Today (8-11-08) I ordered some Space Bags over the phone (versus dragging 5 kids to Target). That darn converter box with its new channels!!! One of the Channel 50s has these awesome product commercials. I’m not usually one to order from the TV, but even those pancake puffs have us all salivating!
I can’t wait to put tubs of kid clothes in Space Bags and suck the air right outta those things with my vacuum! And put all my maternity clothes in one of the hanging bags and watch it shrink! It’s like Shrinky Dinks for clothes! Oh, the crap I will shrink and cram in my cedar chest! And our hall closet … I am getting giddy thinking about shrinking all those coats and jackets at the start of each summer! I think the fine print on the commercial even said the Space Bags will somehow make me thin and rich.
Update: The paper trail in my home is getting smaller, despite my procrastinating.
And we plan to have a mini garage sale/Kool-aid stand this Thursday and Friday since we live by a school and school starts Thursday. It’s mostly books, videos and clothes, but what doesn’t sell I’m donating or taking to Half Price Books.
I’m already a more patient mom with less to clean and organize, and I have obviously found time to write.
Expecting in the mail: homeschool curriculum, our repaired digital camera, and SPACE BAGS!!!!!!!!!!!
Wednesday, August 13, 2008
A Day in My Life: Friday, 8-8-08
Joel’s little girl friend Alex spent the night, and the natives were getting restless in the afternoon. I don’t leave the house anymore unless I know I am in a very patient mood, and I was doing okay today.
Sooo … I threw them all 5 in the van.
First stop was Micro Center for a converter box because I refuse to get cable or a new TV. Got the box, then there was a long line at checkout, and Alex loudly states, “Someone farted!!!!!” (wasn’t me this time, thankfully). Finally we get to a checker, and he tells me we have to buy the box over at Exchanges.
So I drag everyone over THERE, throw the box down on the counter, throw my $40 off coupon down, then throw my keys down. The guy takes my coupon and DISAPPEARS for like 5 minutes. He comes back with some papers and a woman and starts to ring me up. I ask them what the hell? I saw their lips moving but all I heard was “government contract, ring you up as a business, blah blah blah.” What they REALLLY meant was that the government has to keep track of everyone with this digital TV smokescreen business. I’m no fool. I know there’s a camera inside that converter box watching my every move. Ha!
Next stop: Michael’s Arts and Crafts. Joel got some river pebbles (more stuff!!!) with his allowance. I got the others some crafty stuff to keep them busy, and Eva just HAD TO HAVE this little pink tin with an “E” on it (she's only 8 months old!). Yes, I realize that I contribute to the “stuff” delinquency of minors.
Sooo … I threw them all 5 in the van.
First stop was Micro Center for a converter box because I refuse to get cable or a new TV. Got the box, then there was a long line at checkout, and Alex loudly states, “Someone farted!!!!!” (wasn’t me this time, thankfully). Finally we get to a checker, and he tells me we have to buy the box over at Exchanges.
So I drag everyone over THERE, throw the box down on the counter, throw my $40 off coupon down, then throw my keys down. The guy takes my coupon and DISAPPEARS for like 5 minutes. He comes back with some papers and a woman and starts to ring me up. I ask them what the hell? I saw their lips moving but all I heard was “government contract, ring you up as a business, blah blah blah.” What they REALLLY meant was that the government has to keep track of everyone with this digital TV smokescreen business. I’m no fool. I know there’s a camera inside that converter box watching my every move. Ha!
Next stop: Michael’s Arts and Crafts. Joel got some river pebbles (more stuff!!!) with his allowance. I got the others some crafty stuff to keep them busy, and Eva just HAD TO HAVE this little pink tin with an “E” on it (she's only 8 months old!). Yes, I realize that I contribute to the “stuff” delinquency of minors.
By this time Eva was whipped, so I nursed her to sleep in the van and the kids occupied themselves like little angels … yeah, right!
I had an ulterior motive for taking on the next errand to Whole Foods: Bach’s Rescue Remedy, a natural stress reliever in gummy-like form. I ripped it open right after the checker scanned it because shopping with 5 kids and 3 carts is truly an adventure. More on Whole Foods later, so don’t make fun of me just yet.
To cap off the night we went to the pool. After some chilly swimming and “Closin’ Time,” we hit the park. Aron called while we were there to say he was at the airport in Phoenix … yippee! Help is on the way!
Saturday, August 9, 2008
Freaky #2: Breastfeeding (ecological and tandem)
FYI: if you are not a breastfeeder, I DON’T CARE. After all, the host of The Kerrie Show was never breastfed, and look how she turned out!!! (you may draw your own conclusions here). I am not here to judge you, only to tell my own story.
When Joel was born I had trouble nursing. I won’t go into detail, in case my poor dad decides to visit the show again after storming out on the episode about the family bed. Let’s just say there were many tears and contraptions, and I almost gave up. Once we got home and he DID latch on, I was in pain. He ate every 2 hours, and I would sit with my Boppy pillow and read and try not to fall asleep. After a couple of weeks I got the hang of it and have been breastfeeding ever since (7 + years).
After Michael was born, I was still nursing Joel to get him to sleep for his naps and bedtime and couldn’t imagine booting him off the boob. Like they say on Project Runway, we “made it work,” a.k.a. tandem nursing. Actually, Joel made it work. He wasn’t even 2 years old and figured out ways to nurse while Michael did. Eventually they were holding hands and grinning at each other while they nursed to sleep.
Michael, however, was not going to share at almost 2 years of age. When Callie was born he wouldn’t nurse with her, so he weaned himself quickly and angrily. I’ve told him I’ll pay half of his therapy bills someday.
We purposely put an extra year in between the girls, so Callie was almost 3 when Eva was born and was mostly weaned, except for at bedtime. The day after Eva was born, Callie tried to nurse, giggled and hasn’t nursed again.
Ecological breastfeeding means a few things to me:
-- Human Pacifier. I nursed the babies when they were hungry or sleepy. I’m with my babies all the time and rarely leave them, and I do that with no resentments, most of the time!
-- Birth control. There’s only a very slim chance I’ll get pregnant soon after delivering a baby. I’ve gone an entire year between each kid without a period. If you get pregnant while breastfeeding soon after giving birth, it’s probably because you are supplementing with bottles, pumping (your body is not stupid; it knows the difference between a machine and your baby), or feeding baby food or cereal.
-- Extended nursing. The longest I’ve nursed was almost 3 years. I’ve heard that in Jesus’ time, weaning at age 3 was the norm. Interesting.
These days I’m all tricked out in a nursing swimsuit courtesy of my friend Ellen. It’s nice not toting bottles and formula around; I always have Eva’s food ready. And it’s FREE. I figure I’ve saved our family thousands of dollars, which I happily spend on … chocolate.
When Joel was born I had trouble nursing. I won’t go into detail, in case my poor dad decides to visit the show again after storming out on the episode about the family bed. Let’s just say there were many tears and contraptions, and I almost gave up. Once we got home and he DID latch on, I was in pain. He ate every 2 hours, and I would sit with my Boppy pillow and read and try not to fall asleep. After a couple of weeks I got the hang of it and have been breastfeeding ever since (7 + years).
After Michael was born, I was still nursing Joel to get him to sleep for his naps and bedtime and couldn’t imagine booting him off the boob. Like they say on Project Runway, we “made it work,” a.k.a. tandem nursing. Actually, Joel made it work. He wasn’t even 2 years old and figured out ways to nurse while Michael did. Eventually they were holding hands and grinning at each other while they nursed to sleep.
Michael, however, was not going to share at almost 2 years of age. When Callie was born he wouldn’t nurse with her, so he weaned himself quickly and angrily. I’ve told him I’ll pay half of his therapy bills someday.
We purposely put an extra year in between the girls, so Callie was almost 3 when Eva was born and was mostly weaned, except for at bedtime. The day after Eva was born, Callie tried to nurse, giggled and hasn’t nursed again.
Ecological breastfeeding means a few things to me:
-- Human Pacifier. I nursed the babies when they were hungry or sleepy. I’m with my babies all the time and rarely leave them, and I do that with no resentments, most of the time!
-- Birth control. There’s only a very slim chance I’ll get pregnant soon after delivering a baby. I’ve gone an entire year between each kid without a period. If you get pregnant while breastfeeding soon after giving birth, it’s probably because you are supplementing with bottles, pumping (your body is not stupid; it knows the difference between a machine and your baby), or feeding baby food or cereal.
-- Extended nursing. The longest I’ve nursed was almost 3 years. I’ve heard that in Jesus’ time, weaning at age 3 was the norm. Interesting.
These days I’m all tricked out in a nursing swimsuit courtesy of my friend Ellen. It’s nice not toting bottles and formula around; I always have Eva’s food ready. And it’s FREE. I figure I’ve saved our family thousands of dollars, which I happily spend on … chocolate.
Photos from the 1970s
I'm trying to buy some time while I work on the rest of the Freaky Things, so here are some photos from the 1970s (above is my mom and my dad's grandma, who I called Nanny) ...
Below is me in California at age 6. I still look like this when I wake up, and there's always a kid next to me ...
Dad, Kerrie and Mom
Great Aunt Eva Michael Wilkerson, the woman I named my 2nd baby girl after ...
Monday, August 4, 2008
I'm Not Going to Cry When He Leaves
Written 8/3/08 Sunday night
Tonight starts Week 12 of what was supposed to be a 10-week travel schedule.
I’m not going to cry this time when I watch his truck drive down the road toward the airport.
I’m not going to go buy a pack of cigarettes and then only smoke one and give the rest to a homeless woman in Albuquerque (I’ll tell that story another time).
I’m not going to make an amaretto sour.
I’m not going to make cookie dough.
I’m going to do something productive: wrestle with the kids, work on that article about how hotels need to go “green”, mow the grass, tackle the 2-foot (seriously) stack of papers on my desk.
Later … instead of all that we all 5 packed into the van and drove to Aron’s* work to post blog entries and look up facts about rocks for Joel. Someone had brought in a ton of peaches for anyone to take, so we took a dozen to make cobbler and give a few to my mom (my stepdad hates fruit, isn’t that strange?!).
Someone had stolen my husband’s mouse off his desk. He’s been there almost 10 years and people still swipe his stuff! Someone also took his chair a few weeks ago. I told him to carve his name into the underside of the next chair he loves so he can hunt it down and kill whoever takes it. It’s things like that that make me REALLY glad I’m not in the working world anymore!
I am now going to break something to all of you that may come as a shock. Deep breath. Here it is: I AM NOT PERFECT. Whew. Felt good to get that out. On a SUNDAY, no less, (more on our Sunday blue laws some other time), I took us to McDonald’s for fries and Cokes. Comfort food. I am a bad mother, but we were all fat and happy for the few hours until bedtime.
*yes, I’m letting down my paranoid guard about revealing names
Tonight starts Week 12 of what was supposed to be a 10-week travel schedule.
I’m not going to cry this time when I watch his truck drive down the road toward the airport.
I’m not going to go buy a pack of cigarettes and then only smoke one and give the rest to a homeless woman in Albuquerque (I’ll tell that story another time).
I’m not going to make an amaretto sour.
I’m not going to make cookie dough.
I’m going to do something productive: wrestle with the kids, work on that article about how hotels need to go “green”, mow the grass, tackle the 2-foot (seriously) stack of papers on my desk.
Later … instead of all that we all 5 packed into the van and drove to Aron’s* work to post blog entries and look up facts about rocks for Joel. Someone had brought in a ton of peaches for anyone to take, so we took a dozen to make cobbler and give a few to my mom (my stepdad hates fruit, isn’t that strange?!).
Someone had stolen my husband’s mouse off his desk. He’s been there almost 10 years and people still swipe his stuff! Someone also took his chair a few weeks ago. I told him to carve his name into the underside of the next chair he loves so he can hunt it down and kill whoever takes it. It’s things like that that make me REALLY glad I’m not in the working world anymore!
I am now going to break something to all of you that may come as a shock. Deep breath. Here it is: I AM NOT PERFECT. Whew. Felt good to get that out. On a SUNDAY, no less, (more on our Sunday blue laws some other time), I took us to McDonald’s for fries and Cokes. Comfort food. I am a bad mother, but we were all fat and happy for the few hours until bedtime.
*yes, I’m letting down my paranoid guard about revealing names
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