The High Court

I came on the other day because I had some urgent thought I needed to get down here. I clicked on the blog and saw the previous post about losing my temper and it absolutely took the breath out of me. In part because the entire day/incident came racing back to me with all the remorse, and also because I hadn't realized the entry had successfully posted that day. The blog had been acting hinky and it sort of seemed poetic at the time that I wasn't being allowed to post my entry, so I had just walked away from it and not thought about it again until the other day.

Suddenly, my urgent thought completely vanished out of my head and I just sat there wondering if I should have actually clicked the "publish post" button that night. Well, a friend responded with a comment days later and I felt so much better! I'm glad I don't have to be perfect or pretend to be perfect.

Just so you know, that whole anger thing was all about me losing it with my 7 year old after he decided to FOLLOW his 5 year old brother up a mountain of packaged cases of bottled water in Sam's Club. Yup, pretty much as if he was playing King of the Mountain.
My immediate reaction is always, "What were you THINKING???!!!" That's a bad, bad, bad question to ask a child on the brink of the reason and logic stage of life. He will actually being to make an argument on the reasons why he should be able to climb a mountain of packaged cases of bottled water.

The consequence for the boys was losing their chance to eat lunch at Sam's. We had to immediately go home and eat - dum, dum, dummmmmm - peanut butter sandwiches again. That's a pretty reasonable consequence.

The new challenge for me is being able to hold my temper not only a) during the nutty thing they did, b) while calling them down in front of people who are staring at both me and my hoodlums, c) while talking them through the resulting consequence, and d) through the invariable uproar caused by the consequence; but also e) through the passionate presentation of a legal brief from my 7 year old who is deluding in thinking he is presenting his case to a high court. THAT was where I blew it. Sigh. I'm taking solace in the fact that I made it through the first 4 stages successfully.

Deep doo doo

So, I have this horrible confession to make... I have anger issues. I am trying so hard to work on my anger issues, but the harder I try the angrier I seem to get. Or at least, the more my anger suddenly errupts without any warning on others around me - usually my children.

I'm not really sure what to do next. Books - yes. Therapy - possibly. Friends - certainly. Apologize - most definitely.

Love in the mail

Being a homeschool family, we tend to take things as they come and roll with the punches with our schedule. The problem is, our schedule was so incredibly busy during the fall that it took me two months to catch up with my calendar. Baseball 3 nights a week, 2 games each Saturday, Cub Scouts at least one night a week, church Sunday mornings and Wednesday nights, field trips, and classes out of the home to boot. Whew!! Christmas finally came and I finally had a chance to breathe!

Christmas here was really nice. I put aside many things and spent time with the kids. I baked, and I love to bake. I made a gingerbread house all by myself! My own little thing one evening. Mom's craft time. Jim sort of made fun of me for it, but I really didn't care. Honestly, I love having my husband home. He took the Fridays after each holiday off and we had some great family time.

In order to make Christmas do-able for us, I decided not to push out Christmas cards unless the time just fell into my lap; of course, it didn't. I love receiving cards every year and catching up on everyone's news. I also really enjoy reciprocating, but I just couldn't make it happen this year. And I realized over a conversation with my father-in-law that it's not even the Christmas card part that I enjoy as much as the annual connection with people I love who are miles away.

So, I decided that I am changing my tradition!! I am going to send out Valentine's Day cards to everyone we love this year. And I refuse to allow myself to feel the least little bit like an underachiever for doing so!

This Word

I'm sick of this word: Maverick
-Especially when said with a nasally drawn out 'a' sound and seemingly prompted by the pull of a string in the doll's back. It was all I could do not to groan after a while. I don't want to be mean, but c'mon. It is a bit staged.

mav·er·ick /ˈmævərɪk, ˈmævrɪk/ [mav-er-ik, mav-rik] –noun
1. Southwestern U.S. an unbranded calf, cow, or steer, esp. an unbranded calf that is separated from its mother.
2. a lone dissenter, as an intellectual, an artist, or a politician, who takes an independent stand apart from his or her associates.
3. (initial capital letter) an electro-optically guided U.S. air-to-ground tactical missile for destroying tanks and other hardened targets at ranges up to 15 mi. (24 km).

Based on the definition, isn't it an oxymoron to propose that "we 2 mavericks" are going to help bring both parties together?

This is what I want:
dip·lo·mat /ˈdɪpləˌmæt/ [dip-luh-mat] –noun
1. a person appointed by a national government to conduct official negotiations and maintain political, economic, and social relations with another country or countries.
2. a person who is tactful and skillful in managing delicate situations, handling people, etc.

Angel Kisses

When Jay was very young, he started to get freckles. I love his freckles. They run across the bridge of his nose and looking at them fills me with summer nostalgia. Sea & Ski being applied to shoulders, salt water taffy, and rented rafts. I told him they came from angel kisses. I would tell him this after his baths or before bed and try to count them. The number of freckles always changed.

When Collin came along and started to sprout up, I said this to Jay one night and realized Collin didn't really get freckles. I hoped he didn't feel unloved by the angels. But Collin had curls! So, I told Collin he must get his curls from the angels when Jay gets his freckles - and everyone was (and still is) happy. This is a subject that came up regularly before bed and nap time. I was mainly hoping my kids would sleep soundly after being reminded that God loves them enough to send them angels to look after them: Matthew 18:10 - "See that you do not look down on one of these little ones. For I tell you that their angels in heaven always see the face of my Father in heaven."

Tonight, from another room, I overheard Collin talking to a friend of the family. She had just met him and told him how she loved his curls. Collin piped up and said, "I know. The angels gave them to me," rather matter of factly, not vain in any way. When she commented something to the effect of how she wished she had curls like that and wondered why the angels hadn't given her any, his response was, "Well, you have to take a nap." Good point.

Thanks for the Memories - Family Vacations

Jim and I are negociating a family trip this fall through the deep south with the boys and baby. It will be our first "BIG family vacation". You know the kind we all did as kids. The Brady Bunch kind. The get in the car and drive for hours, eat PB&J and Pop Tarts in the backseat, stop in cheap motels, and drag the kids through cemeteries & the 22nd president's birth place kind of vacation. Woo hoo!

My BFF was saying she never did this as a kid and didn't see why I was so adamant about doing this with our kids. How can I expain this? I started to tell her about all the great memories Jim and I each have of our family vacations with our parents. As I am telling her, I realize that the funniest and best memories are actually connected to huge mishaps - some of which probably brought our parents to the brink of disaster.

There was the time we got stuck in the middle of a field on the way to view Custer's Last Stand. Leaving us surrounded by bison and prairie grass, my dad headed off on foot to find a ranger's station. It had to have been miles and miles away. He was gone for what seemed like forever. In the days of no cell phone, my mother collapsed in tears during the wait, wondering what was to become of us if the plan failed.

There was the time I got bucked off a pony - way off - while riding in the Colorado mountains after days and days of rain - at the age of 5. Can you envision the law suit that would have followed by today's standards?

There was the burping contest my brother and I held as we lay on our sleeping bags in the very back of the station wagon with no seat belts on and playing cards while Dad drove West. "I can burp to the mountains! - UURRRPP!" "Oh yeah?! Well, I can burp to the mountains and BACK!! GRRRAAAAAAWWWWP!!"

There was the time my mother got hopelessly lost here in Florida trying to find Lion Country Safari. Tired and cranky, we returned to the Vero Beach hotel having still failed to find it. I can't even begin to imagine the chaos this would cause if I had to do this with my kids!

There was the time we watched as a man had to get taken off a mountain by paramedics due to the high altitude. I don't remember which mountain, but I remember the man droping like a stone near or in the cable car.

This is such a great lesson for me now to take with me on our future "BIG family vacations". These are the same things my kids are going to remember: the unexpected break down that cost a gazillion dollars to fix, the strange hotel that smelled like wet dog fur, Mom crying because... well that's what Mom does, and burping to the mountains and back.

And Then She Cried...

I think I should have named my blog that. It seems I am making a great impact on my children with all the times I cry. Yesterday, Jay reminded me that when he finally triumphantly managed to pull his first tooth, which he had been working at for weeks and I was beginning to be afraid Jim or I would have to pull it for him, I cried.

That's sort of my signature in life. If I speak before a group about something that is important to me, I cry. If I watch a moment happen with my kids that I know will disapppear forever after that, I cry. If I see a friend in great personal pain, I cry for them. If I hear a great song, choir or high school band, I cry. I cry, I cry, I cry!

After I had Collin I developed postpartum depression. It was a difficult time for the whole family but eventually I asked to be placed on antidepressants, which really helped for about a year. As time went on I could sense that my body alone was regaining its normal balance. Still being on meds, I was beginning to feel almost no fluctuation in a mood at all. It became impossible to cry. That was the last straw. There is no real sense of "me" without a good cry now and again. So, I weaned myself of the meds and I was so much happier - and sadder sometimes, but in a good way.

It was just interesting hearing Jay retell the story of his tooth that way and then tell me, "Yeah, you cry a lot." As parents, I think we wonder what they are going to remember. I can tell now, this is probably going to become a running joke about mom; but I don't mind at all. At least they know how much I care, and I know they love me for that.