Candygram...

It's package delivery season again.  I absolutely dread this time of year.  I think I am finally on good terms with UPS again.  It's been a few years now, and I am hoping that enough personnel rotation has happened that they no longer pass around the story about the time a very pregnant crazy lady stood in the middle of the street, in front of the oncoming UPS delivery truck.

It's a great story.  Not.

It was four years ago and we were expecting several packages during the week before Christmas - to the tune of 1 -2 a day, all week.  Most of the packages were coming from either family in Oklahoma or retailers.  One of the packages was some electronic equipment.  It escapes me now, what it was, but it was expensive and fragile - and we were anxious to receive it. 

I was 32 weeks pregnant, and Rylan was 18 months old and an afternoon napper.  UPS always shows up in the afternoon, which meant that I had to dash to the door each day before they made their customary banging on the door - no matter what kind of signage I left to please not use the bell or knock.  One day I threw open the door and crossed the front porch to meet the deliver guy at the front walkway.  I was not but three feet from him, but he chose to just toss the box down in front of my feet despite my cheerful "How are you?  I'll take that from you!".  Ass.  He didn't even look back.

So I made a phone call.  It was the fragile package we were anticipating and I was pretty angry that he just tossed it onto the pavement, in front of me.  Nothing was broken... but I was not about to let this little incident go. 

So, the next day, when delivery time came around again, this time there was a loud knock at the door.  I was back in the kitchen, and I had heard the familiar gear-shifting of the UPS truck, so I was already waddling my very pregnant self toward the door when he knocked.  I wasn't but 2 seconds behind, but he was already leaping into the truck when I opened the door and noticed my package left on a table next to my front door.  I brought the box in.  I got out a knife to start opening the box.  I placed a hand on top of the box to hold it as I started cutting, and when I pulled it away, 'something' was sticking too it.

Snot.

A lot of it.

That f**king delivery man hocked a disgustingly large loogie onto the top of my package in retribution for the earful he most likely got from his supervisor when he got in the night before.  And then the chickenshit ran to the truck.  Well.  No no no no no. This was going to stop.  Now.

So I rinsed my hand, grabbed a jacket, called Dean, and headed outside.  I got Dean on the line and explained what was happening.  I live on a large cul-de-sac, and I am the first stop on their route.  They would have to drive back by my house.  And when they did... we would have a 'chat'.

They started barreling towards my house to make their exit, and I walked into the middle of the street and held up my hand.  The driver (not the spitter) stopped.  I walked over to the door and let loose a tirade that would make sailor blush.  I did not appreciate his little 'present', and I told him so.  I walked away and made some more phone calls and took pictures to send to his supervisor as well.  And then washed my hands about 20 times and went through half a bottle of hand sanitizer. (and then lived in fear for a couple of weeks that he was going to come back and toss a brick through our front window...)

Needless to say, the driver personally made the package drop the next day.  Along with a new guy. 

My work was done. 

Word to the wise: Don't mess with a crazy pregnant lady.  Not ever.



A pox on thy pox parties...



By virtue of being a homeschooler, we run in the social circles that are passionate about freedom of education, food choices, and immunizations.  It seems that every few months, someone else on facebook is announcing another Chicken Pox exposure party.

I've got to get some rather intense feelings off my chest - right now, because the situation has become toxic.  There will be ruffled feathers, and hurt feelings of close friends, but I want to scream at the world, and implore to the sensibilities of the parents out there that intentionally expose their children to potentially dangerous diseases.  It may be all fun and games for you to circle up your children and pass around a lollipop and then wait in gleeful anticipation for the spots to appear - but what about all the other people you will come into contact with for the next three weeks.  Did you think about them?

I'm the daughter of an immunologist.  You now know which side of the fence I stand on.  I don't engage in discussion about the merits of immunizations with others, I don't push my opinions on facebook (until now) or at Park Day, I just keep it to myself.  But when I have unknowingly exposed my children to a child that has been knowingly exposed, that is when I get livid about the insanity of it all.

 

 

I just have to question this fine line between one parent's agenda and another's.  If your agenda is to intentionally get your child sick so that they build a natural life-time immunity to the chicken pox, I can respect that.  I am thankful that I went though the disease myself and that I no longer have to worry about it.  But in the pursuit of your agenda, did you consider that everywhere you go for the next 21 days, you are potentially putting some one else at risk?  Yes - I know it is not intentional, but no one is using common sense here!!  I know you mean well for your children, but the ramifications of intentionally exposing your family to disease seems to get lost in the translation here


We didn't have a choice in this happening.  Where is the fairness in that?  I'm not trying to point fingers and ridicule others for their lifestyle choice.  I will, however, call attention to - hell, even scream it from the mountain tops (in other words put it on my blog) when an action puts my family unknowingly at risk.  So please, please, to all of you non-immunizers out there... please understand that your choice to expose your kids is not as personal as you think.  Apologies aren't necessary here - what's done is done - but awareness within our community will make all the difference in the future.

I'll see you all next Spring when it is safe to come out.  (and they say we aren't socialized...pshaw)

The Nutcracker



Of all of the different activities to do during Christmas time, going to see the Nutcracker is my all-time favorite.  It just doesn't 'feel' like Christmas to me without it.

Ever since I held my baby girl, Rylan, in my arms, I've been anticipating the moment that she would see her first performance of this beautiful ballet.  It's the ideal mother-daughter event, and I can recall the multiple times I went to see it with my mom.  This is the year, since Rylan had reached the age (5) where she could manage to sit through the entire show.

Mom purchased tickets for the three of us and we went to yesterday's Matinee in holiday style.  Tons of other little girls and their moms were there as well - so many beautiful little ones in gorgeous holiday dresses - I just love, love, love this time of year!

We had seats in the center Mezzanine, and I brought binoculars in case Rylan wanted to see anything close-up.  A few nights ago I read the story of the Nutcracker to Rylan so she would have an idea of what the ballet was about.  Unfortunately, I forgot to leave out a few details - things that adults just take for granted.  The performers don't talk or sing...they just dance.  That there is an intermission - that doesn't mean it is over.

When the show started, Rylan was smitten with the fancy hair and dresses of the little girl dancers.  She got very excited when she saw the mice because she knew that a friend of hers was one of the mice (although she wasn't performing in this particular show - they trade off).  She was very satisfied when the Mouse King met his end.  And then the Nutcracker's head piece was removed and he began to dance with Clara.  First, she asked grandma if they were going to kiss.  (She was hoping they weren't).  Then she asked why they weren't talking to each other.  She was surprised by the snow falling on the dancers as they swished around the stage. 

 The snowflake dancers are my favorite part of the whole show, but I'm always afraid that they will slip and fall.  Then we sat through intermission and Rylan colored in her little Hello Kitty coloring book that grandma gave her just before the show started.

Rylan was antsy through the second-half.  I love all of the different dancers - and my favorite in this show was the Arabian dancers.  They used a large rectangular parachute and the visual effects were sooo neat.  The rest of the show was a little more unremarkable, but the Sugarplum Fairy was very, very good.  Strangely though, she did not perform her little solo dance where the Celeste plays in the background.  The quintessential Nutcracker element was missing.  ???? Very strange.

After the show we wandered around the upstairs Mezzanine and took some pictures.  They just completed a major years-long renovation of the performance center, and so this whole section was all new to us. 

I felt teary-eyed through much of the beginning of the show, as I watched Rylan watching the performance.  She loved it.  I can remember going to evening performances with my mom and brother, and just being taken in by the grandeur of it all.  I don't know if this will set off a desire for Rylan to do ballet (is it horrible if I say that I hope not??), but we shall see.  I did it for a number of years, and I loved it.... but it is expensive (and it ...ahem... didn't make me any more graceful)

As we were leaving, I purchased a dancing Clara tree ornament for Rylan - as her ornament for this year.  We decorated the tree later in the evening, and as I was unpacking my childhood ornaments, Rylan saw my Clara ornament that my mom gave me.   They are now hanging side-by-side on the tree.

Jean shopping = torture

I ripped my jeans right across both knees while on vacation in OKC.  In fact, my khaki capri's also bit the dust the next day.  They were my go-to pants.  If I wasn't wearing one, I was wearing the other.  Yes, it's true.  I only have (had) two pairs of decent pants.  I have some nylon gym pants - but they aren't exactly meant for cold weather.  I also have one pair of cotton jersey pants that are stretched out in all of the wrong places.  Those are my 'house-only' pants.

I bought those jeans and capris on the same day, at Kohl's, about 8 weeks after having Colin.  So they have been workhorses for almost two years.  I'm surprised that they lasted this long.  Neither pair fit very well either.  I tried to take my time and I even left the kids home with Dean so I could do a good job.  But it got to the point where I just said f*#k it, and threw them in the cart.  I hate clothes shopping.

I have a difficult body to work with.  Pregnancy has left it's mark, along with four years of keeping any available chair in the house company.  Finding pants that work in all the different zones (waist, hip, thighs, and so forth) is the biggest pain in the ass.  I used to have a go-to pair/style at the GAP.  That was about 10 years ago, so I am sure they don't have them anymore.

This is what I hate about jean shopping the most - the styles change so much, and not for the better.  I hate low-rise jeans.   The problem is, anyone thinks they can wear them.  They just can't.  They only look good on skinny people.  Then there are the pencil jeans.  Maybe I should start a cocaine habit so I can look cool too.  There are the heavily-embellished pocket jeans.  They look nice too - again, only on skinny people.  If you have a big butt - why would you want to attract attention to it?  (Okay - yes there are people out there like that, but I am not one of them).  Further more - think of the mayhem you could cause when you try to squeeze through tight places or a crowd of people.  Those jewels would snag on everything!  Then there are the boot-cut, bell-bottoms and etc.. issue.  I don't know what kinds of shoes to wear with these jeans.  All I know is, ratty old sneakers do not cut it.  But it is all I have.  I'm a 40 year-old woman who wears orthotics.  I can't prance around in boots.  Although I would love too, because they look really awesome.  I used to have a pair...and I miss them.  Until I am able to expand my shoe collection to beyond my ratty pair of tennis shoes and my Crocs which the Dr. says are a no-no, I'm stuck.  And that will be at the specialty-orthotic-type-shoes pricetag as well.

I just hate clothes shopping, period.  My identity has changed and I no longer know how to dress myself.  It feels really sad to say that, but it is true.  We are homeschoolers.  I don't have a professional job anymore, so those outfits are getting picked-off left and right from my side of the closet.  I am a different size.  That means a whole other portion of my available wardrobe is off-limits.  I don't want to be lazy and wear pajama pants all day, yet I do want to be comfortable.  Something that lets me get down on the floor to play with the kids (which is how the jeans ripped in the first place) yet look presentable enough to go out into the world.

Fly Lady sent out an essay the other day about how to take care of yourself.  She said that you can spot the SHE's (Sidetracked Home Executive) from a mile away.  They are the moms whose children look nice.  The kids' clothes are clean, wrinkle-free, their outfits match, their hair is done... and then you look at the mom.  Disheveled.  Hair pulled into a ponytail.  Wrinkled clothes...with stains.  Yep.  That's me alright!  Each and every day I look like a wrecking ball gave me a smooch.  I have the same four shirts that I rotate around.  Each and every one has a stain or a small tear somewhere.  I wear the same ratty-pill-ridden brown sweater.  My best asset is my hair, and 99.9% of the time I wear it twisted up into a bun because it's fast and out of the way.

It's different now, how I feel about myself.  It's not that I stopped caring (although I look like it), I just don't take the time and energy to put much effort into it.  I've grown used to thinking that there is too much else in life to do than worry about how I look.  Which is sad.  Sad for my family (especially my husband).

It only effects me once-in-awhile.  I get together with friends for a night out, and I instantly feel self-conscious.  They all look very nice and trendy, and I feel dowdy and old-maidish.  Nobody makes me feel like that but myself, and why should I be mean to myself?

So I am taking Fly Lady's advice.  I can remember, before marriage and kids, how much I did care about my appearance.  I spent time on myself every day, and it wasn't like it was god-awful.  This isn't about making sure you don't leave the house without lipstick.  It is more about pampering.  Taking the time to properly take care of yourself.  Using nail-clippers instead of chewing on your nails.  Wearing a favorite pair of earrings.  Using perfume.  Socks and shoes instead of slippers.  Floss.

So tonight I am going jean shopping.  Woo-hoo!  I am going with the mind-set that it will not be torture.  I will not look at the other women that might be there and feel bad about myself.  My kids tell me I am pretty, and that is good enough for me.

Hey!! Watch this!



Yesterday morning, while all of the kids were still sleeping, I was busily typing away when I suddenly heard 'motor' sounds coming from the playroom.  A bit odd, but I assumed it was Owen.  Although usually when he first wakes up, he comes downstairs and stands just out of view, giggles and scoots along the wall, until I notice him.  The he loudly exclaims, "Hi Mommeee!!" in his high-falsetto voice, comes over for a hug, THEN goes off to play.  This little motor-sound-maker was a little bit more like Colin, who is completely affable, and will wander off and play, without having to be noticed.  But it couldn't be.  Colin was in his crib.  Asleep.

Like the awesome mom I am, I shrugged and kept typing.  I'd lose my train of thought and my coffee would get cold if I got up to investigate. 

Rylan comes down the stairs about 10 minutes later and comes in, asking, "Why is Colin in the playroom?".  Ummmmm.... wait... what???

Damn!  He's free!  It was only a matter of time, but he figured how to get out of his crib.  A couple a weeks ago he figured out how to open a door.  In OKC he escaped from his bassinet when it was nap time - multiple times. 

I never heard a thump.  I don't know how he got out, but I assume he used the laundry basket of stuffed animals at the base of his crib as a landing spot.  He also managed to open the door and slip downstairs without being noticed.  This is the stuff of nightmares, people...

Dean removed the front of the crib last night, and we dug out the little bed rail that you put up to keep them from rolling out of the bed.  Colin was absolutely delighted.  He climbed into his bed immediately and started jumping up and down.  Then, to amaze and entertain his audience, he belly-flopped off the side of his bed, onto the carpeted floor.  Dean and I were horror-struck.  Colin looked up and smiled.  Then he got up and did it again.  Five more times, even.  Just as I suspected, my deepest fear is confirmed.  He is the 'Hey!! Watch this!!!' kid.

I am horrible about recording when this-and-that happened, but I do seem to remember that all three - Rylan, Owen and now Colin seemed to pass the crib-to-bed milestone at about 22 months.  With Rylan, I was absolutely terrified that she would roll out.  I piled every pillow I could find around the base of the crib, just in case the bed rail somehow failed.  With Owen, I think I used a couple.  With Colin, the little belly-flopper, I didn't put any down.  The pile of stuffed animals are there...but this kid is one tough nugget.

He is also the one that will turn me prematurely grey.  He is the climber, the flinger, the thrower, the runner, the risk-taker, the one that will do anything for a laugh.

Be safe little man, be safe.

No more Hot Tamales for you!

Jordan got braces put on yesterday.  We knew it was coming for a couple of years now.  Jordan has been using a nite guide for the last 20 months.  He did a pretty good job of wearing it (when we reminded him), but it didn't do what it was supposed to do which was correct his overbite.

We got the news in September from the dentist that it was time to see the orthodontist.  Damn.  I finally got around to making his appointment early last month.  As luck would have it (which I will address the financial aspects in my other blog) his appointment time got moved up from January to mid-November.

We went to see the orthodontist that our dentist referred us to for a consultation.  Yep.  Braces.  Immediately.  I actually did a happy dance.  (as to why - see my other blog).  He would get them first thing in December.  During Thanksgiving Break, while Jordan was doing his visitation with his mom in OKC, his nite guide slipped out of his mouth while he was sleeping, and his mom's dogs used it as a chew toy.  A $3200 chew toy.  With a $150 replacement fee.  No offer to replace it was forthcoming of course, but I guess in the big picture it doesn't matter any more.  I'm just upset about the principal.  If you own destructive dogs, there is a responsibility element there...

So the orthodontist has a nice office.  A very nice office.  I'm sure he has a nice house too.  And a nice second home in the mountains.  And a nice boat.  And a super-nice travel agent.  Have I mentioned that I have yet to meet him?  I just dropped $4100 in his office - the least he could do would be to come out and shake my hand and thank us for making a couple of mortgage payments for him, or for financing that nice vacation on the French Riviera.  Oh well.  He's giving Jordan a nice smile, right?

Jordan will have braces on for 18 months, and then wear a retainer.  For life.  That is what they do now.  They recommend wearing a retainer 3 -4 nights a week for the rest of your life.  Otherwise, your teeth will continue to move around.  I can attest to that.  I had braces too, when I was Jordan's age, and my teeth have moved.  Not to the point where they need correction, but I can tell my bite has changed.

Here is the before...

This was Monday, when Jordan went in to get some spacers put in...

And the after...

This was Tuesday (yesterday), after he got the braces put on.  Once his incisors drop down a little more, they will put brackets on those as well.

The thousand dollar advent calendar

I don't decorate on the cheap.  This baby cost me a thousand dollars.

• Felt $6
• 24 dinky plastic ornaments $8
• 25 gold star buttons $10
• Extra spool of hunter green thread because I suck at decorative machine stitching $2
• Vet bill for emergency surgery to remove stick pin from kitty's large intestine $955

That was almost three years ago to the day.  And now, for the rest of my days, every Christmas I get to relive the fantastic time in my life that kitty batted at my sewing pins holding down those silly snowflake dots, freed one and swallowed it in the blink of an eye.  Disgusted with the cat (and myself), I put away the calendar that year and finished it up the next year, in time for advent.  According to my husband, if the cat ever swallows a pin again, it's tough luck.   Kinda makes sewing a rare event in these parts nowadays....I have to lock up the cat each time and account for each and every pin.  Talk about pressure!

I made this calendar as a knock-off of one I saw in a Lillian Vernon catalog.  I tried to order one online, but they called me the next day to say there was a mistake and that they were sold out and would not be receiving anymore.  I was so ticked off about it that I scoffed at the challenge and declared I could make one myself.  And mine would look even better.  That was before I nearly killed the cat.  Or the next year when I realized just how hard it was to try and sew a decorative stitch and make a number at the same time.  I hate those stupid-looking calendar numbers.  I have half a mind to search the web for some embroidery patch or something and yank those nasty pockets off of there.  Oh well.... another day.  Here are some close-ups.  Not that I want you to get a closer look at my amature handiwork.

The ornament calendar reminds me of the one we used when I was growing up - which is probably why I wanted it in the first place.  My mom had made a felt one as well, but used snaps instead of buttons.  The 'ornaments' were cut out of felt as well, and you could just snap the ornament on each day.  The yet-to-be-used ornaments were kept in a butter tub on top of the fridge.  Ah, memories.  :)

Alas, one Advent calendar is not enough in these parts.  Each kiddo gets a turn hanging up an ornament, but waiting four days for your turn to come around again seems to last an eternity.  So, there needs to be something for each kid to do each day.  I found this wooden 'house' the year before last, at an end-of-season markdown at Kohl's.  The wooden compartments are tiny though, and are only just big enough to hold a couple of pieces of candy or some quarters or dollar coins.  When you have to stuff four of an item in there, it gets complicated.

There is the box idea (put a little giftie in a little gauzy gift bag - the kind you get at weddings for a favor - and make up 24 of them for each kid).  You can also hang a long, red Christmas ribbon with a bow at the top, and then hot glue 24 candies (like mini candy bars) in a long line, and attach a little bell ornament at the top.  There is even a poem that goes with it...

December 1^st to Christmas

is the longest time of year.

Seems as though Old Santa

just never will appear!

How many days ‘til Christmas?

It’s hard to keep the count.

So this little candy ribbon

will tell you the exact amount.

Undo a candy every night

when the sandman casts his spell.

And Christmas Eve will be here

by the time you reach the bell!

Merry Christmas!

I got the idea and the poem from the family that I nannied for years ago.  The grandma (Nana) would make the ribbons for the kids each year and they would arrive by mail around Thanksgiving time.  I took the idea and made the ribbons for my nephews for a few years, but it got to be too much.  I haven't made them here for about three years.  Not since baby Owen kept pulling off all of the candies.  I will probably revive it next year.

I kept thinking though that I wanted to do an activity-oriented type calendar.  The kids would open a little card, and printed inside would be the special holiday activity for the day (watch a movie, make cookies, make an ornament, etc...)  Then, because I was pretty sick last week and had nothing better to do than get caught up on the bazillion blogs that I follow, lo and behold I saw a post from Tsh on Simple Mom about how she made an Advent calender using cards that you could attach a daily activity to.  Just what I was looking for - and I had to have it - even if it was the first of the month already.  Which I guess means I had to make it - pronto.  So sick or not, I went out and hunted down the necessary supplies and made it over two successive evenings.  Here is my finished product..

I spent about $25 total in materials.  I decided I wanted a background on mine, and I had some really great fabric left over from a quilt that I wanted to use.  I just used duct tape to attach some thin batting and the fabric to the back panel of the frame.  I really wanted the bookmark cards that she (Tsh) used, but neither Hobby Lobby or Michael's carried them.  Tsh mentioned that she found them at Jo-ann's - we don't have a Jo-ann's....yet.  We had one, but they were small and their selection sucked.  They are reopening in a much bigger location very soon though.  Otherwise, I would have to drive to the next town, which I was not doing.  Not when the creative bug hits late in the evening.  It was a mad scramble to get to Hobby Lobby before closing time as it was.  And even then, I ended up at Michael's.  So I used some plain, rectangular bookmarks.

Now, I am not a scrapbooker.  There is some really amazing stuff out there, but it is too expensive of a hobby for me.  So I am not really aware of the full array of products, but would you believe, in all the plethora of materials available, the ONLY calendar numbers available (that I could see on my mad dash through Hobby Lobby and Michael's) are the exact same thing that Tsh (Simple Mom) used?  I was wanting something a little more green/white/red, but this was the only thing out there.  These calendar numbers were part of a collection housed within a Christmas-themed scrapbook paper book.  I found it on one of the last displays that I looked at - just as I was losing all hope of being able to create something like this - because there seems to be this thing about me and calendar numbers.  I didn't want to settle like I did with my felt tree calendar.  I whooped for joy.  Literally.  And even better - it was marked at 40% off. 

I have yet to finish the list of activities that will be hidden inside the cards, but I have held true to doing an activity a day, so far.

Dec 1 - Watch the movie The Santa Clause

Dec 2 - Play in the snow and drink hot cocoa

Dec 3 - Set up the Santa collection (we actually finished the next day)

Dec 4 - Watch The Polar Express and have popcorn (in honor of Jordan getting braces today)

Dec 5 - Work on special Christmas-themed puzzles and worksheets

and so forth...  I think I will play it by ear this go-round.  The goal is to keep it fun, low-expectation, and best-of-all, FREE...

Happy countdown!