Today has not been the pinnacle of mommyhood for me. I actually raised my voice to my toddler. Multiple times. And when it comes right down to it, the behaviors that were angering me were nothing but what an adult should (and does) know to expect from a two-year-old. Two-year-olds are stubborn. And persistent. And easily frustrated. Some days I easily go with the flow and it's intuitive to empathize with a little person who is having a hard time navigating a big world of challenges. Today was just not one of those days.
I'm grumpy and impatient and both my girls are weathering the snarls and disapproval. It's not fair. They don't deserve to have to walk on eggshells just because I'm not doing enough to control my emotions. Poor kiddos.
So I'm taking 15 minutes to vent on my blog and chill out. And then I will pull myself together and show them the patience and respect they deserve.
:::deep breath:::
Friday, November 30, 2007
Thursday, November 29, 2007
Self-Pity
It's my blog, so I can whine if I want to. Right? Right.
My hips hurt. At this point, I don't remember if it was worse with my last pregnancy or not. Up until the last week or so I've been able to mostly get by without admitting there's a problem. But now it's too obvious to hide (very well).
About halfway (give or take) through my pregnancy with A, the symphysis (cartilaginous joint) between my hip bones gave up the ghost and refused to properly hold the bones in place. This is rather painful and caused all sorts of fun complications. Plus, it took over a year after A was born before I could take stairs or go hiking without pain.
I had high hopes that I'd get through this pregnancy without dealing with this... every time I had hip or lower back pain, I'd tell myself to slow down and back off the physical activities and would pretty much feel better the next day. Despite going much lighter on the housework, yesterday, I have not recovered from Tuesday's nesting.
When it hurts so bad to roll over in bed that you get tears in your eyes... the jig is up. When you can't stand up without holding your breath to keep from swearing... well, you get the picture.
I hate feeling weak. I hate feeling needy. Right now both feelings are completely overwhelming me.
And what really makes me angry is that there's nothing I can do about it.
Complaining doesn't help. But using my deeply ingrained stiff-upper-lip technique is making things worse because nobody understands that I've been pushing through pain and have pretty much reached my limit... the point where sucking it up and pushing through the pain becomes a physical impossibility. I tell my legs to go and they simply won't do it.
And I'm really really really angry that this makes me feel like such a useless wimp and I don't know what to do.
But if you'll forgive my obsessive need to find something to be thankful for (yeah, I was way too into Pollyanna as a kid), I need to end even a self-pity post with something positive: Today is the first day of my third trimester. I've made it through the majority of the pregnancy without major issue. Even if I'm stuck in pain for the rest of the pregnancy, I only have three months left to deal with that. I can do this.
My hips hurt. At this point, I don't remember if it was worse with my last pregnancy or not. Up until the last week or so I've been able to mostly get by without admitting there's a problem. But now it's too obvious to hide (very well).
About halfway (give or take) through my pregnancy with A, the symphysis (cartilaginous joint) between my hip bones gave up the ghost and refused to properly hold the bones in place. This is rather painful and caused all sorts of fun complications. Plus, it took over a year after A was born before I could take stairs or go hiking without pain.
I had high hopes that I'd get through this pregnancy without dealing with this... every time I had hip or lower back pain, I'd tell myself to slow down and back off the physical activities and would pretty much feel better the next day. Despite going much lighter on the housework, yesterday, I have not recovered from Tuesday's nesting.
When it hurts so bad to roll over in bed that you get tears in your eyes... the jig is up. When you can't stand up without holding your breath to keep from swearing... well, you get the picture.
I hate feeling weak. I hate feeling needy. Right now both feelings are completely overwhelming me.
And what really makes me angry is that there's nothing I can do about it.
Complaining doesn't help. But using my deeply ingrained stiff-upper-lip technique is making things worse because nobody understands that I've been pushing through pain and have pretty much reached my limit... the point where sucking it up and pushing through the pain becomes a physical impossibility. I tell my legs to go and they simply won't do it.
And I'm really really really angry that this makes me feel like such a useless wimp and I don't know what to do.
But if you'll forgive my obsessive need to find something to be thankful for (yeah, I was way too into Pollyanna as a kid), I need to end even a self-pity post with something positive: Today is the first day of my third trimester. I've made it through the majority of the pregnancy without major issue. Even if I'm stuck in pain for the rest of the pregnancy, I only have three months left to deal with that. I can do this.
Wednesday, November 28, 2007
Nesting
If I had any doubts before, they have been overrun and drowned in Pine Sol. I am nesting.
Yesterday began innocently enough, as I faced a rather dingy kitchen. First I decided to reorganize the drawers (once the dishwasher was already running, of course). Halfway into drawer #1 (the junk drawer), I realized that I should probably dust off the range hood. OK. The exterior shed its dust easily enough and then I foolishly peeked underneath.
I've read in my housekeeping books that these things should be scrubbed down and degreased at least twice per year... but I uneasily ignored that advice, hoping it could be banished to the realm that shelters such notions as keeping hand-crocheted doilies covering all horizontal surfaces and teaching the servants to properly polish the silver (and counting it when they're through). No such luck. In thirty-two years, I've managed to never take apart or scrub a fume hood. Until yesterday.
Short recap of things that don't work: Soaking the metal filter in soapy water does nothing to degrease it. Scrubbing does little more. Dishsoap won't cut through years of grease built up on the underside of the hood. Comet will, but it will get all over your brand-new stove and give you panic attacks about scratching its pristine surface. Elbow grease? Overrated. Chemical arsenal? Good clean fun.
What ultimately worked: letting the dishwasher do its pots and pans thing on the filter and lightbulb cover. Straight-up pine sol (orange scented - I'm not a barbarian) and a teflon-safe abrasive sponge cut through the years of grease build-up like nobody's business.
While the dishwasher was coping with its job, I tossed A (tutu, cowboy boots and all) into the car and we went to the local hardware store. For those of you who grew up in my homeland, I thought I'd mention that this hardware store makes me nostalgic for Linton's Big R. They have the same kind of stuff... everything from Wranglers and Ropers to John Deere ride-on toys and veterinary supplies for livestock (and 2-3 times per week they have a mobile veterinary clinic in their parking lot... wally world could learn something about one-stop shopping). They also have furnace filters and hardware. So A and I bought two furnace filters and some wall hooks... and then I noticed that they also have the big old-fashioned bags of candy, so I bought some of that, too (cinnamon bears (remind me of my Dad), pink wintergreen candies (Grandpa used to always buy me those) and circus peanuts (I don't know why I like those)).
A and I came home and binged on candy. She wasn't terribly impressed with the cinnamon bears. Woo Hoo! A whole bag of candy I don't have to share! I think I'm beginning to see why my Dad liked them so much.
After that fine, nutritious lunch, I changed the filters (hauling all necessary ladders out of the garage, up the stairs, put them away, etc.). After all that, I also did the "normal" stuff of sweeping/vacuuming/dusting, etc. Then the day was gone and it was time to make dinner.
I think I've mentioned that I instituted family-member request-specific dinners. Tuesday nights are A's dinners. I made pork lo mein stir fry.
One last little helpful bit of information: Cast iron skillets are fabulous for most things. Not so much for stir frying.
Yesterday began innocently enough, as I faced a rather dingy kitchen. First I decided to reorganize the drawers (once the dishwasher was already running, of course). Halfway into drawer #1 (the junk drawer), I realized that I should probably dust off the range hood. OK. The exterior shed its dust easily enough and then I foolishly peeked underneath.
I've read in my housekeeping books that these things should be scrubbed down and degreased at least twice per year... but I uneasily ignored that advice, hoping it could be banished to the realm that shelters such notions as keeping hand-crocheted doilies covering all horizontal surfaces and teaching the servants to properly polish the silver (and counting it when they're through). No such luck. In thirty-two years, I've managed to never take apart or scrub a fume hood. Until yesterday.
Short recap of things that don't work: Soaking the metal filter in soapy water does nothing to degrease it. Scrubbing does little more. Dishsoap won't cut through years of grease built up on the underside of the hood. Comet will, but it will get all over your brand-new stove and give you panic attacks about scratching its pristine surface. Elbow grease? Overrated. Chemical arsenal? Good clean fun.
What ultimately worked: letting the dishwasher do its pots and pans thing on the filter and lightbulb cover. Straight-up pine sol (orange scented - I'm not a barbarian) and a teflon-safe abrasive sponge cut through the years of grease build-up like nobody's business.
While the dishwasher was coping with its job, I tossed A (tutu, cowboy boots and all) into the car and we went to the local hardware store. For those of you who grew up in my homeland, I thought I'd mention that this hardware store makes me nostalgic for Linton's Big R. They have the same kind of stuff... everything from Wranglers and Ropers to John Deere ride-on toys and veterinary supplies for livestock (and 2-3 times per week they have a mobile veterinary clinic in their parking lot... wally world could learn something about one-stop shopping). They also have furnace filters and hardware. So A and I bought two furnace filters and some wall hooks... and then I noticed that they also have the big old-fashioned bags of candy, so I bought some of that, too (cinnamon bears (remind me of my Dad), pink wintergreen candies (Grandpa used to always buy me those) and circus peanuts (I don't know why I like those)).
A and I came home and binged on candy. She wasn't terribly impressed with the cinnamon bears. Woo Hoo! A whole bag of candy I don't have to share! I think I'm beginning to see why my Dad liked them so much.
After that fine, nutritious lunch, I changed the filters (hauling all necessary ladders out of the garage, up the stairs, put them away, etc.). After all that, I also did the "normal" stuff of sweeping/vacuuming/dusting, etc. Then the day was gone and it was time to make dinner.
I think I've mentioned that I instituted family-member request-specific dinners. Tuesday nights are A's dinners. I made pork lo mein stir fry.
One last little helpful bit of information: Cast iron skillets are fabulous for most things. Not so much for stir frying.
Tuesday, November 27, 2007
Favorite Things
We always decorate the tree on the Friday after Thanksgiving. This year I got my perfectionism under control and let the kids put the decorations wherever they wanted... some branches are still bent from the strain of multiple ornaments. Some branches float gracefully unburdened. The kids are proud of their tree.
The best thing about two-year-olds? Their impeccable fashion sense. This is the ensemble A composed for running errands today. Ooh la la!
Monday, November 26, 2007
Sisters
"Sometimes I think you have to march right in and demand your rights, even if you don't know what your rights are, or who the person is you're talking to. Then on the way out, slam the door." --Jack Handey--
This is the quote on my sister's blog, today. I will be chuckling to myself, recalling it, for the rest of the day. If you roll your eyes and think it's dumb... well, you're probably right, but it would be a good indication that you and I will not amuse each other in a positive way. I'm a humor-of-the-absurd kind of person. The kind of person who still giggles gleefully, just remembering the Monty Python Silly Walks sketch or the Dead Parrot sketch. Jack Handey's Deep Thoughts are right up there on my happy list, amongst any recitation from The Princess Bride. Yes, I'm one of those people. No, I'm not into D&D.
I miss my sister.
This is the quote on my sister's blog, today. I will be chuckling to myself, recalling it, for the rest of the day. If you roll your eyes and think it's dumb... well, you're probably right, but it would be a good indication that you and I will not amuse each other in a positive way. I'm a humor-of-the-absurd kind of person. The kind of person who still giggles gleefully, just remembering the Monty Python Silly Walks sketch or the Dead Parrot sketch. Jack Handey's Deep Thoughts are right up there on my happy list, amongst any recitation from The Princess Bride. Yes, I'm one of those people. No, I'm not into D&D.
I miss my sister.
Wednesday, November 21, 2007
The Real World
In the midst of waiting for a new stove, and waiting for my husband to get home so I can go to the dentist, I'm reminded how thankful I am to be who I am, living where I do. I don't have time to do my whole rant. I'll get to that later, if I can.
Meanwhile, please read this news story:
Saudis defend punishment for rape victim
And by all means, comment!
I may come across (in fact, I may be) a bit of a cultural relativist... but there are boundaries which - when pushed - find my sympathetic nature shutting down. This is one of those.
Meanwhile, please read this news story:
Saudis defend punishment for rape victim
And by all means, comment!
I may come across (in fact, I may be) a bit of a cultural relativist... but there are boundaries which - when pushed - find my sympathetic nature shutting down. This is one of those.
Tuesday, November 20, 2007
Hausfrau Joy
I have several subjects waiting for long, wordy, quasi-intellectual rants.
But those subjects will have to wait.
Right now there's just too much excitement in "The Little Life" (a favorite concept of my lit and art professors, back in the ol' Jr. College days).
Yesterday G had her 2nd grade Thanksgiving production. She played the part of the "T" - and did a mighty fine job.
Today I must do my T-day Costco shopping because I need to be at home all day tomorrow.
Why?
I'm glad you asked.
Tomorrow the fine folks at Lowe's will be delivering my new Whirlpool range. It's my Anniversary/Birthday/Christmas present from my awesome husband.
When we moved into our house, a year-and-a-half ago, I was dismayed to discover that the stove in the kitchen was... what's the word... wonky. The burners were perpetually crooked, no matter what I did to try to level them (it didn't help that they didn't sit in the reflection bowls properly and I think the connecters were crooked) and there didn't seem to be any predictibility to the temp of the oven. So I've been coping, since then, while hunting classifieds looking for a used range. A year (plus) of looking wasn't getting me closer to something usable... and NOW... I get a brand-spankin-new one. Delivered. And they'll take away my hated old one. Woo Hoo!
But those subjects will have to wait.
Right now there's just too much excitement in "The Little Life" (a favorite concept of my lit and art professors, back in the ol' Jr. College days).
Yesterday G had her 2nd grade Thanksgiving production. She played the part of the "T" - and did a mighty fine job.
Today I must do my T-day Costco shopping because I need to be at home all day tomorrow.
Why?
I'm glad you asked.
Tomorrow the fine folks at Lowe's will be delivering my new Whirlpool range. It's my Anniversary/Birthday/Christmas present from my awesome husband.
When we moved into our house, a year-and-a-half ago, I was dismayed to discover that the stove in the kitchen was... what's the word... wonky. The burners were perpetually crooked, no matter what I did to try to level them (it didn't help that they didn't sit in the reflection bowls properly and I think the connecters were crooked) and there didn't seem to be any predictibility to the temp of the oven. So I've been coping, since then, while hunting classifieds looking for a used range. A year (plus) of looking wasn't getting me closer to something usable... and NOW... I get a brand-spankin-new one. Delivered. And they'll take away my hated old one. Woo Hoo!
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