So, you'll recall my mini-tirade about sick days from the last post... I now have bronchitis. It looks like my 1 1/2 sick days will take a hit this afternoon as I'm planning to go home early. I really tried to tough it out and got all ready and showed up here at work and everything. But, once I was out in the world, I knew that I wasn't fit to be up doing much. I actually went to the Dr. yesterday, when I didn't feel too bad yet because I was short of breath and had been on and off for a week. I figured it was something to do with allergies. I've had a cough, but not a super horrible one, not the worst I've ever had. Still, I'd never in my life been short of breath like this, so I figured I better get a visit in to at least the PA. And her diagnosis was bronchitis, which I've never had. I've never had anything wrong with my lungs before, even despite a scandalous stint with smoking as a late teen. LOL ;)
I'm now all super drugged up and feeling that way. Steroids and antibiotics on top of my usual meds (which typically don't play nice with other pills.) My exhaustion from Doing It All has collapsed into a mildly feverish exhaustion, which now that it's here, I can differentiate from the normal every day exhaustion I was feeling on Saturday. I know that the antibiotics are in my system because I woke up this morning with a taste of burnt metal in mouth, like old nickels or something else equally yummy. A bad taste in the mouth is listed as one of the side effects on the sheet I got with my prescription. I guess I'm among the 8% who report that fun side effect. Better than vomitting, however, so I'll take it and call it my own. Hopefully, it will start to be worth it soon and I'll be feeling better.
Ok, I'm done whining about myself, but first here's one last complaint: Who gets bronchitis in August? It's like having a sunburn in January, unnecessary and ridiculous. If this were the Ides of March or something, I wouldn't feel so annoyed with it (and I'd probably have more sick days left). Bronchitis in August is for invalids and the elderly. I'm not impressed and will start taking my vitamins more regularly. *sigh*
Be well.
Wednesday, August 29, 2007
Saturday, August 25, 2007
On My Mind
Here's what's on my mind today:
1) Nate has a fever and I'm hoping that he's not getting sick. (Well, he's obviously a little bit sick, but I'm hoping it doesn't develop into a doctor visit worthy/staying home from work sick.) I'm worried about him mostly because I am not with him. Since I am at work and Shad is at a soccer tournament, he is with my parents. So, I can't really assess his illness and that makes me worry more.
2) I work way too much. This working full-time gig is for the freakin' birds. I'm so tired, and I'm so tired of being so tired. If I could work here 30 hours a week instead of 40, I think we would all feel better at our house. I know I would.
3) My house is messy. I fear that it will always be messy. It doesn't matter how much time I spend picking it up, it will be messy again in less than an hour. And that's just mess... that doesn't even address actual dust and dirt underneath the mess. I've narrowed it down to an issue with three (or four) things: a) laundry, b) mail and school papers, and c) books. These are the things that I see laying around the house that I'm tired of looking at and dealing with. However, given my current state of exhaustion (see 2 and 4), I don't see it being addressed too actively this weekend.
4) My children don't sleep enough. Even when they are tired in the evenings, they fight going to bed. Even if I give them Benadryl for allergies (really!), they still take forever to go to sleep and still often wake up at night (which means I wake up at night). Since Nate has a fever, he was up a LOT last night and finally ended up sleeping on the couch for a few hours before waking up prior to 6am. I feel today as though I have a newborn at our house. But if I had a newborn, I would not be working and would be, in fact, sleeping while the baby slept. I can barely keep my eyes open today.
5) I think I ran over a turtle on my way back from lunch. In my exhausted state, I was either hallucinating and there wasn't really a turtle there, or there was a turtle and I just didn't see the turtle in time--but then, who is looking for a turtle on Western Ave.? And I didn't exactly feel a crunch under the tire or a bump or anything like that, but I am in the Rav today and so I'm not sure if I would feel it run over a little turtle or not. When I looked back in the mirror after maybe running it over, I didn't see a turtle. I might be losing my mind. I like turtles, too, so if I did run over a turtle, then I am very sad about that.
6) I'm starting to remember why I was not a fan of soccer season a few years back when Shad was head varsity coach at Tolono. This time he is just the JV coach. So, he isn't in charge of the entire program and parents and players aren't calling our house constantly. But, he is never home. When he is home, he is either eating, showering or sleeping. We talk about 4 minutes a day and that is usually first thing in the morning while I am in the shower. Today he had to be ON the soccer bus at 6:15am, so I didn't even see him (although the children were already up!) I miss him, and, while I hope he is having fun coaching soccer, I am still not a fan of soccer season.
7) I watched "Scott Baio is 45...And Single" on my lunch hour today on VH1. I don't typically get to watch much VH1. Noggin is channel 298 and Nickelodeon is 299 and that is about as high as our channels ever get to go. But lately I have been very lazy on lunch hours and haven't been doing laundry and dishes and picking up from the mornings like I am supposed to. I have been watching tv while I eat. And so today I decided to scan the channels and I happened upon the Scott Baio show. I mostly just want to know why he gets to have a show about what a loser he's become. And why does he hang out with Wayne from The Wonder Years?
And finally,
8) Why do moms get the same number of sick days as other people...single people and people without children? I could go on for hours about how our country devalues working parents, but this one paticular topic is just wearing on my nerves lately. I started 2007 with 8 sick days instead of 10 because I went over my allotment in 2006. In both instances, the majority of my sick days have been taken to stay home with sick children. This year, for instance, I have taken 6 1/2 sick days. 2 1/2 of those days were for my own illness. The other 4 days were for my children. Now, because I am a mom, and have been for nearly 7 years now, I know that this grand total is actually pretty darn good. What I mean to say is, lots of people have probably had to stay home more than 4 days with their kids so far this year. Am I right??? We've actually been pretty healthy. Nobody had a 5 day flu. Nobody had surgery or was in the hospital. Overall, I think I have probably missed less days of work than millions of other American parents. So, why is it that I have to now, with over 1/3 of the year left on the calendar, fret over how I will manage with my 1 1/2 days left of sick time? Where is the justice in that? If Nate is sick on Monday, for instance, that will eat up my 1 day and then I'll be mostly S.O.L. if I get sick or have to stay home with a kid again before January. I've been told that I cannot borrow against next year again. I will have to go without pay.
What do I propose, then? Extra sick days for parents. I would propose an additional 3 days per year per child. That would give me an extra 6 days a year on top of the 10 that I get. I mean, COME ON, some of my other colleagues who DON'T have little kids have almost used up their own days because we work with the public and the public SNEEZES and COUGHS on us. We get sick from this job. And I am the one who works with the little kids here at the library. Last year a little kid sneezed so heavily on me that I had to wipe myself off. And still, I get the same amount of sick days as the lady who processes books in the basement and lives alone with her cat.
*sigh*
Just a few things that I have on my mind today. There's more, of course, but I'll stop burdening you with it now and move on to something productive here at work like making construction paper monkeys for next week's storytime. ;)
1) Nate has a fever and I'm hoping that he's not getting sick. (Well, he's obviously a little bit sick, but I'm hoping it doesn't develop into a doctor visit worthy/staying home from work sick.) I'm worried about him mostly because I am not with him. Since I am at work and Shad is at a soccer tournament, he is with my parents. So, I can't really assess his illness and that makes me worry more.
2) I work way too much. This working full-time gig is for the freakin' birds. I'm so tired, and I'm so tired of being so tired. If I could work here 30 hours a week instead of 40, I think we would all feel better at our house. I know I would.
3) My house is messy. I fear that it will always be messy. It doesn't matter how much time I spend picking it up, it will be messy again in less than an hour. And that's just mess... that doesn't even address actual dust and dirt underneath the mess. I've narrowed it down to an issue with three (or four) things: a) laundry, b) mail and school papers, and c) books. These are the things that I see laying around the house that I'm tired of looking at and dealing with. However, given my current state of exhaustion (see 2 and 4), I don't see it being addressed too actively this weekend.
4) My children don't sleep enough. Even when they are tired in the evenings, they fight going to bed. Even if I give them Benadryl for allergies (really!), they still take forever to go to sleep and still often wake up at night (which means I wake up at night). Since Nate has a fever, he was up a LOT last night and finally ended up sleeping on the couch for a few hours before waking up prior to 6am. I feel today as though I have a newborn at our house. But if I had a newborn, I would not be working and would be, in fact, sleeping while the baby slept. I can barely keep my eyes open today.
5) I think I ran over a turtle on my way back from lunch. In my exhausted state, I was either hallucinating and there wasn't really a turtle there, or there was a turtle and I just didn't see the turtle in time--but then, who is looking for a turtle on Western Ave.? And I didn't exactly feel a crunch under the tire or a bump or anything like that, but I am in the Rav today and so I'm not sure if I would feel it run over a little turtle or not. When I looked back in the mirror after maybe running it over, I didn't see a turtle. I might be losing my mind. I like turtles, too, so if I did run over a turtle, then I am very sad about that.
6) I'm starting to remember why I was not a fan of soccer season a few years back when Shad was head varsity coach at Tolono. This time he is just the JV coach. So, he isn't in charge of the entire program and parents and players aren't calling our house constantly. But, he is never home. When he is home, he is either eating, showering or sleeping. We talk about 4 minutes a day and that is usually first thing in the morning while I am in the shower. Today he had to be ON the soccer bus at 6:15am, so I didn't even see him (although the children were already up!) I miss him, and, while I hope he is having fun coaching soccer, I am still not a fan of soccer season.
7) I watched "Scott Baio is 45...And Single" on my lunch hour today on VH1. I don't typically get to watch much VH1. Noggin is channel 298 and Nickelodeon is 299 and that is about as high as our channels ever get to go. But lately I have been very lazy on lunch hours and haven't been doing laundry and dishes and picking up from the mornings like I am supposed to. I have been watching tv while I eat. And so today I decided to scan the channels and I happened upon the Scott Baio show. I mostly just want to know why he gets to have a show about what a loser he's become. And why does he hang out with Wayne from The Wonder Years?
And finally,
8) Why do moms get the same number of sick days as other people...single people and people without children? I could go on for hours about how our country devalues working parents, but this one paticular topic is just wearing on my nerves lately. I started 2007 with 8 sick days instead of 10 because I went over my allotment in 2006. In both instances, the majority of my sick days have been taken to stay home with sick children. This year, for instance, I have taken 6 1/2 sick days. 2 1/2 of those days were for my own illness. The other 4 days were for my children. Now, because I am a mom, and have been for nearly 7 years now, I know that this grand total is actually pretty darn good. What I mean to say is, lots of people have probably had to stay home more than 4 days with their kids so far this year. Am I right??? We've actually been pretty healthy. Nobody had a 5 day flu. Nobody had surgery or was in the hospital. Overall, I think I have probably missed less days of work than millions of other American parents. So, why is it that I have to now, with over 1/3 of the year left on the calendar, fret over how I will manage with my 1 1/2 days left of sick time? Where is the justice in that? If Nate is sick on Monday, for instance, that will eat up my 1 day and then I'll be mostly S.O.L. if I get sick or have to stay home with a kid again before January. I've been told that I cannot borrow against next year again. I will have to go without pay.
What do I propose, then? Extra sick days for parents. I would propose an additional 3 days per year per child. That would give me an extra 6 days a year on top of the 10 that I get. I mean, COME ON, some of my other colleagues who DON'T have little kids have almost used up their own days because we work with the public and the public SNEEZES and COUGHS on us. We get sick from this job. And I am the one who works with the little kids here at the library. Last year a little kid sneezed so heavily on me that I had to wipe myself off. And still, I get the same amount of sick days as the lady who processes books in the basement and lives alone with her cat.
*sigh*
Just a few things that I have on my mind today. There's more, of course, but I'll stop burdening you with it now and move on to something productive here at work like making construction paper monkeys for next week's storytime. ;)
Saturday, August 18, 2007
The Early Bird Gets Worms in Their Toaster Strudel
5:54am
That's what the clock said when I woke up this morning. Shad wasn't in the bed. The dog was. There were footsteps in the hallway and a light on in the bathroom. I felt a groan well up in my throat. The pressure in my bladder was significant, as I had apparently slept all night without getting up to pee. This rarley happens...like maybe once a month or less. Despite all of this, I rolled over and feebly attempted to keep sleeping. The dog lifted her head to look at me but didn't attempt to snuggle, a sure sign that she wasn't ready to get up, either.
Maybe one minute later I heard voices. Shad and Maia both appeared to be up. My groggy brain was busy trying to supress the need to pee and the light and voices all at once and it was just a bit too much to handle. Why were people talking? Why were lights on? Why, o why, o why, o why were they TALKING?
I knew exactly where this was going. The need to pee forced me out of bed. I stuck my head into Maia's room first. "What are you doing?" I questioned in my best Mommy Who Is Tired and Confused voice. She was standing at her dresser with no pants on. Had she peed the bed? This only happens a couple times a year any more, but still it happens. And I had given her Benadryl for allergies (really!!) before bed, so maybe she had slept so soundly that she didn't wake up?
"I'm getting shorts," she whined in the voice that I know to belong only to the Maia who isn't really ready to get up.
Shad appeared in the hallway. He had to use the bathroom and could I please just lay down with her so that she would go back to sleep?
Fine. My alarm was set for 6:40am so that I could get ready for work. I could sleep for another little while and I didn't care where. I got my pillow and laid down with her. She flopped and pulled on the covers and tried to get comfortable for a minute. And just as we were mostly settled, I heard "MOMMY" from Nate's room.
I stopped using manners at this point. I'm not proud of it, but it's the truth.
"Congratulations Everyone! We're all awake and it's only 6am on SATURDAY!" I bellowed. All week we had been dragging Nate out of bed to get ready for school. All week he had been groggy and grouchy and a total pain in the butt about getting up in the mornings. I went to his room this morning to find him smirking up at me from his bed. He knew it was too early to get up and he didn't care. It was hilarious to him.
And we were up. All of us. We were all awake and we were all grouchy except for Nate (who would prove to be plenty grouchy in a little bit). My sarcastic nature surfaced more fiercely than I'd like to admit and I actually clapped and pronounced "BRAVO HUDDLESTONS!" as everyone marched out to the living room. I'm sure that didn't help anyone, but at that moment I didn't care. I rocked with Nate for about 20 minutes while Shad took a shower. Maia got on the computer (shocker). All was calm for a while. Nate commented every few minutes on how the sun was coming up as if trying to convince me that it was morning and it would be ok to turn on the television. He was still tired enough to lay on my lap, however, so I resisted for a while. Eventually, we watched the end of the Wiggles (Anthony was lookin' pretty good this morning), and when Shad got out of the shower, I tried to get up and go take my turn. I had to get ready for work, after all.
Oh my goodness... you would have thought that I told him that he had to go get a series of vaccinations or something. Nate threw a huge big ol' tantrum. He did NOT want me to get out of the chair. He did NOT want milky. He did NOT want to eat breakfast. He did NOT want to sit with Daddy instead. He wanted MOMMY. We both tried to offer him alternatives, but he denied interest in anything we offered and chose to scream his head off for 20 solid minutes while I showered. Shad put him in his room where he laid on the floor and kicked the door while he screamed. When Shad let him out of his room, he laid on the floor in the hallway and kicked the bathroom door (which I had locked) and screamed. And screamed and screamed. And screamed and screamed. I kept thinking that Shad would come drag him back to his room, but no. I finally got out of the shower, and when I opened the door for him he had snot all over his face and reached up to me like a little orphan child who had found his long lost mother.
Am I not allowed to shower now? Part of me felt badly because here I was preparing to leave him for the majority of the day and he needed me (for whatever reason). I hate that I couldn't sit in the chair and rock with him for an hour instead of half an hour, but I just couldn't. Was I supposed to NOT take a shower today and be grimy all day because he was throwing a tantrum? I don't think so.
And, thus, started our first Saturday of the school year. Shad had soccer practice at 9am, and I had to be at work at 8am. His grandma is watching the kids until I get home for lunch at 11:30. Since Maia picked up with the crying and whining where Nate left off after my shower, I'm scared to even call and see how it is going. It is pretty quiet so far here at the library. I almost feel guilty for being here, sitting peacefully, writing about the chaos of the early morning. But, someone has to be out here earning a living to pay for the toaster strudels (NOT the cream cheese kind which Maia doesn't like) and the plastic sippy cups (which are almost daily destroyed by the dog when left on the floor) and the new school shoes (size 2 because Maia has enormous feet) and preschool supplies (washable crayons, which cost $2.90 more per box than the regular ones) and the soccer shorts (which are now only in style if they come almost past your knee, making the shorts from our last coaching stint too short and, thus, unwearable.)
Someday they will move out and we will miss them. Until then, I am going to try screaming at Nate all through his bathtime and letting Maia make her own breakfast. ;)
That's what the clock said when I woke up this morning. Shad wasn't in the bed. The dog was. There were footsteps in the hallway and a light on in the bathroom. I felt a groan well up in my throat. The pressure in my bladder was significant, as I had apparently slept all night without getting up to pee. This rarley happens...like maybe once a month or less. Despite all of this, I rolled over and feebly attempted to keep sleeping. The dog lifted her head to look at me but didn't attempt to snuggle, a sure sign that she wasn't ready to get up, either.
Maybe one minute later I heard voices. Shad and Maia both appeared to be up. My groggy brain was busy trying to supress the need to pee and the light and voices all at once and it was just a bit too much to handle. Why were people talking? Why were lights on? Why, o why, o why, o why were they TALKING?
I knew exactly where this was going. The need to pee forced me out of bed. I stuck my head into Maia's room first. "What are you doing?" I questioned in my best Mommy Who Is Tired and Confused voice. She was standing at her dresser with no pants on. Had she peed the bed? This only happens a couple times a year any more, but still it happens. And I had given her Benadryl for allergies (really!!) before bed, so maybe she had slept so soundly that she didn't wake up?
"I'm getting shorts," she whined in the voice that I know to belong only to the Maia who isn't really ready to get up.
Shad appeared in the hallway. He had to use the bathroom and could I please just lay down with her so that she would go back to sleep?
Fine. My alarm was set for 6:40am so that I could get ready for work. I could sleep for another little while and I didn't care where. I got my pillow and laid down with her. She flopped and pulled on the covers and tried to get comfortable for a minute. And just as we were mostly settled, I heard "MOMMY" from Nate's room.
I stopped using manners at this point. I'm not proud of it, but it's the truth.
"Congratulations Everyone! We're all awake and it's only 6am on SATURDAY!" I bellowed. All week we had been dragging Nate out of bed to get ready for school. All week he had been groggy and grouchy and a total pain in the butt about getting up in the mornings. I went to his room this morning to find him smirking up at me from his bed. He knew it was too early to get up and he didn't care. It was hilarious to him.
And we were up. All of us. We were all awake and we were all grouchy except for Nate (who would prove to be plenty grouchy in a little bit). My sarcastic nature surfaced more fiercely than I'd like to admit and I actually clapped and pronounced "BRAVO HUDDLESTONS!" as everyone marched out to the living room. I'm sure that didn't help anyone, but at that moment I didn't care. I rocked with Nate for about 20 minutes while Shad took a shower. Maia got on the computer (shocker). All was calm for a while. Nate commented every few minutes on how the sun was coming up as if trying to convince me that it was morning and it would be ok to turn on the television. He was still tired enough to lay on my lap, however, so I resisted for a while. Eventually, we watched the end of the Wiggles (Anthony was lookin' pretty good this morning), and when Shad got out of the shower, I tried to get up and go take my turn. I had to get ready for work, after all.
Oh my goodness... you would have thought that I told him that he had to go get a series of vaccinations or something. Nate threw a huge big ol' tantrum. He did NOT want me to get out of the chair. He did NOT want milky. He did NOT want to eat breakfast. He did NOT want to sit with Daddy instead. He wanted MOMMY. We both tried to offer him alternatives, but he denied interest in anything we offered and chose to scream his head off for 20 solid minutes while I showered. Shad put him in his room where he laid on the floor and kicked the door while he screamed. When Shad let him out of his room, he laid on the floor in the hallway and kicked the bathroom door (which I had locked) and screamed. And screamed and screamed. And screamed and screamed. I kept thinking that Shad would come drag him back to his room, but no. I finally got out of the shower, and when I opened the door for him he had snot all over his face and reached up to me like a little orphan child who had found his long lost mother.
Am I not allowed to shower now? Part of me felt badly because here I was preparing to leave him for the majority of the day and he needed me (for whatever reason). I hate that I couldn't sit in the chair and rock with him for an hour instead of half an hour, but I just couldn't. Was I supposed to NOT take a shower today and be grimy all day because he was throwing a tantrum? I don't think so.
And, thus, started our first Saturday of the school year. Shad had soccer practice at 9am, and I had to be at work at 8am. His grandma is watching the kids until I get home for lunch at 11:30. Since Maia picked up with the crying and whining where Nate left off after my shower, I'm scared to even call and see how it is going. It is pretty quiet so far here at the library. I almost feel guilty for being here, sitting peacefully, writing about the chaos of the early morning. But, someone has to be out here earning a living to pay for the toaster strudels (NOT the cream cheese kind which Maia doesn't like) and the plastic sippy cups (which are almost daily destroyed by the dog when left on the floor) and the new school shoes (size 2 because Maia has enormous feet) and preschool supplies (washable crayons, which cost $2.90 more per box than the regular ones) and the soccer shorts (which are now only in style if they come almost past your knee, making the shorts from our last coaching stint too short and, thus, unwearable.)
Someday they will move out and we will miss them. Until then, I am going to try screaming at Nate all through his bathtime and letting Maia make her own breakfast. ;)
Wednesday, August 08, 2007
Rock-a-bye Baby
Here it is, the last week before school starts. In fact, tomorrow is our first morning of getting everyone up and out of the house before 8am. Shad has soccer practice at 8 and I have to be at work at 8. I'm not sure who will have a harder time getting up, us or the kids. They haven't had to be awakened much this summer, if at all, and neither one is a real cracker-jack (as my mother would say) at getting out of bed before they're ready.
Maia may be excited about school next week, which should help in getting her up early for a little while. Nate will just be going to daycare earlier than ever, so he isn't likely to see much excitement in that. I am hoping, however, that by getting up earlier, they will be ready to go to bed earlier. Nate is already on "the list" in his classroom as The Kid Who Can't Have More Than an Hour Nap. The white board on the wall in his classroom alerts all of the teachers to his "situation". When he naps longer than an hour, he won't go to bed before 10:30. And since I'm ready for bed at 9:30, staying up with Nate until after 10pm is not something that I want to do.
Since we moved to the Big Boy Bed, he has had his ups and downs. Some nights he lets me read a few stories and then tell a few stories (Curious George, Mickey Mouse, Cookie Monster and Spiderman--aka Peter Parker--ALL of which end with the characters going "night-night") and then he will go to sleep fine in his bed when I leave his room. Other nights, he wants me to rock him. And in order to curtail crying and screaming that could wake up Sissy, I go ahead and rock him. Rocking the 3 year old to sleep is, also, not something that I want to do. However, if he goes to sleep quickly and without a fuss, I will do it. Usually, he will whisper to himself (which my brother used to do and it drove me insane!) until he is tired enough to sleep. He will do whisper-versions of Itsy Bitsy Spider and 5 Little Monkeys Sitting in a Tree. If I join in out of habit he makes me stop. I guess it's his own special Nate Whispering and can't be tainted by Mommy. He has also started stroking my hair and pulling and twirling it while we sit and rock. I try to stop him (it hurts!) and he says "No, Mommy! I trying to make it pretty!" I haven't told Shad about this, as I'm afraid it could be interpretted as him having an internal desire to one day be a hair stylist. ;)
When he finally falls asleep with me in the rocking chair, atop his Spiderman pillow, 2 blue blankies and at least one stuffed animal--be it bear, monkey or Shrek baby--, I cannot BELIEVE how freaking big the kid is! Watching your baby grow, knowing it is your last little baby, is so weird. And here he is three years old and all stretched out across me on the chair with size 11 feet and almost too heavy for me to carry to bed asleep. As I was looking at him a few nights ago, I couldn't help but think about how his growing little body actually formed and grew inside mine out of nothing more than 2 cells. Bizarro! It is such a freakish thing, such a miracle really. I thought about his labor and delivery, which I remember much more lucidly than Maia's, how very, very much it hurt and how I made a sound like a wounded ninja. And, maybe because we just had communion at church on Sunday, I thought about Jesus' act at the last supper of saying "My body broken for you" and "My blood spilled for you". I had never really equated this with the act of birthing a child before, but really, when you think about it, there is nothing much closer to Jesus' sacrifice of his earthly life than being a mother, starting with the "breaking" of your body and...let's face it.... the bleeding.
I remember Maia's first Christmas and, saving you the story of how exhausting it was because we had to take her to the ER on Christmas Eve, I recall having a new connection, a new appreciation for Jesus' mother. She clearly went through multiple trials in her life all due to her son. At church that Christmas, I remember being more touched by the way this woman bore her son and then watched him suffer than I ever had before. So, I have experienced this spiritual motherly connection with Jesus before, but moreso through what Mary endured as his mother. I have also experienced the way that God regards us as His children and loves us the same way (or moreso!) than we love our own children. But, I had never thought about how the sacrifice that Jesus himself made for us can be likened to our own acts as parents.
Sacrifice is one of those words that makes you bristle a little, isn't it. If someone came up to you and said "Are you willing to make a sacrifice?" you would immediately want to know what for. "Why?" Sacrifice implies that you will be giving up something and that there will likely not be much, if anything in it for you. It often goes against our human nature to sacrifice. And yet, especially as we grow up and then become parents, we start to see that sacrifice is necessary and inevitable in life. Maybe it is just sacrificing a day off at work because someone else is sick and the staff is shorthanded (NOT one of my favorite ways to practice sacrificing...let me tell you!) Maybe it is giving some of your hard earned money to your church or to some other worthy cause. And we've all heard stories about someone sacrificing a kidney for a loved one who needs a transplant, or bone marrow, or liters of blood. Truly, there is within us the capacity to sacrifice on behalf on our fellow human beings, even though it may not always be on our list of fun things to do.
As a parent, there is a lot of sacrifice, beginning with giving your entire earthly body over to the growth and development of another human being. Your skin is stretched to unbelievable lengths, everything hurts, you can hardly walk, fingers and feet swell, your face breaks out and you're mostly miserable. (If you aren't/weren't, then I don't want to hear about it.) And then just when you think you can't take one more day, your uterus begins to contract violently in an effort to expel it's contents. The opening, although it was actually designed to accomplish this feat, just isn't exactly big enough to get the job done without a significant amount of pain. There are often stitches required afterwards. And then all throughout the process (and for weeks thereafter) there's a great deal of blood involved. "My body broken for you." "My blood spilled for you." Isn't it true, then, that part of the miracle of birth is the way that it mirrors Christ's suffering for us?
Wow, this got heavy all of a sudden. I started out of the gate rattling on about having to wake up earlier tomorrow morning and I landed behind a pulpit. I guess I just couldn't keep all of this to myself for some reason. In the moments after Nate fell asleep the other night and before I lugged him to bed (you should see me trying to do this), I glimpsed something ethereal. It helped me to reallign my attitudes about the sacrifices that I make for my children. I won't be rocking Nate to sleep forever, so I shouldn't worry so much about it being a bad habit. I should cherish the moments and just deal with a little bit less sleep more gracefully. My sacrifice is, after all, only a miniature version of the ultimate one that Christ made for all of us.
(Remind me of all of this tomorrow morning when I'm out of coffee...)
Wednesday, August 01, 2007
Six Going On Thirteen
Even as I see it happening, I am powerless to stop it. (At least I feel powerless to stop it. Maybe I'm just too tired.) My daughter is 6 1/2 years old, will turn 7 in October, and yet she is--in some ways--treading dangerously close to 13, which I do not really appreciate.
The day after we returned from Jamaica, back in June, Maia asked me how old she would have to be to have a credit card, a cell phone and a camera. I told her that we could think about getting one of those kid cameras for Christmas but that a cell phone was several years away and a credit card was more than 10 years away. "Hmmmph" was her reply to my answer. I guess she was hoping that a credit card was in her near future. As if. I explained that to have a credit card, you have to first have a J-O-B. She wanted to know how old she would have to be to get a job. I told her she could babysit when she was 12 or 13 but to have a real job she'd have to be closer to 16 and that all depended on a lot of other things. I didn't see the need to explain that she'd have to keep her grades up and not be too busy with other activities and, oh yeah, be done getting mommy out of bed to sleep with her every night.
So, it wasn't too many more days before Maia's quest to make money began. What could she do to make money besides chores? Sometimes we give her a dime or a quarter for helping with chores around the house. It isn't really an allowance but will sometimes encourage her to help out when we mostly need her to do something independent and don't mind parting with a few coins. Keep in mind, it's more about getting her to go and do something without our attention for a little while than it is to get her to help with cleaning or straightening because whatever she "cleans" or "straightens" or helps with usually will have to be re-done by an adult anyway. And, really, the chores only go so far. There are only so many things that a 6 year old can do around the house without help. Sweeping, picking up, folding towels, etc.... stuff that doesn't involve chemical cleaners or standing on chairs.
Right. So, somewhere along the way during that week after we got back from our trip, Maia and Shad together deduced that she could try to list things on ebay in order to make a little money this summer. They began doing this without consulting me and the business model was conceived, birthed and fed all before I got home from work one day. I'm guessing now, looking back, that I rolled my eyes at them and said something like "Whatever, just don't expect me to start shipping all of this stuff on my lunch hour". Oh no, no of course not. They would be doing everything on their own. Fine. They clearly needed a hobby and something to fill some of their free summer hours with. Swimming lessons, tee ball, and tennis lessons had not been enough, so by all means starting an ebay business was the next logical step.
They started with DVDs which are compact and easy to ship, can often be purchased cheaply and for some reason sell fairly well on ebay. Shad has a friend who has made a full-time job out of this gig, so it must work somehow. And they would only be doing a few at a time, so it was no big deal. Most of the profit comes from charging more for shipping than you spend on shipping, but there are also some titles that sell for more than you have bought them for, and thus there is extra profit.
Well, within a week Maia was able to list an entire item on ebay all by herself, including locating the picture of the DVD, and copying any necessary information into the description and title. If these people knew that they were buying ebay items from a 6 year old, I think they might be a little shocked. When an items doesn't sell, she promptly relists it. When an item does sell, she gets the shipping information, waits for the paypal payment to clear and she and Daddy take it to the post office and ship it. She records her financial stats in a notebook that has three columns: Item Price + Shipping Price, Shipping Cost, Profit. The Profit is then recorded again on another page in the notebook and divided into: Savings, Business Costs, Cash. She puts a percentage of each sale into savings, another percentage back into the business to buy more items for listing, and what's leftover she keeps for spending money, which is mostly spent at Dollar Tree on useless items like hair ties and beaded necklace kits.
Shad took her to the bank to open a savings account. She got to open it with a small amount of money because it is a special minor's account. She got a free, pink, plastic piggy bank with a cool twist off nose to get your money out. And she was pretty excited about the piggy bank. Just because she is a young businesswoman does not mean that she isn't enthralled with something pink and plastic and free in the shape of a pig. They even went back a few weeks later and opened an account for Nate with his birthday money. He got a blue piggy and yesterday I found them both standing on a chair in the kitchen raiding our change cup in the corner cabinet to put coins in their piggies and make them shake louder. We had to have a talk about how the change cup is not for their entertainment... it is for emergencies like when Mommy runs out of instant coffee and must have a gas station cappuccino before work.
Mostly, the ebay experiment has gone well, I think. With summer coming to a close here pretty soon, I truly hope that we will find our need for listing ebay items to be diminished. I don't honestly know how we would keep up with it during the school year. Overall it has been a good experience for Maia, learning about earning, saving and spending money. There is one minor issue that I have with the whole thing. Evidently, while Daddy was teaching Maia to save money he was also promising her that she could spend the saved money on something once she had enough saved. This idea is mostly foreign to me, as I was taught as a child to simply save the money and rarely spend it. (Not sure why I haven't been able to carry this practice into adulthood, but I digress....) Shad, on the other hand, saved several hundred dollars as a 9 year old lad and bought himself a video-cassette recorder (you'll remember this as a VCR). It came complete with a wired remote and everything and he got to put it in his bedroom and watch VHS tapes on it. So, remembering this as a fulfilling experience of saving and spending, he told Maia that she could get something with her money once she had saved up enough.
What did she want to get? An MP3 player. And indeed she had mentioned to me a week or so ago that she was wondering about getting an MP3 player, to which I responded "No". She is too young and will lose/break/have stolen the MP3 player. Her brother will want it and they will fight about it. She is too young to listen to music on headphones, as it will impair her precious hearing. I will end up having to keep track of it and deal with the crying and freaking out when it is lost/stolen/broken. There are lots of reason why she is too young for her own MP3 player. But, alas, even though I had this conversation with her, I did not know that I also needed to have this conversation with her Daddy.
Daddy ordered her an MP3 player online last week. He didn't tell me that he was getting ready to or that he had. No. Maia told me right before she went to sleep, as I was laying next to her. She whispered with a truly mischievous tone "Daddy ordered my MP3 player." To which I replied "What?" And she repeated "Daddy ordered my MP3 player." I was too tired to care at that point in the evening and just muttered to her to go to sleep. And we are now awaiting the arrival of the MP3 player via UPS or Fed Ex anytime this week. I mentioned to my Beloved that I didn't think that an MP3 player for Maia was a good idea. And I mentioned all of the reasons that I didn't think it was a good idea. But it was too late by then, so we decided that stuff like this will need to be discussed ahead of time from now on and that she will have to learn to not play us like that in the future.
Right. I have a feeling that this is only the beginning of her playing us... and when you have a 6 year old who has started her own ebay business, what else can you expect??
The day after we returned from Jamaica, back in June, Maia asked me how old she would have to be to have a credit card, a cell phone and a camera. I told her that we could think about getting one of those kid cameras for Christmas but that a cell phone was several years away and a credit card was more than 10 years away. "Hmmmph" was her reply to my answer. I guess she was hoping that a credit card was in her near future. As if. I explained that to have a credit card, you have to first have a J-O-B. She wanted to know how old she would have to be to get a job. I told her she could babysit when she was 12 or 13 but to have a real job she'd have to be closer to 16 and that all depended on a lot of other things. I didn't see the need to explain that she'd have to keep her grades up and not be too busy with other activities and, oh yeah, be done getting mommy out of bed to sleep with her every night.
So, it wasn't too many more days before Maia's quest to make money began. What could she do to make money besides chores? Sometimes we give her a dime or a quarter for helping with chores around the house. It isn't really an allowance but will sometimes encourage her to help out when we mostly need her to do something independent and don't mind parting with a few coins. Keep in mind, it's more about getting her to go and do something without our attention for a little while than it is to get her to help with cleaning or straightening because whatever she "cleans" or "straightens" or helps with usually will have to be re-done by an adult anyway. And, really, the chores only go so far. There are only so many things that a 6 year old can do around the house without help. Sweeping, picking up, folding towels, etc.... stuff that doesn't involve chemical cleaners or standing on chairs.
Right. So, somewhere along the way during that week after we got back from our trip, Maia and Shad together deduced that she could try to list things on ebay in order to make a little money this summer. They began doing this without consulting me and the business model was conceived, birthed and fed all before I got home from work one day. I'm guessing now, looking back, that I rolled my eyes at them and said something like "Whatever, just don't expect me to start shipping all of this stuff on my lunch hour". Oh no, no of course not. They would be doing everything on their own. Fine. They clearly needed a hobby and something to fill some of their free summer hours with. Swimming lessons, tee ball, and tennis lessons had not been enough, so by all means starting an ebay business was the next logical step.
They started with DVDs which are compact and easy to ship, can often be purchased cheaply and for some reason sell fairly well on ebay. Shad has a friend who has made a full-time job out of this gig, so it must work somehow. And they would only be doing a few at a time, so it was no big deal. Most of the profit comes from charging more for shipping than you spend on shipping, but there are also some titles that sell for more than you have bought them for, and thus there is extra profit.
Well, within a week Maia was able to list an entire item on ebay all by herself, including locating the picture of the DVD, and copying any necessary information into the description and title. If these people knew that they were buying ebay items from a 6 year old, I think they might be a little shocked. When an items doesn't sell, she promptly relists it. When an item does sell, she gets the shipping information, waits for the paypal payment to clear and she and Daddy take it to the post office and ship it. She records her financial stats in a notebook that has three columns: Item Price + Shipping Price, Shipping Cost, Profit. The Profit is then recorded again on another page in the notebook and divided into: Savings, Business Costs, Cash. She puts a percentage of each sale into savings, another percentage back into the business to buy more items for listing, and what's leftover she keeps for spending money, which is mostly spent at Dollar Tree on useless items like hair ties and beaded necklace kits.
Shad took her to the bank to open a savings account. She got to open it with a small amount of money because it is a special minor's account. She got a free, pink, plastic piggy bank with a cool twist off nose to get your money out. And she was pretty excited about the piggy bank. Just because she is a young businesswoman does not mean that she isn't enthralled with something pink and plastic and free in the shape of a pig. They even went back a few weeks later and opened an account for Nate with his birthday money. He got a blue piggy and yesterday I found them both standing on a chair in the kitchen raiding our change cup in the corner cabinet to put coins in their piggies and make them shake louder. We had to have a talk about how the change cup is not for their entertainment... it is for emergencies like when Mommy runs out of instant coffee and must have a gas station cappuccino before work.
Mostly, the ebay experiment has gone well, I think. With summer coming to a close here pretty soon, I truly hope that we will find our need for listing ebay items to be diminished. I don't honestly know how we would keep up with it during the school year. Overall it has been a good experience for Maia, learning about earning, saving and spending money. There is one minor issue that I have with the whole thing. Evidently, while Daddy was teaching Maia to save money he was also promising her that she could spend the saved money on something once she had enough saved. This idea is mostly foreign to me, as I was taught as a child to simply save the money and rarely spend it. (Not sure why I haven't been able to carry this practice into adulthood, but I digress....) Shad, on the other hand, saved several hundred dollars as a 9 year old lad and bought himself a video-cassette recorder (you'll remember this as a VCR). It came complete with a wired remote and everything and he got to put it in his bedroom and watch VHS tapes on it. So, remembering this as a fulfilling experience of saving and spending, he told Maia that she could get something with her money once she had saved up enough.
What did she want to get? An MP3 player. And indeed she had mentioned to me a week or so ago that she was wondering about getting an MP3 player, to which I responded "No". She is too young and will lose/break/have stolen the MP3 player. Her brother will want it and they will fight about it. She is too young to listen to music on headphones, as it will impair her precious hearing. I will end up having to keep track of it and deal with the crying and freaking out when it is lost/stolen/broken. There are lots of reason why she is too young for her own MP3 player. But, alas, even though I had this conversation with her, I did not know that I also needed to have this conversation with her Daddy.
Daddy ordered her an MP3 player online last week. He didn't tell me that he was getting ready to or that he had. No. Maia told me right before she went to sleep, as I was laying next to her. She whispered with a truly mischievous tone "Daddy ordered my MP3 player." To which I replied "What?" And she repeated "Daddy ordered my MP3 player." I was too tired to care at that point in the evening and just muttered to her to go to sleep. And we are now awaiting the arrival of the MP3 player via UPS or Fed Ex anytime this week. I mentioned to my Beloved that I didn't think that an MP3 player for Maia was a good idea. And I mentioned all of the reasons that I didn't think it was a good idea. But it was too late by then, so we decided that stuff like this will need to be discussed ahead of time from now on and that she will have to learn to not play us like that in the future.
Right. I have a feeling that this is only the beginning of her playing us... and when you have a 6 year old who has started her own ebay business, what else can you expect??
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