Random

Enough With Summer Vacation Already!

Disclaimer:  Read at your own risk.  The following may, or may not, come across as a negative tirade of complaints from a super exhausted mother of three.  The fact is it was, in fact, written by a tired and drained mother of three, but is not a true reflection of this tired mother of three’s character and mental stability.  It is simply a brief glimpse into a brief moment of a mindless brain spill (something that happens every so often when a perfectly good mommy lacks a perfectly good nights rest).  

I feel like the “Friday Scrooge”.  I was just on Facebook, reading the Friday morning status updates of all my friends and felt a twinge of conviction that I do not share the same “Friday Feel-Good” sentiments.  In fact, had I not read a dozen “TGIF’s” on Facebook, I wouldn’t have known what day it was.  Of course, I can’t tell people this (and yet, here I am sharing freely with everyone and blogging about it too, which probably makes me look both pessimistic and contradictory).  So, before I lie and post “Amy is ready to get her Friday on”, I have to stop and explain why I’m not quite in the “Friday Spirit”.  It actually has nothing to do with Friday at all.  The negativity I have stems from a deeper emotional and physical drain called “Summer Vacation”.

 

For the past two-and-a-half months my oldest has been out of school (and my middle child has been out of preschool).  We have approximately three-and-a-half weeks left of summer break, and I’m literally counting down the days, hours, and minutes until I can shuffle Sydney out the door for the day!  I had activities planned and prepared for the majority of June and July, but by the time August rolled around I was out of both creativity and money.  This is not to imply weakness or lack of capability on my part.  As I looked ahead to the hectic fall schedule we would soon be jumping into - the endless car trips to and from school, church, ballet lessons, playgroup, etc. - I surmised that a little August down time would be beneficial to us all me.  I’m so excited, not just for Sydney to head off to school (and Brooklyn off to preschool), but also for fall in general.  However, while trying to take care of myself in preparation for September, my intense and activity-driven firstborn is starting to climb the walls.  Our needs are butting heads, and nobody is happy.

 

Don’t get me wrong.  There have been quite a few wonderful highlights we’ve shared while the kids have been on break.  We spent a couple of days at the coast: playing in the sand, making homemade pizzas, staying up late cuddling and watching movies into the wee hours of the night; we’ve gone swimming, participated in camps, had play dates and sleepovers.  It’s been great.  We’ve connected, made memories, and bonded as a family.  However, August is here, and Mommy wants to slow down.  Mommy doesn’t want to race to the park and pool multiple times a day.  And I find it difficult to relish in “Friday” when there really isn’t anything that differentiates Friday from any other day on the calendar right now.  Each day sort of blends in to the next, and I am so looking forward to the structure of school, the rigorous weekly schedule, and multiple activities for the simple reason that Friday will, once again, mean more to me than just another day.

 

As my need for rest and the need of my first grader to be active collide, I wonder if there is hope in getting through the final weeks of summer vacation.  Alas, one survival skill I have learned is to give her lots and lots and lots of things to do.  When I start to see that glimmer of misbehavior gleam in her eye, I give her a cleaning rag and send her off dusting.  When that is done, I task her to sweep the floors downstairs (which she is doing at this very moment), organize her drawers and bedroom toys, etc, etc.  If it means my desk being dusted daily for the next couple of weeks, rather than a whining and disruptive Sydney, I’m okay with that.  I’m finding that her boredom could possibly work to my advantage, ie: a clean house.

 

So, here’s my honest to goodness Friday Facebook status update: “Amy is conjuring up multitudes of chores for her kids to do today to beat the Summer Break Blues”.  Tomorrow may possibly look exactly the same, and the following day, and the day after that until finally all the World Wide Web will read, “Amy is celebrating the beginning of school and the return of TGIF” (“TGIF” meaning “Thank God Its Fall”), with a spotless house no less.  Until that day comes, I will have to live with the feeling that I am nothing more than a “Friday Scrooge”, keeping that only to myself (and every one who reads my blog), while wearing the façade that I, too, love Fridays and the opportunity to spend another glorious and magical summer day with my children. 

 

Oy vey – bring on fall!

 

By the way, I'm not the only one in this scenario who is longing for summer vacation to end.  Daily, both of my girls ask me how many more days until school starts.  We're all in this together.

"One In A Million"

There is nothing more unnerving than sitting in a hospital waiting room with the theme music from “Terms of Endearment” playing in the background.  (I think someone messed up on the music selection.)  As I was waiting to have a CT Scan of my sinuses such music was playing overhead, and – while I was not there for anything serious – I couldn’t help but tear up a little bit.  Just as my heart rate began escalating and the palms of my hands went cold and clammy, I heard my name being called by the technician signaling my escape from the depressing mood music.  The scan lasted all of two minutes, and I was free to go.   

I’m rare…very rare.  I guess you could say I am “One In A Million”.  I wish it were due to my unique personality and winning smile, or because of some hidden talent that very few people possess.  Unfortunately, my claim to fame is far from such an assertion.  So, what sets me apart from the rest of the populace?  Nasal Polyps Disease.  Approximately 2% of the population suffers from these benign intranasal tumors.  Of that 2%, the ratio of men to women presenting with this disease is 2 to 1.  I’m not certain of the percentage breakdown on that, but it would appear to me that I fall into a very small and rare category of women.  Which I believe makes me “One In A Million”. 

 

Usually falling in the category of “One In A Million” would consequently mean, “it’s never going to happen”.  For instance, the average person - like you and me - may have a one in a million chance of winning the lottery, or conceiving a baby after the age of sixty or meeting the Queen of England.

 

In my case, I did in fact win the lottery.  The  “Nasal Polyposis/Chronic Sinusitis” lottery! 

 

Joking aside, there are many other traits I hold that set me apart from the rest of society.  We are all “One In A Million”, if we are willing to open our eyes and receive God’s truth about us.  While there is a very small percentage of people that will win the Nobel Peace Prize or climb to the highest peak of Mt. Everest, God’s creativity can be seen in each and every human being on the planet.  I know personally that I don’t stop and think about this on a regular basis.  I fail to appreciate all that God has designed.  I’m so accustomed to looking at the negativity in the world, rather than the beauty and value that each person holds.  We are God’s workmanship.  We are more than “One In A Million”…we are that one unlike any other one.  What a different world this would be if we would all learn to embrace our unique and unparalleled design and see ourselves the way God does.

 

On the night you were born, the moon smiled with such wonder that the stars peeked in to see you and the night wind whispered, “Life will never be the same.”

Because there had never been anyone like you…ever in the world…

…You are the one and only ever you… 

For never before in story or rhyme (not even once upon a time) has the world ever known a you, my friend, and it never will, not ever again… 

Heaven blew every trumpet and played every horn on the wonderful, marvelous night you were born.

…Wonderful…Marvelous…You…

- Excerpt from “On The Night You Were Born” by Nancy Tillman

 

You ARE "One In a Million"!

 

Heatwave

It's been hot.  Hot, hot...HOT!  The Great Northwest has been experiencing a record breaking heatwave, and we have been in survival mode.  When we realized that the Ziploc baggies filled with ice, and stripping down to our undies while sitting on the floor in front of a fan wasn't working for us anymore (ice was melting faster than we could keep the baggies filled), it was "pack the bags and over the river and through the woods to my husband's parents' house we go".  They graciously, and I mean GRACIOUSLY, opened their home to our brood of wild animals, and we've been camping here for most of the week.  They have air conditioning...we don't. Why, you may ask, don't we have A/C?  Well, apparently "out here" A/C is not considered a necessity, thus they do not build homes with air conditioning in them.  We bought our home four years ago, brand new, and if we wanted to have A/C it would have cost us several thousand dollars more to have it installed.  Since simply buying the home was miracle enough for us, scraping up an additional three thousand dollars wasn't going to happen anytime soon.  Joel and I are pretty adaptable people too, and figured we could buck up for the one week of summer weather we get per year. 

We've managed to survive the past three summers of upper 90's/low triple digit summer highs, but not this year.  "Grumpy Amy" just couldn't take it anymore.  I can't do the whole "human jungle-gym" when the indoor temp is registering close to 111*.  My whole M.K. heritage (and pride of growing up in Africa) has flown right out the window, and I haven't once felt guilty about it.  Nope, as I sit here with the cool breeze of air conditioning gently blowing on my neck, I do not feel an ounce of regret, failure or shame.  Me and my clan are happy campers, and I couldn't be more content.

This blog post, while completely random and seemingly pointless, is mostly a "shout out" to my in-laws.  They have spared my husband and children from the wrath of "Grumpy Amy", which is a priceless gift to all of us.  Times like this are a huge reminder to me of how absolutely blessed I am to have such a sweet and generous family.  While the heatwave is blasting it's way through the Great Northwest, we are "shiny, happy people" sittin' pretty in a home full of (not just) love and blessed (oh sweet blessed) air conditioning.

Time for a nice cool glass of lemonade...

She's Come Undone (Almost)

I’m a crazy woman.  Being the “tech-novice” that I am – and by "tech-novice" I mean a person who lives in a constant state of fear that I am one keystroke away from crashing my computer – decided that not only would I start blogging, but I would also purchase and host my own domain.  So simple, I know (note the sarcasm in my voice).  The domain ownership was not exactly my bright idea.  A friend of mine encouraged me to consider this option, seeing that it could be a strategic move for me down the road.  My initial feeling was to wait, not because I didn’t believe my friend or see the wisdom in her advice.  I was mostly just plain scared to venture into the cyber-world – I am completely cyber-illiterate, you know.  However, after thinking it over for a few days, I resigned myself to the fact that this was, indeed, something I needed to do – sooner rather than later.  So, I took the plunge!

The “easy” part was purchasing the domain and rights to host (and I had a lot of help, too).  Next came the actual creation of the blog.  My brain hurt, my eyes hurt and, at this moment, my mental state is teetering on the brink of insanity.  I’ve pulled my hair, slapped my face, and grunted multiple times at the computer, smacking keys and stomping my feet.  It’s been quite the week.  It was when I started talking to myself in the third person that I decided I needed to take a break and do a little writing.  I didn’t want to unravel right before my children’s eyes, and I‘m a much sweeter mommy when I’m writing.

 As I’ve had a few hours to mull over the week’s events, working with my little sliver of “cyber-pie”, I came up with three lessons I’m learning through this process:

  •  It is never as simple as “just click on this”.  One click leads to another click, which leads to another click.  You have to keep clicking until you reach your desired outcome.  And then, there are usually five more steps to take beyond that.  So, just keep on clicking - which leads to my second lesson… 
  • Clicking on things will not, in fact, crash the computer.  It is actually a great way to explore, learn, and discover all the wonderful intricacies that cyber space has to offer.  Don’t know what “plugins” or "widgets" are?  Just click.
  •  And lastly, while the process may be long and arduous, the end result is well worth it.  (I haven’t quite made it to “the end” yet, but I am highly optimistic that I am going to be very satisfied when I do, indeed, get there.)

 That said:  I just want to say a huge “thank you” to Amy, James, and “Hawkeye” (my new friend at godaddy.com).  You are my own personal “geek squad” – and by “geek” I am in no way insinuating that you are geeks.  You are all super cool in my book and have spared me from coming completely undone. 

 Break time is over, and now back to my blog…

Do The Monkey

As I plopped back into my chair, heart racing and completely out of breadth from doing the “Monkey, Monkey” with the Wiggles, I had an epiphany, of sorts. Who says that stay-at-home moms don’t exercise? I’ve often beat myself to a pulp over the fact that by the time I’ve successfully taken care of all the needs of my household, plus managed to squeeze in a hot shower and throw on some make-up (we don’t want to scare the children), that I haven’t chiseled out at least thirty minutes for a heart pumping workout. I haven’t “Sweat To The Oldies” or knocked a lamp to the floor and stubbed my toe kickin’ it “old school” with Billy Blanks’ “Tae Bo – Advanced Total Body Workout” in years. (And, might I just add, both of these classics I happen to own on video-cassette – well, at least the Tae Bo one for sure - which simply proves how long it has been since I’ve been in workout mode!) The guilt plagues me. I see cute little mommies run by my house pushing their only offspring around in their top-of-the-line jogging strollers and I get depressed. I suppose I could pile all three of my kids into our six-year-old Graco deluxe stroller and go for a spin, but someone might get hurt - like me. I could seriously pull something you know. This morning Jackson, our number one Wiggles fan, dragged my mommy rear away from the computer and begged me to dance with him. So…I did. We “mashed bananas”, did the “monkey, monkey” and danced with Henry the Octopus. Once my little man’s love tank was full to overflowing from the quality time I spent with him cuttin’ loose with the Wiggles, I eased my way back into my comfy chair and that is when it hit me. I’m getting a workout every single day just keeping up with my three small “Monkey, Monkeys”! I’m climbing things – bunk beds, play structures and stairs – lifting weights (my children), and stretching almost every muscle in my body as I work my way through the house keeping it neat and orderly. I’m a workout machine!

Side note: I could seriously create my own workout video (I think they’re actually called DVD’s and Blu Ray these days). I could share all my fabulous moves with all the other stay-at-home-with-two-or-more-children mommies. I could be the next fitness guru, create and empire and retire at 40 – my…how the mind gets carried away.

Snapping back to reality…

I love being a stay-at-home mom. Even though I don’t get to don the cute workout clothes and jog around the neighborhood - inflicting envy on all the other women gazing out their front windows - I am grateful for what I do have. My workouts are small but come with big reward: Three healthy children - who keep me on the move all day long, sweatin’ with Dorothy the Dinosaur - and lots of hugs, kisses and words of encouragement when the workout is completed – “Mommy, you did it!”

And that concludes my deep thought for the day - which is perfect timing because I do believe I hear my three “personal trainers” beckoning me back for another round of “Monkey, Monkey” and “Crunchy, Munchy Honeycakes”!

So…here…I…go…!

Shoe Pile...Don't Bother Me

House Rule #9: No shoes in the house. At the bottom of our staircase lies a pile of shoes. Large shoes, small shoes, medium shoes, flip flops, sparkly shoes, crocs and sneakers.

Being the anal-retentive perfectionist that I am (confession is good for the soul), clutter is my enemy. Paper piles, clothes piles, piles of this and piles of that…piles of stuff in general unnerve and irritate me. So what to do about this little pile of shoes at the bottom of our staircase?

When it comes down to it, I am the one to blame for this unsightly collection. In my effort to keep the dirt out, I made a “house rule” that shoes are not to be worn indoors. It is my mantra as I am unloading the kids from the car, "Shoes off when you get in the house!"

The result...a pile of shoes.

I have one of two choices here: I can get frustrated about the shoe pile and whine and complain and make a big stink about it, OR I can take a step back and be grateful for it. (Grateful? Where am I going with this?) If there were no shoe pile then that could only mean my children, husband - and myself included - would not be following one of our house rules. That annoying shoe collection is evidence that we are team players, working together to keep our house clean. We are showing respect for each other and for our home when we take our shoes off at the door.

It is also a GREAT reminder of the feet that fill those shoes. Each pair represents someone who lives in this home and is a part of this family. There's a dad, a mom, a couple of sisters and a little boy. Five people...and countless pairs of shoes! You know...I think I can let this one go. I am much more concerned about the people that wear those shoes than I am with the pile they leave. Not everything has to be perfect (gasp!), and that shoe pile won't bother me anymore!

Blogging

I said there was no way I would ever succomb to the ever popular world of blogging. My husband has a saying that blogging is for people who think the world wants to hear what they think and say just as much as they like to share it. Then my husband went to a conference for work. He came home and asked me if I wanted to start a blog. I looked at him in disbelief, laughed at him and said "heck no!" However, he had been converted to the world of the blogger and quietly encouraged me to just think about it.

Honestly, if people don't listen to me when I am actually talking to them, what makes me think anyone will listen to me when I write? Seriously.

I thought about it. I do a lot of writing...mostly just for my own peace of mind. I'm not that good at it...yet. I have a dream to one day write a book, and I really don't share that with very many people either. I am in the process of growing, maturing, developing and discovering. It is hard to be vulnerable and allow - God knows who - to observe from "cyber" distance the many growing pains I am currently, and will in the future, experience.

However, I caved. I decided to give it a go. Take a dive into the World Wide Web of blogging and blabbing.

I don't know how well or often I will be able to sustain and keep it up. My hope is that, if anything, it will give me more purpose for writing and sharing my life, that will, I pray, touch and encourage someone else in the process.