Month: August 2007

Last night I informed my two sons that they would need to clean up their room again. Link objected on the grounds that they had cleaned it only that morning. I pointed out that since morning they had played games and left toys strewn over the floor. I further pointed out that if kids just cleaned up when they were done, none of the rooms would ever be a mess and we would not have to have enforced cleaning times. This was not a unique conversation. I’ve tried to teach this concept repeatedly, but apparently the concept never clicked for Link before. This morning he got up and before I was even awake he picked up his room, his sister’s room, and the entire family room. I woke up to a gloriously clean house. Link was much hugged and praised for this event. He even got to take his money and go shopping with his dad.

I have no illusion that this behavior will continue indefinitely. But I’m so glad that I had a chance to praise Link. Lately most of our interactions have been negative, me trying to enforce bedtime or clean up time. And if nothing else I am now armed with this experience. At a future date I can remind him of this time when he cleaned everything up all by himself and how good it felt.

It is a bad habit in our house. Whenever we open a package or a letter or a food item, we hold onto the contents and drop the packaging on the counter. In some cases this makes sense, for example while cooking a meal we need to move quickly to get all the steps done. But then we don’t go back and pick up the garbage. Often these little peices of detritus are small. Those plastic things you tear off of milk jugs to open them. Little packets of Splenda. Twist ties from bread. Other times these things are larger. Cheese macaroni boxes. Tortilla bags. Envelopes. All of these things accumulate on our counters creating a feeling of chaos. When I want to clean up the kitchen, the first thing I do is grab a garbage bag and collect all the loose garbage from the counters. By the time I’m done the kitchen looks 50% better.

The puzzling thing is trying to figure out why we do it. I mean the garbage can is right there only three steps away. Is it really that hard to just drop that milk jug ring into the trash instead of on the counter? Apparently so, because we all do it. Howard and I and the kids are all guilty of this. It is a bad habit. Like any bad habit it will take a concerted effort to change it. Most of that effort will have to come from me. I’ll have to add “garbage police” to my roll call of jobs. I know I can do the job of garbage policeman. The problem is being consistent about it. Some days I just don’t feel like picking a fight with my kids over garbage left on the counter. And I really can’t start policing anyone else until I’m no longer guilty. I suppose I could call a family meeting and make a pact with everyone policing each other. That could work. Particularly if there is some kind of motivational chart or prize. Hmm. More thought is required here.

Fourteen years ago today I got married.  Howard often jokes that he had to talk me into it, and he did sort of.  I was bewildered at how easily Howard sailed into my life and changed the shape of it forever.  I was no longer me by myself, I was part of We. 

August 5 1993 We don’t look exactly like this anymore, but the smiles are still the same.

Periodically either Howard or I have a breakdown of sorts and we end up tearfully asking the question “Why on earth do you put up with me?”  When I am the one asking, Howard doesn’t even pause for though before he rattles off a list of things about me that he can’t do without.  He tells me I’m wonderful and does it in a way that I have to believe him.  Why do I put up with him?  Because he doesn’t have to pause to think for an answer to that question and because he keeps listing things until I feel better.

I am not the person I was when Howard and I met.  We have grown into each other and taken on some of each other’s attributes.  Howard taught me how to be aggressive and handle confrontations.  Early in our marriage I just handed off all of those to him, but over the years I’ve watched him and learned.  Now I can handle anything from asserting about a billing mistake to telling a family member a necessary but unpleasant truth.  Howard’s self assurance was something I admired and over the years I’ve managed to make some of it my own.  I love Howard’s ambition.  He is never content unless he is reaching for a goal or pursuing a project.  I love that and I do all I can to help his dreams come true.  I can throw myself 100% behind his endeavors because I know without a doubt that he will abandon those dreams should I or the family need him to do so.  I can not count the number of times that he has dropped everything to come to my rescue.  The rescues have varied in scope from small to huge, but he was there for me when I needed him most.

I love that anytime I come to Howard with an interest or hobby or dream that I want to pursue, he supports me 100% in whatever decision I make.  At every turn, in every conversation, he affirms his belief in my intelligence and capability.  At times when we disagree about a course of action, he never impliesthat my preference is stupid or lesser. 

I love that he makes me laugh and that he laughs for me.  I love all the stupid running jokes that we have which evolve over months or years of interactions.  I love how he deliberately builds such jokes with the kids.  I love that he makes me laugh even when I’m in tears over the tragedy of the day.

I love watching Howard as a father.  I love the very different relationships he has constructed with each of the kids.  I love the silly games they play together.  I love how when I’m at my wits end trying to manage four kids, Howard steps in and backs me up with his big Daddy voice.  I love the times he shushes the kids so that I can take a nap.  I love the times when he assigns work to kids so that I won’t have to.  I love having a tag-team partner in managing kids.

Why do I put up with him?  Because he has grown to be so much a part of myself that I couldn’t remove him without ripping all that I am apart and building it new.  Because I am stronger, surer, better than I could be without him.  Because he sees the good in me when I can’t.  Because 14 years ago I promised to be with him forever and it was the best decision I’ve ever made.

Gah. I think that my latest short story idea may actually be a novel. No matter how I twist and turn and try to compress I can’t make it fit into a short story format without spending pages telling about backstory. I can’t fill a story with all that telling. Not when taking the time to show would make it all so much more compelling.

But I’m not ready to do a novel. I’m not supposed to be doing novels yet. I have too many other things in my life to give space to a novel. … but I think this story is a novel and it won’t leave me alone. I’ve never written a novel before. I don’t count the ones that I started and never finished when I was in my teens. They were more pretending-on-paper than true novel writing.

I’ve got outlines done for plot and for character arcs. Scenes are starting to form in my head. But the very size of it is daunting. To finish a novel will require so much effort and it will be spread out over a long period of time because I have priorities that come before writing. I’ll probably start with the scenes that are ready to go. Maybe when they’re done some of the inbetween scenes will come to me. That’s the way my friend Janci writes and she’s written five novels so far. I’ve no idea how long this thing will be or how saleable it will be. It may only be a novella. But I have to give it the space it needs to be whatever it will be.

But…but…I was going to write short stories. They were small and nice. I could finish them and move on inside a month. I’ll still write some of them. A novel is so big that it will require breaks.

Sigh. I’m supposed to be refocusing on family and schedule right now. I’m supposed to be planning a family reunion.

I have too many things in my brain. I’m hoping that if I dump them all out, I’ll be better able to sort them.

I got a lot of responses to the gatherer/farmer post on writing. It interests me greatly that everyone who responded said “I’m totally a gatherer.” Supposedly the world is primarily filled with farmers, but I sure can’t tell by looking at the people I hang out with. Perhaps the hunters and gatherers accumulate in the eddies on the edges of a vast river of farmers. Or perhaps hunters and gatherers are about 50% of the population and it is just our society that is set up as a farmer’s world. I’m not sure which it is, but hopefully now that I’ve written it down my brain will be able to let it go so that I can concentrate on other things.

I watched a lot of movies while Howard was gone. The ones I’m gladdest about are Good Will Hunting, About A Boy, and Stranger Than Fiction. I really liked them. I highly recommend them all, but be aware that Good Will Hunting is heavy on language and crude jokes. They’re important characterwise, but be forewarned. About A Boy was marketed as a romantic comedy, but it isn’t. The movie focuses on relationships, but most of the relationships are not romantic. Even better, lying does not win the girl. Yay. Stranger Than Fiction I had seen before. I enjoyed it even more the second time through because I did not have to feel tense and I could see all the pieces that would come together in the end. This is not a typical Will Ferrell movie. He gets to do real acting instead of just acting stupid or silly. I never liked Will Ferrell before seeing this film. Elizabethtown was interesting, but it felt incomplete. There were many fascinating threads, but none of them arrived anywhere concrete. Real Women Have Curves had good potential, but the protagonist does not have a character arc. She drifts through the film without changing much. The cultural clashes were interesting though. Love’s Labour Lost is Shakespeare set in WWII and turned into a musical. It was deliberately cheesy. The cheesiness of it made me laugh with delight. And I loved the bright colors and the songs and dances. I need to watch some more musicals. I love them, but the problem is that I’ve already seen the best ones. That leaves me either re-watching over-familiar material or watching bad ones. Sigh. Bride and Prejudice and Bend It Like Beckham both offered a fascinating glimpse into the culture of India. I love the traditional clothing styles of India and their art fascinates me. Bride and Prejudice isn’t meant to be serious, just fun. Bend It Like Beckam was fascinating in trying to show the conflict between traditional cultures and the modern world. I wanted to react to each of these movies individually. I’ve got half-composed blog entries about them floating in my brain. I’m dumping these incomplete blogs. For now this will have to suffice. Perhaps later something else will come up that will connect back to one of these movies and I’ll write the blogs then. I can’t keep holding onto the half-composed stuff. I need the brainspace.

Through experimentation I have determined fairly certainly that Patches is lactose intolerant. I think Gleek is as well although I’m less certain about her. This complicates cooking because our family has always relied heavily on dairy. I love cheese. I have not yet wrapped my head around the ways that I need to change the family diet to accomodate for this. Instead I bought a big box of lactase pills to give to the kids to help them digest. Fortunately this is not life threatening or damaging in any way. If the kids get dairy while I’m not looking, they have gas, diarhea, and feel ill. They’re better after a few hours. I’m going to have to pack lunches for school instead of letting the kids buy lunch. Sigh. And I really need to get back into cooking healthy meals regularly. This requires preplanning and focus. Those things are easier to come by when our family has a regular schedule. Kiki has been sleeping at odd hours. Link was complaining that he always has to fix his own food. Gleek has been running hyper from friend to friend barely touching down at home in between. Patches is suffering from a lack of quiet time. They all need me to be more focused. They need me to provide a schedule for them because they aren’t good at providing schedules for themselves. Unfortunately neither am I. Daily schedule is a farmer thing. Anyway I need to take Gleek and Patches to the doctor to discuss lactose intolerance and to figure out if there is anything else I need to be doing to help them manage it. While I’m there I should probably mention that Link guzzles milk in the afternoons and evenings. He does this so consistently that I’m wondering if the medication he is on for ADD leaches calcium or some other nutrient out of his system. Perhaps I’ll even mention Kiki’s wonky sleep schedule to the doctor. She seems to be sleeping far more than she should be for her age. Maybe she is just growing. Maybe it just seems that way because she is sleeping and tired at odd hours.

School starts in three weeks. I’ve no clue who the kids will have for teachers. I know who I want for them, but if they don’t get the teachers I’m hoping for, I don’t know if I’ll kick up a fuss or not. I’m worried about Gleek transistioning into First Grade. So is she. It has featured in her bedtime prayers lately. The beginning of Kindergarten was so rough for her. Kiki will be starting Junior High. This isn’t just new for her, but for me as well. I’ve got a whole new set of administrators and systems to deal with. I don’t know how Junior High works, how to make sure she is properly registered, how the bussing works, how to pay fees, etc. I’m sure none of it is very complicated, but I haven’t figured it out yet and so it looms. Patches starts preschool too. I wonder how that will go. I haven’t done any school preparation and I don’t have time or energy for it until next week at the soonest.

It feels better to get all this stuff out where I can see it. I think I’m done now.

Change is in the air. Finally after nearly a month of uber-hot weather, we finally have clouds and occasional showers. This is the beginnings of Fall. There are other signs as well. I’ve started recieving correspondance from the schools. They’ve begun informing me exactly how many fees I’ll be required to pay so that my child can have a locker and books for her middle school experience. We are definitely on the last slippery slope of summer, sliding toward back-to-school night. In response, I’ve started getting out of bed before 8 am. That has been nigh impossible all summer. Why bother to rush out of bed if there is nowhere in particular to go? But now I do have places to go and things to do. It feels good.

However before I can get up a good head of steam on fretting over school, I have to pull off a family reunion. It is next weekend and I am in charge. It will all go just fine and the only one who will hold me responsible for difficulties will be me, but that doesn’t stop me from fretting a little. I’m good at fretting. If I get it all done ahead of time, then I can enjoy the actual event much more.

I got up this morning and could tell that it was going to be a really good day. Thus far the prediction has been accurate.

I made breakfast for myself and the kids. Breakfast included bacon. Yum.

I started loads of dishes and of laundry.

Then I sat down with the telephone and called customer support for the Point of Sale software. I spilled the whole story to the nice tech guy on the other end. He couldn’t help me with the laptop hardware problem. Unfortunately neither could the USB/ethernet adapter I tried last night. He confirmed that the Point of Sale software will not work on Windows 98. If I want to use that machine, I’ll have to upgrade it. However he assured me that once I got the laptops sorted out, setting up software would be easy. Instead we set up the software on my desktop so that I could complete the credit card transactions. This was the critical task and it is now DONE. Whew. I can now take my time to sort out the issues with the laptops or strong arm tech friends to sort it out for me.

I then made lunch and switched laundry loads.

Now I am preparing for another long stint at my computer while I do the routine weekly accounting. This is a chore, but it shouldn’t have any nasty surprises in store.