Sandra Tayler

Today was the 13th anniversary of Howard and my wedding. In past years we’ve celebrated by saying “happy anniversary,” painting the house, or forgetting it completely. On our 10th anniversary Howard’s big gift to me was a mcgriddle. We just haven’t made a big deal out of the event. This year I wanted to do something. I wanted to go out on a date and spend time with just Howard. Our anniversary seemed like a good excuse to impose on a friend for free babysitting, so away we went.

Our budget has been very tight for the past two years. We have some more wiggle room now, but we still have to count pennies. We decided to splurge on a full price movie. We bought tickets early and had time to kill. Howard had noticed that the shirt I was wearing had a stain on it, (I meant to change, then forgot) so he sugguested that we wander into Sears and buy me a new shirt as a present. That shopping trip was a delight. Howard was focused on “get shirt for Sandra.” I was focused on savoring the experience of getting to select a brand new shirt for myself. It had to be a shirt I would love because I’d be paying an order of magnitude more money than I am accustomed to spend on any single item of clothing. Clearance racks give me sticker shock these days. Fortunately Howard was also focused on “make Sandra happy.” And I had a goal of “have fun with Howard.” So it worked out alright. We found a shirt I liked and then I was uncertain about and then liked. Howard was stable in his liking of it. We bought it and I changed into it. I’m still wearing it and I like it. We spent some of the rest of the evening laughing at each other for acting so typically male and female during the shopping trip. I don’t think we have ever gone clothes shopping together before and our different approaches and selections were amusing.

As an aside, I don’t know if there is any expression of love greater than a man volunteering to attend upon his wife while she browses through a women’s clothing section. I don’t think Howard realized what he was signing up for, but he never once complained. He teased me later. I teased him later. But He was honestly just glad to make me happy. It makes me sniffle to think of it.

We ate dinner at a mall chinese place. It was cheap, fast, close, and relatively yummy. I managed to not dribble anything on my new shirt. Then we watched Monster House. It seemed appropriate to watch a mildly spooky movie for a 13th anniversary. After the movie I didn’t feel quite ready to go home. Howard and I do lots of things together, but this evening had a real “date” feeling to it that I was loathe to relinquish. Going to movies together is a thing we occasionally do, but the focus is usually on the movie. We dash there and then dash home. Tonight the focus was on being together and it was wonderful. We stretched the evening just a little longer by stopping for ice cream.

Every penny we spent tonight fell under the category of “frivolous spending.” We didn’t need to see a movie, or eat out for dinner, or buy a shirt, or eat ice cream. But when I add it all up we spent less than $60. Was this evening worth $60 to me? Yes. Definitely. No doubt about it. Of course it has now whetted my appetite. I want to do more frivolous things. Some of them cost money, some of them don’t, but all of them make me feel care free and pretty and young. It’s nice to feel that way when the rest of my life is so stable and responsible and full of dishes and weeds.

I find myself staring at this blank space on the computer screen and wondering what I should write today. I could tell a tale of woe about how difficult Gleek has been to put to bed lately with specific details highlighting last night’s antics. Or I could write a frustrating saga of sisterly conflict between my two daughters. Or I could tell how for no apparent reason Kiki left off fighting with her sister and began cleaning up the house. Perhaps it has something to do with the long conversation Kiki shared with my friend and I. It wasn’t an important conversation, we just talked about boyfriends past and present and potentially future. Or, if I look at it a different way, the conversation was vital, because I got to pass on to Kiki information about boys and dating that she will someday use. In return I recieved the comforting information that she doesn’t feel ready to even start worrying about it yet. She’s happy to just stay doing kid stuff for awhile longer. So that was one of those important moments that seem insignificant. And hey look, clean house!

I could also ponder longwindedly about friendship. It is really nice to have the kind of friend who understands that I sometimes have to say something out loud, before I can figure out whether I really believe it or not. I love having a friend who is interested enough to challenge me into finding what I’m really trying to say. I love being that kind of friend and I think I need to work on being that friend to more people. It is as simple as an inquiring look and the question “Why?”

I could vent about the frustration I’m experiencing over my computers failing cooling fan. I’m now afraid to walk away from the computer and leave it running. This is a serious problem because when the children scream I don’t want to have to take the time to save things and shut down, because I know that sometimes it takes me hours to get back. I don’t want the fan to fail and my computer to burn out during my absense. Also I’m starting to feel like the computer is a limited resource that I should save for important business things rather than rambling in my journal. Only, my journal and my writing is important too. I don’t want to have to choose. I’ve begun developing a wistful list of ideal computer characteristics for that far off day when I can buy the computer I want, rather than inheriting one that someone else no longer needs. I think it will be a laptop. It has to have internet connectivity. I’d prefer wireless, but only if the connection is stable rather than requiring regular tweaking by Howard. It also needs to be able to connect to a printer, preferrably wirelessly. And I want it to have a drive that can play DVDs. In the meantime I’ll just make do with a new cooling fan as soon as Howard has the cycles to install it for me. I don’t really NEED a new computer. I just need the one I’ve got to not die.

I suppose I could tell about our trip to the Living Planet Aquarium. It really isn’t an aquarium yet. It is a preview of what the financeers are trying to get enough funding to build. Eventually Salt Lake City will have a real aquarium. For now they have some cool fish tanks inside a refurbished grocery store. I kept wondering where the shopping carts were hiding. The effect was particularly strong next to the lobster tank because we regularly go to a grocery store that sells live lobsters for cooking. The kids had fun. I’m glad we went. They all got to pet a stingray except Patches who wasn’t willing to get wet to do it. I tried to get creative with my camera and take some cool pictures. Instead I got a very clear picture of the limitations of my camera. I’d love to take gorgeous pictures like those I see in photoblogs, but I’m just not willing to spend the time or money right now.

School starts in 20 days. In theory now is the time for me to be readjusting sleep schedules. I’m trying. I really am. But the kids are not helping me in this project. Neither is the sun. It doesn’t go down early enough to trigger bedtime thoughts on schedule. The impending beginning of school also has me checking my mailbox regularly. Sometime in the next week I’ll be recieving letters telling me about my kid’s classroom assignments. I need to know who their teachers will be and, in the case of Gleek, what kindergarten schedule she will be placed on. Until I have that information I can’t make further plans for the fall schedule. In particular I can’t sign the kids up for the gymnastics and karate lessons that they want. At least this year I feel like I have the money necessary to fund those lessons. We couldn’t afford lessons for them last year. I have a whole slew of hopes and worries relating to the school assignments, but fretting will do me no good. So I wait for the letters to arrive and try to pretend that I’m not fretting.

Patterns matter more than incidents. That was said in a conversation today and I want to remember it. I need to remember it most on the days where I have big splashy failures. Today wasn’t one of those days. Today I was in good parenting form. But I’m not always in good form, so I need to remember. Patterns matter more than incidents.

And now I’m done for awhile.

Sooo… How panicked should I be that the high pitched whine of my aged computer has begun taking dips into lower and slower frequencies?

Sometimes I have to carefully and painstakingly teach things to my children. I have to be there at every step to encourage and insist. Other timess they learn all by themselves. All I have to do is get out of the way.

Today I took the training wheels off of Gleek’s bike. It was like freeing a bird. She was off and pedalling in mere minutes. She did not need me to steady her or encourage her. She just needed me to get those training wheels out of her way.

For now her flight is only figurative, but if next week she jumps off the house and soars to the clouds it would hardly surprise me. She is so amazing and fearless.

Several years ago the City of Orem decided that the street in our cul de sac needed preventative maintenance. Work crews came through and carefully sprayed all of the cracks with a tarry substance which supposedly extended the life of the street. My children have been fascinated with this street tar ever since. In the winter the stuff is hard and they pretty much leave it alone. In the heat of the summer this tar becomes…gooey. Gleek in particular has been attracted to this tar. She loves the feel of it under her bare feet. I don’t particularly like her walking around in the street and we’ve had many an arguement while each tried to assert her position. Gleek also discovered that she can pick off bits of this tar. She forms these bits of tar into little balls which she plays with as if it were playdoh. Only playdoh doesn’t stain clothes or fingernails or fingers. With the high temperatures of the past week Gleek has made a new discovery about street tar. She can gather large globs and place them on our oven-like front steps and they’ll turn shiny and almost liquid. It also positions the globs perfectly for them to be stepped upon and tracked into our house across the hardwood floors. That was yesterday and Gleek was told never to do it again. Today I found a glob the size of a child’s fist sitting on our doorstep. It turns out that Gleek has shared her love of tar with the two little boys next door. While we were out this morning one of them decided to leave Gleek a gift of tar.

So we’re due for another talk about tar and how we don’t pick at the tar. And we don’t make balls out of the tar. And we don’t tell our friends to do any of those things either.

I read a blog today and had one of those “Oh yeah, I’ve been there” moments. Snippet from http://bigslice.clubmom.com/big_slice_of_life/2006/07/an_unwritten_la.html:

After the birth of my children, I felt like I had a shield around
me.  There was this sense of invisibility.  People looked at my
children, and smiled.  They looked right through me. 
For a while, this was a relief.  I wasn’t feeling at my best – I had
gained 40 pounds with my first pregnancy, and wasn’t losing it
quickly.  When I became pregnant with my second child, nine months
after the birth of my first, I was relieved.  I could just let my body
do its thing.  I drew my invisibility cloak around me and sighed.  Now,
three and a half years after the birth of my youngest, I no longer have
a baby in a sling to draw the eye away from my figure.  I rarely have a
stroller to hide behind.  I notice that people are making eye contact
with me once again.
It feels like I’m on stage, and I haven’t learned all my lines

I remember disappearing into motherhood. I used it as a shield in social situations. I could count on my kids to interrupt all conversations allowing me to hide. Now my kids are older and I’m trying to learn how to have non-parenting conversations. I’m not trying to learn “small talk” which is meaningless, but “getting to know you” talk which is the beginning of friendships. I know a couple who does this really well. When they meet a new person they sit down and pin thier subject with an interested stare then ask all kinds of probing questions. Some of the questions are pushy, intrusive even, but they so honestly care about the answers that it is hard for the subject to get offended. They only pin a person that way once, but forever after they remember that conversation and they always have a start for a new conversation when encountering that person again. I’ve watched this couple in action and realize that while I don’t want to corner people and grill them about their lives, I do want to know how to start conversations with total strangers and maintain the conversation. I want to know how to get to know people. I want to step outside the mantle of parenthood and invite others to do the same. This world is full of interesting people with experiences I’ll never have. I’d like to talk to more of them.

Yesterday Gleek’s dreams came true. There was a horse in our cul de sac. An actual horse! I was informed in exclamatory phrases. Such a wonder couldn’t go unobserved, so we walked out to visit the horse. It belonged to a neighbor we know fairly well, so Gleek was invited to take a short ride, but only if she would go get her shoes on. Gleek came flying over to me, eyes bright to ask my permission. I assented and Gleek gushed “I get to ride a horse! I can almost taste my chance!”

Sunday night Link was having trouble settling into bed. I was watching a movie, and so I was grouchy at the repetitive interruptions. Finally he seemed to settle, or at least stopped bugging me. When my movie was over I discovered that he’d finally fallen asleep on the front room couch. I decided to let him sleep there rather than trying to carry 70+ lbs of boy upstairs into into a top bunk. When he woke up yesterday morning he was so pleased he got to sleep on the couch that he announced it to all the other kids. Then yesterday evening I left Kiki and Link behind while I drove a friend home. When Gleek, Patches, and I walked back in the house both Kiki and Link were curled up on the couch pretending to be asleep. Since Gleek was actually drowsy from the car ride I carried her to bed first. Then I carried the half asleep Link up and into his bed. He was awake enough to help some, fortunately. Then I came back for Kiki. She was trying not to smile and give away the fact that she was awake. I picked her up and carried her as best I could. She helped while still pretending to be asleep. I came back downstairs to discover Patches on the couch pretending to be asleep. Everyone else had been carried to bed, he wanted to be carried too. I obliged. The four kids continued to pretend to be asleep until they actually were. If only bedtime could always be so easy.

This summer Patches is often the first one of us awake. Once he is awake I have to be too, not because he’ll misbehave, but because he insists. He gets right in my face and says “Mom! Wake up! It’s Day!” as if daylight should banish sleep permanently. This attitude toward daylight also means I have trouble putting him to bed before dark. This is something of a problem during the summer. He seems finally to have adapted to sleeping in longer. Unfortunately he’s done so just in time for me to start shifting all our sleep schedules earlier in an attempt to prepare for school.

Alright I confess that I’ve been staying up too late. Then I sleep in until one of the kids wakes me up with demands. It isn’t the best way to run a household. Ideally I’d be awake before the kids and have breakfast mostly ready by the time they wake up. Instead I roll out of bed to meet the imediate demand. That demand is followed by another and another as more kids wake up and need stuff. This morning I chased demands for almost an hour trying to get everybody settled so that I could make breakfast. I hate having to ignore a screaming child while I scramble eggs. But the root of the demands was that everyone was cranky from hunger. As usual I realized that I could not get everyone happy before I fed them, which meant that inevitably someone would feel their needs were being ignored while I made breakfast.

Breakfast was made. Then breakfast was complained about. Then I threw a mini tantrum complaining that no matter what I cook someone always complains. And everyone expects me to jump to answer their whims. Four wide-eyed children finished thier eggs without further commentary.

Not such a good morning. I’m hoping to make the rest of the day better, which is why I’m venting in here. Maybe that will allow me to be nicer to my kids. After all I’m supposed to be the grown up here not another tantrum throwing, complaining child.