What is the deal with Valentines Day? I mean, really. We hate it when we're single, and we almost hate it more when we're attached. There's just so much pressure to perform. Okay okay, I wasn't exactly thinking of sex, although I guess there's that too! More specifically, the pressure to come up with the perfect gift, the most romantic moment, the gushiest card, you get the picture. I tend to be more of a practical person than a romantic, and so how can I complain when my husband knows me well enough to make sure my gifts reflect that sometimes? Case in point. My thoughtful husband presented me with a lovely gift yesterday, a snazzy little make up bag that was full of expensive hair care products. I thought it was really nice, especially since I do struggle with my hair, and was impressed that he had thought of such a gift that was all about pampering myself. I was looking forward to trying out my new shampoos etc today, and once the kids were all at school and I had some just for me shower time set aside, I opened the cute little bag and started to examine the hair products. Hmmmm. Yes, they were expensive, and yes, they were a designer brand, but it also turns out they are designed specifically for aging, dull, lifeless hair. I might have been offended except that I realized I couldn't make out what the labels said without putting on my reading glasses....
So in the end, as I sit here with glowing bouncy hair I have to admit his gift was a winner, and remember that a ton of single women out there would give their left boob for such attention. As for me, I presented him with a sushi cook book and a request for dinner, thus transforming my gift to him into a gift for myself.Actually now that I think about it, I suppose my little shampoo kit was kind of the same thing for him too....
Tuesday, February 15, 2011
Monday, February 14, 2011
the shoe fairy
Sometimes I really do think I am on the verge of completely losing my mind. Perhaps it's just sleep deprivation. Last night I was woken first by my daughter Emily standing over me exclaiming "MOM!" and I struggled up from sleep saying "WHAT?" and Em said "I LOST MY TOOTH!" At moments like this it is critical to somehow find a way to stay rational, or become rational when you are still more than half asleep and your heart is pounding, so that you respond in an appropriate mommy-ish manner. So instead of batting her away and mumbling something like oh my god, you almost gave me a heart attack, please go back to bed and leave me alone, I managed to sit up, take some deep breaths and say oh honey, that's great, where IS your tooth? and stumble off into the darkness with her to stow said tooth away safely for the tooth fairy, and dab up the blood that is still oozing from her little mouth, and stagger back to bed again. I even managed to think clearly enough to convince her to wrap up the tooth and leave it upstairs with me, rather than let her take it back down to stuff into her tooth pillow that she keeps for these occasions. I eventually coaxed myself back to sleep, only to be woken by the telephone ringing around 4am, oh dear god, you know that's not a good thing. As I leap up and stumble off through the dark house in search of a phone, in the midst of my second heart attack of the night, my only conscious thought is oh my god, either someone just died or it's one of those dreadful wrong number long distance phone calls from India that we get periodically and I am going to have to spend 20 minutes trying to explain to someone that the person they are looking for really doesn't live in my house, so they don't call back again the next night. Anyway, I find a phone, say "HELLO???" and hold my breath. It's my father in law OH SHIT, who's dead, who is it??? and after he asks to speak to Mike I ask WHAT'S UP as casually as I can and he replies that they have a work emergency at a building he needs to ask about, and I am already starting to shut down again as I hand the phone over.
Anyway. Somehow I manage to get some more sleep, and wake up in time to realize that my husband is already up and gone, it's time to get the kids moving, it's Valentine's Day, AND I still have to remember a certain tooth fairy task. I head downstairs and remember, oh my god, did I put a Valentine in each of the kid's Valentine bags that my daughter Kate had cleverly thought to make, hoping to ensure some kind of loot for them on Valentine's morning?? My god, I did. I had gone to bed and then suddenly recalled those bags sitting by the fireplace (I guess we hang Xmas stockings by the fireplace, so Kate must have figured it was a safe bet to put her V Day bags near it too) and I had gone downstairs in the dark and cut out 3 pink hearts and written them each a message and stuffed it in their bags with...what? "Wagonwheels??" "We got Wagonwheels for Valentine's Day??" came the puzzled comments from the living room. Okay, give me a break, it was late, I was tired, and it was the only form of chocolate I could find at that hour.
So the girls mentioned that Em had lost her tooth, and I said, oh yeah, I completely forgot, why don't you run upstairs and get it from my room and put it away safe for the tooth fairy to find tonight? And off she went, and moments later she returned shrieking that her tooth was already gone and there was money in the little wad of toilet paper instead. She didn't even seem to notice that the tooth fairy had left an odd assortment of spare change rather than the usual tidy one dollar coin. :)
Feeling pretty with it we got through the rest of the morning routine fairly unscathed, and then it all fell apart. Em couldn't find one of her shoes. This is a many times a day event in our house - nobody but me ever puts their shoes away when they take them off, which would just be messy except that every time someone comes into the house our dog gets all excited and grabs the nearest shoe and runs off with it...So I lost my temper, yelled at the dog who of course had no idea what he'd done, yelled at my messy house, yelled at the girls to just get in the car, yelled at my husband for not putting the car seats back properly yesterday after he hauled a bunch of empties to the bottle depot, yelled at the god damn shoe fairy for taking a shoe as well as a tooth and sent Em off to school in her rain boots. At least they matched.
On a side note, after I got home, took some more deep breaths, had some coffee, I discovered the missing shoe stuffed half under the corner of the fridge, and in an attempt to redeem myself as a good mother I drove the pair of shoes to the school and deposited them in Emily's cubby outside her classroom. And people wonder what I do with my time....
Anyway. Somehow I manage to get some more sleep, and wake up in time to realize that my husband is already up and gone, it's time to get the kids moving, it's Valentine's Day, AND I still have to remember a certain tooth fairy task. I head downstairs and remember, oh my god, did I put a Valentine in each of the kid's Valentine bags that my daughter Kate had cleverly thought to make, hoping to ensure some kind of loot for them on Valentine's morning?? My god, I did. I had gone to bed and then suddenly recalled those bags sitting by the fireplace (I guess we hang Xmas stockings by the fireplace, so Kate must have figured it was a safe bet to put her V Day bags near it too) and I had gone downstairs in the dark and cut out 3 pink hearts and written them each a message and stuffed it in their bags with...what? "Wagonwheels??" "We got Wagonwheels for Valentine's Day??" came the puzzled comments from the living room. Okay, give me a break, it was late, I was tired, and it was the only form of chocolate I could find at that hour.
So the girls mentioned that Em had lost her tooth, and I said, oh yeah, I completely forgot, why don't you run upstairs and get it from my room and put it away safe for the tooth fairy to find tonight? And off she went, and moments later she returned shrieking that her tooth was already gone and there was money in the little wad of toilet paper instead. She didn't even seem to notice that the tooth fairy had left an odd assortment of spare change rather than the usual tidy one dollar coin. :)
Feeling pretty with it we got through the rest of the morning routine fairly unscathed, and then it all fell apart. Em couldn't find one of her shoes. This is a many times a day event in our house - nobody but me ever puts their shoes away when they take them off, which would just be messy except that every time someone comes into the house our dog gets all excited and grabs the nearest shoe and runs off with it...So I lost my temper, yelled at the dog who of course had no idea what he'd done, yelled at my messy house, yelled at the girls to just get in the car, yelled at my husband for not putting the car seats back properly yesterday after he hauled a bunch of empties to the bottle depot, yelled at the god damn shoe fairy for taking a shoe as well as a tooth and sent Em off to school in her rain boots. At least they matched.
On a side note, after I got home, took some more deep breaths, had some coffee, I discovered the missing shoe stuffed half under the corner of the fridge, and in an attempt to redeem myself as a good mother I drove the pair of shoes to the school and deposited them in Emily's cubby outside her classroom. And people wonder what I do with my time....
Friday, February 11, 2011
Car vs car
Yesterday I took our little Audi to the glass shop to get the windshield replaced. At some point it got a crack that just kept expanding, so it was definitely time. Plus, we have decided to sell it. We bought it when I went back to work so we would have 2 vehicles to transport the kids in since I worked a lot of crazy hours, and my husband's work van doesn't accept passengers. Since then, I not only have quit work, but my husband bought yet another car, so we really really don't need this many vehicles. Sadly, it is my sweet little ride that is going to go, not the most recent addition to parking lot that is my driveway. Basically because of the two, the Audi will garner us the most money. Which means that it looks like I am stuck with the worlds ugliest car parked in front of my house. Sorry Mike, but come on, it's soooo true. We're talking about a 1975 Cadillac Sedan de Ville that's about 5 million feet long (really) and smells like someone died in it. Even with the 25 little tree air fresheners that I bought it for Christmas. Speaking of which, I really tried to give it a chance at Christmas, figured I was being too hard on it, so I not only bought it air fresheners, but also some nice fuzzy dice to hang from the mirror, and a sweet hula girl to jiggle on the dash. And then when we were going to my inlaws house for Christmas dinner, I sucked it up and accepted a ride in the Beast for the very first time. My husband was so proud, pulling up in front of his parents place, with all his extended family looking on from the living room window. It was a great moment, right up until the engine suddenly revved up really high, and a huge cloud of smoke came billowing out from underneath it, and we all evacuated in a hurry, coughing and laughing all the way to the front door. Well, all of us except Mike of course. Sorry big guy! Now I just always think of Uncle Buck's car every time I look at it. Which is every day, since it is parked blocking one of the main entrances to our house. There used to be a nice rhododendron, an azalea, and a maple tree among other living things planted in that spot - but yes, he paved paradise and put up a parking lot.....but I realize that some battles just aren't meant to be won. By me at least. Because for now, it is my husbands pride and joy, and really, I tell myself, there are worse things for him to be obsessed with. Besides, I get a sick sort of pleasure from it myself, just in the making fun of it. It must satisfy some inner need I have to pick on something, even it's just a big old butt ugly car that smells like a corpse with dirty socks on. Just as long as I don't have to ride in it - by now it must know I hate it, and I start to imagine that it will turn all Christine on me, and it will try to trick me into going for a ride, and that will be it, I will never be seen or heard from again, just another one of it's many victims....hence that evil smell!
So for now I will be patient, and hope that eventually something else will come along to replace the Beast in my husband's heart. And only accept rides from my minivan.
So for now I will be patient, and hope that eventually something else will come along to replace the Beast in my husband's heart. And only accept rides from my minivan.
Wednesday, February 9, 2011
daycare - what do you think?
How much are your kids worth to you? Can you put a monetary value on them? I'm sure the vast majority of parents would be horrified at my question and reply with a resounding NO, and go on to say that their children are priceless, etc etc. So what's my point? Submit a quote for daycare to many of these same parents and watch them flip out at the cost.
I myself have been on both sides of that fence. I have worked in licensed daycare facilities, provided daycare in my home to other people's children, and have been a working mother taking my own children to a daycare. Having seen daycare in action from both points of view, I fully realize how important it is to have your children in a daycare environment that both you and your children are happy with. And sometimes that means paying a little more, or driving a little further, or whatever.
Consider this. Most dog owners at some time or another take their dogs to a kennel, say when they go on vacation. The average kennel charges anywhere from $20 to $30 on average per night for your dogs stay, plus you often have to provide your dog's food. The average daycare charges about the same per day for each child. Does that seem right? Daycare providers have sole care of your child, are completely responsible for their welfare. I guess kennel operators also have the same accountability for your dog, but really, is it comparable? We're talking about your CHILDREN.
Daycare providers in general do not get the respect that they deserve for the extremely important service that they provide for our society. Perhaps that is because nearly all daycare is provided by women, and it reflects the way society seems to still view the homemaker/mother/care provider role as secondary, or not as important. Basically, I guess what I'm saying is that daycare is not VALUED in the way that I believe it should be.
I am talking in generalities here, I do know plenty of folks who treat their daycare providers with respect, and are obviously grateful for the service they provide, and how well many of them do provide it.
What do you think?
I myself have been on both sides of that fence. I have worked in licensed daycare facilities, provided daycare in my home to other people's children, and have been a working mother taking my own children to a daycare. Having seen daycare in action from both points of view, I fully realize how important it is to have your children in a daycare environment that both you and your children are happy with. And sometimes that means paying a little more, or driving a little further, or whatever.
Consider this. Most dog owners at some time or another take their dogs to a kennel, say when they go on vacation. The average kennel charges anywhere from $20 to $30 on average per night for your dogs stay, plus you often have to provide your dog's food. The average daycare charges about the same per day for each child. Does that seem right? Daycare providers have sole care of your child, are completely responsible for their welfare. I guess kennel operators also have the same accountability for your dog, but really, is it comparable? We're talking about your CHILDREN.
Daycare providers in general do not get the respect that they deserve for the extremely important service that they provide for our society. Perhaps that is because nearly all daycare is provided by women, and it reflects the way society seems to still view the homemaker/mother/care provider role as secondary, or not as important. Basically, I guess what I'm saying is that daycare is not VALUED in the way that I believe it should be.
I am talking in generalities here, I do know plenty of folks who treat their daycare providers with respect, and are obviously grateful for the service they provide, and how well many of them do provide it.
What do you think?
Tuesday, February 8, 2011
what's it worth?
We are lucky enough to have a good sized room in our basement that the kids use as a playroom. Actually what seems to happen is that the playroom spills over into the rest of the rooms in the basement, because the girls apparently regard the entire bottom floor as their zone. I wouldn't really have any problem with that, except that they never clean up after themselves. Slowly but surely (and sometimes not so slowly) the entire basement is transformed into a something resembling a home that has just barely survived some natural disaster like an earthquake or a tornado. Now I know that although I'm not down there actually making the mess, I still have to share the blame for it with my girls. Number one - I don't remember to enforce a clean up at the end of the day/play period a lot of the time. Number two - I encourage my kids to just go and play without my participation being necessary. Isn't that the whole point of having a big basement for the kids to play in? So play they do, and play hard. They are very into making stuff out of something else, so there is always a lot of cutting, gluing, painting, colouring etc going on, as well as a lot of fort building which necessitates dismantling all of the furniture and draping of sheets and blankets. And I think that's great. Except for that moment when I venture down at the end of the day to make sure the door is locked or get something from the freezer, and I enter the wreckage of that days activities. Because I know that I have let it go too far, and now when I ask them to clean up, they will take one look at what they've done, and be totally overwhelmed by the task at hand, and much wailing and protesting and dividing up of who actually messed up what will ensue.
So. I spent the weekend telling them to clean up, or there would be no play dates for any of them for a month. I thought that would be pretty good incentive to get them moving, as they love having friends over and vice versa. No dice. By Sunday, I threw in a monetary bribe, offering a dollar to anyone who cleaned up, providing the whole area was cleaned, not just what that particular person deemed "their" share of the mess. They lollygagged around all weekend, procrastinating until Monday rolled around and the mess had only deepened. I couldn't believe they wouldn't even do it for the money. So after school Monday I announced that until the basement was cleaned up, there would be no play dates for a month, no allowance of any kind, and no TV for a full week, which would include all of the coming weekend. Talk about pulling out the big guns.I went upstairs and let them work that one out. I don't think my kids watch a huge amount of TV, some in the evening sometimes, but usually very little during the week. But apparently that was the deal breaker. After a just a few minutes of frantic discussion, up they came to let me know they were ready to clean. I handed out garbage bags and helped them break the job up into separate tasks - one person in charge of toys, one for books, one for craft items and so on, and then I set up my ipod on the portable stereo for them and cranked it up and left them to it. And they cleaned. By the end of the evening it was done, and although it needs some tweaking, it looks about a million times better. Now I have to keep up my end and be the daily clean up enforcer so we don't have to go through this all again next week....
So. I spent the weekend telling them to clean up, or there would be no play dates for any of them for a month. I thought that would be pretty good incentive to get them moving, as they love having friends over and vice versa. No dice. By Sunday, I threw in a monetary bribe, offering a dollar to anyone who cleaned up, providing the whole area was cleaned, not just what that particular person deemed "their" share of the mess. They lollygagged around all weekend, procrastinating until Monday rolled around and the mess had only deepened. I couldn't believe they wouldn't even do it for the money. So after school Monday I announced that until the basement was cleaned up, there would be no play dates for a month, no allowance of any kind, and no TV for a full week, which would include all of the coming weekend. Talk about pulling out the big guns.I went upstairs and let them work that one out. I don't think my kids watch a huge amount of TV, some in the evening sometimes, but usually very little during the week. But apparently that was the deal breaker. After a just a few minutes of frantic discussion, up they came to let me know they were ready to clean. I handed out garbage bags and helped them break the job up into separate tasks - one person in charge of toys, one for books, one for craft items and so on, and then I set up my ipod on the portable stereo for them and cranked it up and left them to it. And they cleaned. By the end of the evening it was done, and although it needs some tweaking, it looks about a million times better. Now I have to keep up my end and be the daily clean up enforcer so we don't have to go through this all again next week....
Thursday, February 3, 2011
The Corrections
So I just finished reading The Corrections by Jonathan Franzen. One of those darkly humorous books about what would appear to be a run of the mill midwest family on the outside, but then goes into lovely gorey details of how totally not run of the mill each family member is, and of course the family as a whole. The kind of book that makes me go, ahhh, I am not so weird after all, and geez, my family is doing okay. Except that at the same time, I kind of had the feeling that we are all just one wrong turn away from actually being the family in the story, or dangerously close neighbors anyway. Yikes.
the new dishwasher is here! the new dishwasher is here!
Yeah, I feel like Steve Martin in "The Jerk" when he realizes the new phone books have arrived, I am THAT jazzed. After a month of doing without, my new dishwasher will be arriving sometime tomorrow. When the old one died and my husband ordered the new one, I tried to be totally cool when he revealed that it was not available for a month. I thought, oh come on, my mother didn't grow up with a dishwasher, and my grandmother certainly didn't, and they managed, I will not be a modern woman and whine about doing a few dishes.
After a month of doing dishes after every meal for a family of five, all I can say is OH MY GOD I MISS MY DISHWASHER!!!!!! If for nothing else but the way you can hide the dirty dishes away, instead of having them pile up on the counter by the sink, by the oven, by the coffee maker, basically everywhere, because we like to cook, and a family of five plus a big meal equals one hell of a lot of dirty dishes. For a month I have been running after the kids "Hey you! What do you think you're doing?? Didn't you just have a drink of water a little while ago?? Use the same cup please!!!!" I purred with pleasure when my husband pulled out a stack of paper plates on Friday night to go with the pizza we had ordered....I am so pathetically easy to please. When the phone rang this morning and the delivery man asked if they could come tomorrow, I practically screamed YES YES YES! and did a happy dance right there in the kitchen, once again confirming to my kids that I am more than a little nuts. So okay, sorry Granny, I AM a modern woman, god help me, but seriously, if my Granny or any of those housewives had been given the chance to own a dishwasher, they would totally have jumped all over it. Unless they were COMPLETELY mental, and then sorry but I just have no sympathy for that.
So WOOHOO to tomorrow, and the arrival of my new favorite large appliance. Well, kitchen appliance anyway. I don't even want to get started on what my mental condition would be if my washer/dryer were to croak on me. Although at least there are such things as laundromats, so I wouldn't be forced to go down to the river and hand wash my undies with rocks or anything. Ha.
After a month of doing dishes after every meal for a family of five, all I can say is OH MY GOD I MISS MY DISHWASHER!!!!!! If for nothing else but the way you can hide the dirty dishes away, instead of having them pile up on the counter by the sink, by the oven, by the coffee maker, basically everywhere, because we like to cook, and a family of five plus a big meal equals one hell of a lot of dirty dishes. For a month I have been running after the kids "Hey you! What do you think you're doing?? Didn't you just have a drink of water a little while ago?? Use the same cup please!!!!" I purred with pleasure when my husband pulled out a stack of paper plates on Friday night to go with the pizza we had ordered....I am so pathetically easy to please. When the phone rang this morning and the delivery man asked if they could come tomorrow, I practically screamed YES YES YES! and did a happy dance right there in the kitchen, once again confirming to my kids that I am more than a little nuts. So okay, sorry Granny, I AM a modern woman, god help me, but seriously, if my Granny or any of those housewives had been given the chance to own a dishwasher, they would totally have jumped all over it. Unless they were COMPLETELY mental, and then sorry but I just have no sympathy for that.
So WOOHOO to tomorrow, and the arrival of my new favorite large appliance. Well, kitchen appliance anyway. I don't even want to get started on what my mental condition would be if my washer/dryer were to croak on me. Although at least there are such things as laundromats, so I wouldn't be forced to go down to the river and hand wash my undies with rocks or anything. Ha.
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