As I was occupied doing something, the kids were also busy. I turned around and Susannah's hair was adorned with stickers, which made me think of Narnian wood nymphs with hair trimmed in leaves. Nanna's always looked sort of elven.
Friday, October 2, 2009
365.3: Sticker Elf
As I was occupied doing something, the kids were also busy. I turned around and Susannah's hair was adorned with stickers, which made me think of Narnian wood nymphs with hair trimmed in leaves. Nanna's always looked sort of elven.
Wednesday, September 30, 2009
365.2: Clean
Not wanting all my photos to be of my children, I had to look elsewhere for inspiration.
Tuesday, September 29, 2009
365.1: Sisters
While I had some more interesting and better-lit shots from Day 1, I couldn't decide between them. So, I'll just post my first one. My girls are so big!
365
That's a big number.
I have been inspired to join some blogging friends in taking a picture a day for a year. I'm not sure of the most efficient way to post this, which other sites to post them on, etc. But I figure it will certainly be an interesting experiment if I can follow through. I'm already starting to learn more about my camera than I had known before!
I've decided to put my pictures on my Trenches blog, but I figure that taking more pictures more often will provide me plenty of fodder for our family blog, Sibling Revelries. (I still feel a little schizophrenic having two blogs, which is why I'm explaining this, I guess.)
Here come the first two days' photos!
I have been inspired to join some blogging friends in taking a picture a day for a year. I'm not sure of the most efficient way to post this, which other sites to post them on, etc. But I figure it will certainly be an interesting experiment if I can follow through. I'm already starting to learn more about my camera than I had known before!
I've decided to put my pictures on my Trenches blog, but I figure that taking more pictures more often will provide me plenty of fodder for our family blog, Sibling Revelries. (I still feel a little schizophrenic having two blogs, which is why I'm explaining this, I guess.)
Here come the first two days' photos!
Tuesday, July 7, 2009
Place Mat Matters
Mom's can worry about silly things. The other day, a friend asked me to stop and buy a place mat for her younger son because big brother had one and little brother was getting jealous. I found the small display and instantly liked the bright colors and whimsical drawings. An alphabet design caught my eye -- my eldest enjoys pointing out letters and we are traveling and leaving many messes on friends' tablecloths, so I decided to indulge the impulse and purchase a couple for my girls. Then the dillemas hit.
At first, I thought I'd get two different ones. One for Susannah, and one for Maggie: there were two alphabet designs after all. But wait. I'll be able to keep straight whose is whose, but Daddy certainly won't care. Maggie will then tell Daddy he's got the wrong one, or she'll demand to use Susannah's and little sister won't give up without a fight. OK, so I'll get the same for both girls. (Of course, it still took me some minutes to pick the perfect one.)
Anxiety struck again as I stood in line at the check out. Some day, I may have more children, I thought. I will then have to get a third place mat. What if they don't have the same alphabet design any more? I'll have to get a different one, and then they'll be fighting over the different one. Or I could buy three of the same in the future, but what would I do with these two? Maybe I should go back and get two different ones instead of two of the same.
Fortunately, the sense that this was ridiculous inner struggle began to surface on the turbulent inner waters of my thoughts, and I paid the $3.99 per place mat and got on with life.
Tuesday, May 12, 2009
My Trench Has Been Deep of Late
I have not had the opportunity to see outside of my trench very often this year. My kids have their needs. The house and I have our own. And my husband needs a few things I can give too. Sometimes, his need is fulfilled simply by making sure the kids needs, the house's, and my own still allow him time to study. And that is why I have not recently had a chance to climb out of my trench, take a breath of fresh air, look around, and communicate (commiserate?) with the other trench-dwellers.
Writing is once again on my radar. I posted again to our family's blog after a long interval sometime a couple of weeks ago, in preparation to take on some writing work again. The very next Monday found me already committed to a (rather boring, but also easy) project, so my hopes of catching up my blogs for a few weeks before getting a real assignment had to be laid aside. I am now in the stride of this project, and since I am nearly writing the exact same thing for every post, I can do it without thinking and within the space of about an hour.
Today's struggles were many: I was too tired; I didn't know what to cook for supper; the kids would have to watch a second video; I was too tired. Ultimately, I bit the bullet, and got to work. An hour later, I can happily report that my submissions are submitted, my dinner is half started, and unfortunately, my kids are probably still watching Goofy. There are worse things. (For instance, I am being tempted to start nearly every sentence of this post with a conjunction, and while I approve of that occasionally, the novelty quickly wears off.)
I have gathered my thoughts and written down what I need to do this week. My laundry day is planned, an outing to the Zoo penciled in, and my submissions, my work(!), noted. As I re-enter the world of the work-at-home-Mom, I want to reign in the CHAOS and establish routines or I will end up living in a home filled with crusty dishes and people running on little sleep (which may happen anyway from time to time).
Ironically, taking on more work has allowed me this break, a chance to look around and call out to inhabitants of other trenches running alongside mine. I create and reflect in the midst of the needs I must fulfill. Then I dive back in and do all those mundane things that mothers do and that their families cannot live without.
(Photo courtesy of FreeFoto.com)
Sunday, July 13, 2008
My Trench was made of Diet Coke and Poop!
Wow. It's been over a month. I have tried numerous times to get back here to post my straight-from-the-trenches story...even started typing it out twice (!!) but something (or three little someones) always interrupted me and eventually I lost what I had started.
So, right now, this beautiful Sunday afternoon, as I should be doing my menu-planning and grocery list-making, I will recount the events of that fateful day IN FULL with no interruptions as all FOUR of my boys (this counts Dear Hubby) take naps. Thus it occurred...
My oldest son (DS5) had to be on the local Christian radio station at 8 a.m. one morning. We had to leave the house at 7:30 which is VERY early for us "late-birds" as he likes to call us. I didn't want to wake my other children up so early, so I asked my mom to come over, with the promise of a "birthday breakfast" afterwards. (Her birthday had been the day before.)
Everything went beautifully. We made it to the station, DS5 did just what he was supposed to, we made it home just in time for the Baby to wake up and be fed, and everyone was dressed and ready by 9:30 a.m. We took her to McDonald's (Mom's birthday, but the kids are the ones celebrating) and all three boys even behaved well enough that Mom and I had a good chat while we ate. Ahh, heavenly.
Mom had to be at work by noon so we took her back to our house to get her car by 11 a.m. Since all three boys were already dressed, already fed, and already strapped into their carseats, I decided to take advantage of this opportunity to head into town to get a specific errand done. (I had portraits to pick up at Target.) First wrong choice.
As we got into town I remembered that I had some mail in my purse so I made a quick stop at the main post office. Parked the car, cracked the windows, locked the doors, and ran up to the building to shove the mail in the correct mail slot. In the less-than-a-minute it took for me to get back to the car and sit in my seat, something dreadful happened. You see, I had brought my newly refilled LARGE DIET COKE (LDC) with me from McDonald's to sip on during my errand run. My LDC was still almost completely full as I pulled into my spot at the post office. My LDC was empty and the top was askew when I got back in the car. Hmm...
I sat there staring blankly at the empty cup for a few seconds as my mind whirled around the possibility that I drank it and forgot. Suddenly, I realized what happened. I looked down and noticed that there was a rapidly running-toward-the-back-of-the-van puddle of LDC streaming under my seat. As I slowly turned around my eyes met those of my DS5 in the way-back seat of the van. He had decided that he wanted to sit in MY seat and watch me run up to the building and back. He has recently graduated into a booster seat and now has the power to strap and unstrap his little body into his seatbelt at will. Obviously, on his way into my seat he knocked over my LDC and spilled it all over the front of the van. Rather than tell me what happened he picked up the empty cup and put it back into the cupholder and sprinted (if that's possible in a minivan) back to his seat. And left me to discover the disaster on my own. Oh boy.
Although this was just a terrible accident, I was still very upset. Partially at my son for not telling me what had happened (I was lucky that the spill was on the floor and not in my seat or I would have sat right in it without knowing until it was too late!). But mostly, and I'm very ashamed about this but willing to admit it, because I really LOVE an LDC...and I had lost it in a matter of seconds! Sad, I know.
Well, since I was already in town and really wanted those portraits, I decided to continue on my way even though the upholstery in my van was getting stickier and Diet-Cokier as each second passed. (That's why they invented the Spot-Bot, but that's another post entirely.) I got to Target and hauled all three sons inside. Grabbed a cart. Baby in his bucket seat attached to the front. Check. DS3 in the back basket of the cart. Check. DS5 riding on the end of the cart. Check. All is harried, but well. We head over to the diaper section and as I'm quickly comparing prices in my head, I smell something. Something poopy. Not baby poopy, although I do start there first. DS3 was in the throes of potty-training and had been doing very well. He was wearing a pull-up (thank goodness not regular underwear) and even though I had asked him before we got the cart if he had to go to the bathroom, he decided to put his poop in his "underwear" instead. I should have known when he got quiet. He was crouching in the back of the cart. Telltale signs.
You might think that this is the last of my disaster-filled morning, but you would be wrong! Because of the poopy pants, I quit price checking and just grabbed the nearest diapers that were the right size, zipped to the portrait studio to pick up those portraits that started it all, and sprinted up to the registers. At this point, Baby is getting hungry and is starting to fuss. I pick the shortest line I see and empty the cart. Baby is really starting to cry now so I calmly soothe him with words and give him my knuckle to munch on while he waits. It doesn't work. I act unconcerned, but I REALLY WANT TO GET OUT OF TARGET AS FAST AS POSSIBLE! She rings up my purchases and after I stick my Target card into the reader I wait for the signature box to pop up. I wait. Still waiting. By this time my DS5 is dancing around and getting in the way of other customers, DS3 is still poopy and crouching in the back of the cart, and Baby is screaming. AHHHHHHHH!!! Oh wait...that was me screaming...and still waiting for the signature box.
To make a long story even longer, that computer froze. She called for "tech support" and a nice man came out of his computer-y office to help. His "help" was to take me to another lane and re-ring up my entire purchase. Yes, that's right. Unpack the cart, re-load it onto a different belt, re-ring everything, and re-pack the cart. And don't forget dancing DS5, poopy and crouching DS3, and screaming Baby.
(On a positive note, the nice tech support man gave me $7 cash for my trouble. I don't know how he came up with that number or why (I hadn't requested any compensation) but $7 is $7, right?) Is it a sign that I am a terrible writer when I use parentheses inside parentheses?
FINALLY, we get out to the car, load our purchases in and begin the awful process of changing DS3 into a new pull-up. Once that mess is cleared up, poopy diaper is properly disposed of, windows are down, and everyone is back into their seatbelts, I start the car and head out of the parking lot. And from the back seat I hear, "Mommy, I'm hungry. Can we go to McDonald's?"
I'll let you imagine for yourselves what my response was.
The End.
So, right now, this beautiful Sunday afternoon, as I should be doing my menu-planning and grocery list-making, I will recount the events of that fateful day IN FULL with no interruptions as all FOUR of my boys (this counts Dear Hubby) take naps. Thus it occurred...
My oldest son (DS5) had to be on the local Christian radio station at 8 a.m. one morning. We had to leave the house at 7:30 which is VERY early for us "late-birds" as he likes to call us. I didn't want to wake my other children up so early, so I asked my mom to come over, with the promise of a "birthday breakfast" afterwards. (Her birthday had been the day before.)
Everything went beautifully. We made it to the station, DS5 did just what he was supposed to, we made it home just in time for the Baby to wake up and be fed, and everyone was dressed and ready by 9:30 a.m. We took her to McDonald's (Mom's birthday, but the kids are the ones celebrating) and all three boys even behaved well enough that Mom and I had a good chat while we ate. Ahh, heavenly.
Mom had to be at work by noon so we took her back to our house to get her car by 11 a.m. Since all three boys were already dressed, already fed, and already strapped into their carseats, I decided to take advantage of this opportunity to head into town to get a specific errand done. (I had portraits to pick up at Target.) First wrong choice.
As we got into town I remembered that I had some mail in my purse so I made a quick stop at the main post office. Parked the car, cracked the windows, locked the doors, and ran up to the building to shove the mail in the correct mail slot. In the less-than-a-minute it took for me to get back to the car and sit in my seat, something dreadful happened. You see, I had brought my newly refilled LARGE DIET COKE (LDC) with me from McDonald's to sip on during my errand run. My LDC was still almost completely full as I pulled into my spot at the post office. My LDC was empty and the top was askew when I got back in the car. Hmm...
I sat there staring blankly at the empty cup for a few seconds as my mind whirled around the possibility that I drank it and forgot. Suddenly, I realized what happened. I looked down and noticed that there was a rapidly running-toward-the-back-of-the-van puddle of LDC streaming under my seat. As I slowly turned around my eyes met those of my DS5 in the way-back seat of the van. He had decided that he wanted to sit in MY seat and watch me run up to the building and back. He has recently graduated into a booster seat and now has the power to strap and unstrap his little body into his seatbelt at will. Obviously, on his way into my seat he knocked over my LDC and spilled it all over the front of the van. Rather than tell me what happened he picked up the empty cup and put it back into the cupholder and sprinted (if that's possible in a minivan) back to his seat. And left me to discover the disaster on my own. Oh boy.
Although this was just a terrible accident, I was still very upset. Partially at my son for not telling me what had happened (I was lucky that the spill was on the floor and not in my seat or I would have sat right in it without knowing until it was too late!). But mostly, and I'm very ashamed about this but willing to admit it, because I really LOVE an LDC...and I had lost it in a matter of seconds! Sad, I know.
Well, since I was already in town and really wanted those portraits, I decided to continue on my way even though the upholstery in my van was getting stickier and Diet-Cokier as each second passed. (That's why they invented the Spot-Bot, but that's another post entirely.) I got to Target and hauled all three sons inside. Grabbed a cart. Baby in his bucket seat attached to the front. Check. DS3 in the back basket of the cart. Check. DS5 riding on the end of the cart. Check. All is harried, but well. We head over to the diaper section and as I'm quickly comparing prices in my head, I smell something. Something poopy. Not baby poopy, although I do start there first. DS3 was in the throes of potty-training and had been doing very well. He was wearing a pull-up (thank goodness not regular underwear) and even though I had asked him before we got the cart if he had to go to the bathroom, he decided to put his poop in his "underwear" instead. I should have known when he got quiet. He was crouching in the back of the cart. Telltale signs.
You might think that this is the last of my disaster-filled morning, but you would be wrong! Because of the poopy pants, I quit price checking and just grabbed the nearest diapers that were the right size, zipped to the portrait studio to pick up those portraits that started it all, and sprinted up to the registers. At this point, Baby is getting hungry and is starting to fuss. I pick the shortest line I see and empty the cart. Baby is really starting to cry now so I calmly soothe him with words and give him my knuckle to munch on while he waits. It doesn't work. I act unconcerned, but I REALLY WANT TO GET OUT OF TARGET AS FAST AS POSSIBLE! She rings up my purchases and after I stick my Target card into the reader I wait for the signature box to pop up. I wait. Still waiting. By this time my DS5 is dancing around and getting in the way of other customers, DS3 is still poopy and crouching in the back of the cart, and Baby is screaming. AHHHHHHHH!!! Oh wait...that was me screaming...and still waiting for the signature box.
To make a long story even longer, that computer froze. She called for "tech support" and a nice man came out of his computer-y office to help. His "help" was to take me to another lane and re-ring up my entire purchase. Yes, that's right. Unpack the cart, re-load it onto a different belt, re-ring everything, and re-pack the cart. And don't forget dancing DS5, poopy and crouching DS3, and screaming Baby.
(On a positive note, the nice tech support man gave me $7 cash for my trouble. I don't know how he came up with that number or why (I hadn't requested any compensation) but $7 is $7, right?) Is it a sign that I am a terrible writer when I use parentheses inside parentheses?
FINALLY, we get out to the car, load our purchases in and begin the awful process of changing DS3 into a new pull-up. Once that mess is cleared up, poopy diaper is properly disposed of, windows are down, and everyone is back into their seatbelts, I start the car and head out of the parking lot. And from the back seat I hear, "Mommy, I'm hungry. Can we go to McDonald's?"
I'll let you imagine for yourselves what my response was.
The End.
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