I need baby gates…lots and lots of baby gates. And I need a vacation, a gallon of margaritas, a maid, a moisturizer that won’t make me break out, a new pair of Birkenstocks, a ceiling fan for Bean’s room and a pile of tiramisu from Pasta Pompodoro.
But, the baby gates are key…Bean is tearing our house apart and will put anything in her mouth…even if it’s still moving. So, yeah, send baby gates stat.
The past few weeks around here have been hell on wheels. Bean is one continuous teething monster of terror, and every day we hold our breaths waiting for the insanity to pass. The older Heathens had school testing, which is enough to make anyone neurotic, and now that it’s over, we have all those end-of-the-year projects to tackle, not to mention the state Social Studies Fair looming (dang over-achieving kids…grumble, grumble).
To make matters worse, my laptop contracted a catastrophic virus which required an entire weekend of saving what we could, then wiping and reinstalling every damn thing on it. (Object lesson of the day: do not let your antivirus subscription lapse…you’ll pay dearly, my friends)
My impromptu “hey, maybe I can earn some extra money by going freelance” idea is going better than I expected. I’m not rolling in the Benjamin’s or anything, but if I keep at it, we may clear enough to keep the Heathens in their good school for another year. The downside, I’ve learned, is that if you want to work from home, you actually have to work. Balancing my stay-at-home-mom responsibilities with my writing/earn money/learn-the-concept-of-savings ambition has been rough. Mostly, I’ve learned that everything takes longer than I initially thought it would, and time management skills are not my strong suit.
In the midst of all this chaos, we did have some bright spots. We’ve had a few family get-togethers, including an epic round of Clue at my sister’s house, which reminded us why classic games remain classics for a reason. We also hit the lake for a few hours of unplugged family time, and it was a welcome relief from the hectic mess we’ve been living in lately.
Hopefully, the rollercoaster we’re on will even out soon. If not, I’ll need a lot more booze.
And maybe some chocolate.
But mostly, just the booze, please.
So, I have a knife problem. Other than a giant knife block of my fancy-schmancy knives, I also have several miscellaneous knives floating around my kitchen that I refuse to part with. A while ago, I posted about this magnetic strip, which I like, and seemed to be a great solution for us. However, that little strip has become a big problem. You see, my tiny kitchen has one really great feature about the walls: awesome subway tile, straight to the ceiling.
And I love that tile. The magnetic strip is supposed to be screwed into the wall, but I absolutely will not try to screw into the tile. When I first got the magnetic strip, I resolved the issue by mounting it with Command adhesive picture-hanging strips (which, by the way is NOT a recommended use for that product).
Three years and three brutally hot Louisiana summers later, the adhesive solution is failing big-time. The magnetic strip randomly falls off the wall, turning it into a deadly projectile. Now that Bean is crawling around, I can’t have knife bombs falling from the sky. That would be bad.
A friend of mind heard my plight and sent me a little surprise gift:
This is the Knife Dock. It fits in the kitchen drawer and will hold knives of all different sizes, in any arrangement I want.
(yep, I had to play with it for a minute)
And just like that, the knife-bomb problem was solved. I’m able to keep the knives easily accessible, arrange them exactly how I like and I don’t have to worry about them getting damaged from floating loosely around the drawer. Apparently, Knife Dock also makes a larger, deluxe model, and I may just consider getting that one too, and evicting the knife block off the counter.
If only storing the Heathens’ tsunami of toys was so easy…
We’ve had a very eventful few weeks, and I’m finally pausing to catch my breath. We took a trip to Dallas for Bear’s 9th birthday, and it was two of the busiest days we’ve had in a long time. Since we rarely have the time or funds to travel, I always tend to overdo it when we do skip town. I feel like I have to cram as much into our vacation time as I possibly can, and I probably end up more tired and neurotic than when we left. But, that’s okay by me, if it means the Heathens get to explore something new. Culture is a good thing, ya know.
We managed to swing this trip by using our accumulated travel rewards to score a free hotel room, and I learned you can save a bundle on venue tickets if you buy them early.
We started at the Perot Science and Nature Museum, which was absolutely fabulous, even if it was a little too crowded for me. It was very hands-on and kid friendly, and I could have spent all day there.
We spent several hours exploring and I still feel like we didn’t get to fully see and enjoy a good portion of the museum. If I had the money, it would have been worth it to purchase a “membership,” because members can enter the museum a couple of hours before the actual opening time, and I bet we would have enjoyed the smaller crowds. Still, that was an outing that was just as much fun for my husband and I as it was for the kids. After the museum, and a dip in the indoor pool at the hotel, we headed to dinner. And ate. And then we ate some more. And maybe had a cocktail, but that’s beside the point.
The next day, we went to Legoland and Rainforest Café, and though the kids had fun, that won’t be something we’ll ever do again. Legoland was fine, but honestly, it’s more for 4-7 year-olds. We had about all the fun we could have there within an hour, and that didn’t justify the high price tag. As for the café, again, the extremely high price for mediocre food was painful. And I’m not a fan of the marketing ploy that required us to walk through a veritable toy store just to get to the restaurant’s entrance. Still, the kids had great time, so in the end, that’s what matters. However, my husband and I agreed that from here on out, if the vacation is kid-centric, we get to pick where we eat. That’s what you call compromise, right there.
Once we got home from the trip, I started kicking around the idea of doing a little freelance writing. The boys’ tuition is a painful, painful thing, and I’m hoping to alleviate some of the burden if I can. The good news is that I landed a couple of great clients right off the bat, but since then, I’ve spent every spare moment either writing, or juggling a demonic Bean. She has a big new front tooth, and the oh-so-pleasant disposition to match.
Be afraid…be very afraid…
Though I’ve been steeped in denial for weeks, and hoping if I ignored it, it would go away, Bean’s first birthday arrived. I’m not ready for her to be a year old. Not one bit. I understand that my alarming level of depression is completely disproportionate to the situation, but even the thought of her first birthday has been enough to send me into tears. Why? Because I swear it was just yesterday that she was this:
And now she is this:
But, despite her pesky tendency to grow up too fast, my Bean is still perfect, just the way she is.
Than to set Bean next to a pile of clean, folded laundry while I answered the phone. Didn’t I learn my lesson last time?
She abhors anything that is stacked or organized. She must create disarray where she perceives order. She thunders through my house like Godzilla, and the rest of us are the citizens of Tokyo. It’s chaos!
“Hooray! Fold it again! Fold it again!”
“This is the best game EVER!”
If only she would use her powers for good…
With summer coming, I’ve started compiling a list of ideas that I can use to keep all my Heathens occupied. Over the past several months, I’ve struggled with the realization that I have two kids who are overly attached to all things electronic, and I only have myself to blame (Bean’s too young, so she gets a temporary pass from this discussion). In my defense, I really thought I was doing well with finding a balance; my kids don’t have cell phones (nor will they any time soon), they aren’t allowed to use the internet without permission or supervision, and their video games are (mostly) age-appropriate. But, I recently realized that I spend entirely too much time in my day refereeing which child gets the computer, watching their time on it and saying no to the endless requests for new games. Even more disconcerting was the realization that every single conversation they start has to do with a video game…every single one. My boys could play video games 24/7 if we let them. I’ve reached a point that I never thought I would: I have failed to maintain the balance that I thought would be so easy to regulate.
Don’t get me wrong, I’m not going all “anti-technology.” Video games aside, our kids will need a degree of electronic aptitude to be successful in whatever their future careers may be. To deny this fact would be to stick my head in the sand. However, not too long ago, my husband and I got into a discussion about all of the practical know-how that, not only are we lacking, but we are also failing to teach our kids. It certainly got me thinking.
Just last week, when we realized that the ceiling fan in Bean’s room finally died, my husband looked at me like I was insane for suggesting that we figure out how to install a new one ourselves, rather than paying someone money we don’t have to do it. I’m embarrassed to admit that, other than a few plants, I cannot tell one tree, flower or bush from another. That’s kind of pathetic considering that I come from an extended family of master gardeners. I grew up with a mom who had her own restaurant and catering business, but when I left for college, I couldn’t even cook rice without calling home for help. Other than changing a tire, my husband can’t tell you the first thing about cars, despite the fact that his dad is a mechanic.
The few practical skills I do have, I learned by seeing and doing. For example, after the fourth time my teenage self called my parents because I had a flat tire, they told me unceremoniously that I had a manual, a tire iron and a jack, and to figure it out for myself. I may have spent the next hour swearing up a storm in my high school parking lot, but to this day, I can change my own tire. My father made me open my first bank account when I was twelve and instilled in me lessons about finance that carried us through the most meager of times. I grew up watching my mom figure out how to do things for herself, from drywall to refinishing furniture, because if she didn’t do it, it just wasn’t going to get done.
I have spent a good portion of my adult life trying to teach myself practical skills that I wish I had learned earlier. During most of my college years and early marriage, I painstakingly learned to cook more than macaroni and cheese. Sadly, we wasted money on many pairs of new pants for my husband before I figured out that a five-minute hem repair would have saved most of the old ones. I continue to struggle with sewing, and will probably tackle my first project with a pattern next week. From canning to gardening, knitting to basic home improvement, I always circle back to the fact that I would have benefitted by paying more attention to real life as a child/teen, instead of the hours I spent on the phone, gossiping with my friends.
So, what does this have to do with the Heathens? Well, I’m hoping that, with a proactive plan, I can shift some of their focus away from the siren’s call of the computer screen. I want to teach them how to do things that are infinitely more valuable than beating the last level of Plants vs. Zombies. When my children are grown, I want them to have a can-do mentality, or at least a “bet-I-can-figure-it-out” mentality. Mostly, I feel a deep need that all of us need to spend a few more hours a week “checking in” to real life, instead of checking out in front of a screen. The computer itself is not the problem; after all, even Cookie Monster now knows that cookies are fine in moderation, and the internet can be a great resource for “how do I do that?” The problem is me. I’ve been too inconsistent with limits, too quick to let things slide, and too impatient to slow down and teach my kids. When life goes off the rails, it’s easy to let the computer keep the peace.
So, my goal for this summer is to work on developing kids that can do. By August, I want them to be able to list all the new things that they learned, things that have nothing to do with a video game. After all, do you think anyone is going to look back on their life and think, “hot damn, I really wish I had spent more time playing Minecraft?” Nope, I don’t think so either. Now, if I can just figure out how to swing this plan without being the meanest mom ever. Ideas?
