Horrible title I know, but it's true. I can spot victims of potential crimes from a mile away:
The woman who leaves, not only her purse in the cart as she walks away, but her purse is wide open with her wallet ready to be grabbed.
The people who leave their car running, while they "run" into the store real quick (Note to those that do that with children....you should be arrested for endangerment, no questions. Go ahead and ask me what happened to the child that got left in a car at a gas station in St. Louis, go ahead, I still have nightmares.)
For some reason, I see these situations and turn them into possibilities for criminal actions. I've tried helping people by suggesting they at least close their purse or lock their doors, but then I get looks as though I'm the criminal. Whatever, to each their own stupidity, I guess.
I have discovered in my own home that I am a criminal. It was horrible at first, my moral angel sitting on my shoulder was telling me that it was wrong and I was going to get caught. The OCD devil thing on my other shoulder was listing the positives in the situation in alphabetical order. Sometimes my guilt, brought on by my moral angel, was just too much and I would create places for me to store these items. That was a year ago.
Now that I have almost finished through a year of first grade and preschool projects, my OCD devil has won outright. Now the two of us actually get a thrill from a successful plot.
What am I talking about? Those with kids, are familiar with the war we fight everyday, unless you are a pack rat or hoarder. This fight is against unnecessary things: broken crayons, broken toys, puzzles with pieces missing, random artwork (no, not every little piece of scrap paper they doodle on is special, sorry) or clothes they've grown out of. No, I don't throw it all away, I do give the clothes and usable toys to charities. On occasion, my kids will actually pick out a few things to donate....once a year, just before Christmas.
With toys and clothes I have a three step process. First they just sit on a shelf in their closets for a month or two. If they don't take them out, and either wear them or play with the toy in question, in then goes into the garage. If it makes it successfully into the garage and it's whereabouts aren't questioned, off it goes to charity. Clothes and toys are easy, I've got those down to a science.
Crayons, broken toys and classwork are an entirely different story. These involve a slight of hand that would make any pick pocket jealous. If you fail at this and the child sees you, you are in for crying and/or screaming, plus days of guilt.
We honestly have about 500 crayons, about 100 of them are broken into pieces. Yes, there are those that are crafty, that turn them into disks or whatever in their ovens. I honestly think these people just don't have the will power or the ability to throw the crayons away, and have found another outlet. Suck it up people!
As far as artwork and classwork, if my daughter writes a story or takes her time and draws a picture, I do save those. Same with my son, as far as pictures goes, he's not into writing just yet. However, if it is just regular, daily classwork, then yes, it gets tossed. When my son literally scribbles on paper and hands it to me, so he can scribble on the next paper, yes, those too get tossed.
The problem I have is, I think the pack rate gene skips a generation, because like my mother, my kids will go through the trash can to make sure I haven't thrown anything away.
I accidentally threw away one check when I was younger and my mom went nuts. I'm pretty sure when I visit, she still checks the trash, just in case. Fortunately my kids aren't at that level, but if they throw something away and happen to look down, I usually get the "why did you throw away this?" Ugh!
For those of you that need help with this slight of hand ability, the key is quantity. I will pile their non-important stuff in an area close to the trash can, this makes it seem as though I'm keeping every little thing. Then you wait until the high junk mail day comes, you know what I mean, that one day you get all sorts of random ads in the mail. Anyway, you go through it and make sure you pile those things on top of the non-important pile. Then you slide all that into the waste basket. The junk mail on top disguises what is underneath, and there is usually so much that the quantity isn't questioned. Either that, or you throw it away as you take the trash out to the bin, but you better be good at slight of hand, otherwise you are in for it.
Crayons and toys are trickier, because they usually make a thud in the trash can, no matter how full the stupid thing is. That small noise will bring the kids running as if there is a fire, be cautious. Piles by the non-important stuff seems to work too. The key here is quantity also, however the fewer the better in this case.
If you manage to think about these things when the kids are at school, then you have a huge safety net and your success rate should be really good. However, I can never remember until they get home, so I have to be sneaky.
In another post I can share how to eat snacks without your kids finding out. If you have a walk-in pantry, then you are golden. Otherwise, I will share how to get into the chocolate chips without crinkling the bag.
Good luck!
Showing posts with label family. Show all posts
Showing posts with label family. Show all posts
Friday, May 31, 2013
Wednesday, January 23, 2013
What you think you know, you really don't.
I had a conversation with my daughter the other day about what age you "grow-up." I told her how some people thought it was 18 years, but I thought it was more likely to be 25 years of age. Hell, my father is 62 and a baby boomer, so the likelihood of him "growing up" is rather small.
I explained that what I know now is so much more than what I "thought" I knew at 18, and even 25. We discussed the qualities of grown-ups and what makes someone "old enough to know better." I felt really good about this conversation, only because my daughter asks hard questions that a simple "Because, I said so," will not answer.
Of course, something can happen in the blink of an eye that make you change your mind and realize, you know nothing...about anything.
Princess has had some nasty cold that came out of nowhere. We thought she was able to go back to school today, however she just didn't make it. Her teacher called and asked if I would like to come get her. She has a wonderful teacher, who explained that she was hanging in there, but Princess' eyes just didn't look well. Princess' eyes are pretty much the doors to her soul, she cannot tell a lie. Her eyes will tell you everything about her.
Little Dude and I left immediately to go pick her up from school. The moment when I realized everything I thought I knew about fear, I had no clue. As soon as I walked into the office to sign her out, I was ushered into an inner office and told to sit down and be quiet. While they locked doors, turned off lights and made an announcement over the loud speakers, that they were in lock-down and it was not a drill, I sat with Little Dude absolutely helpless.
Within seconds (yes, it was timed) that school went from happy kids at lunch, to a desolate campus. All the lights were turned off, every window and door was shut and locked, and there was no noise. Little Dude doesn't like the dark, but I think he knew he shouldn't say anything, because he just sat there.
It turned out, some idiot decided to make a prank call. Instead of taking precious minutes to decide whether it was a hoax or not, my daughter's school took action and decided, better safe than sorry. As I type this now, I am absolutely thrilled they did this. Even after speaking to the person who made the lock-down decision, she said, "90% of the time it's a hoax," and then left what we were both thinking, unsaid.
The fear I speak of is, is being 30 feet from your child's classroom and not being able to see or comfort her in any way. It's not being able to protect her. It's realizing that, not only you cannot protect one child, you brought your other child right into the middle of something. It's also being the parents, outside the gates who have no idea what is going on, when police cars are surrounding your child's school.
I'm very glad that nothing happened. I'm very glad that the school I put a lot of trust in to help raise my child, reacted the way they did.
There are many thoughts racing through my head right now as the left-over adrenalin is coursing through my body. The conversation about being "grown-up" happens to be one of them. At that moment when fear for my kids hit me, I realized I still don't know as much as I think I do.
I explained that what I know now is so much more than what I "thought" I knew at 18, and even 25. We discussed the qualities of grown-ups and what makes someone "old enough to know better." I felt really good about this conversation, only because my daughter asks hard questions that a simple "Because, I said so," will not answer.
Of course, something can happen in the blink of an eye that make you change your mind and realize, you know nothing...about anything.
Princess has had some nasty cold that came out of nowhere. We thought she was able to go back to school today, however she just didn't make it. Her teacher called and asked if I would like to come get her. She has a wonderful teacher, who explained that she was hanging in there, but Princess' eyes just didn't look well. Princess' eyes are pretty much the doors to her soul, she cannot tell a lie. Her eyes will tell you everything about her.
Little Dude and I left immediately to go pick her up from school. The moment when I realized everything I thought I knew about fear, I had no clue. As soon as I walked into the office to sign her out, I was ushered into an inner office and told to sit down and be quiet. While they locked doors, turned off lights and made an announcement over the loud speakers, that they were in lock-down and it was not a drill, I sat with Little Dude absolutely helpless.
Within seconds (yes, it was timed) that school went from happy kids at lunch, to a desolate campus. All the lights were turned off, every window and door was shut and locked, and there was no noise. Little Dude doesn't like the dark, but I think he knew he shouldn't say anything, because he just sat there.
It turned out, some idiot decided to make a prank call. Instead of taking precious minutes to decide whether it was a hoax or not, my daughter's school took action and decided, better safe than sorry. As I type this now, I am absolutely thrilled they did this. Even after speaking to the person who made the lock-down decision, she said, "90% of the time it's a hoax," and then left what we were both thinking, unsaid.
The fear I speak of is, is being 30 feet from your child's classroom and not being able to see or comfort her in any way. It's not being able to protect her. It's realizing that, not only you cannot protect one child, you brought your other child right into the middle of something. It's also being the parents, outside the gates who have no idea what is going on, when police cars are surrounding your child's school.
I'm very glad that nothing happened. I'm very glad that the school I put a lot of trust in to help raise my child, reacted the way they did.
There are many thoughts racing through my head right now as the left-over adrenalin is coursing through my body. The conversation about being "grown-up" happens to be one of them. At that moment when fear for my kids hit me, I realized I still don't know as much as I think I do.
Thursday, November 29, 2012
And now there are three....
In my last post I discussed the wonderful feelings that go along with being a military spouse as you get ready for deployment time. They suck, plain and simple. It's hard getting ready for your loved one to leave. The hardest part is the day of departure.
The day Military Dad has to leave, we go through our morning routine as usual. Kids are dressed and fed breakfast. During a few moments, I can tell Military Dad is about to break down, so I keep him and the kids busy with tiny distractions. I'm not sure why I do this. Part of me questions whether "protecting" the kids from seeing their father upset about leaving, is even a good thing. Yes, it would upset them, but would it be that bad? Wouldn't they want to know that this isn't easy for him? Wouldn't they want to know that leaving them is breaking his heart? So, I'm not entirely sure who I'm "protecting" at this point, MD, me or them?
At one point, he pulls me aside and says, "I don't know how you can be so strong?!"
Really? I'm going nutso on the inside, so now I'm confused as to how I look on the outside, because somehow I look like I have it all together. Yay?
We decided he would wait until the kids were both in school before he would start his trip. Fortunately, I guess, the kids didn't really react the way we thought they would. We were prepared for anguish, crying and having to tear kids off Daddy. Little Dude hugged him and went off to reading circle in preschool, without a tear or look back. Princess got attacked by all of her little friends at school; somehow, despite our genetics, she seems to be a "popular" child. Daddy barely got a hug good-bye, before she was pulled off in the other direction.
We were left rather empty after both kids. No drama at all. In the long run, I think that was the best way; however, when you are prepared for the worst, it kind of comes as a let down.
Everything is packed into the car, and one last check to make sure he has everything he needs...now it is finally that time. This is honestly the worst part in all of this. I have to break the hug, watch him get into the car and drive away. After this, it will actually seem easier because you get into a rhythm and days can drift by. However, the good-bye, right before, is awful.
Sitting here typing this it actually takes me back to two previous deployments and a multitude of underways. (Underways are short periods, usually 1 week up to 3 months). Watching him drive away was actually much easier than watching him deploy on a ship. Deploying on a ship takes HOURS. You may think that makes it easier, because you get to see him and say good-bye longer. It doesn't. It allows you MUCH more time to wallow in pain and self-pity. Plus there are several good-bye periods when they leave on the ship.
The first good-bye is pretty hard because it's the physical one. This is the hugging part, where you break the hug and watch him walk to the ship. Then you keep waving to each other, as he boards the ship. Now comes a period where he disappears for awhile. This is usually where the sailors go to their bunks/rooms and change into their uniforms. MD always wore his "whites" when he deployed.
If you are lucky, now you get to wave at your sailor for more time as they stand on the various decks available on the ship. If your sailor has any involvement in the steering (they call it driving, which is nuts-don't get me started on Navy terms or acronyms, that's an entirely different blog) or engineering sections, you may not get to see them, as they are rather important in the actual departing from the pier.
Now the engines start up, the ship blows its horn, and the lines (ropes) are thrown. This is when your heart leaps from that nice spot in your chest, up into your throat. The ship starts to actually pull away from the pier. This is when you look around and notice the difference between the first-timer spouses and the ones who have done this before. The first-timers aren't able to hide their tears; they are going between bawling and hysterics. The spouses who have been there, done that, are wiping away tears they allow to fall, underneath their sunglasses (yes, it's probably dark outside, but they don't care). Then they take those deep breaths and walk to their cars, usually dragging 2-3 kids.
First-timers, I'm not making fun of the water works, I was there and I waited until I couldn't see that stupid ship on the horizon, before I left. The only difference, is now I know how much easier it is to deal with stuff if I get onto a schedule. Also, if anyone tries to have a conversation with one of those "experienced" spouses, it will end badly. We may look all tough and composed, but if you try to talk to us about our spouse leaving, wow.....flood gate of emotion, snot and tears. We keep sane by the mantra: "out of sight, out of mind." Also, lots of wine.
It's been two days and I'm finally to the point of having a decent conversation with someone without crying. The sunglasses are still on, but hey, at least I'm not tearing up anymore.
Having a conversation with Little Dude's teacher nearly broke me when I picked him up that afternoon. I forgot to leave my sunglasses on! She asked how I was doing, which was awful (for me, not her-she was showing concern which any other day, I would appreciate)...I could answer yes/no questions, not talk about my feelings. I quickly put my sunglasses on and somehow managed to get through the rest of the conversation.
I have to get a handle on it, because I volunteer in Princess' class on Friday. If her class does that switch rooms thing, there will be a solid 4 minutes where she can ask me how things are going! So I will end here for now, so I can get immersed into my schedule.
Plus I think our wine fridge is running quite low....Trader Joe's here I come!
The day Military Dad has to leave, we go through our morning routine as usual. Kids are dressed and fed breakfast. During a few moments, I can tell Military Dad is about to break down, so I keep him and the kids busy with tiny distractions. I'm not sure why I do this. Part of me questions whether "protecting" the kids from seeing their father upset about leaving, is even a good thing. Yes, it would upset them, but would it be that bad? Wouldn't they want to know that this isn't easy for him? Wouldn't they want to know that leaving them is breaking his heart? So, I'm not entirely sure who I'm "protecting" at this point, MD, me or them?
At one point, he pulls me aside and says, "I don't know how you can be so strong?!"
Really? I'm going nutso on the inside, so now I'm confused as to how I look on the outside, because somehow I look like I have it all together. Yay?
We decided he would wait until the kids were both in school before he would start his trip. Fortunately, I guess, the kids didn't really react the way we thought they would. We were prepared for anguish, crying and having to tear kids off Daddy. Little Dude hugged him and went off to reading circle in preschool, without a tear or look back. Princess got attacked by all of her little friends at school; somehow, despite our genetics, she seems to be a "popular" child. Daddy barely got a hug good-bye, before she was pulled off in the other direction.
We were left rather empty after both kids. No drama at all. In the long run, I think that was the best way; however, when you are prepared for the worst, it kind of comes as a let down.
Everything is packed into the car, and one last check to make sure he has everything he needs...now it is finally that time. This is honestly the worst part in all of this. I have to break the hug, watch him get into the car and drive away. After this, it will actually seem easier because you get into a rhythm and days can drift by. However, the good-bye, right before, is awful.
Sitting here typing this it actually takes me back to two previous deployments and a multitude of underways. (Underways are short periods, usually 1 week up to 3 months). Watching him drive away was actually much easier than watching him deploy on a ship. Deploying on a ship takes HOURS. You may think that makes it easier, because you get to see him and say good-bye longer. It doesn't. It allows you MUCH more time to wallow in pain and self-pity. Plus there are several good-bye periods when they leave on the ship.
The first good-bye is pretty hard because it's the physical one. This is the hugging part, where you break the hug and watch him walk to the ship. Then you keep waving to each other, as he boards the ship. Now comes a period where he disappears for awhile. This is usually where the sailors go to their bunks/rooms and change into their uniforms. MD always wore his "whites" when he deployed.
If you are lucky, now you get to wave at your sailor for more time as they stand on the various decks available on the ship. If your sailor has any involvement in the steering (they call it driving, which is nuts-don't get me started on Navy terms or acronyms, that's an entirely different blog) or engineering sections, you may not get to see them, as they are rather important in the actual departing from the pier.
Now the engines start up, the ship blows its horn, and the lines (ropes) are thrown. This is when your heart leaps from that nice spot in your chest, up into your throat. The ship starts to actually pull away from the pier. This is when you look around and notice the difference between the first-timer spouses and the ones who have done this before. The first-timers aren't able to hide their tears; they are going between bawling and hysterics. The spouses who have been there, done that, are wiping away tears they allow to fall, underneath their sunglasses (yes, it's probably dark outside, but they don't care). Then they take those deep breaths and walk to their cars, usually dragging 2-3 kids.
First-timers, I'm not making fun of the water works, I was there and I waited until I couldn't see that stupid ship on the horizon, before I left. The only difference, is now I know how much easier it is to deal with stuff if I get onto a schedule. Also, if anyone tries to have a conversation with one of those "experienced" spouses, it will end badly. We may look all tough and composed, but if you try to talk to us about our spouse leaving, wow.....flood gate of emotion, snot and tears. We keep sane by the mantra: "out of sight, out of mind." Also, lots of wine.
It's been two days and I'm finally to the point of having a decent conversation with someone without crying. The sunglasses are still on, but hey, at least I'm not tearing up anymore.
Having a conversation with Little Dude's teacher nearly broke me when I picked him up that afternoon. I forgot to leave my sunglasses on! She asked how I was doing, which was awful (for me, not her-she was showing concern which any other day, I would appreciate)...I could answer yes/no questions, not talk about my feelings. I quickly put my sunglasses on and somehow managed to get through the rest of the conversation.
I have to get a handle on it, because I volunteer in Princess' class on Friday. If her class does that switch rooms thing, there will be a solid 4 minutes where she can ask me how things are going! So I will end here for now, so I can get immersed into my schedule.
Plus I think our wine fridge is running quite low....Trader Joe's here I come!
Tuesday, June 19, 2012
Yay! We get to watch TV, it's not the weekend!
Sorry for no posts lately, we have been BUSY!
We moved into a new house and we are finally on the "other side" of unpacking, painting, etc. Due to the packing, cleaning, moving, unpacking, cleaning frenzy that has been going on over the past month or so, my children have been allowed to watch way more television than normal. Yes, I'm one of those parents who don't allow their kids to watch too much television.
I'm also one of those parents that make their kids watch PBS or educational shows. Little Dude has enough problems trying to whack Princess with his Medieval Times sword, that I don't need him to get new ideas from Tom & Jerry or Looney Tunes. Plus some of these new cartoons...I just don't understand, they aren't funny to me or the kids, and who writes this stuff? Is there even a plot? What about character development?
To add to my TV restrictions, Military Dad and I both sit down to watch the shows with our kids, to ensure we know what they are watching.
I understand the need for a little down time where the kids are entertained for 30 minute sessions where you can check email, do dishes or even post on a blog. However, I have serious issues with leaving the television on all day instead of interacting with my own kids. Little Dude gets bored easily, so 1 or 2 shows is about his attention span, so the electronic babysitter isn't an option. Princess would sit in front of the TV the entire day, if allowed, she has what my parents have labelled, "Guy's Disease."
"Guy's Disease" is when a person (usually a guy, hence the name) can enter any place and situate themselves where they can see any TV. Then they have an inability to look away and carry on normal conversations with the people with them. Yes, I have this horrible trait and I evidently passed it on to Princess.
Anyway, Military Dad and I recently discussed the amount of TV we ALL have been watching recently and decided that since we live in California, there isn't really any reason to be inside that much. During the week, the kids get 2 shows each that they get to watch during the day, while Daddy is at work. Then on the weekends there is absolutely no TV, forcing us to go outside, enjoy the weather and do family stuff.
We started this new idea this weekend; the kids weren't too excited about it, but after spending a few hours at the beach, the kids didn't care so much.
After breakfast and some homemade Play-dough time, the kids decided since it was Tuesday AND a weekday, they would like to watch TV. "Mommy, can we PLEASE watch TV? It IS a weekday!"
After answering yes, I hear my kids singing: "Yay! We can watch TV! We can watch TV! It's not the weekend, we can watch TV!"
I had to laugh at their excitement, is TV really that exciting? I guess, if you aren't allowed to do something all day, everyday, then it may be worth a song or two.
Well, Mickey Mouse Clubhouse is over, so it's time to end my post for today. Plus I now have the "Hot Dog" song stuck in my head!
We moved into a new house and we are finally on the "other side" of unpacking, painting, etc. Due to the packing, cleaning, moving, unpacking, cleaning frenzy that has been going on over the past month or so, my children have been allowed to watch way more television than normal. Yes, I'm one of those parents who don't allow their kids to watch too much television.
I'm also one of those parents that make their kids watch PBS or educational shows. Little Dude has enough problems trying to whack Princess with his Medieval Times sword, that I don't need him to get new ideas from Tom & Jerry or Looney Tunes. Plus some of these new cartoons...I just don't understand, they aren't funny to me or the kids, and who writes this stuff? Is there even a plot? What about character development?
To add to my TV restrictions, Military Dad and I both sit down to watch the shows with our kids, to ensure we know what they are watching.
I understand the need for a little down time where the kids are entertained for 30 minute sessions where you can check email, do dishes or even post on a blog. However, I have serious issues with leaving the television on all day instead of interacting with my own kids. Little Dude gets bored easily, so 1 or 2 shows is about his attention span, so the electronic babysitter isn't an option. Princess would sit in front of the TV the entire day, if allowed, she has what my parents have labelled, "Guy's Disease."
"Guy's Disease" is when a person (usually a guy, hence the name) can enter any place and situate themselves where they can see any TV. Then they have an inability to look away and carry on normal conversations with the people with them. Yes, I have this horrible trait and I evidently passed it on to Princess.
Anyway, Military Dad and I recently discussed the amount of TV we ALL have been watching recently and decided that since we live in California, there isn't really any reason to be inside that much. During the week, the kids get 2 shows each that they get to watch during the day, while Daddy is at work. Then on the weekends there is absolutely no TV, forcing us to go outside, enjoy the weather and do family stuff.
We started this new idea this weekend; the kids weren't too excited about it, but after spending a few hours at the beach, the kids didn't care so much.
After breakfast and some homemade Play-dough time, the kids decided since it was Tuesday AND a weekday, they would like to watch TV. "Mommy, can we PLEASE watch TV? It IS a weekday!"
After answering yes, I hear my kids singing: "Yay! We can watch TV! We can watch TV! It's not the weekend, we can watch TV!"
I had to laugh at their excitement, is TV really that exciting? I guess, if you aren't allowed to do something all day, everyday, then it may be worth a song or two.
Well, Mickey Mouse Clubhouse is over, so it's time to end my post for today. Plus I now have the "Hot Dog" song stuck in my head!
Sunday, May 27, 2012
Things that are Important in Life
Being a military wife teaches you to value certain things above all others. Family, friends and wine are definitely at the top of the list. Throughout the years, your definition of family changes to include some really close friends. Many times during a military career your family is uprooted and moved. Even if you aren't required to move, your friends will be at some point.
At some point you would think you could get used to the constant changes, but I think it is what makes you grab onto something tighter. In each move, we have been fortunate to find that one set of friends that makes a military career seem worth the constant upheaval. Those friends are now threaded into the cloth of your definition of family.
These "sisters" of mine understand the joys and sorrows of military wifedom. We can sit down and have a glass (or three) of wine and laugh, cry or scream at something without fear of judgement. They will be brutally honest and tell you when you have snot running down your face, but it's that honesty you respect and love. We are our own therapists, sisters, mothers and often times a reality check.
We can "complain" about our husbands and/or their jobs, knowing that the person listening knows we are just venting, because we wouldn't change our husband for anything. (We'd change the job in a heart beat, but only because we worry for their safety.) We can "complain" that we have put on hold or thrown away careers to support our family and husbands, when in reality we know we've traded an easier "job" for a much more difficult career as a military wife and mother.
It's a very hard job being involved in any way with the military, be it enlisted or officer, spouse or family. Once you have found that special bond or connection with someone who understands what you are going through, don't let them go! Stay in touch, you are each other's support system, no matter the distance. For any new recruits into this strange world of military spouse: if you haven't made that connection, keep looking, we are out there! There is someone out there who will help you get through that awful first deployment or your seventh. It's a strange, often screwed-up club, but we are always open for new members!
Here is a toast to my girls that have moved or are moving away soon: Text, Skype or Call, we can have a cyber glass of wine (or three) together!
Thursday, May 3, 2012
Sick kids
Kids take being sick as a personal injustice against their playtime. Adults on the other hand would relish a day to be sick and lie in bed all day. I'm obviously not talking serious illness, I don't wish that on anyone. If anyone reading this is sick then I wish you a very speedy recovery!
I'm sitting at home with an unhappy 3 year old boy who has a fever. A fever is about the only thing that slows Little Dude down. He has actually come to a complete stop as he is sprawled across me in a rocking chair.
As a parent I am torn in how I should feel. Every parent wishes that their child never gets ill, yes I'm including sniffles! A sick child is just absolutely miserable. They don't understand why they are sick, they just know that all of a sudden there bodies don't feel good and they can't play or get comfortable in any way. Sweet Buddha sometimes they are just crabby too, oy the fits a child can have! As a parent you feel absolutely helpless.
For those of us without medical degrees, we start looking up symptoms on WebMD or Google. Never, ever do this! A simple ingrown hair could be a broken arm to brain cancer, leave the diagnosis up to qualified people!
Your asking, why should I feel torn? Torn about what?
When your child is sick, what do they do? They come to you, on purpose, and want loves and cuddles.
Princess has always been the hugging type, she is very much like her father. When she's sick she just wants to lie beside you and bask in the nearness. She will also want hugs every few minutes to feel better.
Little Dude, on the other hand, is not much for constant hugging or cuddles. He will participate in the good night or good bye hugs and kisses, but otherwise he is his own person. He is a lot like me, unfortunately. Yes, unfortunately.
Fortunately over 10 years with my husband and his constant hugging, I've been worn down, I actually enjoy and look forward to it. Having kids has made the hugs even better. How do you say "no" to unconditional love? You don't!
So as Little Dude has finally made himself comfortable enough to sleep for a little bit, I'm torn between feeling bad because he's sick and enjoying this slice of affection that he doesn't normally dish out.
I think I'm going to soak up the loves for now. When he wakes up feeling better, I'll try to steal a few more hugs before he comes to his senses.
I'm sitting at home with an unhappy 3 year old boy who has a fever. A fever is about the only thing that slows Little Dude down. He has actually come to a complete stop as he is sprawled across me in a rocking chair.
As a parent I am torn in how I should feel. Every parent wishes that their child never gets ill, yes I'm including sniffles! A sick child is just absolutely miserable. They don't understand why they are sick, they just know that all of a sudden there bodies don't feel good and they can't play or get comfortable in any way. Sweet Buddha sometimes they are just crabby too, oy the fits a child can have! As a parent you feel absolutely helpless.
For those of us without medical degrees, we start looking up symptoms on WebMD or Google. Never, ever do this! A simple ingrown hair could be a broken arm to brain cancer, leave the diagnosis up to qualified people!
Your asking, why should I feel torn? Torn about what?
When your child is sick, what do they do? They come to you, on purpose, and want loves and cuddles.
Princess has always been the hugging type, she is very much like her father. When she's sick she just wants to lie beside you and bask in the nearness. She will also want hugs every few minutes to feel better.
Little Dude, on the other hand, is not much for constant hugging or cuddles. He will participate in the good night or good bye hugs and kisses, but otherwise he is his own person. He is a lot like me, unfortunately. Yes, unfortunately.
Fortunately over 10 years with my husband and his constant hugging, I've been worn down, I actually enjoy and look forward to it. Having kids has made the hugs even better. How do you say "no" to unconditional love? You don't!
So as Little Dude has finally made himself comfortable enough to sleep for a little bit, I'm torn between feeling bad because he's sick and enjoying this slice of affection that he doesn't normally dish out.
I think I'm going to soak up the loves for now. When he wakes up feeling better, I'll try to steal a few more hugs before he comes to his senses.
Friday, April 27, 2012
Our Super Secret Squirrel Code Names
My husband began blogging before I did, so I will use his code names for us in my future posts.
My daughter, Princess, will be turning 6 in a few months and is definitely a princess. Our hope for a tomboy has been annihilated several times with her. She loves to go outside and play, she even gets so completely dirty, I honestly have no idea how she does it. It's what she goes outside to play in that we know we are in trouble. Skirts, dresses, tights, ballet slippers, costume jewelry, etc.
If she isn't dressed up to the nines, then she is playing "teacher" in the house. She sets up chairs and stuffed animals (sometimes her little brother) and will read to them all day. She even yells at them for talking during class or not sitting correctly.
My son, Little Dude, recently turned 3 and he is definitely all boy. He makes me very appreciative that my daughter is a princess as a balancing mechanism. If there is anything to climb, jump off of or destroy within a mile radius, he has already done it...twice. When he gets caught, he has this smile that will get him out of trouble every time. Later in life, I think it will actually get him into trouble too!
He is called Little Dude due to the fact that he has always been little. We were worried for several years because he just wouldn't cooperate with the growth and weight charts. We finally realized that he just has this energy level that will not allow him to put on any fat. This little guy actually has muscle mass on his arms! I believe that he is just stubborn enough, that he allows his body to grow when he decides it's a good idea.
My husband's name is Military Dad, because he is a LT in the US Navy, and well...because he's a father. His code name is pretty simple.
My name on his blog for me is CinC House. The CinC (pronounced sync) stands for Commander in Chief, and obviously outranks him. I'm obviously not THE Commander in Chief, so for clarification purposes we added the House designation. It's actually more of a fun way to say I'm the bossy one.
I am currently a stay-at-home mom. I did work during the first year with Princess, but we found that it was sadly cheaper for me to stay at home than work & pay for daycare. Now, I'm finding I like it. I come from a career family, meaning both of my parents worked. They did not have a choice to stay home as I do, so I grew up with that mindset.
Now picture yourself with this mindset, then marry a military person, where you are required to move every 2-4 years, while having your spouse gone for 2/3 of that time. For those of you who don't know, it wreaks havoc on everything. So I decided it was easier to screw the career; I have a full-time job being a mom AND keeping myself sane (mostly).
My daughter, Princess, will be turning 6 in a few months and is definitely a princess. Our hope for a tomboy has been annihilated several times with her. She loves to go outside and play, she even gets so completely dirty, I honestly have no idea how she does it. It's what she goes outside to play in that we know we are in trouble. Skirts, dresses, tights, ballet slippers, costume jewelry, etc.
If she isn't dressed up to the nines, then she is playing "teacher" in the house. She sets up chairs and stuffed animals (sometimes her little brother) and will read to them all day. She even yells at them for talking during class or not sitting correctly.
My son, Little Dude, recently turned 3 and he is definitely all boy. He makes me very appreciative that my daughter is a princess as a balancing mechanism. If there is anything to climb, jump off of or destroy within a mile radius, he has already done it...twice. When he gets caught, he has this smile that will get him out of trouble every time. Later in life, I think it will actually get him into trouble too!
He is called Little Dude due to the fact that he has always been little. We were worried for several years because he just wouldn't cooperate with the growth and weight charts. We finally realized that he just has this energy level that will not allow him to put on any fat. This little guy actually has muscle mass on his arms! I believe that he is just stubborn enough, that he allows his body to grow when he decides it's a good idea.
My husband's name is Military Dad, because he is a LT in the US Navy, and well...because he's a father. His code name is pretty simple.
My name on his blog for me is CinC House. The CinC (pronounced sync) stands for Commander in Chief, and obviously outranks him. I'm obviously not THE Commander in Chief, so for clarification purposes we added the House designation. It's actually more of a fun way to say I'm the bossy one.
I am currently a stay-at-home mom. I did work during the first year with Princess, but we found that it was sadly cheaper for me to stay at home than work & pay for daycare. Now, I'm finding I like it. I come from a career family, meaning both of my parents worked. They did not have a choice to stay home as I do, so I grew up with that mindset.
Now picture yourself with this mindset, then marry a military person, where you are required to move every 2-4 years, while having your spouse gone for 2/3 of that time. For those of you who don't know, it wreaks havoc on everything. So I decided it was easier to screw the career; I have a full-time job being a mom AND keeping myself sane (mostly).
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