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| L to R: ?, Luke B, Austin H, Carter, Ethan W, Cade W |
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| "Ros didn't like the fondant, but she thought it was pretty fantastic that her tongue turned blue." - Pam T |
Thursday, March 24, 2011
Blue and Gold Banquet
Monday, March 21, 2011
The New Normal
Part one:
Nine days ago, I wrote a post called "Feel the Angels" that I later took down. It stayed up just long enough to post in friends' blog readers and make them worry (sorry, again). I wrote it at a time when I needed to vent, but couldn't vent to family... then realized that someone who knows our family might see it and it would suck for them to hear about our little crisis that way.
Here's the whole post:
Right now at my house, we're going through some pretty major mental illness-related crap.
I don't want to violate my child's privacy and I haven't told my family about it yet. He doesn't know most of you readers, so it's easier to write it here.
Hubby and I are sticking close together and staying close to our kid.
Going through it relatively alone seems like the best way right now. Privacy, you know. Our child will have to resurface and resume his life at some point and we'd like it to be as smooth a transition as possible.
But right now I need a chance to vent, and support, and prayers.
Part two:
On Friday, March 11, around 12:30, Hubby called me and said he'd received a call from a local hospital. Our son was in the emergency room. He'd been thinking of attempting suicide. He left school and was close enough to doing it that he scared himself and called 911. Two sweet police officers went immediately to him and kept him safe until the ambulance came for him.
I picked up Hubby at work and we went to the hospital together. We spent the rest of the day and evening with our boy until, finally, he was released to our care, but only long enough for us to grab a few things at home for him, and take him to the psychiatric ward of a hospital in a neighboring town.
We had to leave him there, and walk away. In the waiting room, we held each other and I cried. That was when I felt the angels around me.
He spent almost a week there. They played with his medications (hooray for Effexor) and taught him coping skills and helped him identify his "triggers" and counseled with him.
We visited him every day, sometimes twice. We brought him treats and funny little toys from those machines you put a quarter in and turn the knob and a plastic bubble pops out with a toy inside. (The fake mustaches were his favorite.)
Hubby and I alternated between feeling utterly stunned and overwhelmed, and trying to keep life normal for the other four kids. I cried when I was alone, or while on the phone with my parents.
Last Thursday, he came home. Minus the screaming and diapers, it was like having a new baby in the house: we were excited to have him at home, and way freaked that we would do something wrong.
Part three:
With heavenly help, we are making it.
Underlying all the other feelings has been gratitude, which is so not what I was expecting. I have been so grateful this last while - for that strong will to live that our Heavenly Father has been wise enough to place inside us, for 911 - the number and the dispatchers, for ambulances and paramedics and police officers, for hospitals, doctors, nurses, social workers, and MEDICATION. For medical understanding and knowledge. For my family. For my friends. For loving ward members. For good food and a nice home and clothing. For those silly vending machines that spit out fake mustaches.
For our four other wonderful children, who helped keep us going. Otherwise it would have been really easy to just climb into the kid's hospital bed and grab him and not let go, and cry my eyes out (which would have been awkward).
And now, for the "new normal."
Learning about mental illness.
Joking around about mental illness - it can be done.
Enjoying our son's medication along with him (he takes it, we get to watch his pupils dilate). He might need to have it tweaked yet again... but it's keeping him alive and helps him enjoy things he hadn't enjoyed for a long time. How much fun it is to hear him LAUGH again. How long had it been since the last time we heard him laugh?
While running errands, seeing an ambulance with sirens and flashing lights take off toward our home. And following it to see where it goes. And feeling relief and laughing at our paranoia, when it goes down someone else's street. Hoping that wherever it goes, the person needing the ambulance will be OK.
Car voices and house voices. Loud sounds are one of his triggers.
Fielding questions from family and friends. Hearing their stories. Feeling loved and supported and understood.
Hugging all five babies more often.
Easy weeping - for joy and for pain.
Knowing it could happen again any day. Enjoying the good days. Bracing up (and keeping the laundry caught up) for the bad ones.
Knowing that Heavenly Father knows our family, as a whole and each of us individually, and loves us, and wants us to be okay. Knowing there are lessons for us to learn.
And again, underneath it all, gratitude, for all the good things - for all the things it was, and all the things it wasn't - for what could have happened, that didn't.
I will be forever grateful.
Nine days ago, I wrote a post called "Feel the Angels" that I later took down. It stayed up just long enough to post in friends' blog readers and make them worry (sorry, again). I wrote it at a time when I needed to vent, but couldn't vent to family... then realized that someone who knows our family might see it and it would suck for them to hear about our little crisis that way.
Here's the whole post:
Right now at my house, we're going through some pretty major mental illness-related crap.
I don't want to violate my child's privacy and I haven't told my family about it yet. He doesn't know most of you readers, so it's easier to write it here.
Hubby and I are sticking close together and staying close to our kid.
Going through it relatively alone seems like the best way right now. Privacy, you know. Our child will have to resurface and resume his life at some point and we'd like it to be as smooth a transition as possible.
But right now I need a chance to vent, and support, and prayers.
Part two:
On Friday, March 11, around 12:30, Hubby called me and said he'd received a call from a local hospital. Our son was in the emergency room. He'd been thinking of attempting suicide. He left school and was close enough to doing it that he scared himself and called 911. Two sweet police officers went immediately to him and kept him safe until the ambulance came for him.
I picked up Hubby at work and we went to the hospital together. We spent the rest of the day and evening with our boy until, finally, he was released to our care, but only long enough for us to grab a few things at home for him, and take him to the psychiatric ward of a hospital in a neighboring town.
We had to leave him there, and walk away. In the waiting room, we held each other and I cried. That was when I felt the angels around me.
He spent almost a week there. They played with his medications (hooray for Effexor) and taught him coping skills and helped him identify his "triggers" and counseled with him.
We visited him every day, sometimes twice. We brought him treats and funny little toys from those machines you put a quarter in and turn the knob and a plastic bubble pops out with a toy inside. (The fake mustaches were his favorite.)
Hubby and I alternated between feeling utterly stunned and overwhelmed, and trying to keep life normal for the other four kids. I cried when I was alone, or while on the phone with my parents.
Last Thursday, he came home. Minus the screaming and diapers, it was like having a new baby in the house: we were excited to have him at home, and way freaked that we would do something wrong.
Part three:
With heavenly help, we are making it.
Underlying all the other feelings has been gratitude, which is so not what I was expecting. I have been so grateful this last while - for that strong will to live that our Heavenly Father has been wise enough to place inside us, for 911 - the number and the dispatchers, for ambulances and paramedics and police officers, for hospitals, doctors, nurses, social workers, and MEDICATION. For medical understanding and knowledge. For my family. For my friends. For loving ward members. For good food and a nice home and clothing. For those silly vending machines that spit out fake mustaches.
For our four other wonderful children, who helped keep us going. Otherwise it would have been really easy to just climb into the kid's hospital bed and grab him and not let go, and cry my eyes out (which would have been awkward).
And now, for the "new normal."
Learning about mental illness.
Joking around about mental illness - it can be done.
Enjoying our son's medication along with him (he takes it, we get to watch his pupils dilate). He might need to have it tweaked yet again... but it's keeping him alive and helps him enjoy things he hadn't enjoyed for a long time. How much fun it is to hear him LAUGH again. How long had it been since the last time we heard him laugh?
While running errands, seeing an ambulance with sirens and flashing lights take off toward our home. And following it to see where it goes. And feeling relief and laughing at our paranoia, when it goes down someone else's street. Hoping that wherever it goes, the person needing the ambulance will be OK.
Car voices and house voices. Loud sounds are one of his triggers.
Fielding questions from family and friends. Hearing their stories. Feeling loved and supported and understood.
Hugging all five babies more often.
Easy weeping - for joy and for pain.
Knowing it could happen again any day. Enjoying the good days. Bracing up (and keeping the laundry caught up) for the bad ones.
Knowing that Heavenly Father knows our family, as a whole and each of us individually, and loves us, and wants us to be okay. Knowing there are lessons for us to learn.
And again, underneath it all, gratitude, for all the good things - for all the things it was, and all the things it wasn't - for what could have happened, that didn't.
I will be forever grateful.
Sunday, March 20, 2011
It's Here!
Spring is here!
It comes at 4:21 PDT (the time zone which includes my lovely burg of Elk Snout). I'm trying to think of what to do to commemorate it. I'll most likely be pulling into my driveway after coming home from church, which seems horribly ordinary and boring. I was kind of hoping to be home so I could lie on the bare ground and, I don't know, be equinoxed.
If I speed all the way home, do you think the officer who pulls me over will accept "I was trying to get home in time to fully experience the equinox" as a legitimate excuse?
What will you be doing at 4:21 PDT today?
It comes at 4:21 PDT (the time zone which includes my lovely burg of Elk Snout). I'm trying to think of what to do to commemorate it. I'll most likely be pulling into my driveway after coming home from church, which seems horribly ordinary and boring. I was kind of hoping to be home so I could lie on the bare ground and, I don't know, be equinoxed.
If I speed all the way home, do you think the officer who pulls me over will accept "I was trying to get home in time to fully experience the equinox" as a legitimate excuse?
What will you be doing at 4:21 PDT today?
Thursday, March 3, 2011
The Insomnia Habit
...has me firmly in its grasp lately.
I suppose it's a good time of life for it. I'm still at home, but all five kids are in school. Once they're gone for the day, I can sleep. I'm not fond of living this way but I can do it.
My biggest problem is being awake at night (duh). I don't mind it. We moved a TV into our room long ago, which I know doesn't help insomnia but it distracts me back to sleep sometimes. My body doesn't like to wake up in the middle of the night, but my brain is always ready to. Waiting for it, even.
At night, I always think of everything I could be doing instead of lying in bed trying to go back to sleep. Hubby is a light sleeper - if I'm thinking of something unpleasant and sigh heavily, he hears it and doesn't quite wake up, but I can tell he knows I'm awake. Having me in bed helps him sleep better, so I stay in bed, since he has a job and can't nap all day like I can (I don't, but I can).
Like right now, I'm listening to some farming show on PBS, texting this post on my phone, and gazing at the fingerprints I'd like to Windex off my mirrored closet door, if only it wouldn't wake up Hubby.
During the day I couldn't care less about the fingerprints.
I can think of several things I could do to change this malady, but they, like everything else I feel like doing, will have to wait until daytime.
How do you handle bouts of sleeplessness?
I suppose it's a good time of life for it. I'm still at home, but all five kids are in school. Once they're gone for the day, I can sleep. I'm not fond of living this way but I can do it.
My biggest problem is being awake at night (duh). I don't mind it. We moved a TV into our room long ago, which I know doesn't help insomnia but it distracts me back to sleep sometimes. My body doesn't like to wake up in the middle of the night, but my brain is always ready to. Waiting for it, even.
At night, I always think of everything I could be doing instead of lying in bed trying to go back to sleep. Hubby is a light sleeper - if I'm thinking of something unpleasant and sigh heavily, he hears it and doesn't quite wake up, but I can tell he knows I'm awake. Having me in bed helps him sleep better, so I stay in bed, since he has a job and can't nap all day like I can (I don't, but I can).
Like right now, I'm listening to some farming show on PBS, texting this post on my phone, and gazing at the fingerprints I'd like to Windex off my mirrored closet door, if only it wouldn't wake up Hubby.
During the day I couldn't care less about the fingerprints.
I can think of several things I could do to change this malady, but they, like everything else I feel like doing, will have to wait until daytime.
How do you handle bouts of sleeplessness?
Friday, February 25, 2011
Such a huge geek
My new "text" ringtone
Charlie Sheen's shenanigans put me in the mood... some of his best work was done in Ferris Bueller's Day Off. Yeah, I said it.
Downloading movie quotes as wav files is my new favorite thing to do with my phone. My life is ... uneventful lately. Yay :)
Charlie Sheen's shenanigans put me in the mood... some of his best work was done in Ferris Bueller's Day Off. Yeah, I said it.
Downloading movie quotes as wav files is my new favorite thing to do with my phone. My life is ... uneventful lately. Yay :)
Thursday, February 17, 2011
Being Sick is Gross
But I'm grateful for the nice man who stayed home from work long enough to help sickly me get the kids ready for school.
I'm excited to see the new episode of Who Do You Think You Are? featuring Rosie O'Donnell, tonight. I have conflicted feelings about Rosie - I feel like she's been through a lot and has some issues, I don't agree with the things she says much of the time, but she's very talented and funny. Should be an interesting episode. There's so much great history in these shows - I loved Brooke Shields' episode last season.
Wisdom of the day: May we all live our lives so that nothing we do will ever land us on the Dr. Phil show. (Guess what freak show I was watching today.)
Later this evening: If a bad cold with a debilitating sinus headache isn't enough to get me out of driving people to soccer, what is? Polio? Scabies? Tourette's?
I'm excited to see the new episode of Who Do You Think You Are? featuring Rosie O'Donnell, tonight. I have conflicted feelings about Rosie - I feel like she's been through a lot and has some issues, I don't agree with the things she says much of the time, but she's very talented and funny. Should be an interesting episode. There's so much great history in these shows - I loved Brooke Shields' episode last season.
Wisdom of the day: May we all live our lives so that nothing we do will ever land us on the Dr. Phil show. (Guess what freak show I was watching today.)
Later this evening: If a bad cold with a debilitating sinus headache isn't enough to get me out of driving people to soccer, what is? Polio? Scabies? Tourette's?
Wednesday, February 16, 2011
No Solicitors
What's a nice way to tell Facebook friends, "If we're only Facebook friends so you can bug me to buy whatever crap you're hawking, please dump me right now"?
I'm not talking about family or close friends or people I knew long before they started selling. If you sell something and you're reading this post, the odds are good that you're not who I mean. I'm talking about acquaintances from high school or former ward members I was never close to, whose posts almost always revolve around their product. It's obvious they never saw me as anything more than a potential customer.
Which is fine. I see most people that way.
What I would sell, I don't know.
But that's beside the point. The point is, these people must be STOPPED and I have to STOP them.
Now to think of some diplomatic way to do it (besides unfriending them - I still have a hard time doing that).
If you come up with something, let me know.
I'm not talking about family or close friends or people I knew long before they started selling. If you sell something and you're reading this post, the odds are good that you're not who I mean. I'm talking about acquaintances from high school or former ward members I was never close to, whose posts almost always revolve around their product. It's obvious they never saw me as anything more than a potential customer.
Which is fine. I see most people that way.
What I would sell, I don't know.
But that's beside the point. The point is, these people must be STOPPED and I have to STOP them.
Now to think of some diplomatic way to do it (besides unfriending them - I still have a hard time doing that).
If you come up with something, let me know.
Friday, February 11, 2011
WHY
I'm a bit peeved at finding out that my child's class' Valentine's Day party is TODAY. Can we not hold the party on the actual holiday? It's not like Valentine's Day doesn't fall on a school day this year.
I half-think this teacher is trying to trip me up. (wink) I'm sure teacher had a good reason - it was just very unwelcome news at 8:15 this morning.
Then I got to the store and found out that someone had forgotten to put my debit card back in my wallet.... *yipping and snarling*
It worked out. The kid was late, but had valentines to give out. You want the kid there on time, you hold the party on the right day!
Now that the GREAT CRISIS is over, I'm bummed. We were going to make cute homemade Valentines this year. Wahh, wahhh... The other kid will still be able to, since their party is on Monday, but it would have been nice if they both could have.
Thursday, February 10, 2011
Thursday, January 27, 2011
Random Observations
1) I recently had a birthday. I did not shout "hurray" but I did eat as much of a Costco All American Chocolate Cake as I could stomach. That is RICH cake (and I love rich stuff).
2) It's sad that there's a whole generation of people (younger than me) who don't quite get the significance of 80s musicians showing up in cameos on "Yo Gabba Gabba." Come ON. Biz Markie teaching kids to beatbox isn't awesome?
And the non-fans can get kind of snotty about it. I don't quite get it.
3) It's never good to try to jog wearing Birkenstocks and no bra. It just doesn't work. You heard it here - now you don't have to try it.
4) This is my new ringtone. I am satisfied.
5) Hummus is surprisingly good on whole wheat plain toast. Kind of like crackers.
6) I don't WANT to take my Christmas tree down. I will. But I hate doing it. We have a fake tree, I'm not sick of looking at it yet, and it's tedious, horrible, boring, stupid, barf-inspiring work.
7) You blog people are awesome. Smooches to you all.
2) It's sad that there's a whole generation of people (younger than me) who don't quite get the significance of 80s musicians showing up in cameos on "Yo Gabba Gabba." Come ON. Biz Markie teaching kids to beatbox isn't awesome?
And the non-fans can get kind of snotty about it. I don't quite get it.
3) It's never good to try to jog wearing Birkenstocks and no bra. It just doesn't work. You heard it here - now you don't have to try it.
4) This is my new ringtone. I am satisfied.
5) Hummus is surprisingly good on whole wheat plain toast. Kind of like crackers.
6) I don't WANT to take my Christmas tree down. I will. But I hate doing it. We have a fake tree, I'm not sick of looking at it yet, and it's tedious, horrible, boring, stupid, barf-inspiring work.
7) You blog people are awesome. Smooches to you all.
Sunday, January 23, 2011
TOOOOOOOOES
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| Tiny Toe Zombie hits the jackpot |
I'm preparing a church lesson, and I don't like teaching "with paper", so I'm copying the lesson from the church website to my phone.
<3 Always and forever <3
Wednesday, January 19, 2011
Sunday, January 16, 2011
"I enjoy it auditorially."
Thus quoth Bella, regarding Gnarls Barkley's "Crazy", which she recently bought from iTunes. Her mother's geekiness is rubbing off. Awww.
Enough motherly goopiness. Let's get down to business.
Ease Up There, Love Chop Award
I'm not one to blog much about weather, unless I'm out in it. With our car now dead (or at least looking that way), we've been hoofing it this week. The Old Lady Grocery Cart has been used twice now - once by Hubby, who reluctantly agreed that it was a good purchase and might be joined by another cart, since our family is full of locust-like children and we have such a hard time keeping groceries in the house. Not buying them, just keeping them around. "There's nothing to eat!"
But back to the weather. We've experienced quite the gamut since the stupid car was stupidly thrown into the stupid lane divider (by the stupid ice), ranging from "colder than a well-digger's butt in January" to sunny to windy to cloudy to sprinkly to "What new car? We need to buy kayaks!"
The end is in sight, as we will soon know if our stupid car is worth stupidly fixing - Hubby and I are guessing, and I admit, hoping that it probably isn't - and our mechanic, a family friend, has another car for us to look at and possibly buy. We will only have to walk to the store one or two more times.
So I'm asking the weather: Ease Up There, Love Chop. Please take pity on our footbound family. We really don't mind walking. We lack a sense of societal convention. We're armpit-hair-sprouting dirt-munching hippies and have chosen to see this situation as an adventure. But weather, can you just cooperate? Until we have our new car, or can buy a few more umbrellas?
In other news: Life rocks. We're healthy, we're happy, we're warm, we're full, we have toys to play with. The Year of Ease continues.
Enough motherly goopiness. Let's get down to business.
Ease Up There, Love Chop Award
I'm not one to blog much about weather, unless I'm out in it. With our car now dead (or at least looking that way), we've been hoofing it this week. The Old Lady Grocery Cart has been used twice now - once by Hubby, who reluctantly agreed that it was a good purchase and might be joined by another cart, since our family is full of locust-like children and we have such a hard time keeping groceries in the house. Not buying them, just keeping them around. "There's nothing to eat!"
But back to the weather. We've experienced quite the gamut since the stupid car was stupidly thrown into the stupid lane divider (by the stupid ice), ranging from "colder than a well-digger's butt in January" to sunny to windy to cloudy to sprinkly to "What new car? We need to buy kayaks!"
The end is in sight, as we will soon know if our stupid car is worth stupidly fixing - Hubby and I are guessing, and I admit, hoping that it probably isn't - and our mechanic, a family friend, has another car for us to look at and possibly buy. We will only have to walk to the store one or two more times.
So I'm asking the weather: Ease Up There, Love Chop. Please take pity on our footbound family. We really don't mind walking. We lack a sense of societal convention. We're armpit-hair-sprouting dirt-munching hippies and have chosen to see this situation as an adventure. But weather, can you just cooperate? Until we have our new car, or can buy a few more umbrellas?
In other news: Life rocks. We're healthy, we're happy, we're warm, we're full, we have toys to play with. The Year of Ease continues.
Saturday, January 15, 2011
He can borrow my SLICKER
Wishing Hubby and Bella a safe trip to Sammamish and a great game... see you tonight!
Tonight's discussion: The Killers' lead singer vs Neon Trees' lead singer.
Tonight's discussion: The Killers' lead singer vs Neon Trees' lead singer.
Thursday, January 13, 2011
Throwback
Brennan is a senior in high school this year. We had some pictures taken at the mall, including a set of wallet-size photos, which he needed to give to the yearbook staff. "Give the rest of them to your friends," I suggested.
He sighed and smiled, and it hit me. Duhhhh.
"Mome..." he explained so patiently. "When we want pictures of each other, we just send them to each other's PHONES."
No paper photographs. The genealogist in me shudders.
Seriously, it's kind of sad - I still have pictures of friends from high school haunting a box in the garage. The only photographic evidence he will have will be on his phone - or on Facebook. So odd to me, to not have something tactile to keep forever, something on which they can write a message (write! Like, with a pen!) and sign their name to and be embarrassed by two years later. It's a good thing we still have yearbooks.
He sighed and smiled, and it hit me. Duhhhh.
"Mome..." he explained so patiently. "When we want pictures of each other, we just send them to each other's PHONES."
No paper photographs. The genealogist in me shudders.
Seriously, it's kind of sad - I still have pictures of friends from high school haunting a box in the garage. The only photographic evidence he will have will be on his phone - or on Facebook. So odd to me, to not have something tactile to keep forever, something on which they can write a message (write! Like, with a pen!) and sign their name to and be embarrassed by two years later. It's a good thing we still have yearbooks.
Sunday, January 9, 2011
Saturday, January 8, 2011
The Weekend
This hike! I have to take it!
The car! I broke it! On the way to the indoor soccer place, early Saturday morning, the roads were ultraslick. We hit an ice patch and swerved, I overcorrected (actually, I just grabbed the steering wheel and futilely wiggled it in ANY direction while slamming on the brakes), and we hit a short lane divider with the wheel before stopping. Then we drove the dumb thing home and parked it FOREVER.
OK, not forever. That would be my wish but it's not happening.
On payday we'll have it fixed. It's a good thing we're close to everything. It's a good thing I planned for just such an occasion and bought that "old lady" grocery cart (much to Hubby's amusement - who's laughing now, Big Boy?). It's really crappy that this happened in winter. Duh, ice, can't you come in summer when it's warm?
This floorplan! Yes, I'm way dreaming with that one. Wouldn't it be fun, though?
The latest Facebook pet peeve!: Sending friend requests to high school classmates you barely remember, just so you can further your kid's career in rock music. "They're playing a gig here!" "Show up here on this day for a video shoot!"
I've already hidden the guy, but he's taken to sending private messages en masse, and invitations which require a response. Must you make me publicly reject your child? I barely know you.
And that was the weekend. How was yours?
The car! I broke it! On the way to the indoor soccer place, early Saturday morning, the roads were ultraslick. We hit an ice patch and swerved, I overcorrected (actually, I just grabbed the steering wheel and futilely wiggled it in ANY direction while slamming on the brakes), and we hit a short lane divider with the wheel before stopping. Then we drove the dumb thing home and parked it FOREVER.
OK, not forever. That would be my wish but it's not happening.
On payday we'll have it fixed. It's a good thing we're close to everything. It's a good thing I planned for just such an occasion and bought that "old lady" grocery cart (much to Hubby's amusement - who's laughing now, Big Boy?). It's really crappy that this happened in winter. Duh, ice, can't you come in summer when it's warm?
This floorplan! Yes, I'm way dreaming with that one. Wouldn't it be fun, though?
The latest Facebook pet peeve!: Sending friend requests to high school classmates you barely remember, just so you can further your kid's career in rock music. "They're playing a gig here!" "Show up here on this day for a video shoot!"
I've already hidden the guy, but he's taken to sending private messages en masse, and invitations which require a response. Must you make me publicly reject your child? I barely know you.
And that was the weekend. How was yours?
Thursday, January 6, 2011
Why I Am Going To H311
Reason 421.
Every afternoon, just as I am lovingly enfolding my two youngest (Carter, 9; Rosalind, 6) into my bounteous motherly arms, feeding them hand-squeezed hand-pasteurized milk from our cow and letting them feast on hot homemade cookies, congratulating them on triumphing against another day of school...
*DING DONG*
Here come the Wonder Twins.
The Wonder Twins are not actual twins, but brothers, one of whom is in Carter's class at school, but they are indeed wondrous -
Every day, they make their parents disappear.
They're basically nice kids (aside from the occasional begging - "Can I keep your Nerf gun?" - and menacing my other children - "If you don't do what Carter wants, I'll beat you up").
But they show up at 3:05 every afternoon, they play with Carter for awhile, and then I get tired of them or am ready to make dinner or take one of my children somewhere.
I excuse them to leave. "You are welcome to go home now, Wonder Twins."
"We can't," they say in precise, practiced, dead-eyed unison. "No one is home at our house."
I'm sorry, what?
"We can't go home. Our parents aren't home and the house is all locked up and we can't get inside."
I believed them the first time. The first time, they were lying. "Their father was home," their embarrassed mother griped to me on her way home from work. "They just wanted to stay and play with Carter."
Last night... they were not lying.
And you know how Wednesday night is. It's nutty. We have a Cub Scout and an 11-year-old Scout and two kids in Mutual. I'm in the Young Women program (necessitating my also being at Mutual) and my husband is the 11-year-old Scout leader.
So, at 5:00 yesterday evening, when the Wonder Twins were invited to vacate and they put forth their little "dilemma," I found myself walking the fine line between resentment for being considered the neighborhood drop-in day care (And why not? I have five children, I must LOVE yours), irritation at being inconvenienced, and murderous rage.
It is a very fine line.
"Get in the car, Wonder Twins," I nicely thundered at them. "We'll just see if no one is home at your house."
"But..."
"JUST GET IN THE CAR. Carter, you come with us."
And, true to their word (for once), no one was at home.
Now feeling extremely crappy for cranking at these children for a situation FAR beyond their control, I stopped my desperate doorbell-ringing and screen door-rattling, went back to the car, and drove them to another neighbor's house: the neighbor they apparently use as backup. "Our dad said we should go here if we can't stay at your house."
These two little boys exited my car and went to the neighbor's door. It was obvious they were not expected (and probably not very welcome, either).
I drove home, livid. Who makes their elementary school-age children live like this, wandering around trying to find a warm dry spot, like stray cats?
Their dad called me. "Wifey? My wife said you called."
Oh, so she's sick of my frantic phone calls and foists them on you now.
"So what's up?" he continued.
Well, Disappearing Dad, your days of abusing your neighbors' kindness and using our house as your own personal orphanage are hopefully numbered. Let's try this out.
"Your boys came over to play today and when it was time to go home, the house was locked and no one was home, so I took them to Trevor's house."
He said the first of several amazingly bad things:
1. "O-kay..." he spoke haltingly, as if my depositing his offspring at a house other than my own was really putting him out. "I - THINK - I - know where Trevor's house is."
You have to be kidding me. Your kids consider this one of their homes away from home, and you THINK you know which house it is?
2. "They TOLD me you said it was OK."
Hello? Remember last time? Your kids are liars... at least, that's what your wife told me. Now I'm starting to wonder.
3. "They're over at your house so much, I was wondering what's been going on over there!"
It's called "put on your shoes and walk over and meet your neighbors." We're indoctrinating them, to hate stupid parenting techniques. They just LOVE our Kool-Aid.
4. "The boys like coming to your house so much, I figure if they're there, they'll be gone for two or three hours, so I can go run errands."
So I do. I leave my third- and second-grade babies to the mercy of virtual strangers. I leave, and I don't tell the boys where I'm going or when I'll be back, I don't leave a door unlocked for them in case they come home, I don't give them a key and teach them how to use it. I DEFINITELY don't tell my boys' new unpaid babysitter where I'm going (let alone ASK her if it's all right with her), and I make sure I don't leave my cell phone number with her. That's none of her business.
I just leave, lock up the house like it's Fort Knox, point the boys in the neighbors' direction, and hope the neighbors pick up my "crappy father" slack.
In all seriousness... my husband and I are of differing opinions about this guy - I think he's just stupid and has entitlement issues. Hubby suspects drugs or another woman ("Why can't he run errands while they're at school?"). I told Hubby, when I went to the front door of their house, I half-expected to see Dad lying on the living room floor, half-dressed, in a pool of his own puke. How else to explain for this lack of parental feeling, if not something chemical-related?
I seriously considered calling Child Protective Services and reporting two abandoned children and a set of neglectful parents. They're probably onto me now, though.
And that's why I'm going to H311.
Every afternoon, just as I am lovingly enfolding my two youngest (Carter, 9; Rosalind, 6) into my bounteous motherly arms, feeding them hand-squeezed hand-pasteurized milk from our cow and letting them feast on hot homemade cookies, congratulating them on triumphing against another day of school...
*DING DONG*
Here come the Wonder Twins.
The Wonder Twins are not actual twins, but brothers, one of whom is in Carter's class at school, but they are indeed wondrous -
Every day, they make their parents disappear.
They're basically nice kids (aside from the occasional begging - "Can I keep your Nerf gun?" - and menacing my other children - "If you don't do what Carter wants, I'll beat you up").
But they show up at 3:05 every afternoon, they play with Carter for awhile, and then I get tired of them or am ready to make dinner or take one of my children somewhere.
I excuse them to leave. "You are welcome to go home now, Wonder Twins."
"We can't," they say in precise, practiced, dead-eyed unison. "No one is home at our house."
I'm sorry, what?
"We can't go home. Our parents aren't home and the house is all locked up and we can't get inside."
I believed them the first time. The first time, they were lying. "Their father was home," their embarrassed mother griped to me on her way home from work. "They just wanted to stay and play with Carter."
Last night... they were not lying.
And you know how Wednesday night is. It's nutty. We have a Cub Scout and an 11-year-old Scout and two kids in Mutual. I'm in the Young Women program (necessitating my also being at Mutual) and my husband is the 11-year-old Scout leader.
So, at 5:00 yesterday evening, when the Wonder Twins were invited to vacate and they put forth their little "dilemma," I found myself walking the fine line between resentment for being considered the neighborhood drop-in day care (And why not? I have five children, I must LOVE yours), irritation at being inconvenienced, and murderous rage.
It is a very fine line.
"Get in the car, Wonder Twins," I nicely thundered at them. "We'll just see if no one is home at your house."
"But..."
"JUST GET IN THE CAR. Carter, you come with us."
And, true to their word (for once), no one was at home.
Now feeling extremely crappy for cranking at these children for a situation FAR beyond their control, I stopped my desperate doorbell-ringing and screen door-rattling, went back to the car, and drove them to another neighbor's house: the neighbor they apparently use as backup. "Our dad said we should go here if we can't stay at your house."
These two little boys exited my car and went to the neighbor's door. It was obvious they were not expected (and probably not very welcome, either).
I drove home, livid. Who makes their elementary school-age children live like this, wandering around trying to find a warm dry spot, like stray cats?
Their dad called me. "Wifey? My wife said you called."
Oh, so she's sick of my frantic phone calls and foists them on you now.
"So what's up?" he continued.
Well, Disappearing Dad, your days of abusing your neighbors' kindness and using our house as your own personal orphanage are hopefully numbered. Let's try this out.
"Your boys came over to play today and when it was time to go home, the house was locked and no one was home, so I took them to Trevor's house."
He said the first of several amazingly bad things:
1. "O-kay..." he spoke haltingly, as if my depositing his offspring at a house other than my own was really putting him out. "I - THINK - I - know where Trevor's house is."
You have to be kidding me. Your kids consider this one of their homes away from home, and you THINK you know which house it is?
2. "They TOLD me you said it was OK."
Hello? Remember last time? Your kids are liars... at least, that's what your wife told me. Now I'm starting to wonder.
3. "They're over at your house so much, I was wondering what's been going on over there!"
It's called "put on your shoes and walk over and meet your neighbors." We're indoctrinating them, to hate stupid parenting techniques. They just LOVE our Kool-Aid.
4. "The boys like coming to your house so much, I figure if they're there, they'll be gone for two or three hours, so I can go run errands."
So I do. I leave my third- and second-grade babies to the mercy of virtual strangers. I leave, and I don't tell the boys where I'm going or when I'll be back, I don't leave a door unlocked for them in case they come home, I don't give them a key and teach them how to use it. I DEFINITELY don't tell my boys' new unpaid babysitter where I'm going (let alone ASK her if it's all right with her), and I make sure I don't leave my cell phone number with her. That's none of her business.
I just leave, lock up the house like it's Fort Knox, point the boys in the neighbors' direction, and hope the neighbors pick up my "crappy father" slack.
In all seriousness... my husband and I are of differing opinions about this guy - I think he's just stupid and has entitlement issues. Hubby suspects drugs or another woman ("Why can't he run errands while they're at school?"). I told Hubby, when I went to the front door of their house, I half-expected to see Dad lying on the living room floor, half-dressed, in a pool of his own puke. How else to explain for this lack of parental feeling, if not something chemical-related?
I seriously considered calling Child Protective Services and reporting two abandoned children and a set of neglectful parents. They're probably onto me now, though.
And that's why I'm going to H311.
Wednesday, January 5, 2011
People Who Have It Easy... Or Do They?
So I was going to post all these videos of intros to superhero television shows - The Six Million Dollar Man, et al - but of course "embedding has been disabled." I HATE disabled embedding!!!
I did find this clip, though. This is a major Google moment for me, so I hope you appreciate the significance. I couldn't think of their names, I could only remember that it was a live action children's show on ABC from the 70s. I think that's what I Googled.
Please tell me I'm not the only one who remembers this show.
I was especially surprised to see that this is how Deirdre Hall got her start in TV.
Please tell me you know who Deirdre Hall is. Without Googling.
I think this is how midlife crises start... after a while, it becomes clear to you that no one knows who or what you're talking about anymore.
I can just imagine how my grandmother must feel.
I did find this clip, though. This is a major Google moment for me, so I hope you appreciate the significance. I couldn't think of their names, I could only remember that it was a live action children's show on ABC from the 70s. I think that's what I Googled.
Please tell me I'm not the only one who remembers this show.
I was especially surprised to see that this is how Deirdre Hall got her start in TV.
Please tell me you know who Deirdre Hall is. Without Googling.
I think this is how midlife crises start... after a while, it becomes clear to you that no one knows who or what you're talking about anymore.
I can just imagine how my grandmother must feel.
Wednesday, December 29, 2010
The Struggle Is Real
All this time off from school and our regular activities is messing with my head. Today I turned on the news to see what day of the week it is.
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