Another fucking argument with That Canadian Boy I Married about depression and what I can do to fix it. The $65 co-pay for Cymbalta will throw a massive wrench into our already-precarious finances but the depression is taking an even bigger toll.
His answer, after telling me he didn't think he needed to feel any sympathy or understanding for me, was that I should re-try all the anti-depressants I've already tried and already had documented reactions to - for some reason, he seems to think that my body chemistry will have changed and I won't have the same reactions to those drugs now. Mr. fucking physician, I guess.
These arguments leave me so drained. He doesn't get it, doesn't see the need to get it and honestly thinks I should just be able to say "Hey, self, stop feeling that way" and I will be fine. If only it were that easy. I try to explain it to him, try to talk to him about it and he just placates me by telling me that he understands. But then we have another one of these arguments and his true feelings show. He doesn't want to discuss it with a professional; he doesn't see the point.
I don't tell him a lot of what I'm feeling because of this. Of the times I flirt with taking the whole bottle of over-the-counter sleeping pills, of the wish that I could just go bat-shit crazy and be done with it. I know that he'd leave if I did go nuts. And while I'd survive that, I wouldn't survive him probably trying to take the kids away, which I'm sure he'd want to do - and it would be kind of understandable.
So I told him I'd make the damned phone call to the damned doctor and talk to her about it. I'm 99.9% sure that there's nothing new out there, that I've tried them all, but whatever. If it will shut him up and get him off my back, I'll do it. If that's the only way I can justify the $65 a month, so be it.
It pisses me off, though, this constant need of his to piss and moan about the cost of prescriptions for something he doesn't deem real. These are the times that I wish I could just swap bodies with him for a day, so he could live inside my head and see what a muddled mess it is in there, so he could see how I really feel most days, how difficult this is to handle without medication. Maybe then he might muster some of his nearly non-existent sympathy for what I'm going through.
Thursday, May 28, 2009
Sunday, May 17, 2009
I'm Not Becoming A Food Blogger, I Swear
Shepherd's Pie (for Wendy)
2 lbs ground beef
1 large or 2 small onions
Mushrooms, if you have them, sliced
Salt & pepper
Worcestershire sauce
A1 sauce
2 1 lb bags of frozen corn (or fresh, if it's in season)
4 or so lbs of russet potatoes, peeled and cut into approximately 1" pieces
1 head of garlic, if you want roasted garlic mashed potatoes on top
1 stick of butter
Milk
If you want roasted garlic in your mashed, start the garlic first. Preheat oven to 350. Peel as much paper off the bulb as possible and slice off the top. Put in a small oven proof dish and pour in enough olive oil to reach halfway up the bulb. I use a small Pyrex bowl for this. Bake for 45 minutes, until garlic is soft. Allow to cool before removing cloves with a paring knife. Restrain yourself from smearing it all over the nearest slice of Italian bread and wolfing it down....
Chop onions into small pieces and saute with sliced mushrooms in 2 tablespoons olive oil and 2 tablespoons butter, until caramelized - do not burn them, or it will get ugly. Remove from pan.
Brown ground beef with salt and pepper. I usually add a couple of tablespoons of Worcestershire sauce and a couple of tablespoons of A1 sauce to the meat - taste it as you go and adjust according to your taste. If the beef gives off a lot of grease, spoon most of it off. Don't dump it down your sink or you will have a big mess.
Stir onions and mushrooms into the beef and then transfer to a 13 x 9" Pyrex dish.
Top with 2 small bags of frozen corn.
Boil potatoes until they can be split by a fork. Drain and return to pot. Add about a stick of butter (did I mention this is not a low-fat, low calorie recipe?), salt to taste (potatoes need a lot of salt), a splash of milk and the roasted garlic (mash it up with a fork first). Whip with a hand mixer until there are no lumps. Try not to eat too many of the potatoes before topping the pie.
Spoon on to top of the corn and bake in a 400 oven until the potatoes are golden brown and delicious. Eat.
2 lbs ground beef
1 large or 2 small onions
Mushrooms, if you have them, sliced
Salt & pepper
Worcestershire sauce
A1 sauce
2 1 lb bags of frozen corn (or fresh, if it's in season)
4 or so lbs of russet potatoes, peeled and cut into approximately 1" pieces
1 head of garlic, if you want roasted garlic mashed potatoes on top
1 stick of butter
Milk
If you want roasted garlic in your mashed, start the garlic first. Preheat oven to 350. Peel as much paper off the bulb as possible and slice off the top. Put in a small oven proof dish and pour in enough olive oil to reach halfway up the bulb. I use a small Pyrex bowl for this. Bake for 45 minutes, until garlic is soft. Allow to cool before removing cloves with a paring knife. Restrain yourself from smearing it all over the nearest slice of Italian bread and wolfing it down....
Chop onions into small pieces and saute with sliced mushrooms in 2 tablespoons olive oil and 2 tablespoons butter, until caramelized - do not burn them, or it will get ugly. Remove from pan.
Brown ground beef with salt and pepper. I usually add a couple of tablespoons of Worcestershire sauce and a couple of tablespoons of A1 sauce to the meat - taste it as you go and adjust according to your taste. If the beef gives off a lot of grease, spoon most of it off. Don't dump it down your sink or you will have a big mess.
Stir onions and mushrooms into the beef and then transfer to a 13 x 9" Pyrex dish.
Top with 2 small bags of frozen corn.
Boil potatoes until they can be split by a fork. Drain and return to pot. Add about a stick of butter (did I mention this is not a low-fat, low calorie recipe?), salt to taste (potatoes need a lot of salt), a splash of milk and the roasted garlic (mash it up with a fork first). Whip with a hand mixer until there are no lumps. Try not to eat too many of the potatoes before topping the pie.
Spoon on to top of the corn and bake in a 400 oven until the potatoes are golden brown and delicious. Eat.
Not Entirely Unexpected
My son A is 20 and I don't discuss him often on here because, most of the time, there isn't much to talk about. He works full time, he lives with his girlfriend, he doesn't drink, his major vice is buying toys - a flip video camera, a Wii, an X-Box, a Garmin - typical young man stuff to buy.
About six or seven weeks ago, however, he told everyone that he and his girlfriend were going to get married. In June. And everyone asked "Is she pregnant?" but we were all assured that no, she wasn't.
No surprises, but yeah, she is.
I can barely wrap my head around it, let alone talk about it. Financially, they aren't all that secure. She works for a fast food restaurant and he works in a warehouse - their jobs are steady, but they don't pay well at all. She makes less per hour than I did when I had A 20 years ago.
I have so many concerns about this situation. I do not think they'll be bad parents, far from it. But I do worry about how financially stable they're going to be. It's nerve-wracking not having enough money; we're still having trouble catching up some months. I don't want A going thru that same thing, I want better for him.
And selfishly, I am not ready to be a grandmother. Just a couple of weeks ago, I was worried that I might be pregnant (which, given that That Canadian Boy I Married has been snipped, is highly unlikely, but 10 days late is 10 days late). And now my son's going to have a baby. It's fucking with my head. And yeah, yeah, I know, I'm being self-centered. This is pretty much the only place I can be like that, though. Here and the therapist's couch and boy, did she get an earful last week.
About six or seven weeks ago, however, he told everyone that he and his girlfriend were going to get married. In June. And everyone asked "Is she pregnant?" but we were all assured that no, she wasn't.
No surprises, but yeah, she is.
I can barely wrap my head around it, let alone talk about it. Financially, they aren't all that secure. She works for a fast food restaurant and he works in a warehouse - their jobs are steady, but they don't pay well at all. She makes less per hour than I did when I had A 20 years ago.
I have so many concerns about this situation. I do not think they'll be bad parents, far from it. But I do worry about how financially stable they're going to be. It's nerve-wracking not having enough money; we're still having trouble catching up some months. I don't want A going thru that same thing, I want better for him.
And selfishly, I am not ready to be a grandmother. Just a couple of weeks ago, I was worried that I might be pregnant (which, given that That Canadian Boy I Married has been snipped, is highly unlikely, but 10 days late is 10 days late). And now my son's going to have a baby. It's fucking with my head. And yeah, yeah, I know, I'm being self-centered. This is pretty much the only place I can be like that, though. Here and the therapist's couch and boy, did she get an earful last week.
Friday, May 08, 2009
Hip Mamas
There are these women whose children go to the same preschool as Boo. They intimidate the hell out of me. They're very nice and very cool, in that casual, crunchy way that is so prevalent out here. They wear cool skirts and have funky haircuts and seem to have it all together. I realize this is probably an illusion, but still. I don't know them well enough to hear their tales of woe, so, to me, they're scary-together.
I see them hanging out after pick up, talking, arranging play dates and what have you and I know if I made a little bit of effort, I'd at least be included in the conversation. But I never do. I smile, I say hello, exchange a couple of sentences and then I scuttle to my car with the girls, mentally berating myself for not being more outgoing, for not trying harder. For being an idiot. Because the other part of my brain, the one that tells me what a dork I am, how much of a loser I am, always takes over at that point. Why would anyone want to include me? What if they didn't, what if they just clammed up when I tried to join in? What if they were just waiting for me to leave so they could make their plans? What if they don't really like me?
That's the crux of it right there. I'm pretty convinced that most people I know casually don't really like me. Sometimes, even people I do know well give me that feeling. I let every rejection eat away at me, dragging up crap that happened in high school, in college, and picking at it until it hurts again, convinced that all those people were right, that basically, I'm unlikeable. I hate that my mind goes down those paths. I wish I knew how to get it out of them.
So I'm wary. I'm afraid to make friends with people I meet, afraid that they'll turn out like everyone else, that they'll leave too. I wall myself off behind snark and sarcasm and a pose that I'm above it all, when really, I just want to be included. More than included. Valued. Appreciated for who I am and what I can offer as a friend. And yet, I'm too afraid to try.
Yes, I'm in therapy. Yes, I'm trying to work on this, but I feel so stuck on this one thing. How do you just get self-confidence? How do you not second- and third-guess every action you take? I'm not sure if it's even possible, but I need to try, before I really go bat-shit crazy.
I see them hanging out after pick up, talking, arranging play dates and what have you and I know if I made a little bit of effort, I'd at least be included in the conversation. But I never do. I smile, I say hello, exchange a couple of sentences and then I scuttle to my car with the girls, mentally berating myself for not being more outgoing, for not trying harder. For being an idiot. Because the other part of my brain, the one that tells me what a dork I am, how much of a loser I am, always takes over at that point. Why would anyone want to include me? What if they didn't, what if they just clammed up when I tried to join in? What if they were just waiting for me to leave so they could make their plans? What if they don't really like me?
That's the crux of it right there. I'm pretty convinced that most people I know casually don't really like me. Sometimes, even people I do know well give me that feeling. I let every rejection eat away at me, dragging up crap that happened in high school, in college, and picking at it until it hurts again, convinced that all those people were right, that basically, I'm unlikeable. I hate that my mind goes down those paths. I wish I knew how to get it out of them.
So I'm wary. I'm afraid to make friends with people I meet, afraid that they'll turn out like everyone else, that they'll leave too. I wall myself off behind snark and sarcasm and a pose that I'm above it all, when really, I just want to be included. More than included. Valued. Appreciated for who I am and what I can offer as a friend. And yet, I'm too afraid to try.
Yes, I'm in therapy. Yes, I'm trying to work on this, but I feel so stuck on this one thing. How do you just get self-confidence? How do you not second- and third-guess every action you take? I'm not sure if it's even possible, but I need to try, before I really go bat-shit crazy.
Wednesday, April 29, 2009
Doin' The iPod Shuffle
Swiped from George, because, hey, if you can't steal from your friends, who can you steal from?
Put your iPod (or music player of choice - I did mine thru iTunes) on shuffle and list the first 20 songs that come up.
1. Stay (Far Away, So Close) - U2 (I'd forgotten about this song. Lovely lyrics - Red light, grey morning, you stumble out of a hole in the ground)
2. Hungry Heart - Bruce Springsteen (Bruuuuuuuuuuuce!)
3. R.E.M. - Losing My Religion (lost it a long time ago....)
4. Ocean Breathes Salty - Modest Mouse
5. That's Just The Way We Roll - Jonas Brothers (good god, this band is the bane of my existence)
6. Stir It Up - Bob Marley
7. Rock Star Poser - N.E.R.D. (I have no clue how this wound up in my iTunes library)
8. Boys From The County Hell - The Pogues (I love this band. Love. Them.)
9. One Piece At A Time - Johnny Cash (Ironic, considering the state of the auto industry today)
10. Bent - Matchbox 20 (This could be my theme song. Also, Rob Thomas. *drool*)
11. Right As Rain - Adele (Fantastic album of torch songs.)
12. Uncle John's Band - Jimmy Buffett (Love this song. Haaaaate this cover of it.)
13. Man In A Suitcase - The Police
14. Aeroplane - Red Hot Chili Peppers
15. Space Intro - Steve Miller Band
16. De ja Vu - Crosby, Still, Nash & Young
17. Hey Tonight - Creedence Clearwater Revival (Jeez, after these last three, I feel like we should all be sitting around getting baked, eating brownies and pop rocks. What? Isn't that what college was for? No?)
18. It's A Shame About Ray - The Lemonheads
19. Street Fighting Man - Rage Against The Machine
20. Hallelujah - Jeff Buckley (Great. So I can cry at the end of this meme.)
Put your iPod (or music player of choice - I did mine thru iTunes) on shuffle and list the first 20 songs that come up.
1. Stay (Far Away, So Close) - U2 (I'd forgotten about this song. Lovely lyrics - Red light, grey morning, you stumble out of a hole in the ground)
2. Hungry Heart - Bruce Springsteen (Bruuuuuuuuuuuce!)
3. R.E.M. - Losing My Religion (lost it a long time ago....)
4. Ocean Breathes Salty - Modest Mouse
5. That's Just The Way We Roll - Jonas Brothers (good god, this band is the bane of my existence)
6. Stir It Up - Bob Marley
7. Rock Star Poser - N.E.R.D. (I have no clue how this wound up in my iTunes library)
8. Boys From The County Hell - The Pogues (I love this band. Love. Them.)
9. One Piece At A Time - Johnny Cash (Ironic, considering the state of the auto industry today)
10. Bent - Matchbox 20 (This could be my theme song. Also, Rob Thomas. *drool*)
11. Right As Rain - Adele (Fantastic album of torch songs.)
12. Uncle John's Band - Jimmy Buffett (Love this song. Haaaaate this cover of it.)
13. Man In A Suitcase - The Police
14. Aeroplane - Red Hot Chili Peppers
15. Space Intro - Steve Miller Band
16. De ja Vu - Crosby, Still, Nash & Young
17. Hey Tonight - Creedence Clearwater Revival (Jeez, after these last three, I feel like we should all be sitting around getting baked, eating brownies and pop rocks. What? Isn't that what college was for? No?)
18. It's A Shame About Ray - The Lemonheads
19. Street Fighting Man - Rage Against The Machine
20. Hallelujah - Jeff Buckley (Great. So I can cry at the end of this meme.)
Second Verse, Same As The First
Hey, look! A blog post.
Wake up around 6:30.
Stumble downstairs and make a pot of industrial strength coffee.
Dress the Shriek Sisters.
Move dry clothes to a basket, move wet clothes to the dryer, put in another load of laundry.
Mediate fight #1 between the Shriek Sisters.
Fold the dry clothes.
Think about taking a shower.
Brush teeth.
Try to unclog the bathroom sink that I've been after the husband to fix for the last couple of weeks.
Mediate fight #2 between the Shriek Sisters.
Take the trash to the curb that the husband forgot to take when he left at 7 a.m..
Take the recycling to the curb that the husband forgot to take when he left at 7 a.m..
Mediate fight #3 between the Shriek Sisters.
Find the socks that the Shriek Sisters lost in one of their fights.
Find shoes for the Shriek Sisters.
Sign permission slip for O's trip next week.
Find money for O's trip next week.
Find jackets for the Shriek Sisters.
Pour industrial strength coffee into the only travel mug the husband hasn't swiped. He hasn't swiped it because it's hot pink. It was my only defense.
Load the Shriek Sisters into their car seats.
Drive O to school. Drink industrial strength coffee. Curse stoplights. Answer 8.7 million questions from the Shriek Sisters.
Come back home.
Feed the Shriek Sisters breakfast.
Feed the dog and cat.
Move dry clothes to basket, move wet clothes to dryer, put in another load of laundry.
Wash a few dishes.
Mediate fight #4 between the Shriek Sisters.
Vacuum up the Cheerios that the Shriek Sisters flung at each other during fight #4.
And it's only 8:15 a.m..
My days continue like this, with small variations, every single day. It's mind numbing in its tedium and I feel like it's sucking what little brain power I have left. And I wonder why I can't find anything to blog about any more. This is it, this is what I have going on right now. I'm busy, busy, busy but I have nothing going on. Nothing of interest, anyway.
I'm getting to the point of fantasizing about quiet places, places where no one asks me anything, where no one needs me for anything, where I can do whatever I want, whenever I want. Not for forever, just for a couple of days. I told my husband the other night that my ideal vacation right now would involve a hotel room with a big bath tub, a comfortable bed and a stack of books. I would sleep and read and make the occasional foray out for food and a bit of a walk around and that would be it.
I really need a break. Or something. I'm spending too much time wishing too many things away, wishing that the girls were in school full time, wishing that I could get a full-time job during the day so that I wasn't sitting here, feeling guilty about the state of things here, the chaos and the mess and the boredom. I know that things will be different in a couple of years and then I'll probably miss some of this time that I have at home with them, but right now, while I'm in it, I'm having trouble seeing the end of it. It's disheartening, to say the least.
Wake up around 6:30.
Stumble downstairs and make a pot of industrial strength coffee.
Dress the Shriek Sisters.
Move dry clothes to a basket, move wet clothes to the dryer, put in another load of laundry.
Mediate fight #1 between the Shriek Sisters.
Fold the dry clothes.
Think about taking a shower.
Brush teeth.
Try to unclog the bathroom sink that I've been after the husband to fix for the last couple of weeks.
Mediate fight #2 between the Shriek Sisters.
Take the trash to the curb that the husband forgot to take when he left at 7 a.m..
Take the recycling to the curb that the husband forgot to take when he left at 7 a.m..
Mediate fight #3 between the Shriek Sisters.
Find the socks that the Shriek Sisters lost in one of their fights.
Find shoes for the Shriek Sisters.
Sign permission slip for O's trip next week.
Find money for O's trip next week.
Find jackets for the Shriek Sisters.
Pour industrial strength coffee into the only travel mug the husband hasn't swiped. He hasn't swiped it because it's hot pink. It was my only defense.
Load the Shriek Sisters into their car seats.
Drive O to school. Drink industrial strength coffee. Curse stoplights. Answer 8.7 million questions from the Shriek Sisters.
Come back home.
Feed the Shriek Sisters breakfast.
Feed the dog and cat.
Move dry clothes to basket, move wet clothes to dryer, put in another load of laundry.
Wash a few dishes.
Mediate fight #4 between the Shriek Sisters.
Vacuum up the Cheerios that the Shriek Sisters flung at each other during fight #4.
And it's only 8:15 a.m..
My days continue like this, with small variations, every single day. It's mind numbing in its tedium and I feel like it's sucking what little brain power I have left. And I wonder why I can't find anything to blog about any more. This is it, this is what I have going on right now. I'm busy, busy, busy but I have nothing going on. Nothing of interest, anyway.
I'm getting to the point of fantasizing about quiet places, places where no one asks me anything, where no one needs me for anything, where I can do whatever I want, whenever I want. Not for forever, just for a couple of days. I told my husband the other night that my ideal vacation right now would involve a hotel room with a big bath tub, a comfortable bed and a stack of books. I would sleep and read and make the occasional foray out for food and a bit of a walk around and that would be it.
I really need a break. Or something. I'm spending too much time wishing too many things away, wishing that the girls were in school full time, wishing that I could get a full-time job during the day so that I wasn't sitting here, feeling guilty about the state of things here, the chaos and the mess and the boredom. I know that things will be different in a couple of years and then I'll probably miss some of this time that I have at home with them, but right now, while I'm in it, I'm having trouble seeing the end of it. It's disheartening, to say the least.
Monday, April 20, 2009
Mojo Mom
I'm not usually one for self-help books, but Mojo Mom, by Amy Tiemann, is so much more than that. It's a book that allows a woman to realize that, yes, this mothering gig really is as hard as we think it is, that we aren't nuts for feeling the way we do and then laying out some concrete, reasonable steps for ways to reclaim some of ourselves as we also raise our families. I've never seen another parenting book like it - it's the only one that addresses what the mother (and, to a certain extent, the father) feels during the long years of parenting.
Each chapter has a theme, some featuring activities you can do at home. The author cites her resources at the end of every chapter, something I found very helpful, as she also gives a one- or two-line blurb about each book, stating why she liked it or what she found helpful about it. I can see this becoming a list I take with me to the library or bookshop in the future. Some of her sources sound like must-reads. She also lists websites and blogs to check out, something moms who are immersed in the online world (*ahem* me *ahem*) will find useful.
The chapter on financial security was interesting and pertinent now, considering the financial mess we're in. Even if you don't have much in the way of spare cash (like me), there is a lot of useful advice packed in there. I also found the chapter on the mommy wars to be timely.
One of the major messages in this book is that the media and society in general have built up this myth of the perfect mom and that we are being sold a bill of goods in trying to live up to that image. It's unrealistic and self-defeating and we do ourselves no favours in trying to become an ideal. This is something that most moms know, but often allow themselves to forget as the relentless barrage of messages hits us every day. This books posits that we will be better mothers if we let some of the stuff slide and focus more on rejuvenating ourselves, that by allowing ourselves time to reclaim some of our pre-mom self, we will become better mothers. This is something I've come to realize over the years, although I've often found it very hard to accomplish.
Mojo Mom is a quick read, but one that deserves a place on the bedside table. It's something I can see myself dipping into as needed and it's definitely one that I would give to an expecting or new mom.
This is a MotherTalk book review. To read more reviews on this and other titles, please visit MotherTalk.
In Which I Brag, Then Beg
On Friday morning, after doing a few things around the house, I took the Shriek Sisters down to Home Depot to pick up some potting soil and seeds. They've been wanting to do some planting for a while now and it's finally warming up enough that we can.
$26 later and we had a 30 lb bag of potting soil, three types of tomato seeds, some flower seeds and some peat pots. I found some kid-sized shovels in the shed and we got started. For an hour, we filled pots and put seeds in and it was fantastic. There was no fighting, no hitting, no shrieking, just fun. And now we have tomatoes and herbs going. When it warms up enough to sow them directly into the ground, we'll plant some morning glories around the light pole. I also want to put in some lily of the valley in the front, where it's shady, and get try to do some peppers, squash and cucumbers in pots. I'm not sure how well they'll do planted that way but between the dog and two small children, putting in a bed in the back yard doesn't seem feasible. Besides, I don't want to dig. I'm a very lazy gardener - If I can manage to avoid digging and weeding, I'm all over planting things. Some day, when I have money, I'm going to do raised beds, but right now, container gardening is it.
Saturday I took the girls up to Yankee Candle. I'm not really fond of the stinky candles, but the flagship store has a huge Christmas section and I figured the girls would love it. They ran from one room to another, admiring the displays and being awed by the koi pond and snow room. In the toy room, they lost their little minds when they saw Santa there, putting stuffing into the stuffed animals. They played with the display toys and listened to me and were altogether wonderful to hang out with. I told them they could get a treat in the general store section, figuring they'd want a small toy or something, but no. They wanted candy canes. Whee! I managed to get out of there for under $6 - 2 candy canes and three wax tarts for me.
All-in-all, it was a great weekend. I had to work, of course, but the time I was able to spend with the girls was really pleasant. It's such a nice change from the whine-fest that usually happens around here. I am somewhat hopeful that Boo may be leaving that stage behind, although The Bug seems to be entering it. Still. Having one kid whining is much better than both of them going at it at once. I'm sure this is going to be an off and on thing, but really, the last couple of days have been such a relief, we've gotten along so well that I feel like I have a couple of new children.
And now for my plea. I'm a huge fan of Joss Whedon (Buffy, how I love thee!) and I've been watching Dollhouse and loving it, but of course, Fox is wishy-washy about renewing it. I don't know what their problem is - they did this with Firefly, too, which was an excellent show. I am going to be pissed off if they cancel it. Another blogger I read is also angry about it and has written an excellent post on the topic, complete with suggestions on how to boost the ratings and prevent the show from being canceled. If you're a fan, I urge you to go over there and check out his post (and the rest of his blog - it's a good one, although I'm not sure why he's got an explicit rating on it.) Anyway. Joss Whedon. Dollhouse. Save it.
*edited to add: Here's Joss Whedon himself, weighing in on the subject.
$26 later and we had a 30 lb bag of potting soil, three types of tomato seeds, some flower seeds and some peat pots. I found some kid-sized shovels in the shed and we got started. For an hour, we filled pots and put seeds in and it was fantastic. There was no fighting, no hitting, no shrieking, just fun. And now we have tomatoes and herbs going. When it warms up enough to sow them directly into the ground, we'll plant some morning glories around the light pole. I also want to put in some lily of the valley in the front, where it's shady, and get try to do some peppers, squash and cucumbers in pots. I'm not sure how well they'll do planted that way but between the dog and two small children, putting in a bed in the back yard doesn't seem feasible. Besides, I don't want to dig. I'm a very lazy gardener - If I can manage to avoid digging and weeding, I'm all over planting things. Some day, when I have money, I'm going to do raised beds, but right now, container gardening is it.
Saturday I took the girls up to Yankee Candle. I'm not really fond of the stinky candles, but the flagship store has a huge Christmas section and I figured the girls would love it. They ran from one room to another, admiring the displays and being awed by the koi pond and snow room. In the toy room, they lost their little minds when they saw Santa there, putting stuffing into the stuffed animals. They played with the display toys and listened to me and were altogether wonderful to hang out with. I told them they could get a treat in the general store section, figuring they'd want a small toy or something, but no. They wanted candy canes. Whee! I managed to get out of there for under $6 - 2 candy canes and three wax tarts for me.
All-in-all, it was a great weekend. I had to work, of course, but the time I was able to spend with the girls was really pleasant. It's such a nice change from the whine-fest that usually happens around here. I am somewhat hopeful that Boo may be leaving that stage behind, although The Bug seems to be entering it. Still. Having one kid whining is much better than both of them going at it at once. I'm sure this is going to be an off and on thing, but really, the last couple of days have been such a relief, we've gotten along so well that I feel like I have a couple of new children.
And now for my plea. I'm a huge fan of Joss Whedon (Buffy, how I love thee!) and I've been watching Dollhouse and loving it, but of course, Fox is wishy-washy about renewing it. I don't know what their problem is - they did this with Firefly, too, which was an excellent show. I am going to be pissed off if they cancel it. Another blogger I read is also angry about it and has written an excellent post on the topic, complete with suggestions on how to boost the ratings and prevent the show from being canceled. If you're a fan, I urge you to go over there and check out his post (and the rest of his blog - it's a good one, although I'm not sure why he's got an explicit rating on it.) Anyway. Joss Whedon. Dollhouse. Save it.
*edited to add: Here's Joss Whedon himself, weighing in on the subject.
Wednesday, April 15, 2009
Not Your Typical Toddler Music
Every night, before they go to bed, the girls and I sit on the couch and watch a couple of music videos on the computer. They have a few they request all the time (hello, Killers, please to be making some new music soon before I lose my fucking mind, kthnxbai) but tonight they were grooving to these tunes:
They dig the robots.
A little bit of mad Canadian on the fiddle.
Newfies. Always fun.
And, of course, these guys. At least it wasn't Soul Butter.
They dig the robots.
A little bit of mad Canadian on the fiddle.
Newfies. Always fun.
And, of course, these guys. At least it wasn't Soul Butter.
Tuesday, April 14, 2009
For Madeline
Madeline Spohr will be laid to rest today at 2:30 PST. My thoughts are with her family and her friends. I can't even wrap my brain around how difficult this must me - it leaves me gasping for breath to think about it.
If you haven't donated yet, please consider doing so. The March of Dimes page is here and the PayPal site, to help with hospital and funeral expenses, is here.
But Maddie isn't the only baby lost. Thalon Bruce Meyers died on April 12th. He wasn't quite four months old and once again, my heart breaks. A donation page has been set up for his family as well.
I don't know these families, but my heart hurts for them and my brain rages at the unfairness of it all.
But, on the other side of the coin is this tremendous outpouring of love, time and money for both families. Maddie's March of Dimes walk has raised nearly $30,000, just since last week. Thalon's PayPal account has received $3700 in donations since Monday. People are posting links and pictures and tributes to both children that are touching and heartfelt and raw. People are flying in for funerals and organizing walk-a-thon teams and aggregating links and photos and it's incredible. Simply incredible. Most of this was done via Twitter - you can check out the hash tags for #maddie and #thalon at Twitter.com - and done with a speed bordering on lightning. My mother dismisses things like Twitter and Facebook as a complete waste of time and they can be, but when tragedy strikes, it can also be an incredible place of comfort and friendship and solace. This is what the internet community looks like at its best. It's beautiful.
Wednesday, April 08, 2009
A Little Girl Lost
I didn't know Maddie Spohr. I wasn't a regular reader of her mother's blog, but I'd see her name mentioned or read a comment left somewhere by Heather Spohr and I'd click over to her blog and there would be this little girl, grinning for all she was worth, on her page and it never failed to make me grin in return. She was just so damned adorable.
And now she's gone.
Twitter lit up last night and today as word of Maddie's death flew around the internet. People who knew her, knew her parents, were devastated, their comments and Tweets almost unbearable to read. In amongst all that was a searing anger at the company (Bluehost) that hosted the Spohr's blog - they shut it down because of the influx of comments and have refused, point blank, to reinstate it. Even knowing why the blog was getting so many hits, they refused. Talk about cold-hearted assholes.
I hesitated to post anything about this little girl, feeling that I wasn't a part of the circle of people who knew her, either in real life or virtually, but her little smile, her stories, touched me, more lightly than many of you, I know, but I had to.
Money is tight for everyone these days, but if you can spare even a few dollars, please consider donating to the March of Dimes in Maddie's name. I plan to on Friday, after my husband gets paid.
And now she's gone.
Twitter lit up last night and today as word of Maddie's death flew around the internet. People who knew her, knew her parents, were devastated, their comments and Tweets almost unbearable to read. In amongst all that was a searing anger at the company (Bluehost) that hosted the Spohr's blog - they shut it down because of the influx of comments and have refused, point blank, to reinstate it. Even knowing why the blog was getting so many hits, they refused. Talk about cold-hearted assholes.
I hesitated to post anything about this little girl, feeling that I wasn't a part of the circle of people who knew her, either in real life or virtually, but her little smile, her stories, touched me, more lightly than many of you, I know, but I had to.
Money is tight for everyone these days, but if you can spare even a few dollars, please consider donating to the March of Dimes in Maddie's name. I plan to on Friday, after my husband gets paid.
Thursday, April 02, 2009
Who Am I?
Lately, this motherhood thing is really getting to me. My kids can be funny and engaging and a lot of fun to be with at times. Their comments and observations on their little world make me laugh quite often. But they're also incredibly needy, as toddlers and preschoolers are wont to be. As well, I seem to be the be all and end all of their lives for everything. Even if That Canadian Boy I Married is home, they come to me for water, for food, for hugs. I'm it and it's wearing me out. The constant "Mama, mama, mama," thing, the inability to even pee without someone banging on the door, demanding something, is making me a little nutty and feel more than a little lost.
I don't know who I am any more outside of a mother. I have interests and friends but I have no time to pursue either of them. I work every single weekend, generally from 2 - 10 p.m., which doesn't give me any time to socialize with anyone and I miss it. I'm not a social butterfly, but I need to interact with people more than just at work. Asking for too much time off, however, will get me fired, so I only do it if I have specific plans and since the time off needs to be booked three weeks in advance, I don't ask often. My friends don't generally plan things that far in advance.
I'm really feeling in a rut lately. I just work and take care of the kids; it's no fun and it doesn't seem like things are going to change any time soon. Even if I could find a full time job in this economy, I wouldn't make enough to pay for both of them to be in daycare. I've been thinking about taking classes in the fall, when both girls are in preschool, but I'm not sure I can swing the cost of it. I'm going to talk it over with TCBIM, though, because if I don't do something for myself, I'm going to lose my mind.
Because I never have time to myself during the day, I find myself staying up way too late at night, reading blogs, on Twitter, watching stuff online, catching up on the mound of books I've yet to finish (or start, in most cases) in an effort to have a little bit of space that's just mine. Needless to say, this lack of sleep isn't doing me any favours. I'm always tired. And my husband gets annoyed with me sometimes for not going to bed when he does. It's the only time I have, though, and while I've explained that to him, he doesn't quite get it. He doesn't understand the craving I have for time alone, with no one needing anything, where I can do whatever I want.
How do you do it? If you work on weekends and have small children, when do you find time for yourself? How do you recapture a little of the woman that you used to be before having children?
I don't know who I am any more outside of a mother. I have interests and friends but I have no time to pursue either of them. I work every single weekend, generally from 2 - 10 p.m., which doesn't give me any time to socialize with anyone and I miss it. I'm not a social butterfly, but I need to interact with people more than just at work. Asking for too much time off, however, will get me fired, so I only do it if I have specific plans and since the time off needs to be booked three weeks in advance, I don't ask often. My friends don't generally plan things that far in advance.
I'm really feeling in a rut lately. I just work and take care of the kids; it's no fun and it doesn't seem like things are going to change any time soon. Even if I could find a full time job in this economy, I wouldn't make enough to pay for both of them to be in daycare. I've been thinking about taking classes in the fall, when both girls are in preschool, but I'm not sure I can swing the cost of it. I'm going to talk it over with TCBIM, though, because if I don't do something for myself, I'm going to lose my mind.
Because I never have time to myself during the day, I find myself staying up way too late at night, reading blogs, on Twitter, watching stuff online, catching up on the mound of books I've yet to finish (or start, in most cases) in an effort to have a little bit of space that's just mine. Needless to say, this lack of sleep isn't doing me any favours. I'm always tired. And my husband gets annoyed with me sometimes for not going to bed when he does. It's the only time I have, though, and while I've explained that to him, he doesn't quite get it. He doesn't understand the craving I have for time alone, with no one needing anything, where I can do whatever I want.
How do you do it? If you work on weekends and have small children, when do you find time for yourself? How do you recapture a little of the woman that you used to be before having children?
Thursday, March 26, 2009
Interview With A Boo
Swiped from Barren Albion.
1. What is something mom always says to you? "Get back in the living room."
2. What makes mom happy? "When I stay in the living room."
3. What makes mom sad? "When I get out of the living room."
4. How does your mom make you laugh? "When you tickle me."
5. What was your mom like as a child? *bites lips, looks confused*
6. How old is your mom? "10"
7. How tall is your mom? "Let me go get the measuring stick to tell."
8. What is her favorite thing to do? "Drive." (uh, no, it's just what I do a lot of.)
9. What does your mom do when you're not around? "Sleep on the couch with The Bug." (not every day, kid.)
10. If your mom becomes famous, what will it be for? "When you get married."
11. What is your mom really good at? "Driving." (heh)
12. What is your mom not very good at? "If you're not doing anything you get sad."
13. What does your mom do for her job? "You do your computer." (Too bad I can't get paid for having a close, personal relationship with my laptop.)
14. What is your mom's favorite food? "Salad." (Dood, what house do you live in? Salad??)
15. What makes you proud of your mom? "When you drive, it makes me proud."
16. If your mom were a cartoon character, who would she be? "You can be anything you want to be."
17. What do you and your mom do together? "We make something special for grammy."
18. How are you and your mom the same? "We both drive." (huh. Must check that odometer.)
19. How are you and your mom different? "We can be silly."
20. How do you know your mom loves you? "If you love me, if it's not Valentine's day, we cheer up." (oooookaaaay.)
21. Where is your mom's favorite place to go? "Work." (Such a comedian.)
1. What is something mom always says to you? "Get back in the living room."
2. What makes mom happy? "When I stay in the living room."
3. What makes mom sad? "When I get out of the living room."
4. How does your mom make you laugh? "When you tickle me."
5. What was your mom like as a child? *bites lips, looks confused*
6. How old is your mom? "10"
7. How tall is your mom? "Let me go get the measuring stick to tell."
8. What is her favorite thing to do? "Drive." (uh, no, it's just what I do a lot of.)
9. What does your mom do when you're not around? "Sleep on the couch with The Bug." (not every day, kid.)
10. If your mom becomes famous, what will it be for? "When you get married."
11. What is your mom really good at? "Driving." (heh)
12. What is your mom not very good at? "If you're not doing anything you get sad."
13. What does your mom do for her job? "You do your computer." (Too bad I can't get paid for having a close, personal relationship with my laptop.)
14. What is your mom's favorite food? "Salad." (Dood, what house do you live in? Salad??)
15. What makes you proud of your mom? "When you drive, it makes me proud."
16. If your mom were a cartoon character, who would she be? "You can be anything you want to be."
17. What do you and your mom do together? "We make something special for grammy."
18. How are you and your mom the same? "We both drive." (huh. Must check that odometer.)
19. How are you and your mom different? "We can be silly."
20. How do you know your mom loves you? "If you love me, if it's not Valentine's day, we cheer up." (oooookaaaay.)
21. Where is your mom's favorite place to go? "Work." (Such a comedian.)
Monday, March 23, 2009
This Post Won't Win Me Any Fans
I finally got around to watching Twilight today and frankly, I was disappointed. Maybe it's because I didn't get to have the whole Twilight experience of going to the theatre and watching it with a room full of adolescent (and wanna-be-adolescent) girls, but I thought it was flat and kind of dull and couldn't understand what the hell the attraction was between Bella and Edward. They both seemed a bit wooden and emotionless, which was not the feeling I got from the books at all. The book portrays this simmering lust that can't be satisfied, this longing for each other and this all-consuming passion. I got none of that from the movie. I didn't see any chemistry between the two actors, at least not that they were showing on camera. There was a lot of gazing into eyes, but it didn't communicate much, at least not to me. Am I the only one who felt this way? I'm kind of feeling like it because all I've heard, from friends and strangers alike, is this breathless awe at the film. I felt there was far more chemistry between Buffy and Angel than between Bella and Edward.
I'm kind of bummed because the part of my brain that is still an adolescent girl loved those books with a squeeing joy, even as the rational, adult woman part of my brain was saying "Whoa, hey, um, stalker much?" among other, less kind things.
Maybe I need to watch the movie again with O. She is just panting to see it and maybe some of her emotion will rub off on me. But for now, all I can say is roll on, Harry Potter.
I'm kind of bummed because the part of my brain that is still an adolescent girl loved those books with a squeeing joy, even as the rational, adult woman part of my brain was saying "Whoa, hey, um, stalker much?" among other, less kind things.
Maybe I need to watch the movie again with O. She is just panting to see it and maybe some of her emotion will rub off on me. But for now, all I can say is roll on, Harry Potter.
Thursday, March 19, 2009
From The Too Much Time On Their Hands Department
I do have posts that I'm working on, I swear. This was too good not to post, though.
Saturday, March 14, 2009
Out of the Mouths of Babes
I've always been a fly-by-the-seat-of-of-my-pants kind of parent, taking advice from books, friends and family, applying what works and discarding what didn't as needed. Reading Out of the Mouths of Babes by Dyan Eybergen has made me think I didn't do all that badly.
The book covers all the major topics - sleeping thru the night, eating issues, toilet training and sibling rivalry, among others. I agreed with most of her ideas, although I did have a few little quibbles here and there.
I really like her idea that you should tailor your parenting to each child rather than expecting your child to adapt to your personality. Since every kid is different, each one reacts in different ways to their experiences so it only makes sense to adapt to the kid as needed.
The chapter that resonated with me the most was the one on toilet training. I have long thought that I was a lazy parent because I let my kids dictate when they were ready to potty train, allowing them to remain in diapers until they showed a readiness to use the toilet. This, needless to say, bothered my mother no end. "When are you going to get that child out of diapers?" she'd bark, staring when they were around 20 months old. My answer was always "When they're ready." I didn't see the point in fighting for months with a kid who just wasn't capable of recognizing that they had to use the toilet. Why not wait? What's the big deal about changing diapers? And lo and behold, when the child told me she was ready, it only took a few days to have her using the toilet all the time. I didn't use rewards, I just heaped praise on them for using the bathroom like a big kid. This is the same philosophy that Eybergen espouses - her book validated my method and who doesn't like a little validation?
Other topics she covers in the book haven't cropped up for us yet - night terrors and general fears haven't been an issue thus far, although I'm sure they're bound to happen. It will be useful to have this book on hand to reference.
This is a lovely little book, full of common-sense advice, with a friendly, down to earth tone. While it may not apply to every issue or aspect of child-rearing, it has plenty to recommend it.
This is a Mother Talk book review. To see reviews of this and other titles, please visit Mother-Talk.
Wednesday, March 11, 2009
Heathers, or Why Middle School Sucks
I don't write often about O because she's 14 and an anomaly in that she's a very nice, very fun teen-ager. There's very little drama most of the time. She does her homework, she helps out around the house (ok, I have to prod her, but still - she does it) and she occasionally makes pancakes for the whole family. You have to love a kid who helps feed her mother's maple syrup addiction. In short, she's a good kid.
This year, she's in the 8th grade and it has sucked from the start. She's struggling with some of her classes, but the biggest problem is a couple of girls who just won't leave her alone. Two of these girls were her friends but suddenly turned on her around October, for no reason that she can think of. These two, whom I shall call Heather, became friends with a couple of girls who are troublemakers. The troublemakers, Celine and Sarah, have, between the two of them, given one girl a concussion and broke another kid's finger. And now all four of them seem to be going after O and one of her friends.
These girls haven't physically harmed O, but their words and actions have caused O a lot of stress. They call O a slut, they get in her face, daring her to hit one of them and they glare and stare and whisper about her in the halls and in the classroom. At one point, it was so bad that O was losing sleep and throwing up because of it.
Of course I've talked to the school and they have reacted, to a certain extent. But some of this is still going on and O is at the point of giving up. And to be perfectly honest, O and her friend are very dramatic, so I'm unsure how much of this is going on (especially the glaring) and how much is O making mountains. I am not doubting her stories, not at all, and neither is the school, but I think it's gotten to the point that if one of these girls sneezes, O takes it as them being mean to her.
I'm not sure what else to do. The school has spoken with the other girls' parents, they've all been spoken to by the guidance counselor and by the vice-principal and I've had an on-going discussion with the same v-p about it. O has filled out bullying reports but she claims that nothing else is being done. I honestly don't know what else can be done at this point. The school seems to be taking the position of "We can't do anything unless/until one of them physically harms you." I am not too eager for it to get to that point, although O told me the other day that she'd rather one of them do something than keep going thru this stress. I can see her point. '
The mama in me would like nothing more than to go up to each of these girls and light into them, but I won't. I just wish I knew how to make this stop.
Monday, March 09, 2009
Stuck
I seem to be suffering from a severe case of writer's block on this blog. I have no idea what's wrong with me, why I can't write anything, but I can't. I can think of little snippets of things, like my crush on Rachel Maddow
(smart! pretty! funny! did I mention smart?)
or the new rules implemented at work, which involve smiling. All the time. Which makes my head want to explode.
I could just post videos for a while, until this passes, but that doesn't really seem to be a way to get more readers.
I could post about
how much I'm
enjoying Dollhouse
(which, hey, I just did)
but I'm not a TV critic, so all I can do is sit here and say "Ooooh, it's gooooood." I have loved all the Joss Whedon stuff I've seen and I know I'm late to the party, but I'm going to start watching Buffy on Hulu since I missed it on the first go-round.
I could whine about how I want to revamp my blog but can't afford to pay for a new design and really don't want to lose my little tiki monkey. I would, however, very much like to lose the blue background.
I can't seem to come up with a complete post, though, and it's very frustrating. (Although, upon review, this is pretty much a post, albeit a disjointed, all-over-the-damned-map post.)
So anyone have any brilliant ideas on how to fix this? Or topics I could write about? Or questions you want to ask?
Anyone?
(smart! pretty! funny! did I mention smart?)or the new rules implemented at work, which involve smiling. All the time. Which makes my head want to explode.
I could just post videos for a while, until this passes, but that doesn't really seem to be a way to get more readers.
I could post about
how much I'm
enjoying Dollhouse
(which, hey, I just did)
but I'm not a TV critic, so all I can do is sit here and say "Ooooh, it's gooooood." I have loved all the Joss Whedon stuff I've seen and I know I'm late to the party, but I'm going to start watching Buffy on Hulu since I missed it on the first go-round.
I could whine about how I want to revamp my blog but can't afford to pay for a new design and really don't want to lose my little tiki monkey. I would, however, very much like to lose the blue background.
I can't seem to come up with a complete post, though, and it's very frustrating. (Although, upon review, this is pretty much a post, albeit a disjointed, all-over-the-damned-map post.)
So anyone have any brilliant ideas on how to fix this? Or topics I could write about? Or questions you want to ask?
Anyone?
Monday, March 02, 2009
Bullets Over Bedhead
I've been working on a post for a week now and I've managed to type and delete the same few paragraphs about 87 times. So I'm doing a bullet post in an effort to keep at least one regular reader of this blog. We shall see how that works out.
Oh, except for this: This little fellow makes me smile every time I watch him.
I think it may have something to do with the crush I had on Fred Savage back in the day....
- I am going to BlogHer. I bought the plane ticket and the event pass, so it's official. Of course, I might not even have a blog by then if I can't kick myself in the ass and actually write, but I'm still going. I'll be the one clutching a beer and rocking and muttering to myself in the corner.
- It's snowing. Again. I am so fucking sick of this weather. And yeah, I know, I chose to live in New England and it's better than having wildfires and tornadoes and hurricanes and huge-ass bugs, but still. Enough already.
- My skin looks like the Sahara dessert right now. My fingers are cracking and bleeding without any provocation and my shins resemble an alligator.
- I'm re-reading Twilight for book group this Friday. We're having a vampire-themed food thing - anyone have any suggestions for what to bring? The hostess (Hi, AM) is already doing bloody Marys.
- I finally have health insurance again and my lovely new GP gave me a five week supply of Cymbalta. Yippee for the happy pills.
- On the downside, the new insurance doesn't cover O's current endo at Joslin and she's not happy about it. I can try to appeal, but there are two other endo groups they do cover, so I'm not hopeful.
- We all have The Crud over here - sneezing and coughing and generally being miserable. We seem to be passing it back and forth and it sucks and I'm sick of it.
- The little old lady across the street from me has more energy than I think I've ever had in my life. She's already out there shoveling. Of course, it looks like she cuts her yard with a ruler and nail scissors, so I think she may be a little anal. Still, she's nice and she doesn't mind my barking dog, so it's all good.
Oh, except for this: This little fellow makes me smile every time I watch him.
I think it may have something to do with the crush I had on Fred Savage back in the day....
Thursday, February 19, 2009
Things I Don't Get
Or, The Post In Which I Channel My Cranky Old Lady-ness.
On a related note, really? Leg warmers? We did this once in the 80s and it was a bad, bad look. It's still bad. If you're a dancer or a cyclist, fine, but as a fashion statement, with high heels? No. Just no.
I want to put hangers, with clothes on them, thru these whenever I see them. And I wonder what this will look like when these people are old and saggy. Bleurgh.
These are so expensive. Wouldn't it be cheaper, not to mention more environmentally friendly, to buy the regular package of your snack of choice, take it home and portion it out into little containers? Or am I the crazy one?
I don't even have words. They're just weird. What's the point of them?
On a related note, really? Leg warmers? We did this once in the 80s and it was a bad, bad look. It's still bad. If you're a dancer or a cyclist, fine, but as a fashion statement, with high heels? No. Just no.Someone please to explain.
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