Wednesday, January 30, 2008
Insecurity, thy name is hok
After my third revision, I realized that I'm worried it's not good enough.
This is new for me. I'm pretty good at recognizing when something isn't written well and either scrapping it all together or doing a major rewrite, all without any major psychic drama. But now I'm blocked.
I think the problem is that I've had several very nice comments and compliments lately from readers. Some are from friends and some are from bloggers whose blogs I read an admire. The compliments have thrown me into a tailspin. Now that I've had positive feedback, I'm terrified that anything I post won't live up to expectations.
Which leads to a further problem - I like receiving positive comments, who wouldn't. But what do I do if I keep getting all locked up every time I receive one?
Maybe I should just shut up and write already.
Monday, January 28, 2008
Back to Target
This Saturday, however, I had to go to Target. I really did. Believe me, given that I had a migraine AND three kids to tote along, I didn't go because I wanted to.
Two weeks ago I was rear-ended on MoPac. Traffic had come to a quick stop. I managed to stop in time, but I watched the guy behind me in the mirror and braced myself for impact. Maybe if he had hit the brakes before he hit the horn, things would have turned out differently, but who am I to judge. It was a minor fender bender. My back bumper needs to replaced, and the guy who hit me will have to replace his license plate holder.
Anyway, when I was on the phone with the claims person from his insurance company, the man asked if I had kids in the car when I got hit. When I said yes, he asked if they had been in car seats. I said of course. And that's when he told me I needed to replace all the car seats. I said, "Really? It was such a minor accident. The airbags didn't even go off." He said, again, that I had to replace them all, even the girls' booster seats.
So off to Target we went for new car seats, which everyone thought was very exciting. We also needed to get a new bike helmet for Ella because the strap on her old one just snapped last week when she put it on. She ended up wearing my helmet home from the park while I risked possible brain damage.
I was very proud of myself when we left Target. I bought exactly what I went in there for: one car seat, two booster seats, one bike helmet, one gallon of milk, one thing of laundry detergent. I resisted the girls' pleas for new movies, and I didn't get any fun magazines. I bought only what we needed and walked out again.
Yay me.
But I'm starting the clock over again - no more Target for 30 days.
Sunday, January 27, 2008
Bruiser
Saturday, January 26, 2008
Poor little brother
Friday, January 25, 2008
Knitting stuff
The next day, I cast on a pair of socks for me. I've given away everything I've knit so far, but you'll have to pry this pair off my cold, dead feet. I love, love, love the wool, which my mom gave me for Christmas.
The toy
Wednesday, January 23, 2008
One bright spot
Today, one of my best friends, H, watched Campbell while I took B for his injections, and when I picked Campbell up, H handed me a note. In the note was a list of all the things H thinks of when she thinks about me. It is a wonderful list of very nice traits that I sometimes forget I have. There was also a lovely note on the back. I sobbed when I read it. And I teared up again when I dropped her son off after preschool and saw her. It is without a doubt the kindest, sweetest thing any friend has done for me. It means more than I can ever fully express.
I will treasure that note forever and will keep it someplace safe so I can pull it out on bad days as a reminder. So thank you H; you provided one bright spot in a very dark and dreary week.
Tuesday, January 22, 2008
Barf - gross-out alert
Last night I gave Campbell his pre-bed cup of milk and stood up to take him off to his room. He puked all over the floor. I figured it was just a really big urp and took him in his room to change his clothes. We got as far as the hallway before he threw up again, this time all over me.
I got him changed and settled him down while B did the clean up. After about 30 minutes with no more vomit, I popped Campbell into bed. Fifteen minutes later he started screaming. I went in and found him and his crib covered. So I stripped him and sent B in to pull everything out of the crib and load it in the washer.
Campbell threw up one more time, but we got him safely tucked into bed, vomit-free by about 9:00. I was mad at B and Ella, thanks to her thermonuclear meltdown over a toy, so I stomped off to bed to read.
About half an hour later, B came in to tell me that Lily had thrown up all over her bed. This time, I ended up cleaning it all up while B took Lily off to our bathroom for a shower. And when I say all over her bed, I mean it. She got the wall next to the bed, her headboard, all her pillows, most of her stuffed animals, and her various little blankets in addition to the floor. I have visions of her head spinning around as she threw up.
We finally got everything cleaned up and Lily tucked back into bed at about 10:00. B put a big pot next to her in bed as her barf bucket, which came in handy about half an hour later and again at 3:00 am.
Fortunately, we've been vomit free all morning, but between Ella's tantrum and the illness, I'm wiped out, physically and emotionally. The kids are in bed for a nap, and I think I'm going to lie down, too.
The hill I died on
But it all went to hell in the afternoon.
The girls share a room and sleep in bunk beds. They keep a lot of their toys in a trundle that rolls under the bottom bunk. When I first got the trundle, I organized all their toys in nicely labelled clear plastic bins - it was a fit of pregnancy-induced nesting. The system lasted all of a week before falling apart as the girls just chunked toys in wherever. I've cleaned it up a few times since then, but lately it had gotten really bad and was getting on my nerves.
When Ella got home from the neighbors' house, I offered her a buck to clean out the trundle and sort things back into their bins. She worked on it for about 15 minutes before declaring herself bored and forfeiting the dollar.
I went in to take a look and found this.
I decided I couldn't possibly just put all the bins back in the trundle and tuck it away; half the job was already done. So I grabbed a trash bag and more bins and started to work while the girls were busy watching PBS Kids. I figured I was home free. But then Ella wandered in and saw what I was up to and started crying about how I was throwing away her favorite toys that she loved so much. I tried to reassure her that I wasn't throwing out any toys that weren't broken or ruined, but she wasn't buying it. And, honestly, I didn't throw out any of their treasured stuff, just the flotsam and jetsam of broken crayons, worn-out markers, dried up paint, and scraps of paper and other trash.
But Ella had spotted, through the bag, this Diego notepad she had bought at her school's book fair last spring. It has this special coating on it, that when you paint on it with water, changes colors. The coating wore off long ago, and the special paint brush has long since disappeared. Even though Ella hasn't played with the thing in months, she decided then and there that it was her most special toy ever because it helped her remember her first-ever school book fair.
I told her to leave the bedroom and let me finish. She went back in the living room but came back in her room every few minutes sobbing uncontrolably, which then turned into shrieking at the top of her lungs loud enough that it scared Campbell. Lily joined in with the crying for a few minutes, but after I reassured her that I wasn't throwing away her splinter or her lovies, she was mostly fine.
When I tried to take the trash bag out to the garbage, Ella clung to it with her whole body, sobbing and wailing as though I were throwing out everything she owned.
Now I know that at this point I could have simply taken the Diego thing out of the bag and given it to her, but I felt like that would have been rewarding her rather terrible behavior. She was screaming "You may not do this to me! You are not allowed to do this! I'm telling Dada on you! You are the worst mother in history!" And really, there need to be consequences. So I detached her from the bag and took it out.
When I came back in I sent Lily to Campbell's room and Ella to mine so that we could all take a breather and cool off. Ella brought me out a long piece of toilet paper on which she had written, "I will give you every dime and pennie I have to not trow away my toys." I went in my room to try to talk her down and explain why I had thrown things away, but all she did was yell and scream. I walked out, telling her that she had to stay in my room until daddy got home.
Lily had calmed down enough that I let her out of Campbell's room and enlisted her help in finishing sorting toys into bins and putting them into the trundle, which she did quite cheerfully, chattering the whole time about this, that and the other. Why is it that when one child has lost her freaking mind, the other is on her absolute best behavior?
B arrived home to have Ella come out of the room to tell on me. He just nodded and sent her back in. B, Lily, Campbell and I all ate dinner together (which I would later realize was a big mistake), and then I took Lily and Campbell off to take a bath in my bathroom. I checked on Ella, who had retreated under my bed, and found her like this.
We left her sleeping under our bed and got the little kids bathed and tucked in to their beds. Ella staggered out a while later, and under duress, apologized to me for her behavior. B gave her a plate of dinner and sent her off to bed when she had finished. But once she was in bed, the waterworks started again.
She went on and on about how maybe the toys weren't really broken and how Thursday, which is garbage day, was going to be the saddest day of her life because then she would never see her toys again.
B lost his patience at this point and started yelling at me about how I just had to pick this hill to die on and how I'd better clean up my mess. That didn't help my mood. I was already feeling like the worst mom ever, and to have him gang up on me didn't help. I gave Ella a final warning and stomped off to bed to read.
The fun continued at 9:00 when Lily threw up all over her bed, and the wall, and the headboard, and her stuffed animals, and Ella continued to hector me about the toys while I was cleaning everything up. She started in again at 3:00 am when I was up with Lily, who was throwing up more. And the first words out of Ella's mouth when she woke up this morning were about the toys. She wants me to dig the toys out of the trash and take pictures of them to help her remember them.
This morning I'm feeling horribly guilty about it all. I shouldn't have thrown stuff away while the girls were around; I know how they get about their stuff, even if it is just garbage. But, again, I just couldn't bear to put the trundle back in half cleaned. And perhaps I should have given the dang toy back, but I really felt it would be rewarding bad behavior. Besides, Ella really needs to learn that you can't keep every little thing. She'd keep every Tootsie-Pop and Hershey's Kiss wrapper if I let her.
So this morning I'm nursing my mug of tea, pretending it's coffee, and feeling like the meanest mom in history, even though I know I'm not. This one incident alone won't send Ella into therapy when she's older.
Monday, January 21, 2008
It's going to be one of those days
But that plan is not to be.
First, it's raining, so no bike riding.
Second, Lily and Campbell are sick. Campbell just has a runny nose and a bad attitude. He's smart enough now to run away whenever he sees me coming with a Kleenex, so he has a perpetual trail of slime on his face. Ick.
Lily is worse off. She's running a fever and complaining of a sore throat, which worries me. Apparently, strep throat is making the rounds of preschools. One of Lily's friends, with whom she had a play date last week, has strep, and I'm afraid germs may have been shared before our little friend was showing any signs of being ill. When she's sick, Lily just turns puny and whiny, and she wants to be in my lap constantly, which isn't convenient when I'm trying to clean up the house and get some work done.
Ella, however, is healthy, and I'm predicting lots of complaints about boredom today. I'm hesitant to call in reinforcements and send her off to a friend's house because maybe she's on the verge of having whatever Lily has. I'd hate to be "that" mom who sends her sick kid off to play. I think I may have to resort to letting Ella watch the fourth Harry Potter movie, which Lily isn't allowed to watch, while Lily is napping. The promise of the special movie is usually enough to buy a fair amount of cooperation from Ella.
Fortunately, I started the day with a good, if damp, run. It's the first time in weeks that I haven't come home borderline hypothermic. With any luck, the endorphins from the run will enable me, and the children, to survive the day.