Month: November 2006

Gleek came home with a book order today. As we drove home she was exclaiming over what she found in it. “Oh! Oh! Oh! A princess one! And another princess one! And another princess one! And a Pony one!! I think I should save this page. It is full of pretty things. Oh Pokemon!” She continued in this vein until we arrived at home. Once at home she had to demonstrate a song which combined nonsense words with sticking up her thumbs, putting her feet apart, knees together, closing her eyes, sticking out her tongue and turning in a circle. Ah the joys of Kindergarten.

Note to pediatric ophthalmologists: Even if a child has nothing physically wrong with her eyes, don’t call her complaints of blurry vision a behavior problem and proceed to dispense parenting advice. You are an eye doctor, not a psychologist. You do not know my child. You did not listen to my description of when and where the incidents occurred. She is not lying about her vision in order to get glasses. Yes she wants glasses now that she is in your office with all the shiny displays, but last week she hadn’t even considered the possibility and she was complaining then. Also, pissing off the mother of a patient is a sure way to make sure that you never have that person for a patient again.

I cleaned out my van today. I removed two bags of garbage, one bag of clothing, one bag of toys, 6 books, 1 pair of shoes, two backpacks, and four pairs of head phones. Now I can actually see how gross the floor of the van is. Tomorrow I’ll take it to the car wash and vacuum it out.

Maple trees drop oodles of leaves. We had a pile big enough for four kids to play in simultaneously. They were happy.

I need to remember that yardwork, while still work, is happy work for me. I need to spend more time outdoors.

On Saturday I received a letter about an incorrectly filed employer’s tax form for the year 2005. 2005 was the first year that I’ve run a payroll, so it seemed completely believable that I’d made a mistake. However it was daunting to contemplate the possibility that I may have carried that mistake through 11 months of 2006 as well. I set the letter aside resolving to research the problem first thing Monday morning. I didn’t pick the letter back up until about an hour ago. I waded through the two pages of small print to try to figure out exactly what the objection was. I discovered that I’d failed to file a state witholding form. It was in the booklet they’d thoughtfully provided, hidden behind some other pages. Filling out the form took all of 5 minutes. It is reassuring to me that I was able to resolve the issue so quickly because it means that I’m probably doing everything right. Yay!

I like having our storefront. I like the fact that we can manage credit card orders ourselves without having to go through a service such as Paypal. I like that we have a shopping cart so that customers can customize their orders. Unfortunately this shopping cart software is not really set up for a big mailing like our preorders for Blackness Between. It simply can’t do some of the sorting and managing necessary for processing a thousand orders all at once. 10 months out of the year this software will meet our needs, but on preorder months there will be gaps between what the software can supply and what we need it to do. This month I solved the problem of that gap by throwing myself in it. I am manually sorting over 1000 invoices according to shipping choices and contents. I’m also manually manipulating shipping information to create address labels. Then I am matching address labels to invoices. Then I have to print postage appropriate to the various stacks of invoices. Once books arrive we’ll take those stacks of invoices with matching labels and postage and assemble them all together for mailing.

Each of those steps introduces the possibility of human error. Thus far I have made myself comfortable that no errors have crept in because I’m doing it all myself. But I’m human too. And there are only so many hours in the day for me to accomplish things. So I have to ask myself if I am retaining jobs that I ought to be delegating? I suspect that I am. Perhaps I need to hire my own children to help me do some of the sorting and printing. We’ve already lined up volunteers to help with the assembly and mailing. Perhaps by the next time we have to manage a large preorder we’ll be financially solvent enough that I can hire other help. For now, I’m happy in the knowledge that I only have to cover the gap for nine more days.

One of my biggest problems during recovery from an illness is trying to accurately gage my energy reserves. I try to go slow. I try to eliminate unnecessary tasks. But then I find myself faced with a task and I have nothing left to give. This happened today in a big way.

I was fine at 5 pm when Howard called from Dragon’s Keep to see how I was doing. I cheerfully told him to stay and finish the piece he was working on. At 5 pm I was curled up on the couch doing a sudoku puzzle while kids watched a movie downstairs. There was even a pot of homemade soup on the stove that was destined for dinner.

Then the kids all griped about having to eat soup. Gleek didn’t just gripe. She announced her total and complete hatred of soup. I tried to be firm, she got more adamant. I tried to be sneaky asking if she thought she could hate every last bite of soup while she ate it, she saw through my ruse. Bit by bit I coaxed Gleek into sitting at the table in front of the despised soup. I called the other kids to the table. Kiki announced she wasn’t hungry because she’d fixed herself ramen noodles only 40 minutes earlier. Link complained that the soup had gotten cold. I reached for my reserve of patience…and there wasn’t one. I then treated my four wide-eyed children to a harangue. I declared in resonant tones that I hate cooking. I hate it, yet I have to do it three times a day. And every single time I get complaints. No one ever likes anything I make. I never get thanked. And yet I still cook. (Obviously my children have learned hyperbole from me.)

They all began to put spoonfuls into their mouths. Then Gleek bit down on her canker sore. She shrieked. Another bite of soup, another shriek. Part of me felt sorry for her, she was honestly hungry, she’d decided to eat the hated soup, but every bite was painful. Unfortunately a larger part of me just wanted the shrieks to stop. In an attempt to not be mean to my kids I retreated into Sudoku land. Soup didn’t get eaten. Gleek came and demanded a turn with the DS on which I was doing Sudoku. Kiki wanted help with spelling. Link quietly read his required reading and went off to play. I relinquished the DS to Gleek, handed Patches some paper for drawing and sat to help Kiki.

Only I discovered that Kiki also needed help with last month’s reading log. She’d spent the entire month of October pulling time and page numbers out of a hat and now had to try to make these creative numbers match reality. I was very much in “one problem at a time” mode and so growled at anything which interrupted this tangled task. By the time that log was sorted, I had both Gleek and Patches pulling on sections of my clothing and demanding food. They were hungry after all of that failure to eat dinner. Go figure.

(In hindsight, this would have been a good time to call Howard and ask him to come home. But I was so focused on whichever minor crisis that was in front of me, that the thought never even crossed my mind.)

I did not want to re-open the incident of soup, so I acceded to Gleek’s request for oatmeal. She gobbled it carefully with only a few pauses for crying because of canker sore pain. Then I scooped her up and plunked her into her bed. It was an hour early, but I was done trying to manage her for the day and she was certainly cranky enough that the extra sleep couldn’t hurt any. “Scoop and plunk” makes it sound so simple. I wish. First there is the coaxing to get her into bed. Then there is the getting out of bed to go potty. Then there is the coaxing to get her back into bed. Then there is the application of cream to a rash. Then there is the being called back into the room 4 times for “one more thing.”

With Gleek in bed, I tackled Patches. I scooped him and carried him to his room. He’d done his share of crying and shrieking during the day. In fact on the way up the stairs he declared his intention to sleep in my bed. I’m trying to get him to sleep in his own bed all night. I was very focused on getting him into bed, his bed, so I flat denied that he could sleep in my bed. It was a tactical error, low energy night is not the night to make a stand on a relatively unimportant issue. I can only ascribe it to my hyper focus. He shrieked. Once again my reserves were gone. I could not deal with the shrieking. I could not deal with the fact that Gleek chose that moment to call out for me. I growled an incoherent growl at Patches, plopped him into his bed, then walked out and slammed the door behind me. I continued into my room and slammed that door too. Then I flopped onto my bed and tried to remember where I’d put the nice mommy side of me.

I lay there face down and listened to Patches crying. I thought about how he has been whinier lately and clingier. I’ve hypothesized that this is because I’ve been so much busier and crankier due to stress. I’ve also hypothesized about the stresses caused by his continuing struggles with toilet training. He honestly feels ashamed of his accidents, but hasn’t a clue how to make them stop. I don’t either, I wish I did. I listened to my boy cry and I knew that he needed me to be kind, loving, reassuring, and patient. I listened to him cry and thought all of those thoughts and just hoped that he’d stop crying and fall asleep so that I didn’t have to deal with it anymore today.

Patches did stop crying, but since the quiet was accompanied by the sound of his door opening, I was fairly certain that my wish had not been granted. At least he was being quiet now. Gleek called for me. I didn’t respond. Then my mind wandered back to Kiki’s reading log. At the end of each week she was supposed to have the log checked by an adult and initialed that it was accurate. She had initials on all of those weeks, only I hadn’t signed it. She confessed to signing it for me. I lay there and realized that I need to make clear that signing it for me is not acceptable, that if she does it again I’ll have to go to her teacher and ask that the score be adjusted. I had this thought and I knew that if I didn’t go say it right then, I would probably forget to say it until after some other crisis. So I hauled myself out of bed and back to the Kitchen to undertake yet another unpleasant task.

The kitchen looked different than I had left it, cleaner. Kiki was standing in the middle of it clearing the counter. Kiki then confessed that she was cleaning up the kitchen so that she could make cookies for me. She said “Mom I don’t care if I get Fs on my homework. The most important thing in the world is a happy mom. I just want to make you smile again. You go back to bed and I’ll take care of the rest of the evening.” Wow. I thought I was good at guilt trips. I broke down in tears. She hugged me lots. Then the two of us cleaned the kitchen together and she made cookies. So here I am sitting at my computer, cookies and milk next to me, and listening to Patches, Kiki, and Link playing happily in the next room. I still have to put them all to bed, but my reserves are refilled courtesy of my wonderful daughter.

Apparently pomegranates are one of nature’s laxatives. I wish I’d known that before I allowed my four kids to split an entire pomegranate between them.

’nuff said.

I got to be the sick one today. Although fortunately I got off very lightly compared to anyone else. I never actually vomited. I suspect some of that may be due to the vomit-avoidance training I had during the morning-sick period of four pregnancies. I’m still tired and achy. All day I’ve just wanted to curl up in a comfy ball. Fortunately Howard the wonderful allowed me to do just that for several hours. Hopefully tomorrow I will feel better because I have many many things to do.

Gleek has blankies. She has had blankies ever since she was 9 months old and began carrying around the pink thermal receiving blanket that we recieved as a gift. Being foresighted and intelligent, I bought several more of exactly the same type. That way we had 4 blankies and I could wash some while she carried others. Then I noticed that she was carrying her blankie around by the satin tag. That one spot on the blankie was getting dirty and I could tell it would wear out fast. So I cut off the tag and sewed four pink satin ribbons on to the corners of each of her blankies. Then she had lots of ribbons to rub against her face while she snuggled. All was well. The blankets were dragged, spilled upon, vomited upon, left outside, and generally mistreated for years. When Gleek was almost 3 I noticed that all of the blankies were showing signs of serious wear. Gleek was still extremely dependent upon them. So I bought 3 new pink thermal blankies and sewed new ribbons onto the corners. Gleek happily adopted these new blankets and cheerfully let me get rid of the battered ones.

That was two years ago. The “new” blankies have been dragged, spilled upon, vomited upon, bled upon, left outside, used as capes, used as bags, and generally mistreated. They are faded and fraying. Gleek still sleeps with them every night. She is smart enough now to know that there are three and if at all possible will carry around all three of them simultaneously. This means I can’t always have one clean, but it triples the likely hood of being able to find one at bedtime. Gleek has grown up some too. We no longer take blankies to church, friends’ houses, or school. She accepts that they are only for at home. I see no reason to deprive her of this small scrap of security before she is ready to abandon them herself. Especially since I regularly see how the possession of a blankie allows her to gain possession of herself and her feelings.

For years I’ve had a secret. See when I bought those three new blankets? I actually bought four blankets. The fourth one sat in the top of the closet for “just in case.” I’m not sure what the case was that I was waiting for. I think originally I was concerned about reducing the number of blankies from four to three. After that, I forgot it was there. Periodically I’d clean out that closet and find it. Every time I’d stare at it, consider getting rid of it, decide not to decide, and put it back.

Yesterday all four kids had a romping game of hide and seek all over the house. They had a blast. I was busy and not paying much attention until Gleek came down to me wide-eyed. She was holding a plastic package. She knew exactly what it was. It was a brand new vibrant pink version of the faded and worn blankies she carries around every day. She stared at me with wide, hopeful eyes. I opened the package and gave it to her to keep. Today she came down with stomach flu and one of the kind TLC things I did for her was to sew ribbons on the four corners of her new blankie. It looks so strange and bright bundled up in her arms with the worn out ones. It may be a tactical error. Now one of her blankies is obviously different than the others. I may have an upset Gleek demanding that I search the house for the NEW one. But She was so soft and sick today and she loves it so much. I’ll have to try to remember that if we ever come to a frantic search.

Howard came home from D&D day because he has the same stomach bug that Gleek has. And the relatives who were going to stay the night with us have opted to stay elsewhere, much to the disappointment of all my kids and all their kids.

My good day kind of fizzled into a blah day.

I had a plan for today. I was going to escape my house and my kids to go and be part of D&D day at Dragon’s Keep. I didn’t know if I was going to get to play, but I knew I’d get to hang out with gaming geeks including Howard. I was looking forward to it. I went to bed early last night so that I could breakfast the kids and make them get all their work done before I had to leave. The plan was working well. I was full of energy this morning. The kids were working. I was dancing around the kitchen and wiping counters. Every minute made the house cleaner. I was giving Kiki info so that she and her friend could babysit effectively while I was gone. I’d sent Gleek up to make her bed. I gradually became aware that rather than making her bed, she’d been lying still in it for about 45 minutes. Gleek lying still = sick. I was in denial and went along with the morning as planned. Then she threw up. I can’t leave a vomiting child to go play games. So my plans for today have been rearranged.

The good news is that all the other kids have each had a turn with this stomach bug, so this should be the last round for me. The other good news is that this time the child had only a few bites of pancake rather than a stomach full of Halloween candy. Kiki, kind soul that she is, still wants me to go. She wants me to be able to have fun. I think she also feels that being babysitter to an ill child would be an adventure of sorts. Unfortunately Dragon’s Keep is a full 20-30 minutes from my house. That means I’m not nearby in a crisis. I can’t go that far. However I will probably allow Kiki to have a babysitting adventure for a short time while I run a couple of errands.

I still intend to have a good day. I’m just not entirely sure what I’ll do to make it good. Having the house clean helps. Maybe I’ll haul out The Queen’s Necklace or Star Munchkin and make some of the kids play with me. We’ll see.

Last night I attended a Ballet class. I’ve been needing something for awhile. I wanted something physical that would get me out of the house and moving sans children. It was Howard’s game night, so I left Kiki in charge of the other three kids and went for a free trial class.

It was wonderful to get moving, but I wasn’t completely satisfied with the class. Part of the dissatisfaction was that I really wanted to learn the movements, but the class kept moving on too quickly for me. That could be alleviated by at home practice. Also, watching myself in the mirror, not so fun. I’m rounder than I should be and not very flexible. My mind kept supplying unflattering comparisons to the hippo ballet at the end of Disney’s Fantasia. Part of the point of taking a class is to motivate me to shape up and slim down, so I guess I should count that as a success for the class. The class never did get my heart pumping, so I didn’t get that post-exercise buzz. I think that is a result of the teacher having to switch between teaching basic steps and trying to get us moving. I’m not as stiff and sore as I expected to be today. Last night I was ready to try something else instead, like yoga maybe. I’m still going to do some free trials at other types of classes, but I’m not ready to completely give up on ballet yet. Particularly when I can just show up whenever I have time, and pay per class attended.

Upon my return home I learned that leaving Kiki in charge also had mixed results. Some of the relaxation of getting out is negated if I have to do emergency mopping when I return. BUT all the kids were alive and safe and lessons were learned, so no lasting harm done.