Tired Mama.com

Learn from me

IF you happen to have a young child in the house and you HAPPEN to be in the bathroom standing at the sink doing their hair in the near future and IF you're over uh, thirty?

DO NOT put your hands on your child's shoulders and take your face and put it next to theirs and smile in the mirror at the two of you.

Because if you do, your skin will look OLD and WRINKLED and well just, AWFUL next to your child's gorgeous creamy even-toned plumped complexion.

Trust me on this one. Do not try this for yourself.

I'm still trying to recover.

No. Just no, okay?

I knew that parenting would be a challenge. I knew I would make mistakes.

What I didn't realize before I became a parent was how much negotiating I would have to do.

And I'm okay negotiating with my husband and for work.

It's the negotiating with my kids that is starting to drive me crazy.

There's the bedtime negotiating. That whine for just five more minutes.

There's the homework negotiating. The plea for putting it off for a while.

There's the 'who gets to sit in the front seat' fight that I seem to always be negotiating.

There's the ' yes, you HAVE to wear your winter coat to school' discussion I must negotiate EVERY flippin morning.

You know what? It is wearing me out.

All this negotiating, and the bickering that goes along with it, is driving me crazy.

I need a vacation. A looooong vacation.

Where should we go?

Ah-ha! Darn.

You know those 'ah-ha' moments that Oprah and people like her talk about? Those moments when something you didn't know before suddenly becomes stunningly clear?

Well, I had one of those moments tonight.

I was picking up my children's discarded coats from the back hall floor and I asked my ticked off self, when my kids would finally be old enough to come in the door and hang their coats up themselves.

And then I thought to myself, they probably won't do it until they have to pay for their darn coats themselves.

Ah ha!

I think I'm right.

I'm sorta depressed by the thought mind you, but I think I'm right.

Is nine years old too young for me to force my child to get a job to pay for her own clothes?

I thought so.

Sigh.

The downside of Christmas

Is it just here or is anyone else's house um, trashed?

Yep, there have been three children and a husband home for the last week or so and I don't think any of them have done any cleaning, picking up or tidying. 

There is Christmas clutter on top of normal clutter on top of uh, more stuff.

It's a mess here.

I don't want to clean up. I don't want to argue with my family about tidying up.

But really? This has gotten out of hand. Our house is a mess. We NEED to start cleaning up and putting stuff away.

Let the nagging begin.

Sigh.

Merry Christmas

Merry Christmas.

Yes, I know it was yesterday but I was thinking about you. Honest.

Christmas here at our house was nice. It was quiet because a lot of our extended family spent Christmas looking for the sun down south, so it was just us.

We had turkey, we opened presents, we spent the better part of the day in our PJ's. It was low key and lovely.

But now Christmas is over.

So, now comes the hard part. This week I have to pack-up all the Christmas clutter and start to think about what I want the new year to bring. Should I go back to work full-time? Should we continue the house renovations? Should I focus and try to earn some real money with my writing or should I just spend 2010 trying to lose some weight and working on cleaning out the basement.

Blah.

Blah to all of that.

You know what? I have a week before the new year starts, I think I'll worry about all this stuff then. 

Right now I think I'm just gonna take a nap in front of the fire. 

Turkey leftovers and thinking about the future make me tired.

Smack me

Climate change is at a crisis point.

Millions of children around the world are living below the poverty line.

Babys are being aborted because their parents cannot afford to raise them.

Our hospitals are full of people who are injured or terminally ill.

Um, and here?

I'm fussing because I can't get my Christmas garland to hang properly on the stairs.

Oy.

It's beginning to look a little like...

It's the first of December.

So far this month?

I've already killed a poinsettia by over watering it. Seriously, it's December 1st, isn't there a law or something that says you can't kill a poinsettia the first week you get it?

Secondly, I forgot to fill the advent calendar before the kids came down this morning. Sorry, guys.

And finally? The cat is eating the Christmas village. It seems our kitten likes the taste of those little green plasticy-woody pretend tree things. All of my little village trees have tiny cat bites out of them now, it's like something out of an old Japanese monster movie. If they could, all the little village ceramic people would be running away and hiding.

Oy.

Can we just skip through to January? I'm not sure I want to continue preparing for Christmas if this is the way things are going to go.

Sigh.

H1N1 and a really big sigh

When my daughter got up for school today and complained about a sore throat I must admit I paid more attention to her then I would have this time last year.

I used to be the type of Mom who figured that if there was no fever, blood or vomiting my kids could go to school.

This morning? This morning I wavered a bit and then I went here and used the provincial flu assessment tool to see if I needed to do anything for her.

I didn't. She's fine but I must admit I'm turning into a bit of an um, lunatic over the smallest cold symptoms in my kids these days.

You see, all this hoopla in the paper over the 'Swine Flu' has made me uneasy. It's also made me more aware of how fast a healthy kid can get really sick.

And?

I. Don't. Like. It.

I was the Mom who, a short month ago, wasn't going to give my kids the H1N1 shot. I figured that we'd been through many flu seasons and never really gotten that sick so, why bother? I'm also not a big fan of putting stuff into my family's bodies for no good reason.

What changed?

Well a child, a healthy child who lived one town over from us and, in many ways, reminded me a lot of my own son died from H1N1.

Died.

Gulp.

I then talked to a friend who is an ER critical care doctor and I asked him his opinion on getting the vaccination for my family.

He told me to get the H1N1 shot.

I asked him what the difference was between this flu and the other flu's that I've been blithely ignoring in the past.

'Leanne,' he said, 'this flu can kill you.'

Oh.

So, right now? As of today, my two younger children and I have had the H1N1 shot and my husband and my older daughter have not.

I plan on taking my older daughter to get the shot soon. This will be difficult as she is completely and irrationally terrified of needles.

Sigh.

Hubby? I've given him my opinion, now I just hope he finds the time to look after it for himself. I may have to badger him a bit about it too.

Double sigh.

What did you decide to do?

Take your Child to Work Day

Today was the day in my home town where you were supposed to take your Grade 9 (Freshman) child to work with you - only if you happen to have one kicking around the house, of course.

This is a provincially run program set up to give the kids a glimpse into different job opportunities and help them see a little of what the 'real' world looks like.

So, Tired Papa took our eldest daughter to work with him today.

She had a good time and seemed to enjoy herself. The only problem she had was everyone kept telling her all day that she looked like uh, me.

Um, people? Although I am not coyote ugly, no fourteen year old wants to be told all day that she looks like her forty-something year old Mom.

Just sayin'. 

And yes, I do find the whole thing funny - in an evil sort of way.

Bwaahaha. 

Does anyone know?

How long can sandwich meat sit in the fridge before I shouldn't make sandwiches with it anymore?

If milk smells bad but tastes fine, is it okay?

Can Jello go bad?

Yes, I'm cleaning out my fridge.

Oh, and is salami really meat or is it something else?

And should I really be paying attention to the best-before-dates on salad dressing or are they just there to make me buy more?

Does anyone really know the answers to all this kinda stuff?

You know what? I think maybe this is why Google was invented.

I'd go and surf out the answers but I'm tired. I think I'll just go and find a big green garbage bag instead.

Oh, and who put Jello in my fridge anyway?

I hate Jello.

Sigh.

Ain't love grand?

So, if your husband came to you at about 9 pm and told you that you looked really tired and you should turn off your computer and go to bed, would you be glad that he noticed or would you wonder why your husband, your supposed sweetheart, was telling you that you looked like CRAP?

Yeah. That's what I'm thinking too.

I'm off to put on my jammie's.

Night all.

You only have two feet....

Can shoes breed?

I'm starting to think so.

They must.

It's the only reason I can come up with to explain why we have so many darn shoes in my house.

I've decided they must be genetically programmed to breed, multiple and then run around my house and plant themselves in the middle of hallways.

It's not just one breed either, the wayward shoes in my house are of different sizes, shapes, colours and many even have weird things attached to them - like uh, cleats.

Shoe racks don't seem to contain these pests. These vermin are taking over my house and I don't like it.

I'm thinking about setting traps.

Will that work? Oh, but if I set them free once I catch them, will they just scatter again?

Darn kids shoes.

Sigh.

Roses are red...

We live close enough to the small center of our town that I sometimes let my twelve year old son bike or walk with a group of his friends downtown to get ice cream.

Last weekend they stopped on the way home and picked up hamburger buns at the bakery for me. So, this weekend I asked my son and his buddies to stop at the fruit stand and buy me some flowers.

Yep, flowers. I asked four twelve year old boys to stop and pick up flowers.

They were quite willing to run the errand since I was paying for the ice cream, but  they weren't that sure on how to buy the flowers.

'What kind of flowers?' one asked.

'Do we have to pick them?' asked another.

'How do you buy flowers at a fruit market?' asked the third.

My son, who has picked out many flowers for our kitchen table in the past, simply wanted to know what colour I wanted.

So, off the boys went and a short time later they returned with lovely yellow tulips for my kitchen table.

Perfect.

Then today I went into the fruit shop to pick up some things. The lovely lady who works there was happy to tell me that she had seen my son and his friends come in to the market to buy flowers on the weekend.

She also told me that the boys had declined her offer to help them pick out the flowers and had only smiled when she accused them of buying the flowers because they were in trouble for something.

She had then proceeded to ask the boys if the girl they were buying the flowers for was pretty. She reported that my son had answered, 'yeah, she's not bad'. Now this woman wanted to know who the lucky recipient of the flowers was.

Uh, that would be me.

But, not bad? My son thinks I'm 'not bad' looking?

I can't decide whether to be insulted or simply amused. I am, after all, his mother and he is twelve. I can't help but wish he would still think I'm beautiful like he did when he was two years old, but at least he's not telling the lady that I'm coyote ugly.

So, if you'll excuse me I'm going to go and smell my tulips. The ones my son bought for me.

Thanks, buddy.

Pick again

My youngest is now nine.

Over the past few months she's started to make some rumblings about the state of her room. It seems she's no longer happy to have pink and purple fairies dancing around in there with a big pink crown as a head board.

My youngest seems to no longer think that she is a princess. Go figure.

So, we've picked out a new bedding set.  This one:

It's cute, bold and tweenish. I think it'll work for a few years.

I also agreed to paint her room. 'What colour do you want it to be?' I asked carelessly.

When she asked for my opinion, I told her to pick a colour from the comforter cover. I suggested pink or purple or green or even yellow.

But what does she want?

Black.

Shiny black, please.

Uh, no.

Sigh.

Can I borrow a shovel?

It's Monday morning.

On Monday mornings I spend a fair amount of time tidying up my house. I do it because it allows me to avoid working and because, after the weekend, my house REALLY needs to be dug out from under all the crap that got thrown at it while my kids and hubby were home full time.

This morning's task is going to be to try and find my kitchen table.

I have a new kitchen table arriving in November but I still need to use my current one for dinner tonight. Right now I can't even see it because it is piled full of papers, bags of apples, dishes and goodness knows what else that my beloved family heaped on it over the weekend.

My goal is to get it dug out by dinner time.

I have two large garbage bags and an empty dishwasher so I'm hopeful.

After that I need to clean out my fridge.

No wonder people hate Mondays.

Sigh.

Signs

I did a couple of things yesterday that I haven't done in a while.

In the morning I went to the local kitchen store and I bought some knives. I know, I know, I'm a party animal.

But, since my kids started helping me in the kitchen oh about, twelve years ago I haven't had any really good quality sharp knives as I never wanted my babies to grab one and hurt themselves. 

But this past weekend, as I was making a total mess of pealing a peach, it occurred to me that my youngest is now nine. I can probably trust them not to slice themselves open on a sharp knife.

Lightbulb!

So, I went out yesterday and bought two Henckels branded knives and you know what? These suckers are sharp.

The second thing I did was I went to Bath and Body Works and bought a few of their scented candles. 

For years if I bought candles my kids would either immediately blow them out, thinking they were birthday cake candles, or they'd stick their finger in them to see what would happen. I've also been known to forget all about a burning candle and leave the house or go to bed with it still lit.

I also can't stand the smell of a dirty diaper layered over with uh, a lavender scent or a green tree smell or some such thing.

Today? Now I have a 'Sweet Cinnamon Pumpkin' smell permeating my house thanks to the pretty new candle I bought yesterday.

I can do these things now. My kids are growing up.

Sigh.

Now, how long do you think it'll take before I cut my finger or burn down my kitchen?

I give myself about two days.

Wow

When pigs fly!

When hell freezes over!

When gosh um, I don't know - but there's got to be more.

What? What?

What, you ask?

Tired Papa and I stayed home today and worked around the house and um, I got all the laundry done.

All. of. it.

Alert the press, Mt. Laundry was conquered for at least six hours today.

Will wonders never cease to amaze.

Breakfast of Champions

So, would you give your kids freshly baked (still warm) frosted brownies for breakfast?

If you're the kinda Mom who thinks this sounds like fun, then yes, of course when my kids asked me if they could have brownies for breakfast I let them eat some from the pan that I had just baked.

If you think this is totally unhealthy and only a horrible Mom would let her kids have brownies for breakfast then tsk-tsk, of course I didn't let them have any, I made them wait until dinner.

Besides, warm frosted brownies? I love brownies. Do you honestly think there'd be any of them LEFT for the kids to eat?

Okay, maybe a few. Very few. 

What can I say? We're pudgy, but we're happy.

Enjoy your Sunday. 

I don't like this feeling

It's that time of the year.

Summer is winding down which means I need to attend the end of the year baseball and soccer finals as well as buy new shoes and supplies for school.

The family is coming over for a BBQ tomorrow because we haven't seen some of them all summer (guilt) and we've got a birthday party to go to tonight for a good friend.

It seems busy right now and school and all the fall activities haven't even yet begun yet.

I've started thinking about Christmas too. I even went to the local electronics store and pre-ordered one of the new video electronic thingys that's being released in October. My kids have already mentioned it and I'm not standing in line in December EVER again to find out I can't get one of these stupid must have teen things.

I've started making lists again. I haven't had to do that for a while - okay, I haven't done it for a few weeks.

I'm starting to feel it - that panicy busy feeling is starting to return.

Sigh. Where did the lazy summer days go?

Mums aren't us - yet.

Yep, I'm back.

And yes, I had a wonderful two week northern cottage vacation - thank you for asking.

The down side of being away however is that some of my flower pots uh, died.

Yes, we finally had sun and heat while I was gone and it seems my plants had gotten use to all that cool rainy weather we had here for the ENTIRE month of July.

So, when I was picking up milk and bread tonight I had a quick peek at the garden centre to see what was available to replace my dead flowers.

What did I see?

Fall Mums.

Ack.

It's way too early for Mums.

I guess we'll be plantless for a few weeks.

Sigh.

Home Messy Home

My house is a mess.

It's usually a mess but right now it's messier than normal because my kids are home on summer vacation and they are incapable of putting anything away or doing tidying of any kind.

I miss the days when I sent my kidlets off to school, cleaned up the house and then the house STAYED tidy until they came home.

During the school year I have six hours or so of a tidy okay, tidier house.

I miss that.

If it wasn't for the early start and the homework I might actually be wishing that school started again soon.

Really, really soon.

Sigh.

Good Grief

I have a public service announcement.

Children everywhere, listen up!

It is NOT appropriate to EVER leave the house in your pajamas unless it is pajama day at school or the house is on fire.

Honest.

And it doesn't matter if your PJ's look like shorts and a t-shirt and it's warm outside.

And it doesn't matter that no one will care, you should care and your mother cares.

And it doesn't matter that you're wearing them under sports equipment and no one will know. Put a t-shirt and shorts on under the darn stuff.

Rolling out of bed and heading out to play in pajamas is just not cool.

There, my beloved offspring, you've now been told.

Sesh.

Filing

I'm filing tonight.

Yes, I do in fact know how to have a good time; I've just decided to file tonight instead.

You see the towers of paper in my office are threatening to fall over and possibly kill me so I thought I'd drag out the recycling bucket and some file folders and get it all sorted out instead of uh, dying.

I am having a problem though as I have lost the letters H, I and J from my filing system.

Aren't you impressed that I even have letters in little tabby things attached to file folders in file drawers in my office? You should be, this level of organization is usually well planned for by me, but rarely executed.

So, what was I saying? Oh yeah, the little white tags with the black letters on them  for H, I and J have gone missing from my office file drawers. The files that should be slotted neatly behind these letters are gone too.

This is perplexing. I have no idea where they are and it's confusing the whole system as I don't know what to do with the papers that should be filed under J, H and I.

I know I could just write out new tags but I want to know where the old ones have run away to. I mean how does this sort of thing happen?

You know what I'm thinking? I'm thinking it's way too hard to get organized. I think I may just have to push all the piles of paper under my bed instead.

I figure if I push all the papers under my bed then the papers just might push the lost socks out the other side of the bed and then it'll be a win-win.

Except of course all the H, I and J files will still be missing.

Sigh.

I'm rambling again.

As we were talking to a landscaping 'guy' last night, Tired Papa told him that August 15th would mark our three year anniversary living in this house.

Wow. We seem to be actually settling here.

Before we moved here we lived in the USA for seven years and then the UK for two years. My eldest was almost three when we moved to the States and my son was three weeks old. Yep, it was nuts.

But I digress. What occurred to me was the fact that my kids have lived longer outside of this country, our country, more than we've lived here.

It still seems weird to me that my kids have known more of another country then they do of their/my own. Of course my youngest was born in the USA so really she's lived longer in her country than mine.

Does it matter?

Not really. I loved living in the USA, and the UK and I'm thrilled to be home too.

It just hit me as interesting and a little bit weird. And it once again made me realize how fast time races on.

Oh, and it also made me realize that one of the first things I was going to do when I moved home (yes, three years ago now, Tired Papa!) was buy a new kitchen table. But we went shopping this weekend and I still don't have one.

I'm going out shopping for one again today. I think I'm going to have to go to one of those nice wood working places and have a table built to my specifications.

Based on my history of being completely unable to make a decision, when it comes to buying furniture, this whole process should be interesting and probably totally unproductive.

It really shouldn't be this hard. Yes, I am pathetic. But I'm blaming the warm weather. I mean who wants to be decisive when it's finally sunny out?

Let's go with that. The alternative is just too sad.

Furniture is just too hard to buy

Tired Papa hates furniture shopping and I am indecisive.

For the past eight years we've needed a new kitchen table. We haven't bought one because I can't decide what I want and then when I do decide Tired Papa won't come and look at it so we don't get anything. 

This week however I am determined to buy a new kitchen table.

If Tired Papa won't look at it and then doesn't like it after it's delivered then it's his problem, right? 

I figure it'll go really fast because I won't want to be inside shopping when I can be out in the sunshine.

At least I hope so. This holding my plate on my knee to eat dinner is starting to get me down.

Sigh.

Lists. Again.

Between the dance recital this week, the piano recital next weekend, the guitar show, baseball, soccer, synchronized swimming, school parties and gosh knows what else going on in June, I have had to start making lists again.

I'm making big lists too. I seem to have the kinda lists going here that usually only happen at Christmas time.

But each event I mentioned has a hundred little pieces to manage for it and so I've started making lists to try and keep on top of things.

I was even thinking of making a master list to help keep track of the lists.

Yep, it's official - I have lost my mind.

Oh, but for everyone who asked after yesterday's post. YES! We got the perfect grade eight graduation dress. It is pretty, age appropriate and looks stunning on my daughter.

That is a big huge enormous thing off the list.

That would be the uh, graduation list.

Does anyone know where I put that list?

Sigh.

Neat Freak I am.

Dear Son,

Yes, I am a neat freak.

If that means that I want your crap picked up off the floor and your laundry put away then yes, I am a neat freak.

If being a neat freak means I want you to clean out the guinea pig's cage weekly so that I can't smell it the minute I walk in the freakin front door then yes, I am a neat freak.

I am also a neat freak if it means I don't want your sports equipment spread out all over the kitchen table. I mean come on, it's a JOCK. 

Neat freak.

At first I was sorta upset when you called me that.

Now? I like it.

Now, go put your stuff away. Quickly. Before I decide I don't like it again and get mad.

Love,
Tired Mama

Yes, I have a teenage daughter.

So tell me, what's better?

Sending your teenage daughter out to school in the morning with a chocolate frosted Pop-Tart and glass of milk in her, or letting her start her day without eating anything at all?

Yeah, I get that a bowl of cereal, fruit, toast, juice or just about ANYTHING would be better but you wanna know the one thing I have learned about parenting?

You can't make kids eat, sleep or go to the toilet if they don't want to.

Sigh.

You were saying?

In our back hall I have a sign board. I got it years ago at Pottery Barn and it sort of looks like something you'd find in a restaurant to list meal specials and prices.

I've always used it to put up funny sayings, or just say 'Merry/Happy What-ever' to my family and our guests. I've also always put 'We love you' on the bottom line. 

Since I noticed today that it still said 'Happy Easter' on the board I asked my eldest daughter to change it.

She didn't know what to put on the sign so I suggested she just put up something about spring. I suggested, 'Happy Spring'.

What did she put up? This,

Sigh.

Reality Check

As we were driving home from school yesterday my son asked me where he was going to park his car.

'Um, your car?' I asked.

My son is eleven.

Yeah, he wanted to know if he was going to have to park it outside.

I told him he'd probably park it at his house.

'My house?' he replied, obviously confused.

My son assumed since he could get his driver's license at sixteen, he could get a car at sixteen too.

I then explained how car payments, gas charges, insurance and repair bills worked.

My son then figured out he's probably got enough money saved for a couple of tires.

He was very quiet and I felt sorta bad for him. A little.

TiredMama - destroyer of dreams.

Or perhaps just an advocate of working hard to achieve them.

It works both ways I hope.