Month: December 2005

Yesterday afternoon, just after welcoming my neighbor’s toddler to be babysat for 2 hours, I had the alarming realization that what I thought was mild indigestion was actually something much worse. I was curl-up-on-the-couch sick. Howard had gone out to spend the afternoon at The Keep. I called him there. I wanted him to come home, but I also knew that he was getting work done and work being done is pretty important to our family. Howard’s husbandly senses were in good working order because he quickly determined that he was needed at home even though I tried not to outright say “Come home please.” I’m going to blame my illness for the unnecessary twistiness of that conversation.

Howard came home and sent me to bed. Usually I have a hard time turning off my Mommy Radar if I’m anywhere in the vicinity of my children. I was sick enough that it shut down of it’s own accord. In my lucid moments over the next few hours I listened to Howard manage upsets, fix dinner, hand the borrowed toddler back to his mom, and generally manage the children with no crises whatsoever. At bedtime he only needed minor instructions from me and handled all the rest of it himself. It all made me so happy that I wanted to cry. I was so happy because I was able to curl into a ball and ignore the world for 18 hours and know that my kids were still being well cared for. 14 months ago he could not have done it. Since he’s been working at home, Howard has learned the routines that I run and the kids have come to accept him as a caretaker. The fact that I could listen to minor conflicts without feeling like I needed to jump out of bed and mediate shows how I’ve come to trust him in that role.

But even more than that, what made me happy enough to cry was that the moment I really needed him Howard dropped everything and helped me. He’s done it before and I know he’ll do it again. I spend my days muddling along trying to keep everything running, but I know that when things fall apart Howard is there for me. It is a priceless gift that I can only repay by trying to be there for him in the same way.

The dragons that I made for the kids have been getting lots of use. Link informed me that he has given his dragon his own middle name. Link further informed me that this meant we have 10 family members, 6 humans and 4 dragons. After a moment he adjusted this count up to 11, because he couldn’t leave out Kiki’s lone surviving science project mealworm. Kiki heard this count and declared we must also inculde the pet hamster who escaped about a month ago. Kiki is convinced that this hamster is happily living in our walls and is therefore still a member of our family. So I guess we’ve got 12 “people” living here. I’m just glad that half of them don’t require much in the way of food. My grocery budget would be shot.

We spent less than $100 on Christmas this year. I’ve been gleaning things from garage sales and thrift stores and give aways all year so that I could pull that off. My mother also conspired with me to make sure that her gifts were things that the kids would love, but that we couldn’t afford to buy.

Last night I spread everything out and it looked skimpy and shabby to me. I was worried. Or at least part of me was worried, the other part was reassuring me that the kids would be happy. The other part was right. I am once again reminded that kids don’t care about “new” as much as parents might think. They care about fun. I picked things that they will enjoy greatly both today and throughout the next year.

It has been a good day. Now we are all tired out and I’m ready to put all the kids to bed. Sleeeep.

Four days to Christmas and school is out. The kids arrived home from school with enough candy to feed all the starving children in Africa. I was too tired to play sugar police and so they ate it all afternoon yesterday. Of course they were all so full of candy that none of them wanted to eat dinner. This morning I slept in and before I managed to make breakfast, they’d already dug into the remains of the stash. The result was a pile of untouched pancakes that sat on the table for hours before I cleared it away.

Fortunately the weather was beautiful today so I was able to shoo the children out into the backyard to run off their sugar buzzes. I was even able to sneak a nap on the couch while they were out. I’m still over tired from staying up too late every night for nearly two weeks. Howard and I binged on CSI every night almost as badly as the kids binged on their candy. But now the CSI is all finished and the candy is all consumed.

In theory this means a return to normality. Only we’re entering the anticipatory can’t-sleep phase of the Christmas season. Tomorrow, Friday, & Saturday all have events scheduled and Sunday is Christmas. I need to make sure everyone gets to bed on time tonight.

4 days to Christmas and I’m feeling pretty blah about the whole holiday thing. I didn’t do any shopping this year. Or rather I did it all last spring & summer when no one else was even thinking about Christmas yet. And even if they were thinking about Christmas, I don’t think that garage sales are really big on the holiday decorating thing. Christmas is supposed to be about gift giving in honor of the greatest of all gifts, but somehow it ended up being all about shopping. Since I’ve skipped out on shopping I’ve somehow also missed out on the anticipatory frenzy that enlivens this time of year.

Anticipation seems to be part of the glow of this season. As the mom I’m usually in on all the secrets. I helped wrap all those gifts under the tree, so I know what is in them all. It is entirely possible to have great anticipation about giving a gift you know will delight. I felt that way about the yummy expensive cheese that a schlocker conspired with me to get for Howard. But I was so excited about it that I gave it to him early. I claimed this was because I wanted it to stay fresh, but mostly it was because I knew he’d love it and I couldn’t wait to give it to him. In retrospect that may not have been wise because now I have nothing that I really look forward to giving. I guess I’ve been thinking about Christmas for so long that everything I’ve squirrelled way seems old and tired to me.

Hopefully this will turn around before Sunday. I actually rather expect it to, but this is in my head today.

Howard and I have had more than a dozen christmases in which to give each other gifts. Mostly the gifts were ordinary. They were things we were glad to have, but don’t really remember years later. A few gifts do stand out. One year Howard gave me a sewing machine and a serger and two tables for them out of a Christmas bonus that was much larger than he’d fessed up to. Another year Howard was drooling over a sword in a catalog without knowing that it was sitting under the christmas tree three feet away from him. I’d ordered it and managed to keep it secret.

I’m usually pretty good at knowing what Howard would like. I’m also pretty good at managing to get it under the tree without him suspecting. This year I know Howard’s heart’s desire exactly. Unfortunately it isn’t something I can wrap. Howard wants cartooning to pay enough money so that we can keep this lifestyle we’ve grown to love. That is the gift I wish I could give.

Movies, games, clothes, are all trinkets. None of that could compare with knowing that a year from now we’ll have started putting money back into savings instead of constantly pulling it out. If we continue pulling money out of savings at our current rate then it will all be gone before next Christmas. Sometimes I contemplate this and I am afraid, not that we’ll starve or lose the house, because Howard would give up cartooning before allowing that to happen, but that we’ll have to give up Howard working here at home doing work that he loves.

When I feel this fear I have to sit back and contemplate the events of the past 18 months. At the time Howard left Novell, we only had enough savings to carry us through 3 months. We knew that before he quit and we prayed and felt very sure that quitting was the right decision for our family. We stepped out in faith and through (non repeatable) circumstances that we could not have forseen we found ourselves a year later with 12 months of savings. I can only hope that next Christmas I’ll be able to look back and see yet another set of miracles. This last year of Howard being a cartoonist has been a gift. It seems greedy to want another gift just like it, but I do.

I watch Howard tweaking the advertising on the site trying to make more money come out. I watch him work, and stress, and be depressed. I wish I could give to him the assurance that it will all be alright. I do feel that it will be alright. Somehow despite everything I’m convinced that cartooning is still the best choice for our family. And somehow I believe that we will get that miracle that will let us continue. I just wish I could see how. And I wish I could wrap it and put it under the tree for him. That is the only gift I can think of that would make him as happy as he makes me every day just by being here.

I’m home now. Tired-beyond-crankiness Patches has been put to bed. Tired-to-hyperactivity Gleek has also been put to bed. Link & Kiki are still up because they’re being quiet and I’m not ready to fight another round of “Do I have to go to bed now? I’m hungry! I’m thirsty! Fill my waterbottle! Where’s my blanket? I want a story! The dark spots are scary!” So I am hiding here in my office hoping that journaling will grant me the fortitude to finish my parental duties for the evening.

Tonight was the Relief Society Christmas dinner. I was not in charge, I was a worker bee. For most of the evening I got to sit at a table with my two neighbors who are moving, and visit while eating a yummy dinner. That was really nice, I’m going to miss these neighbors. I hope the new ones will be as nice. The working part of the evening was setting up and arranging the Sharing Table. This is a table where women from the ward bring stuff they want to get rid of, and other women take what they want. It is like a yard sale where everything is free. At the end of the evening I scoop up everything is left and donate it to a local thrift store. Usually one table is sufficient. Tonight we needed three. They were fully loaded and then half emptied. The back end of my van is full of stuff. Helping set all the stuff out and then loading it all up at the end of the night represents about an hour’s work for me. But it is hauling and lifting work. I’m happy to donate that work because I love the fact that we’re able to share with others. More than once I have found a much needed item on the sharing table. In fact 90% of Patches wardrobe came from the sharing table.

My children run rampant while I’m setting up and taking down the tables. They can always sense when I’m too busy to make them behave themselves. Mostly they go up on the stage, turn on the multi-color spotlights and make rainbow shadows. Sometimes they run through the halls screaming at the top of thier lungs. Often they jump off of things. Sometimes they come and inspect the sharing table where they invariably find a treasure that they simply can’t live without. Sometimes they rescue items I placed on the table hoping it would go home with someone else. Tonight nothing was rescued, but Kiki came home with a large wicker basket and a clock. Gleek came home with a My Little Pony bank and a matching cup. Link acqured three chalk eggs which supposedly have rubber bugs inside them. Patches didn’t aquire anything, but threw several tantrums for which I was able to discern no cause other than him being over tired and over stimulated. Being in a childcare room with 25 other kids can be a bit much after awhile especially when you’ve skipped your nap.

I skipped my nap too. I don’t usually need naps. But for the past 3 nights I’ve been staying up for hours past my bedtime because Chalain & Chaliren loaned us CSI season 5. Howard and I know we should go to bed, but instead we talk each other into “just one more.” I intended to nap today, but the nap in the morning during NotMyBaby’s nap wasn’t long enough, and the afternoon failed to provide a good opportunity. I could fall asleep right now, but Howard will be home soon and there are still disks of CSI waiting.

Of course I can’t watch any CSI until after all the kids are in bed. I may be morbidy fascinated by the exploration of human depravity which CSI provides, but my kids would be terrified and nightmarified. This brings me back to where I began this post, enjoying the quiet and pretending that I don’t have two more kids to put to bed. Maybe they’ll be kind and co-operative. Not likely, but I can always dream.