Tired Mama.com

Just be nice...

I think I either need to re-create or go out and buy this sign.

 

And I'm not sure it needs the '-Thank you' on the end either.

Grrrr.

How's your weekend going? 

Tired Mama - Year Seventeen.

Last week I spent some time poking around web sites thinking that maybe I should try and find a new blog title and URL.

My kids are older now so technically I should be getting more sleep as I don't have to get up with babies any longer. 

Then, last night? 

At 2 am I was up elbowing my husband because he was snoring so loud.

Then I was up at about 3:30 am because the cat was pawing and crying at my daughter's closed bedroom door. 

At 4 am the puppy fell off my other daughter's bed where she had been sleeping and boy, did she cry - both the puppy and my younger daughter. *

Finally, my son's alarm was set wrong so it went off at 5 am.

So, just in case you're interested,

Tired Mama? 

It looks like she's going to be here for a while yet.

Sigh.

* The puppy was fine, just freaked out.

Letting go

I was talking with a friend this weekend and I mentioned that my oldest daughter had applied to a junior college for the fall.

We talked about the financial costs, where she would live and how it would all work.

I talked about how I thought she was ready and how she was excited about the idea.

And then my friend stopped my babbling, took my hand, looked me in the eye and asked me,

'Yes, and how are you REALLY with this?'

How am I with my baby leaving home a year earlier than planned?

I'm uh, honestly?

Thrilled for her, frightened for her, sad for me, excited for her, mad at how fast time has flown and even slightly jealous.

Basically? I have no idea how I am. So far, I've just been focused on her.

But, my daughter is thinking about leaving home.

LEAVING me.

How am I with this?

I'll get back to you on that. 

Right after I take a valium.

Followed perhaps by a red wine chaser...

Sigh.

She can see things I can't..

My youngest daughter is taking some music exams in the spring and so I've been bugging her to get on with her practicing this week.

As I cleaned up the kitchen tonight I listened to her go through her music, she played well but she played quickly and she played music that I had heard often.

'Lizzie,' I called. 'Is that what you're supposed to be practicing?'

'Yep,' she replied.

'Are you sure? Bring me your teacher's notes,' I demanded.

As I read through the list with her I pointed out that nothing she had played was on the list of things to practice.

'Yes, it is,' she insisted.

'Where?' I asked giving her the book and a scowl.

'Right there,' she said, pointing at the blank part at the bottom of the page.

'Right there, written in invisible ink.'

Oh.

Right.

Silly me.

And yeah, she really does know how to turn my scowls around.

Twelve things my son needs to know....

There are all sorts of lists on the internet that document the things we should teach our children.

These lists tell us to teach our kids to believe in themselves, to dream, to dance, to sing, to be polite and to do all sorts of other good things. However, there are other things my teenage son needs to know too. 

So, today I thought I would share that list:

1. Be kind to little children, one day that gawky little girl next door will grow up to be gorgeous and she’ll tell all her beautiful friends how sweet you are. Women remember everything.
2. When a girl gets her period at school? You notice nothing, you say nothing, you offer no help, you just quickly and quietly walk away. Trust.
3. Don’t fart in small enclosed spaces. This should need no further explanation but, when you get a minute, could you explain it to your father for me? Thanks.
4. Nothing good ever happens after 2 am.
5. Don’t pick your nose in public. Ever. That includes when you’re alone in a car.
6. Never ask anyone else about their salary or their grades. Feel free to share this one with your friends.
7. If it's already on fire, put away the lighter fluid. And I'm not just talking about BBQ's or campfires here.
8. Pull up your jeans! No one really needs to see the brand name of your underwear and years from now you're going to be mortified by the pictures.
9. If you wouldn’t say it to EVERYONE in person, don’t post it on a blog, on Facebook, tweet it or put it anywhere near cyber space. One day you will need a job.
10. Never take incriminating pictures of yourself or anyone else on your cell phone. One day you will be drunk.
11. None of this hard work counts, if you don't graduate.
12. And always remember, even though I don’t always like everything you do, I will always love you. Yes, always.

Your,
Tired Mama

Dishwasher Love

I've just read that kids often understand concepts better when they are explained with pictures instead of words.

So, today I drew this. 

Yes, it is trying to help my children understand that putting their dishes in the dishwasher will make their Mama happy.

My children seem to be having problems grasping this concept.

Okay, so kids? Sink bad. Dishwasher good.

Think it'll work?

TGIF

My teenagers think they have me all figured out. 

You know what I think?

I think horrible teen attitudes have nothing to do with hormones.

I think teens just figure that if they are rotten enough to us that we'll let them stay out late at night just so we can have some peace and quiet.

What they've forgotten however is that they still need us to pick them up from where ever they are hanging out.

And teens? I need my sleep more then I need peace.  

So, pester away, cause the curfew?

It's still there.

 

How to use a hanger

I know I've posted about this before, but it seems my children need a reminder. 

You see, now that we have colder weather I have sent all my kids to school properly equipped with warm footwear, mittens, hats, scarves and a suitable coat.

But, all this toasty warm and fairly expensive gear is now lying on my mud room floor. At least the stuff that's not molding in the lost and found at school is in there, I must admit I haven't done a complete inventory.

Which leads me to - hangers.

Okay, so kids? See that little picture at the top of this post? Don't be scared, that's a hanger.

Mittens go in your coat pockets, and then the sleeves of your coat need to go over the pointy ends of this hanger thing. You then need to take the top hooked part and place it over the rod in the mud room closet. This should take about oh, all of ten seconds.

Boots can also be placed in the bottom of the same closet on the boot mats.

Hangers and boot mats are our friends. Please start using them.

I appreciate your attention.

Gesh.

What's in a name?

When my daughter entered sixth grade last September, she started at a brand new school. It's been a great success, she likes it, she's making friends, she's doing well. It's all good.

When she started at this new school however, she changed her name.

It was nothing too drastic, let's say her name is Elizabeth*, well at the new school she asked everyone to call her Lizzie.

Lizzie. My sweet little Elizabeth is now a Lizzie.

In fairness, she did ask if it was okay with me before she did it, and I told her I was fine with it, but I would continue to call her Elizabeth. But, I assured her, if she wanted all her friends to call her Lizzie, that was okay.

So, now at school, she signs all her papers, Lizzie. Her friends and even her teachers call her, Lizzie.

When we had parent-teacher interviews, all the paperwork was made out in her given name. The teachers referred to her as Lizzie however until I started referring to her as Elizabeth. They then paused for half a beat, and started to refer to her as Elizabeth too for the remainder of the conference.

When her new friends call the house and ask to speak with Lizzie, I pause for half a beat and then call Elizabeth to the phone.

But it's a little unsettling for me. My little girl was Elizabeth Anne since I first felt her roll in my tummy, and it's tough for me to think of her by any other name.

But I will, because it's really no big deal. The name is cute and really, I suppose, it's hers to pick. 

My baby is growing up.

 

* Yep, she's not really an Elizabeth, but if it's okay with you, I'll just keep her real name to myself and out of the blog world for a little longer. :)

It's done...

Christmas is finished.

The presents are all unwrapped and all the family commitments are done.

Wow.

Now comes all the exchanges, pack-ups and recycling chores.

And with all this cleaning up also comes a week and a half of the kids being home from school.

And, you know what that means?

Soon they are going to start telling me they're bored.

Yep, and once they start complaining about being bored they will start bickering with each other and then they will all be coming to me to negotiate their fights.

And once they get tired of picking on each other then they will start to demand that I dream up ways to keep them entertained.

You know, the holidays aren't what they used to be. Do you remember the before-kid-days of holiday bliss made up of lying in bed late, reading newspapers with coffee and then putting together leisurely lunches before an afternoon nap?

No?

Well honestly, I don't really remember them either. But doesn't it sound lovely? 

How many days until school starts again?

Missing in action....

One of the weirdest things about being a Mom is that things around me always seem to disappear.

Tonight it's my slipper. Yep, I have one slipper and one cold foot.

This is not making me happy.

It happens all the time, things just disappear in my house and no one can tell me where they are.

The cordless phones are never in their holders, the scissors are NEVER in the kitchen drawer and I never have a pen that works when I need to take a message.

I can't even blame any one particular child for not putting stuff away because they will all just deny any knowledge of the missing object having ever existed in the first place. 

I'm told that when my children leave home I will miss them. 

And I can't help but think that while I might miss them I won't miss my things going missing.

Except of course by the time my kids leave the nest I'll probably be so old I'll be loony as a uh, loon.

And then I'll just be left missing my mind.

Sigh.

I'm making a list...

Well, I've done it.

I've started my Christmas lists.

I've opened up my word processor, typed in everyone's name on a blank page and saved it with the title, Christmas 2012.

And yes, it's password protected.

Actually I've started making my Christmas list later then usual this year. I have no idea why, I've just been busy and then, boom, I realized yesterday that it was just a month until Christmas.

I've asked my kids what they want for Christmas this year and they haven't told me very much.

Actually they've told me a lot it's just that their lists don't contain a lot of things that I am actually going to buy for them.

So, here I am, with an empty page.

Sigh.

It's going to be a long four weeks.

I'm losing my marbles....

I have a problem.

Okay, I have several problems, but the one that's bothering me right now is that I keep calling the kids and the animals in my house the wrong names.

I actually keep calling them each other's names. For some reason I can't seem to get the right name attached to the right person or pet.

I know it's only because I'm tired and trying to do too much but, really?

It's getting embarrassing.

For example, just a minute ago, the puppy was whining and I yelled out for her to hush, but I used my daughter's name instead of the puppy's name when I yelled.

My daughter then responded by turning down the volume on the TV which distracted the dog and actually did stop the whining.

Okay, so maybe that one worked out well, but it's still not right.

I'm NOT that old. I should be able to use the names of my family members correctly. I mean I did NAME most of them.

Hmmm.

Maybe my mistake was that I didn't give them all the same name. That would've solved the whole problem.

Bob would work, or maybe Charlie. 

I might just be on to something here...

What'd ya think?

You need shoes to get to University, right?

I'm off to take my oldest daughter to the College/University Fair this afternoon.

Yes, my oldest is old enough that we have to start thinking about things like this.

And yes, I am old enough to have a daughter this old. I just don't like to admit it.

Sigh.

I have no idea what we're going to find today or what my child is going to want to look at.

My eldest has no idea what she wants to study at University and she's one of those kids who does well at a few things so she has some choices.

I want to help her, but I want her to make the decision for herself as to what she wants to do and where she wants to go. She needs to decide the future that is going to suit her best and make her happy. I can help, but I can't make the decision.

I think deep down she'd like to follow her passion for art but she knows getting a well-paying job in that field could be a challenge.

She also has great marks in science so we'll look at those programs too.

She's got the marks for medicine and she's also an amazing writer.

So. Where does one start?

Personally, I think we'll start with lunch and part way through the afternoon, if things get too much, we'll skip out of the fair and go and look for some shoes.

Yep, shoes. 

The conference is being held in a part of town that has some nice shoe stores and when the stress of deciding ones future gets too much I think it's always good to distract oneself for a while

And looking at shoes? 

That's a good distraction.

Check out time is 25.

There's a sign for sale at a local gift shop that reads, 

"Check out time is 18".

Hmmm.

Now, my kids are still young and right now I have no interest in them leaving the nest. But I am reading with increasing frequency about 'kids' who are still living at home when they are in their forties.

Forties!

I'm in my forties.

Shoot, I love my parents but we'd probably have killed each other if I was still even thinking about living at home. 

Now I know stuff happens and sometimes people have to move back home, but gesh, these stories are about kids who have NEVER left their parent's place.

So, now I'm worried. My kids have it pretty good here. I do just about everything for them and it's a pretty nice house we live in.

I love my kids and I don't want them to leave home anytime soon.

But um, children? Check out time? Let's say it's 25. Okay?

Kids don't really need dinner, do they?

I've been forced this week to get in back to school/fall mode.

This means I've not only had to sort out the kid's school schedules, but I've also had to start thinking about how the heck I'm going to feed the five of us and still get each kid to their after school activities.

It's um, challenging. 

Tomorrow night for example, my daughter has piano lessons until 5:15 and I have a new parent's school orientation to attend from 6:00 until 7:30. 

So, assuming my youngest leaves her lesson on time, and I can get home in fifteen minutes, I then have a full twenty minutes to prepare, serve and eat dinner in order to give myself ten minutes to get over to the school.

Yeah, it's a pizza night tomorrow.

Tonight I had a similar schedule so it was a crock pot night.

When I was grocery shopping earlier today I picked up a copy of American Test Kitchen's 30-Minute Supper magazine because I thought that might help.

And then I realized, most nights this fall?

I don't even have thirty minutes.

Sigh.

Sigh (times three)

It is the end of August.

That means in a few days my kids will all go back to school.

Have I mentioned that this fall my kids are all in different schools?

No?

Well, they are.

This means I have three different school schedules to figure out, three different parent volunteer groups to figure out, three different gym clothing sets to figure out, three different lunch programs to figure out and three different, well just about everything to figure out.

And right now? That seems overwhelming.

Sigh.

Actually make that,

Sigh, Sigh, Sigh.

Rain, rain, go away...

Because we planned to spend lots of time at the cottage this summer I told my kids we were limiting the days they were spending at camp.

I also told them that they had to think long and hard about how badly they wanted to play summer sports because I didn't want to be stuck driving back and forth all summer long from the lake to the city for baseball, soccer or whatever else they wanted to participate in.

So, we are indeed spending time at the lake this summer.

A lot of time.

And today?

Today it's raining.

And all this together time?

Yeah, it's um, a challenge.

But my three kids? They are actually being great - they are playing board games, reading, playing with the puppy, drawing, playing cards together and generally getting along.

It's lovely.

Then however there's my fourth child. Yes, that's the one that is five years older than I am.

I tell you, if I hear one more complaint out of him about how cottages are better in the sun, I will be filing for divorce. Seriously, the man needs a hobby that doesn't include golf clubs or a boat.

Hubby? Have a nap. 

Trust me you need it. 

And I thought toddlers got really cranky.

Sesh.

 

Really?

Quote of the day,

"Gee Mom, the kitchen really looks a lot cleaner if we just take all the dirty dishes off the counter and put them in the dishwasher."

Really? Ya think so, hon?

My children are truly brilliant.

Sigh.

Milk is a start, right?

Things have been a little chaotic lately.

My youngest is involved in a music festival that has been taking up all my time, my hubby has been travelling, I've taken on more work, and all three kids have school, numerous activities and their friends.

It's just been busy and because of that the household stuff has been left to slide a little.

Okay, things are sliding a lot.

I finally had a few hours free this afternoon so I started picking up around here, going through mail, doing dishes, throwing in laundry and I stopped on the way home and got a few groceries too.

Then, I got back to the house and started to put things away.

But when I opened the fridge I discovered that we had milk.

Now I know yesterday we were almost out of milk, but today?

There is milk in my fridge.

There is milk in my fridge that I didn't buy or ask anyone to buy.

That never happens.

I questioned my oldest daughter and discovered that she and her father had stopped on the way home from swimming last night and bought milk because they noticed we were out.

'It was no big deal, Mom', she informed me.

Well yes, it actually is.

You see, I've been the 'part-time-stay-at-home-Mom-trying-to-do-everything' around here for so long that I wasn't really sure what my family actually knew to do for themselves.

But now I am thinking maybe we really will survive if I go back to work full time. Maybe my family really will notice when things are running out or things need to get done around here. Maybe my family really can take the initiative for completing household chores. 

Maybe it won't be as chaotic as I fear around here.

Or maybe, we'll just have lots of milk.

Sigh. 

Go back to school, please.

My kids are back at school.

Thank goodness.

My children had an exceptionally long spring break this year and because we didn't go anywhere they were home for uh, far too long.

We had some fun and for the most part they got along.

But the mess. I can't believe the mess my kids make!

My kids are slobs.

Everything is everywhere when they are home and nothing EVER gets cleaned or put away.

I yell. I remind. I throw things out.

Nothing changes.

My husband says they are just being kids. That's easy for him to say, he goes to a nice tidy office all day that gets professionally cleaned each night.

Frequently, during spring break, I found myself daydreaming about my kids moving out and my house staying tidy for longer then ten minutes.

I'm told I'll miss these messy days when my kids are grown and gone.

Yeah, well - try me.

Sigh.

One-on-one time

My kids are off of school this week for their spring break.

Yes, all three are home together and we have nothing planned. This is the first time EVER that we've had a spring break and not gone somewhere.

Weird.

Surprisingly enough there's been no real fights or problems. They must be getting old. Older. Old enough? Old something.

Anyway, tomorrow we're going to drag them all out TOGETHER for some family time but over the last few days I've managed to carve out some one-on-one time with each child - just each one and me.

It's been nice, we've talked, we've shopped, and we've fixed some stuff. I've had multiple uninterrupted hours with just one child at a time. I've managed to do it with all three.

Points for Mom/Me!

Then tonight? Hubby was home and I suggested we take in a late movie. Since I had time with the kids I thought he and I should share some one-on-one time too.

He agreed, but later when I suggested we get going to the show, he informed me he wanted to watch the end of the hockey game instead.

Hockey.

Sigh.

So, I sat down with him and watched the game too. Just me, him, our son and uh, forty guys on the TV with helmets and sticks.

Romantic? Uh, no. One-on-one time with hubby? Uh, not really.

But I'm giving myself points for effort and for knowing that you can't fight a guy when his team is in a playoff run. 

Besides, we still have four days left of spring break....

She's ten. But she's only ten.

I'm pretty sure that, at this very minute, my daughter is failing a french test.

The reason I know this is because I overheard her friends talking about the test when I dropped her off at school this morning and then I watched as my daughter's face went white.

My daughter did her homework at the kitchen table last night - she did math and english. She didn't review any french. She's only ten, she forgets stuff.

In the grand scheme of things this is okay. My youngest will probably still get into University, eight years from now, even though she may have failed a fifth grade french test today. She is, after all, only ten.

On the other hand, she shouldn't be failing tests and she needs to learn to be responsible for her own work. It's time - she's ten.

I must admit I'm feeling guilty today because I could have flipped open her homework book and checked her test schedule myself, but I didn't. She was doing her work and so I just assumed she was on top of things. She is ten.

But as I sit here a part of me knows she's failing and will feel badly about it. A big part of me wants to save her from that but there's also a big part of me that thinks this is a good lesson for her to learn. She is after all, ten.

So, is she ten? Or is she only ten?

I can't decide.

Sigh.

Why I do, what I do.

Yes, she was supposed to be in bed sleeping but she was up sending e-mails.

Mom,
Thank you very much for helping me with musical! I know how much work you have done to make this possible for me. Thank you sooooooo much! I love you!!! You're the best mom in the whole wide world!!!!

Thanks again!!!
Love,
Youngest Daughter

I guess I'll forgive her for staying up a little past her bed-time. 

A whole heap of love.... and other stuff

When we renovated our back hall last year we put in a mud room.

In this mud room we built three locker type closets - one for each of my children. Each locker has hooks inside it so that my kids can hang up their coats, backpacks and school stuff. Each locker also has two shelves where my kids can stack their boots and books.

I really didn't expect anything to get neatly put away. I did however naively assume that each child would open their locker door, throw their stuff inside and then slam the door quick enough so nothing fell out.

Nope.

My kids still walk in the back door, drop everything inside the entrance and then carry on about their business.

Why?

It. drives. me. crazy.

Yesterday I almost took up the heap of boots, coats, books, mitts and assorted crap and threw it out the back door into a snow bank.

But I didn't. I didn't because it's wet and snowy here and some of that EXPENSIVE stuff that I have shopped, bought and paid GOOD money for could have gotten ruined.

So, I yelled instead and I threatened my kids. And yesterday everything got slowly picked up and put away by my kids.

And today?

Today, everything is in a big heap at the back door again.

Sigh.

May all your dreams come true.*

'I have two dreams,' my youngest informed me as we drove home from school today.

'Really? What are those?' I inquired.

'Why do you want to know?' she asked suddenly suspicious.

'Well,' I said. 'As your mother I'd like to help make all your dreams come true if I can. I kinda see that as part of my job.'

My daughter thought about this for a bit and then proceeded to tell me what her two dreams are. 

Now, I won't tell you exactly what she said, but I will tell you that I now have to have a long talk with hubby about getting a puppy.

Yep - a dog.

Because I honestly do think it's part of my job to help make my daughter's dreams come true.

And, my youngest?

She knows exactly how to play me to get what she wants. 

Sigh.

 

*Alternate titles considered for this post were: 'Just Shoot Me' and 'Sucker Mama'.

Is there a rating system for bumper stickers?

I was following a truck today that had a bumper sticker on it that read, 'Dodge the father. Ram the daughter.'

Yeah, it was on a Dodge Ram 4X4 truck.

Classy.

I'm all for free speech, but really?

Really?

It's icy in my part of the world, but I found myself leaving even more space between this truck and my van so I was very sure that I wouldn't slide into it and then be forced to stop and have to find out who the person was that puts this kinda stuff on their vehicle.

Maybe that was their whole point.

Personally, I hope they were just passing through.

Rules are meant to be broken

We have a rule in our house that you can't curse until you're twenty-one.

You can drive at sixteen, drink at nineteen and swear and vote at twenty-one. That's just the way things roll around here.

And yes, I did make up this rule when I swore once and was good and ready to swear again until my young children reminded me that I had told them that swearing was illegal.

Really? I thought at the time, I said that?

But the rule has stuck.

Tonight as I was cooking dinner I managed to burn a hole right through the oven mitt I was using and I scorched my hand.

Yes, I admit that while I was rushing to put my hand under cold running water a few choice words may have escaped my lips.

My daughters were upstairs doing homework and were oblivious.

My son, who should have been upstairs doing homework but wasn't, came to investigate.

'What did you do?' he asked.

I filled him in.

'If I burn my hand, can I say what you just said?' he wanted to know.

'Yes,' I replied. 'If you are making dinner for the entire family and burn your hand badly enough that you have to throw out the oven mitt that was supposed to be protecting you, and if it's bad enough that you're thinking about driving yourself to the hospital then yes, you may say a few four letter words.'

'Cool,' he replied and sauntered away.

Really?

Cool?

My son thinks that it's worth getting a second degree burn just so he can swear in front of me without getting a lecture?

I guess I'm stricter than I thought. 

Learning from the master

Yesterday at the dinner table some good natured teasing between my children started to tip over to the side of being nasty.

'Stop it,' I told them, 'you're just being mean.'

'We're just kidding,' declared my son, glaring at his little sister who looked like she was about to cry, 'besides she's gotta learn how to take sarcasm,' he said pointedly.

'No, she doesn't,' I replied. 'And the sarcasm in this family has got to stop too.'

I then continued to plunk dinner on the table. 

A few minutes later I noticed that my children were all silently staring at me.

'What?' I asked.

'Um, Mom? Seriously? I mean you're probably one of the most sarcastic people I know,' my eldest informed me.

Me?

Sarcastic?

I am not.

Okay, maybe once in a while. But it's better than telling someone they're an idiot, right?

Right?

'Just eat your dinner,' I told them.

Some fights I'm just not gonna win.

Older than dirt.

Well, it's official. I am OLD.

I took my daughter to get her learner's permit today. In my town this is known as getting a G1 license.

She passed.

Yesterday my beautiful baby turned sixteen and today she can drive.

Argh.

My girl will be a good driver, that's not the problem. The problem is basically that MY DAUGHTER IS OLD ENOUGH TO DRIVE.

Yes, all caps.

This means I am no longer nineteen. Hell, I'm no longer even in my thirties.

I am healthy and I am loved. Yes, I know that I am all sorts of good things.

But today? Today, I have a daughter who is old enough to drive.

Let's just wallow in that for a while, shall we?

We'll get back to being positive tomorrow.

Or next week.

Maybe.