one kid's test folder.  I forgot to check and sign homework.  Dinner on Tuesday night was sandwiches.  I frequently yell at my kids, and call them by the wrong name.  I am often exasperated and annoyed, and I've misplaced my very favorite piece of jewelry - next to my wedding ring, of course.  I am totally SICK that I can't find my ring.

Each night I count down to the time after dinner so that I can put my little people to bed.  My laundry is always behind, I've always got some piece of clothing soaking to remove some nefarious stain, and there are ALWAYS at least one set of nails in need of trimming. 

I made a pan of low fat brownies, aptly named Light Fantastic.  I ate six of them the first night. My daughter forgets a book for homework every.single.night, and I am no longer sympathetic.  One night, vocabulary, one night science, one night spelling.  For the first two weeks of soccer, my son wore his father's black work socks over his shin guards, because I couldn't find the brand new black soccer socks I bought in the summer.  One of my girls was wearing a pair with the entire heel cut out. Now I've remedied that by stocking every single thing that we could need in their bags.

The thing is?

I think, for the most part and in some fashion, we are all this way. 

Smart mouth

My son asked me for a laser pointer today.  To be more precise, the conversation went like this:

Son:  "Mom, my binder is broken, and I need a new one tonight.  I also need a laser pointer for a presentation that's due next week." 

Me:  "Hmm, well, those are kind of pricey, and I don't know that a laser pointer is in my budget.  I'll see what they cost."

Son: "Well, how much did those new shoes you have on cost?  Probably not as much as a laser pointer. "

Excuse me?  Since when do I consult with a 14 year old on my budget guidelines?  He's lucky that I didn't beat him into next week.

It reminded me of something that I said as a child.

The fancy grocery

Sunday was a nice day.  I took my kids to church, and when it was over, the Hubster went to work and I decided to finish some errands.  Allegra had been invited to a birthday party across town, about 30 minutes away, and I realized that I'd be passing some great shopping on the way home. 

I didn't have much money, but I had a recipe that I wanted to try.

In the paper recently, there was a recipe called "Overnight Coffee Cake", which called for dutch process cocoa powder.  I've seen a lot of recipes that called for this ingredient recently, and I haven't had any luck in locating it.  My girlfriend suggested that I try Williams-Sonoma - she said that they'd probably carry it. 

A trip to the Dermatologist

Hmm.  No takers on my Mission Monday, and hardly anyone for Topical Tuesday?  Am I boring you already?  Or are you guys leaving me for more exciting reads?

I went to the dermatologist today.  I've got a really strange place on the back of my leg and, having already had it looked at once, I wanted a second opinion.  My appointment today was at 11:10, so I checked in at 11.  There were two women in the waiting room, and I went down to the end of the rectangular waiting area and sat near the two of them. Safety in numbers, and all.  I picked up my book and began to read.  A woman came in, and she sat in a different waiting area from the three of us.  Another woman came in, and she sat in that same section.  I began to wonder if there was a sign up somewhere, for these two women were black (African American?  I'm not sure which is the appropriate thing to say, so please be kind to me if I was offensive, and just educate me), and the women who were in the other section were not. 

Subliminal segregation at the dermatologist, or coincidence?  When it happened a THIRD time, I began to become suspicious.

The front desk worker needed HIPPA lessons.  She answered the phones and repeated names, addresses, and social security numbers loudly and with abandon.  One older woman came in with a cane and she was granted the special privilege of giving all of her personal information - name, address, social, date of birth, visa card number and her skin condition - not once, but twice.  It's a good thing I'm not a crook, because I could have had a wild shopping spree with all of this information.

At 11:50, I was called back into the room, and things became interesting very fast.