channeling homer again

This is how I feel right now. Brain dead. Wiped out. Not firing on all cylinders. I have never been the best at dealing with too many decisions and too much stress at the same time. What I should do is make a list of everything that needs to get done and then just start crossing things off one at a time. What I actually do is refuse to do anything and eat a lot of peanut m&m's and hope that everything will sort itself out. This is the reason why I was the first person done with my chemistry final in college and also the reason why my professor suggested that I might want to look at majoring in something other than biochemistry. This is also the reason why my blog has been less than stellar this past week. My brain is in shut down mode.
Right now, I'm trying to juggle the following:
 - packing up my house just enough to make it look organized for potential buyers but not so much that we can't live in it.
 - cleaning my house (woefully behind on this one)
 - continuing to take care of my family
 - trying to design a kitchen - should the stove and the sink be close together or should the fridge be next to the sink? why are corner cupboards so terribly awkward? drawers or cabinets?
 - helping my child learn to stay in his room during bedtime
 - keeping up with my other responsibilities

And so next week, as a special treat for myself and in honor of the holiday, I've decided that I'm not going to blog about children or moving or kitchens or anything else related to my life as it stands right now. Instead, I'm going to take a break and spend the week writing about some of my misadventures from my time in Indonesia. And hopefully by the end of next week I'll be feeling a little less like Homer and a little more like myself. Just thought I'd warn you.



photo by: davidjschenk  http://www.flickr.com/photos/42457561@N03/4594129560/

left behind

Last week, I took the kids to the pool along with their Aunt Yaya. When it was time to leave, I packed Caia into the stroller and headed out to get the car while Yaya stayed with the boys. Whoever designed the pool placed the gate rather far away from the parking lot so I normally bring the car around instead of trying to wrangle all three kids.
After I had put Caia into the car, I walked around back to fold up the stroller and looked up to see Jem running across the parking lot, tears streaming down his face. My first instinct was to scold him for running in the parking lot. But instead I asked him what he was doing? He responded, "Everyone left me."
While I was taking Caia to the car, Libby (Aunt Yaya) was helping Truett use the restroom. I had heard Truett ask her for help before I walked out and assumed that Jem had as well since he had been standing right there. But he had walked over to the foosball table, turned around and suddenly realized that no one was with him. I felt terrible.
I scooped him up and hugged him to me telling him that I would never, ever leave him behind. I said that he must have been really scared and he looked at me and said, "I was so sad Mommy." And I will admit that I felt terrible but also thankful. He was perfectly fine and I had been given a reminder that my boy does love me or that maybe he just doesn't want to be left by himself at the pool. I'll go with the first one.

photo by: 5inthemornin  http://www.flickr.com/photos/5inthemornin/6860582061/

five minutes

Yesterday, I took a bike ride. It was a short ride around the neighborhood at my in-laws' house that lasted no more than five minutes. I don't take bike rides very often and, when I do, it is on wide, flat surfaces with zero obstacles and very little traffic. I had some bad experiences with bike riding when I spent a semester abroad in Indonesia. I actually didn't get back on to a bike for six years. But that is a different story.
I have since ventured out a few times and found that I enjoy it, as long as the aforementioned criteria are met. Mountain biking? No thanks. Biking on a busy road? Not gonna happen. But a ride through a neighborhood is doable.
And yesterday, as I was riding, I had this moment of joy. I felt as though God told me to take a look around and enjoy the moment that He was giving me. It was a moment of being alone without any responsibilities. It was a blue sky, wind in your hair moment that reminded me that I am a person outside of being a mom. It reminded me of how much I loved riding a bike when I was a little girl. I loved that feeling of freedom, being able to get from point A to point B by yourself. Feeling the wind whip past you as you glided down a hill.
Now don't get me wrong. I'm still saying an emphatic no to mountain biking. But it was a brief reminder that enjoying life means paying attention and reveling in the simple moments. And that even a seemingly insignificant five minutes can change your outlook.

photo by: .I travel East.  http://www.flickr.com/photos/i_travel_east/5035444013/

a morning constitutional

This morning the kids and I went for a walk. I wasn't sure how it would go. I don't often do walks with all three of them because a) someone usually gets tired and wants to be carried and b) someone usually gets excited and starts running and doesn't always listen when I ask them to stop. But I thought I would give it a shot today.

 Caia traveled in the front pack which she loves but which, incidentally, kills my neck and shoulders. She isn't a small baby. The boys gathered up their walking gear which meant a backpack for Jem and a backpack, toy binoculars, and one of my headbands  for Tru.
As we walked they decided to look for clues to help them find a dinosaur. Every break in the sidewalk or divot in the road was somewhere a dinosaur had stepped. The long tar marks on the macadam from construction work were where a dinosaur had dragged his tail. And when the thunder started, that was a dinosaur stomping around. We never did find the dinosaur because we had to cut our excursion short when it started to rain.
We were three blocks from home which isn't that far except when you have two preschoolers with you. They didn't mind at all and I wouldn't have been in a hurry to get home except for the baby. She didn't seem to mind the rain either if her chubby, kicking legs were any indication, but I didn't think having her out there was the best idea. Jem ran ahead of us splashing in puddles while Tru held my hand and talked all about finding a dinosaur.
I did my best to pay attention to him while in my mind wondering if every person driving by was thinking about how awful it was for me to have my kids, especially the baby, out in the rain. Did they think that I was completely irresponsible? Did they think I was dumb for not checking the weather report or heeding the thunder? Or did they just think, "too bad for them." And then, in the midst of my judgemental attitude about other people being judgemental towards me (did you follow that?) a mini-van backed up and pulled over and a woman stuck her head out into the pouring rain. She offered to let us climb into her van to wait out the storm. I assured her that we were mere footsteps from our house and thanked her very much for her kindness. I then proceeded to herd the kids to our backyard, feeling convicted about my assumptions that everyone I saw today was judging me. As if they have nothing better to do. The boys stayed out in the rain while Caia and I retreated indoors to dry off.
Thinking about it now, I'm realizing that even if every single other person who drove past us thought that I was a horrible mom, I would still do it again. Because my boys had a wonderful time and I really enjoyed being with them and pretending with them. Besides, a little rain never hurt anybody.

wondering

Last night was bad. Truett went to sleep like a dream and I thought that we had finally turned the corner with him getting out of bed. Then 3am hit and we spent the next three hours dealing with him getting out of bed and coming into our room and screaming and asking for water, and crying. It was awful.
And, as I'm typing, bedtime is only an hour away and Sam and I find ourselves at odds with how to deal with the issue. I want to find a way to keep him in his bed, like another crib tent, even if they were recalled. Sam wants to move him back in with Jem. But I think we have two different goals. Sam wants to sleep the whole way through the night without interruption and I want to get up early in the morning and have time to myself without any children for an hour. Actually, we'd both love to sleep all night and have some quiet in the mornings. The difference is that Sam doesn't operate well on less sleep and I don't handle my children well if I don't have some time to just be a normal person before becoming Mom for the next twelve hours.
So as bedtime approaches and I know that I will try it Sam's way, I'm sitting here wondering what my new goal should be. Actually, I'm wondering if I can let go of what I want without feeling resentful. I'm wondering if my chlid will ever sleep and stay in his room. I'm wondering what else I can try to get us past this. I'm wondering if my child is seeking out attention at night because I don't give him enough during the day. I'm wondering who will emerge victorious from this battle. And I'm wondering if I'm even up for the challenge.
Guess I'll find out in t-minus 37 minutes. 

photo by: Beca  http://www.flickr.com/photos/rebeca_p/5044872613/

Sam got sucked into a marathon of "My Big Fat American Gypsy Wedding" on Saturday. It's kind of like a car wreck. You don't want to watch but it is so hard to look away. At one point, he paused the show and rewound it so that I could hear something that one of the Gypsy wives had to say.

"To have a dinner ready for your husband when he comes home from a long day of work is the best feeling you'll ever have in the world."

Huh. I'm thinking that she may have been exaggerating a tad. The best feeling ever? In the entire world? I do feel a sense of accomplishment when I cook and I enjoy trying new things and I really like it when my family enjoys what I've made. But I can't say that plopping that roast down on the table is the best feeling ever. Let's see. Back rubs. The first time your baby smiles at  you. Hearing that one person say, "I love you." Reading a really good book. Listening to a great song. Yep. All better than having dinner ready.

Or maybe there is something wrong with me. Maybe that is one of the best feelings in the world but I'm somehow missing out on it. That would be tragic because it happens four to five times a week, sometimes even more, and if it is really that awesome I'd like to reap some of the benefits of that awesomeness. I guess I'll just have to watch more episodes of the Gypsy wedding show and see if I can figure out what I'm missing.

photo by: thepeachmartini  http://www.flickr.com/photos/thepeachmartini/4820907653/

every woman's dream?

When Sam and I were looking at houses we both had our areas that we inspected. He was very much about the "feel" of the house while also looking at the practical issues of utilities and the condition of water heaters, furnaces and other large metal contraptions in the basement. I was more about the practicalities of every day living. Were the closets spacious and if not, could we fit a dresser into the room? How many electrical outlets were in each room? Was the laundry in the basement or on the first or second floor? And I was always concerned with the "feel" of the kitchen.
I spend 75% of my day in the kitchen, making meals and cleaning up after them. I enjoy cooking. Cleaning up, not so much. But regardless, the fact remains that I spend a lot of time in that one room. So I'm always looking for a kitchen that feels like it is part of the rest of the house and not boxed off.
Our new home has a galley kitchen that is boxed in and lacks space. So we've decided to redo it which sounds like a dream come true. I can plan out my own kitchen down to every last detail. I can make it efficient and warm and inviting.
That's what I was thinking until we sat down with a very helpful kitchen planner. You don't realize how big a fridge is until it is taking up space in your kitchen that you wanted for something else, like a pantry. And then you realize how much these people want you to pay for one cupboard. I suggested that we just nail milk crates to the wall and use those instead. I had no idea how much a kitchen install would cost and when it came time to hear how much just our cupboards and counter top were going to run us, I had to get up and walk away.
I have been having dreams about cupboards ever since. Sam tells me to relax but the last thing I want to do is make a mistake and plan it incorrectly. This will be my kitchen for the next 20 years so I can't exactly come back to him a year from now and say, "I really wish we had gotten more drawers instead of cupboards on the bottom." I have to get it right. It's also hard for me to know that I'm the reason we are spending so much money on wooden boxes with doors on them.
By the time we left, I was so frustrated and depressed that I told Sam I didn't want to move anymore. After talking to my mom, she challenged me to just enjoy this process. We are getting a new house and I'm am too fearful over money to even enjoy this gift. I would love a gorgeous kitchen with all of the latest technology and innovations. But I love being able to buy groceries and having money in our savings account even more. However, I'm learning that I can tend to make money my savior. I want it there to bring me a sense of security and safety. I'm not saying that I should be unwise with our finances but maybe I need to learn to trust God more. For all I know, we could be completely destitute in four months or we could go through our lives without every coming up against a big financial crisis. The point is that I don't know what the future holds but I'm hoping that I can learn to put my trust in God rather than in my savings account. And that I can maybe enjoy my new kitchen.

photo by: paul malon  http://www.flickr.com/photos/paulmalon/5158179352/