Miscellaneous Ramblings of a Mother of Three: 06/01/2002

Thursday, June 27, 2002

I made it safely to NC.

Huge sigh of relief. Easy flight, quick trip to Traci's and now we have shopped, eaten and gotten drinks. Now we just have to wait for everyone else to get here tomorrow.

Wednesday, June 26, 2002

One of these days I will be prepared for something in advance for a change.

I am now off to find my fondue pot, a blender, and my digital camera. Oh, and the adapter for my videotapes. I did have the laundry done ahead of time--that is a first. Usually I am packing straight from the dryer as we head out the door. I am giddy with the thought of being carefree for 4 whole days. Then on Sunday and Monday, I am still semi-carefree because the kids won't be home. I see a huge nap in my future.

Now I am getting nervous. I have no idea what to wear on the plane. I hate schlepping through the airport looking like a scunge, but I don't want to be miserable either. I have no idea what clothes to take. I have crappy hair. I still haven't shaved my legs. The kids aren't asleep. I can't find a big enough suitcase for their crap. I know I am forgetting something. Hell.

I finally broke down and spent the $9 on Lipfinity lipstick.

I spent a good 15 minutes persuing the selection. I even did the unthinkable and tried 3 different colors on my hand. I looked athem in different lights. I held my hand at different angles, trying to make sure that I saw them in all situations possible at KMart. I am notorious for getting home with lipstick that is too shiny or too dark. I am not a flashy kind of person, so I try to be subtle. I finally made my choice.I was so excited to try it this morning. I put it on very carfeully after the adivce of those who had not. As I was applying it, I realized that I had definitely been subtle.

It is the same damn color as my own lips.

I spent $9. to get my own lip color with a little extra shine. I could have used lip balm for $1 and been just as well off. I do the same thing with hair color--I spend an hour picking it out and applying it, and my hair is the same damn color.

Now I am looking at the samples on my hand and I realize that I should have gone with the color that I thought was too dark. I am sure I will never remember the name of it and it will take me forever to use up the first color. Perhaps I can scrape up the $9 before school starts.

The D in Claritin D should stand for Don't take this.

I was up all frigging night. I knew better than to take it in the afternoon, but for some idiotic reason, I did it anyway. I forgot what it is like to be awake, but doped up and exhausted, at 3 a.m. And at 4.a, for that matter. Now I am dead, of course. I have ten thousand things to do. I already sucked down a 20 ounce Coke and I am sure more will follow. I may even resort to Code Red which tastes like cough syrup.

Tuesday, June 25, 2002

Statistics is going to f'ing kill me.

I did my homework right after class Friday and got it wrong. I know it was wrong because we were supposed to be predicting GPA and I got an answer of 6.54. Not exactly possible on a 4.0 scale. I redid it tonight and I think I fixed the problems. The GPA looks right, anyway. I am going to miss this week and then next week is the mid term. Lucky for me, he is not going to do any new material before the mid term. He will also review for the first hour, then we will take the test. I am still fucked royally. I just know it in my bones. I have to have a B in this class or take it over. I would sooner die. If I get a C, then I will just settle for the Plus 30 raise and be done. Nothing could ever make me take this class over agin. Nothing. NOTHING. NOTHING. The saddest part of the whole thing is I am the only one in my group that has the first clue what we are doing. I can figure out which formula to use, I just get the damn calculations wrong or do something out of order. I have some vague memory of "order of operation" in math--obviously I should have paid better attention. I cheated my way through all high school math classes, anyway. Now it is coming back to haunt me. If it wouldn't expose me and my family to tremendous humiliation, I would probably cheat on this mid term. It isn't worth that, though. I can only hope he will have mercy on us. And pray that everyone else does worse than me (is that too terrible of me?) so he will bump us all up.

On the opposite end of the spectrum, I took the easiet final of my doctoral career tonight. It was a joke. Two "essay" questions.He told us the questions last week. He wanted our answers to be on one page; however, he didn't tell us this until I was on page 3, so he will just have to wade through my bullshit. Serves him right. It was the biggest waste of time I have ever paid $600 to suffer through. If I do not get an A I will raise hell til TSU relents and just gives me the damn diploma. The instructor didn't even have the fricking book. He had us each "present" a chapter--graduate speak for have the students do all the work. He tried to pretend that he had read it, but it was blatantly obvious he had not. He took every discussion so far off topic even he was confused. He also missed 2 classes, yet told us that absences could affect our grade. I was late one day and had to leave early once. I missed nothing according to those that were there. I deserve an A for having to sit through his lovefest with his fave student and his school and himself. Puke.

I am looking forward to the new semester, although they are going to work my ass off. I only wish stats was over this week, too. What a load off that would be.

I can't seem to get on Blog track lately. My mind is still doing that racing thing--I am a scatterbrained nut. I get the bare minimum done at home and then sort of zone out. Gotta get it together when I get back next week. My summer is almost half over and I have little to nothing to show for it.

W. lucked up as usual. My mother, in some fit of dementia, offered to take all three boys to her house for the whole weekend, so he is home alone while I am out of town. Being the obstinate jackass that he is, he did try to act as if he might have something better to do than take them to meet her halfway, but soon saw the error of his ways. They are going Thursday unless something comes up. I will go get them Tuesday. Then she will come down around the 15th and get Five and Jay for an extended stay--til the 25th. Then down to our house for a belated birthday party for Five and then back home with Five and Sam for another week or so--or maybe Sam alone. Then possibly Jay again in August. She loves to have them up there when they can use her pool. I think she is crazy to take on all three, but I suppose it explains volumes about why I am so prone to taking on way more than I can handle.

Monday, June 24, 2002

Guess I ought to do some housework today, hand't I? I am leaving my dear hubby at home alone with 3 kids for 4 days. It would be the nice thing to do.

Yet another Monday. There really ought to be more time between them. I am not even working and I hate them. Sunday is just such a lovely nap day.

Five's programwent well. he was more into it than normal. He actually seemed to know the words to most of the songs. There were over 200 kids in the show. I cannot imagine howmuch work went into getting it all arranged. They do such an amazing job--it isn't just a bunch of kids stands on risers singing. There is always something going on either downstage, in the aisles, on the sides, etc. Five was part of a rap group--he was so proud of his backwards hat.

Jay woke up in a crotchety mood, so W. decided at the last minute to stay at Mike's with him (we had stopped to sropoff some stuff there). Sam threw a fit when I took him to the nursery, but the worker said he calmed down quickly. The church service is televised locally, so W. and Jay were able to see the show on tv, along with MIL and FIL, and Mike and Pam, so a nice extended audience.

Joy of joys, Jay gets to start the music program in the fall. They take 3 year olds!!! He will love it and will have a blast.

Sunday, June 23, 2002

I have slept all day. I am a slug of epic proportions. I got up at 9 and was back in bed by 12, ostensibly to put Sam down for a nap, but really so I could sleep. I slept until 2:30, got up, got Five ready for church and dropped him off and came back to put Jay down for a nap. At 4:15 or so, I realized I had to get up. Now we are getting ready to walk out the door to go see Five's program and then I am sure I will be up all damn night. I hate it when I do this. I feel positively wretched right now--as if I am on some sort of drug. And my mouth tastes disgusting. I am probably coming down with something--that would be my luck.

Sundays are becoming our all out lazy days. I slept in after a very rough night with Jay and I am about ready to go take another nap. This will of course screw up my sleep tonight, but I don't even care. I am not going to make the same mistake I did last night and NOT give the kids a nap. No way.

I am so stoked about my trip to North Carolina, I can't stand it.

Fifteen mommies on a 3 day break from reality. How cool is that? I am so lucky that W. doesn't seem to mind a bit that I go on these trips. This is the third one so far. Once to Chicago, once to York, PA, and now to Raleigh, NC. My extended family is beyond thinking that I am crazy for going to meet people that I "don't know". They now think it is very interesting. I am sure it gives them something to amuse their friends with...crazy Kim meeting up with those psychos from the internet. LOL. The idea that I don't know these girls is laughable. I suppose I know them as well as I have ever known anyone. A very, very tight group going on four years of friendship. Not bad.

W. will make me feel guilty about going, I am sure. He always does, but then they have a good time without me. I intend to have a blast. I am not able to really enjoy myself at social things here because there is always someone who needs to be taken care of or we have to be ready to leave for the sitter or I am too tired. This weekend, I will not have to wipe one rear end, I won't have to find a cup with a lid that fits, I won't have to wrestle a wet tot back into the shower, I won't have to remind anyone to put on deodorant, I won't have to drive a mini van and I can take a nap if I want to. I intend to spend hours watching movies, playing fun games and talking til I am hoarse. Oh, and drinking of course. I am not a drinker anymore. I was in college and before I got preggo with Jay, I was a weekend drinker. Since 1999, I have probably been over the limit 7 times--and one of those was the trip to Baltmore. I don't even like being drunk, but I do like drinking. Does that make sense?

I have been on a low carb diet again for several weeks.I built in cheat days, though, so I am not doing as well as usual. I lost 12 pounds quickly, but now I have hit a plateau. I had set a goal of 20 pounds by the trip to Traci's, but now I will settle for 15. I am so weak on Fridays. Stats class just stresses me out and I eat when I am stressed. After the trip, though, I am going to make myself give up the cheat day and get more focused. Food is becoming less and less appealing to me which is a good thing. I haven't had caffeine in quantity in ages. I will be all abuzz in NC since T. prefers the breakfast of champions--coffee or Code Red and Metabolife. LMAO. I would be in cardiac arrest these days. She used to smoke with it, but has blessedly stopped that. I don't do the coffee thing, either, but I am sure I will be sucking down Cokes like there is no tomorrow.

Have I mentioned that I am excited about this trip? This will cross several more names off of my Must Meet list. The whole thing will be obsolete in a couple of years at this rate. Funny, when I stumbled across the February 1999 Club on New Year's Eve of 98, I had no idea what was in store for me. That night I was just thrilled to find people who were gong through what I was. I had never even posted on a bulletin board before, I don't think. My, how things change.

Why am I up in the middle of the night? Because I have a 3 year old, that's why.

I am, yet again, a dumbass. I foolishly thought if Jay went to sleep at 5, he would sleep all night. He won't. He woke around 7 and wanted a snack, so he had a cookie and fell right back asleep. I slept right along beside him. Sam woke me up at 9. He was running about the house unsupervised. I snagged him and went to my bed where we slept until 11. Then Jay wet his pants and came crying for me. W. was still up, but he wouldn't do. Had to be mommy. I changed him and sent him in to see his dad. At some point in the next hour my brilliant husband decided it was okay to leave the 8 year old and the 3 year old on the couch watching cartoons while he went to bed. WTF? Jay woke me at 12:15 askig for a banana. It took me a few minutes to realize what was going on. I got him a banana and sent Five to bed under much protest. Jay and I are now on the couch watching History International. I am hoping to bore him to sleep. I let him watch his cartoons til 2, then switched over. I am just hoping he will fall asleep and at least stay that way until 6 or so. I really am not tired right now, so it isn't as horrible as it could have been.

One of my best friends from high school had her first child last week. A little girl--9 pounds. Hard to believe. We don't seem old enough to have children yet. Then I think about those that were pregnant when we graduated and realize that they have 15 year olds. Egads. I feel ancient with my almost 9 year old.

Saturday, June 22, 2002

I don't know whose bright idea it was to monkey with Reader's Digest, but I am not amused.

I do not like the new format one iota. I have read RD since I was child. One of best things about going to visit my grandparents was sitting down with those large print Reader's Digests for the blind (as we called them) and reading them from cover to cover. No ads in those, by the way--a HUGE improvement. I would devour the condensed book in the back. One that I remember most was about Ted Bundy and the investigation that lead to his capture. I cannot count how many times I read that story.

The new RD sucks.I don't like the title page inside, I don't like the cheesy pictures on the back, I don't like the chages in the old standards, I don't like the books about celebrities, I don't like the snippets from other magazines in the mini digest part, and I really hate the Q and A interviews. I don't like it at all. What used to take me at least an hour or two to thouroughly read, not take 30 minutes. I can't just sit down and read it from cover to cover as I used to. It was one of those mindless delights that I enjoyed. I do not like to read most magazines. Vanity Fair, Time and People are about it. RD gave me a chance to see what was in other magazines without having to bother to read them. If it weren't for my husband's affection for it, Idoubt I would even renew.

An interesting sidenote.I was once published in RD. You know that sounds much better than it really is. I should leave it there and attempt to be quasi-literary, but I will out myself. It was in Life in These United States, I think. One of those columns where you send in something and they pay you $400. Well, they used to. I noticed that now they only pay $300. Anyway, I sent in something and about 3 months later, I was lying in bed with W. watching TV when the phone rang. It was So-and-So from RD. I thought it was some telemarketer, so I said we already subscribed. She stopped me and and if I had sent in something for the magazine. After I said yes, she said it was going to be published in the November edition and they would be sending me a check for $400. All she had to do was read it to me and make sure that it was what I had submitted. It was. Then she needed to talk to someone who could verify that it had actually happened. W. was there, so he did. (Wouldn't you think that people would lie? I guess most people wouldn't think they would call and check, though). That was it. She thanked me. In November, sure enough. There it was. The first entry in the section with my name and town and state.

Do you have any idea how many people pay attention to that? We lost count. I guess when it is a familiar name or town, it catches the eye. Who knows. A really nice lady in Nashville sent me her copy with a sweet letter explaining that she had grown up in our town and was happy to see someone from there in that magazine.I was also surprised at how many people said they had sent stuff in for years and never gotten in. It was very odd.

Sadly, I am afraid that was my 15 minutes of fame. I don't even know what I spent the money on. Probably a bill or something boring.

The scream was piercing.

One of those primal, gut wrenching screams that you hear in movies and wonder how on earth they can do that over and over. It made my blood run cold. I snapped my head around to see what could possible be causing my not yet two year old such pain.

From the sound of the scream, I expected there to be blood at the very least. Maybe glass shards or giant, jagged splinters of wood. There was no thud, so I knew it wasn't a fall, plus that scream wasn't a fall scream. It was a scream I had never heard before.

I jumped up and ran to the next room, fearing what I would find. Sam was there. There was no carnage. There was no blood. There was no injury. Sweet Sam stood in the middle of the dining room pointing into the kitchen. It had to be Jay. The kitchen is filled with potential hazards. Knives, glass, matches, salt, water, eggs. Jay is a magnet for all things painful or messy. I swung around to see what could have happened. And there he stood.

He was a mess already. His mouth was covered and his hands were sticky. Sam was hopping up and down like a troll, waving and screeching to beat the band. Jay had this horribly guilty look on his face and he tried to hide is hands behind his back.

"Miiiiiiiiiiiiinnnnnnnnnnnneeeeeeeeee," bellowed Sam, "miiiiiiiiiiiiiiiiiiiinnnnnnne."

There was no bodily harm. There was no near catastrophe. Jay was visibly frightened, but not because of any pain or injury. Sam was near hysterical, but not because of some imepending doom. Slowly Jay put his hands in front of him and weakly grinned as he revealed the source of the strife.

A chocolate covered doughnut.

One of those little doughnut gems that I had fgotten at the day old bakery for 29 cents a pack. This wasn't just any doughnut, though. It was Sam's doughnut. He had stolen Sam't chocolate doughnut. That was what had triggered the scream that easily took 3 years off of my life. A doughnut.

Oh, to be a child again and have my biggest concern be the theft of a waxy, psuedo-chocolate doughnut.

Thursday, June 20, 2002

If you were so inclined, you could eat off of my shower floor.

Hands and knees, scrub brush and Bar Keeper's Friend (best stuff ever made) and 10 minutes of hard work, but by golly, it looks like new. I didn't realize how grimy it was until I started washing it. Those little feet sure do make a mess.

I found my bedroom floor today. The carpet is much dirtier than I remember. I am renting a steam cleaner this weekend. Turns out, the top of my dresser is oak, not Lego and t-shirt as it has appeared for a good 6 weeks. I must dust tomorrow no matter what. W. mopped the kitchen floor today.It looks very nice.

I almost forgot. Yet another body fluid incident. What do I do to deserve this?

Jay puked in my living room. On the carpet. He was standing on the hard wood. He leaned over to hit the rug. He nailed the rug. He had sausage links for breakfast. With orange juice. He had American cheese (yellow, as it should be) for a snack.Topped it all off with a Capri Sun. The Capri Sun was too much. Vomit everywhere. He gagged. Thought I was going to have to Heimlich him. W. brought me towels. Jay threw up on them before I got the first thing wiped up. More towels. Floor clean. Hideous lingering odor.

Sadly, a typical day in my house. I am going to bed.

What is it about men and cars?

W. has been drooling over an old Corvette that a friend of his has. May I remind you that he has no job? WTF he thinks we can buy a Corvette is beyond me. I know he isn't serious, but I am half afraid if I gave him the word, he would scrape it up somehow. Meanwhile, our kitchen cabinets were built in 1950-something and are in dire need of replacing. Our counter tops are even worse. Nothing I can say will inspire him to cough up the $$ for new ones. Grrrrr. I might even be inspired to cook if things didn't fall out on my head every time I opened a cabinet and I didn't have to get on my hands and knees to forage for pots and pans.

Tuesday, June 18, 2002

I am addicted to Law and Order.

I admit it. I love this show. I am so psyched that it is on back to back on TNT after A & E for 3 hours straight --as if I had the time. I am even watching one I haven't seen before, which makes it even better. I miss Chris Noth. He was my favorite. I do not like the blonde chick they have on now. She just doesn't click with me. Hopefully she can be written off quickly.

I had a topic and something I really wanted to think about out loud, but now I have no idea what it was. I hate it when I do that.Hate it. Grrrrrr. Now I will have to come back in a bit.

Sunday, June 16, 2002

Happy Father's Day!

We have had a really laid back and quiet days. Sam woke up at the should-be-illegal-on-a-Sunday-or-summer-day hour of 5:00. Grrrrr. Because it is W.s' holiday, I did him the favor of dragging Sam to the sunroom and entertaining him and Jay, who was up by 5:45, all morning. We made breakfast for W. at 8. Eggs, toast and sausage. Jay wanted to put everything under the sun in the eggs--including green olives and dill pickles.We settled for ham and pepper jack cheese. W. was adequately grateful for the breakfast--I haven't told him how much he owes me for the lack of olives and pickles, yet. Five just made him a big bowl of ice cream with Redi Whip and he is having to share with Sam the scavenger. Sam approaches anyone with food in a dead run with his mouth wide open. Too funny.

Hard to believe that we have been parents for almost 9 years. I am amazed daily that my baby is a child. Nine years old. It seemed so old when I was 9. I can't helpd but think that my time with him full-time is half over. He is so much more a Daddy's boy now. I get them when they are little and cute. Then I turn them over to their dad. W. took Five to replace some window panes the other day. Five loves to learn how to do stuff like that and W. is so patient teaching him. He still teaches me stuff, too. I am going to grasp the concept of a gasoline engine eventually. I swear I am--if it kills us both. He tried to explain the difference between deisel and gasoling engines yesterday and I finally had to surrender. I did understand T scores in stats, so I don't feel like a total moron.

Saturday, June 15, 2002

When you have food in the freezer older than your youngest child, it is time to clean it out.

I found some incredibly funky looking meat prodcuts today as I tried to cram the stuff I bought today in there. Some of the things I removed:three ears of corn that were fresh in the spring of 2001, an oddly brown pot roast, what I am assuming by the shape are chicken drumsticks that I wrapped in foil (the skin is showing through in places), a truly disgusting looking peeled banana that I cannot imagine why I froze, a paint brush, some slushy thing in a baggy that leaked, grey looking ground beef and some chicken and rice casserole that I labled and dated in August of 2000 (Sam was born in September). I tied all of it up in a bag and stuck it back in the freezer to throw away on garbage day. I am sure it will take me weeks to remember to get rid of it. My next task is the refrigerator. Something leaked and it must be addressed...soon.

I cannot get a link to work to save my life. Criminals from the Neck Up is a cool short story website that dear SherpaDave and company created and I have the coolest logo by IceCat that is supposed to link to it, but I can't get it to work to save my damn life. I suppose that will be my technological terror today. Until it works, the link is Criminals I at least fixed that muchWTF wouldn't that work this morning??? (Thank you, Erika). They were Yahoo's site of the day back in March. Good stuff. I have nothing posted there because that would require actual thought and work and invite critiquing which is just plain scary. I also can't think of a thing worthwhile to say--no surprise there.

I know why AOL has issued enought of those damn free CDs to cover Rhode Island in three layers now. They suck.

For some reason my AOL just died two days ago. Some error. I uninstalled and reinstalled. It lasted until I logged on the second time. I had to repeat the process every time I logged on. I ended up uninstalling and reinstalling the damn software five times. I think it is finally working again. Add that to the fact that I still haven't figured out why they don't have or I can't find a history file with more than 20 entries in it and I am sick of it. If it wasn't free, dammit, I'd be using something else. Which reminds me, I have to change AOL accounts because the free time on this one has run out, I am sure. Mike gave me 20 frigging AOL CDs. 20,000 hours of AOL. Goody.

Wednesday, June 12, 2002

I am just too stressed and tired to think of naything worth really writing thes days. I cannot seem to get ahead. Classes are easy, but still overwhelming. MIL is sick and that is unusual. I am forever sticking my foot in my mouth lately or forgetting to tell people important things. Bottom line-I am just a frazzled mess. How people with more than 3 kids manage and stay sane is beyond me.

I decided today that I am tired of being nice. W. and I had a tiff and I realized that no matter what, I try to play the peacekeeper and watch what I say. I do that everywhere. I think that is why I am so unsure of myself--it is so much easier to just back down that to stand up. I was looking at my old high school yearbooks yesterday and it was a bit depreseeing to see I was the same bitchy, passive person then. I had deluded myself into thinking it was due to PPD, old age, personality changes, etc. LOL. Turns out, I am the same person I was in the mid 80s. How scary is that? I am a bit afraid I am one of those people that peaked in high school.

Tuesday, June 11, 2002

UGH! I hate housework. I want a maid and I want one now. I need a full time employee dedicated to sorting out clothes. If it weren't for the out of season and too small/too big clothes, we really wouldn't have that much of a mess. I need to get a list together of what needs to be done and just get started. Easier said than done.

Today is the big job interview for my hubby. He is getting ready now. I know he is nervous as hell. I would be, too. It has taken nearly a year for him to even find something worth applying for and I am so hoping that he will get it. His confidence really needs it right now.

When he leaves, we are going to do a big housecleaning. A 10-second tidy on steroids. I figured that it would make him feel better to come home to a semi-straight house, anyway. Plus, it will take my mind off worrying about the whole thing. I will want to call him every 5 minutes from about 11 on to see how it went. Hopefully, they will like him so much he will get an offer to day. Not likely, but I can dream. Today is going to be the longest day ever.

Monday, June 10, 2002

My stats were right. At least I am 99.9 percent sure they are. I ran the friggin numbers 3 times. Then I found a web site that does basic statistical computation for you. (Insert whooping and screaming and hopping up and down here) I plugged in my 40 numbers and it gave me the median (I was right--she was not), the mode (right again-how did she miss that one?) and the mean (never in question) I was also right on the standard deviation--down to the decimal points. Hot damn. I have to admit I got very defensive when she told me my answers were wrong. She said her hubby had made up a spreadsheet and he knew how to do these things and it matched up with her asnwers, so mine must be wrong. I am such a bitch. I reveled in sending her an email explaining how I found my answers and what the web site was if she wanted to check it. I assume she just entered a number or two incorrectly--but her answer was pretty far off from mine, so who knows. I do know I will feel like queen of the dumbasses if I find out I was wrong, but it wouldn't be the first time. Tonight, I gloat. Tomorrow, I draw a damn histogram that I forgot about.

My kids had chocolate cake for dinner. I am the best mother in the world--just ask them. They'll sing that Bill Cosby chant, "Mom is great--give us the chocolate cake!"

When I told Jay it was W.'s birthday today, the first thing he said was, "You get a cake?" So he and I went out and bought a cake this afternoon. Neither W. or I need cake, so I let them eat extra. Sam isn't happy that I am now offering ham and maccaroni. He is downright pissed, actually.

Christel says Goofy is a dog. Well, why does he walk on two legs and wear clothes, but Pluto doesn't? I want my cartoons to make sense.....I say that as Scooby Doo is eating and saying his meal is "Re--ricious." Speaking of Scooby--they just explained Wicca on this epsiode. WTF? When did Scooby get spiritual? I thought it was a very interesting and very good explanation, but whoa, baby. This is Scooby, jinkies....what will they do next? Sex ed with Fred and Daphne?I don't like these new voices, either. Casey Kasem is the one true Shaggy. There is no substitute.

Went suit shopping today with W. for his job interview. It is his birthday today, so I had a sitter and we went alone. I planned to take him to a nice lunch and gave him a choice--Chili's, Logan's, Outback, Red Lobster, Copeland's, Merchant's, Five and Diner, Macaroni Grill, Joe's Crab Shack, and many other choices....what did he pick? Taco Bell. **sigh** It's cheap, he said. So there we went and spent less than half of what we would anywhere else and took half the time. We got lucky shopping. Great salesman, third jacket he tried on looked good and they could have the whole thing altered by 8:30 tonight. Hot damn. The interview is at 10:30 tomorrow morning--nothing like waiting until the last minute. W. was in a good mood--he even bought a shirt without looking at the price tag ($40.00--he would die) and a new tie. He did turn down the new shoes, though. He has tons of dress sheos. MIL loves to buy them for him.

The kids are hyped up today like crazy. Sam has bitten Jay twice already. Sam went down for a nap with no fuss when we got home--I just put him in bed with his Barney farm book and he was fine. Jay and Five are playing and staying relatively quiet. I am sort of decompressing. I have been on an eating binge today and I really need to figure out my stats homework. I have different answers than another girl and I have to make sure mine isn't wrong. Ugh. Tomorrow is the interview--things will be a lot easier once it is behind him.

Sunday, June 09, 2002

Well, I am a dumbass, I left the diaper bag at the park and some relative found it. Sheesh.

Will someone explan the following to me:

1. Where does the other sandal go? Either Jay or Sam has been missing a sandal for three weeks now. It never fails. I am ready to tie them together. Even though we have a place to put shoes now, one still just walks away. Grrrr.

2. Where do sippy cups go? Are they really set to slowly disintegrate so you have to buy new ones every 6 months? We had enough to supply an army. Now the only kid "cups" in the drawer are a yogurt container and a baby bottle sans nipple. There are various lids and stoppers in the drawer, but none fit anything we have used in oh, 2 years. How is this? Where the hell are all the cups?

3. How are chocolate covered graham crackers sooooo much better than plain ones? I am in carbo overload right now and I don't even care.

4. Is there a special force that draws the toilet paper roll to the toilet bowl? We have had 5 freaking roll of TP dunked in 2 weeks. That is more than the past 9 years. I am beginning to think it is the curse of the Charmin. We switiched from Cottonelle to Charmin becuase it was on sale at Sam's and we have had nothing but trouble ever since. Serves me right for buying the product of a company that used a wild bear shitting inthe woods as part of their ad campaign.

5. In the same vein, whoever invented the idea for low flush toilets should be drowned in one. I am so f'ing tired of plunging toilets with 4 squares of toilet paper in them I could spit. I am going to Canada in the fall and I would love to figure out a way to smuggle a new one home. This is ridiculous. We waste twice as much water because it takes 3 flushes to get the damn thing to work. We had to go out and buy a new plunger, so we helped kill another tree or rubber plant or something in the process. Meanwhile, those gigantic drive through carwashes keep popping up everywhere. If those aren't water wasters, then my old toilets were just fine, thank you.

6. What nationality are the Tubbies? I know the show originated in England, but what language are they speaking? I heard once that Po speaks some Chinese dialect, but hmmmm. Sam loves the damn show and couldn't care less if they were Martians. I am puzzled. Ranks right up there with "What is Goofy?"

It wasn't bad at all. Now I feel like a horrible cynical bitch for complaining, but past history did indicate it would suck royally.

We were late--no shock there. W. went to church alone and we had to wait for him to get back. I ahd everyone ready, but he wanted to count rent money and get a deposit ready. By the time we picked up pizza and got there, most everyone was already eating and some of the stuff was already gone, but we didn't have to wait in line and the crowd had setteld down, so the kids weren't too wild. They enjoyed themselves, although the two little ones didn't eat much at all.

After lunch, we took them to the playground. Sam didn't have his shoes on, so he ran around yelling "hot, hot, hot". It didn't take him too long to figure out that he needed to stay in the shade. W. and I were more than happy to keep him company because it was hot, hot, hot in the play area. Jay and Five had a ball and we talked to some people that W. knew from school and had a nice time. By the time we left, Sam was tired and cranky, Jay was a sweaty mess and Five had a splinter in his hand. No one had to go potty or had to have a diaper change, though, so I am not complaining.

Now we sit awaiting the magic hour of 5:00 when I think I can safely put Sam to bed for the night and have him sleep until the morning. He took a nap this monring, but it wasn't long enough and he is in a vile mood. He has eaten pizza and graham crackers, so he should be full. He keeps saying night-night, so I know he is tired. He won't let me pick him up, though. He is fighting sleep. Jay is watching the Big Freeze a.k.a. The Big Wheeze for the the second time in a row. I am hoping he will knock off about 6 and be gone for the night, too. He had no nap, but he is getting to that stage where he doesn't have to have on every day.

All in all, for us lately, a successful day. Tomorrow is W.'s birthday. I hope it goes smoothly as well.

I am trying to figure out who family reunions are fun for. It ain't me.

This afternoon I get to drag 3 kids to the park for a lovely lunch in a picnic shelter. In June. At noon. Hmmm. Perhaps if we had the affair on the sun itself, it might be hotter somewhere than Tennessee in June, but who I am to complain? So off we will go. The bathroom facilities are those of the park. Joy. Nothing like taking a 3 yer old to the bathroom in a sweltering port a john. Mine are the only small children that will be there today, so I get to entertain them while my dear husband visits with people that he sees once a year at most. We have been married almost 10 years and I still don't know who is who outside of the immediate family.

Don't get me wrong, I love visiting with family. I grew up in a huge family. My mother was the youngest of 11 children. I have 33 cousins on that side alone. My dad's damily was always getting together--still does. My complaint is the timing, I suppose. Why can't these thing be held in the fall when it is pleasant? It's all on the weekend, so school isn't a factor. Why do we have to suffer in June. For the record, the same to-do used to be held in August...I should count my blessings because August in absolutely hell on earth.

I am at least spared cooking. W. decided we would just take pizza so the kids would have something to eat. Of course pizza outside in June is just nauseating to me, but I'm not 8, so what do I know?

So, now to find the sunscreen, the bug spray, the sunglasses and appropriate clothing for all. No mean feat in this wreck, I assure you. When is my vacation supposed to start??

Friday, June 07, 2002

YIKES! I thought summer was suuposed to be the time I got to rest. I am more tired than ever. Could be because I am staying up until midnight doing absolutely nothing.

Why won't my kids sleep? Why is it that on the days they would sleep late, I have to get up early myself? Today was the second installment of statistics. **shudder**. Standard deviation. **shudder again**. It isn't hard, just so tedious. Incredibly tedious. Had I gotten enough sleep last night, it wouldn't have been nearly so bad, but no, my 3 year old was up until 10:30 last night. I didn't go to bed until midnight myself. Sam has also decided to stay up until 8 every night. I am not amused. He is supposed to go to bed early so I can have my evenings a little bit less crazy since he gets up at the crack of dawn.

I have so manny things to blog about--I just have to find the time to put them down. Hmmmmm. and I need another topic, too.

Thursday, June 06, 2002

I can't be silly today. I am so distressed about the kidnapping of Elizabeth Smart that it overshadows everything else. Her poor family and especially her sister. I cannot imagine how anyone survives such an awful experience. I had just read about the girls in Washington State again yesterday, the John Walsh was on Biography last night and now this. Why are some people so incredibly sick and twisted? It makes me want to keep my kids at my side every minute. I would never recover if one of them were taken.

There is a special place in Hell for these monsters. Although I am unsure of my own religious beliefs lately, of that I am sure. I pray that their souls are tortured for all of eternity. I am incapable of forgiveness on this matter.

Tuesday, June 04, 2002

So, what is the fascination with peeing on the floor? All of my kids seem to go through phases where that is just the most fun thing ever. Sam is there right now. He can go hours with a dry diaper, but pull it off, give him 5 minutes of play and you can bet there will be a puddle in the floor.

This leads me to another public restroom tie in--why do people pee in the floor in a PR? How twisted and sick do you have to be not to care whether or not you actually peed in the correct area? Is there anything more disgusting than walking into a stall and hearing a splash? Invariably, the jackass also left paper which sticks to your shoe, so you have to come dangerously close to touching whatever it is in the floor. I realize I am lacking in many maternal skills, but surely to God, even the most inept parent can teach their children to pee in the potty. Perhaps there is some truth in the statement that some people are just too stupid to breed.

Monday, June 03, 2002

Hello, I am Kim, a bad mother. My two youngest children are at daycare today and the rest of the week.I feel guilty, but I have so much to do around the house, I feel like I can just get it done this week and then enjoy my summer with them instead of having it hanging all over my head all summer. So, I did some cleaning, but what else did I do? I went swimming. 2.5 hours in the water without a toddler. It was heavenly, I have to admit. I even had 45 minutes by myself--laid on a float for 30 minutes and 15 more spent finishing up my daily laps. I feel so much better right now. Came home, did lunch and have had a little time on line. Now Five and I will do some work downstaris in the playroom for an hour or so, go get the boys and have a great evening.

I don't expect everyone to understand why I do this--but it works for us. My kids have the most amazing caregiver. She is incredible. Plus, they spend time with their friends and play which would be much more fun than sitting around with me all day, really. This is their last week there for the summer. They may go part time if W. gets a job. They honestly enjoy it there, so I don't allow myself to feel huilty about it. Bad mommy? Maybe. But my kids are the three happiest little boys you will ever meet who know that their parents adore them as well as Baboo, Cynthia, Miss Connie, and Becky. They are incredibly lucky in that respect.

Tomorrow is the big paint day--the downstairs will be revamped and they will have their own little world to rule with glee. And I will be able to walk through my bedroom without stepping G I Joe, three planes, a car and some Legos. At least I hope so.

Sunday, June 02, 2002

Well, in keeping with the potty topic, I cleaned two bathroms today, one of which is primarily used by two boys. Let me say right now, of you are male and potty trained, please go hug your mother and let her know how much you love her. It is days like this that make me want to keep the baby in diapers til he is 5. Why is aiming so difficult? And then there is the splatter field. I am about to go on bathroom cleaning revolt (which wouldn't be a stretch here lately).

This leads me to public mens' rooms. Are they really as bad as I now imagine them to be> To be honest I never really considered mens' rooms before. All I really have to go on is W.'s assurances that the kids should go to the bathroom with me all the time in public--he says they are too nasty for little boys; I figured he was just trying to avoid having to take them. After cleaning all the places I had to clean today and conisdering public restrooms, it dawned on me--no one who is getting paid $5.50 an hour or so is going to go to the trouble I did. Makes me want to put the kids' in gloves and scuba wear before then enter one. Ick.

Saturday, June 01, 2002

The End of an Era

I realized yesterday as I cleaned out the kids' clothes drawers that I am about to have to actually get rid of baby stuff. Things that have been a part of who we are for the past 8 years. Not even stuff with specific memories, just things that have been a constant. There is a pair of fish print shorts that Five got from my sister. A 12 months striped onesie from Baby Gap that I loved the moment I saw it. The little church outfits.

I knew this day was coming. You can hardly walk through our house due to the clothes. Everyone still buys clothes for Sam, so we are just about buried alive.

I boxed up some stuff and just put it away after winter, knowing that Sam would not be able to wear it anymore, but I didn't really face the fact that we have officially passed babyhood. Sam will be 2 in just a few months. How fast it all goes. I am a bit taken aback by how much has happened in our lives since 1999 when Jay was born. It really seems like two different lives--pre-babies and post-babies. I guess maybe this means I am coming out of the fog that has nearly smothered me since Jay was tiny. I am able to recognize things about myself that had been very blurry for so long. I know that makes no sense, but I have a picture in my mind of what or who I used to be and what and who I am now. Somehow we have to meld them together.

Baby clothes.There is nothing like them...I am going to go through and select a few things to have quilts made with. Then I can look back at this time and remember, but also be able to put a little chapter behind me.

My dear friend Traci has given me a lovely topic for consideration. I was about to consider something banal such as freezer pops or teen fashion. Thankfully, she led me the right way.

Public Restrooms

Today, we will consider what I think of as bathroom etiquette. I don't think Emily Post ever addressed this because quite frankly, it should be common knowledge. Finger bowls and thank you notes can be confusing...using a public bathroom properly should not be. Like everything in our degenerating society, though, proper use of a public potty is becoming but a memory.

These are in no order of importance--just sort of chronologically arranged.

Rule 1 When using a public restroom (to be referred to as PR from here on out), do not cut line. How rude is that? How can you really think no one will notice you in a 12 by 12 room of women who are dying to pee. If you have an emergency, well, tell us. We will understand, but don't just jump into the first available stall on a whim. There is a sense of herarchy in a PR. Observe it with respect.

Rule 2 Knock before entering. Don't just barrel into what you assume is an empty stall or we'll both be embarrassed. Trust me on this one. A gentle tap or a tentative push is all it takes--especially if you enter what you think is an empty PR.

Rule 3 Share with one another. The is nothing worse than sitting there and realizing that you are out of paper. Hasn't everyone had this happen? There is just no pleasant way out of this one--sort of the great equalizer of women. I don't care if you are Julia Roberts, if you have to walk back out with pee in your drawers (or worse), you are not going to feel (or smell) your best in any social setting. It is therefore not only polite, but expected of you to share the paper when asked--even if it means throwing down a stall or two. If you are truly kind, you'll take to the unfortuante soul when you are through and hand it under the door so as to avoid paper/floor contact.

Rule 4 There is no dignified way to say this (guess that is why Emily avoided it), but it must be said. Please refrain from verbalizing about the elimination process. It is embarrassing and distressing for those around you to hear the assorted grunts, sighs, or expletives as you go. Toddlers up to age 3 are allowed a pass on this, after that, it is just gauche. The stalls are in no way soundproof--even those tile room places at McDonalds. every sound echos, so practice silence at home. Keep an air of mystery--no one else cares how hard you are working. And as a side note, there is no need to explain or call further attention to any noise that you can't control. We are all there for the same reason.

Rule 5 Keep the sight lines in mind. Yes, I know on TV they always show those horrible shots of legs and drawers under the door as PR shots, but we really don't need it. Note the length of the door and lower any clothing according to that level. Again, think mystery--we don't need to know what you're wearing under the clothes.

Rule 6 When you are done, imagine you are at home. Do you leave personal hygeine items lying about unwrapped, or do you dipsose of them properly? Do you leave TP all over the floor, or do you put it where it goes? Do you leave body fluids on the seat or do you have the decency to wipe it up? Do you flush or leave surprises for the erst of your family? (if you don't then you obviously don't have toddlers). I think we can all agree (especially Traci) that there is nothing worse than being in a hurry to pee and entering a PR stall only to find that someone didn't bother to check the john before they left. Use your brain--even if you flush, take that extra minute and check to make sure the flush was successful and complete. It isn't going to take that much time and people will thank you later.

Rule 7 Wash vigorously, but neatly. Is there really any need to soak the entire countertop? If you get soap and it drips all over the counter, take the time to wipe it up. I do not want to put my purse or my kid down in a puddle of that stinky liquid soap. If you have children with you, please remind them that they are not in a water park. If they can't reach, hold them up. Let them practice at home when you have to mop. Use the appropriate number of towels and put them in the trash--not just in the general area. If your hands are wet, use a shirt tail or something to open the door. I don't want to wonder what I grabbed when I follow you out.

Rule 8 This is for parents or others who take small children in to restrooms. If you can't control the kid in there, leave them outside. It is in in no way amusing to see someone else's kid's face peering under the door or through the crack in the door. Going to the bathroom requires a bit of concentration for some and hearing a tot slam all the doors and scream in the echo chamber is very distracting. Those hand blowers are not toys, either. Neither are the towel dispensers. We won't even discuss diaper changes here---that will come another day.

Please let me know if I have left out anyting important. That's what that comment link is for :-).

Miscellaneous Ramblings of a Mother of Three