Single parenting

I now have a whole new appreciation for what single moms, make that single parents, do every day. I don't know how they manage. B's only been out of town since yesterday morning, and I'm already at my wit's end.

It's the little things that you don't think about that are the hardest. Like I need to get the oil changed in my car before our possibly canceled trip to the coast on Wednesday. But doing so means dragging all three kids to the dealership with me, which isn't high on my list of fun things. I bartered with a neighbor, and she watched the kids for an hour this morning so I could take the car to the dealership. Turns out there was a wait of more than an hour (they didn't tell me this until after I'd been there 20 minutes). I didn't want to make the neighbor stay at the house that long with six kids - her three, my three - so I left. But the oil still needs to be changed. I'm planning to go tomorrow morning when the shop opens and bribe the kids with promises of treats from the bakery if they behave. That'll work for the girls, but not for Campbell. It could be a difficult 30 minutes.

Or running - how do I get to go running? The girls are going to a party tomorrow morning from 9:30 until lunchtime. I suppose I could pop Campbell in the jogger while they're gone, but I don't relish the idea of running that late in the morning when it's nice and hot. But it's what I need to do if I'm going to get a run in.

And who relieves single parents when they're sick? I wound up with a killer migraine at about 11 this morning, so bad that I was nauseated for several hours. I packed the girls off to seperate rooms for quiet time and let the baby crawl around in the living room, destroying the newspaper while I rested on the sofa. The headache's mostly gone, but I still don't feel well, and it's still four hours until bedtime. How do I keep everyone entertained, especially since I don't feel well enough to load everyone in the car for a field trip to the bookstore or library?

These brief spells of single parenting make me so profoundly gratefull for B and everything he does around the house, even if I do grinch about how he doesn't take out the garbage. Having a partner in this adventure called parenting makes things so much easier. My hat is off to all those who are doing it on their own.

Not part of the "Country Club" set

I recently read a post on the blog ValuewIt about how members of the "country club" set are having more and more children. Bitsy, the blog's author, heard a piece on NPR that said affluent families are now having three or more children and referred to the trend as "competitive birthing." The idea is that these women have quit their high-powered, high-paying jobs to be moms and are transferring their competitive, business energy into having children.

The comments on the post were interesting. One woman said that having more children has become acceptable because families are willing to hire "support staff" to help with raising the children and that if she could afford staff, she'd have more. I felt the need to throw my two cents in, which I shouldn't have. I posted that I have three kids, not out of a need for competition, but because I love babies and that if we had a larger house, car and income, I'd be tempted to have more kids.

But then there were other responses that got my hackles up. One said that only wealthy people can afford to put gas in the huge SUVs, so they might as well have lots of kids to fill up the seats. Another said that anyone who has kids as a status symbol has something wrong with them. One other mother adopted a holier-than-thou tone about her one kid and her Prius. Even though I'm neither an SUV driver nor a status-symbol mom, I felt the need to defend myself. But I held off. I worried that if I posted a response, it could start a flame war. I know and like Bitsy, and I didn't want to be the cause of unpleasantness on her blog. However, I feel the need to say something.

So I'm responding here. This is what I almost posted:

I'm not a member of the country club set. Not even close. We don't belong to a country club, never have. We live in a 1600 square-foot house in one of the not-quite-gentrified neighborhoods in north central Austin. We have to rely on our free neighborhood pool for splash time, not the residents-only pool you find in the more exclusive sub-divisions. I drive a Hyundai Tucson, with all three kids crammed in the back seat, not some ginormous SUV with seating for 10. Except for the cleaning lady who comes once every other week, I don't have support staff. It's me and my husband raising our kids, cooking, cleaning and caring for them. We didn't have kids to show off how wealthy we are. Instead, we've deliberately chosen a streamlined and economised lifestyle that allows me to be at home full time. I'm proud that I'm an ordinary mom raising her kids. I enjoy what I do, aside from the occasional temper tantrum, sibling war and long rainy day. I'm sure there are parents out there who have kids to show off, who look at them as status symbols, but please don't lump everyone who has more than two children into that category. Some of us have larger families because we like having kids and being parents.

There, now I feel better.

Playdates galore

I seem to have become the queen of playdates this week. On Tuesday I had 9 kids here, all of whom but the babies worked on perler beads. Today I hosted A and O while their mom ran errands. It was one of the few playdates we've had with one of Lily's friends. Usually we have Ella's friends here and Lily just has to tag along.

It was a bit tough for a while this morning. A wanted to play with Ella, the big girl, but Lily didn't want to do more perler beads with them. I finally asked Walter's mom if Ella could go over there to play. Once Ella left, Lily was much happier - she had her friend all to herself to play dress up and babies with. O and Campbell and I did puzzles, which was fun. Campbell destroyed the puzzles as fast as O and I put them together.

This afternoon Walter is here while his mom is at the store. He and Lily are watching Winnie the Pooh while Ella does perler beads, again.

I really like that our house is a popular play place for my kids and their friends. I hope that I'm something of the "fun mom" to visit. Despite the noise and mess, I like the commotion of lots of kids hanging out and playing. It makes me feel like I'm doing my job of "mom" right.

Now I'm going to go make popcorn and lemonade for the kids' movie-time snack.

Farewell, GrammarNotes

Hallelujah and praise the Lord. The project that has been occupying most of my time since late January is 98 percent over. I have to do a few passes of review for problems, but the hard work is over, and I couldn't be happier.

GrammarNotes is a huge collection (about 60 total) of powerpoint presentations on, you guessed it, grammar and its fundamentals. There are three levels of instruction, and most of the presentations are repeated through each level, with slight variations depending on the target age of the students. There are only so many times you can review a presentation on using semicolons before you lose the will to go on.

The worst part is that working on GrammarNotes affected my writing, and not for the best. I suddenly started analyzing my sentences, diagramming them and labeling phrases and clauses and appositives in my head. I would freeze up wondering whether I'd punctuated something correctly. Fortunately, now that I'm finished with the project, all those worries are drifting away. I can go back to being my usual ungrammatical self. Although I'll still use "who" and "whom" and "which" and "that" correctly. My mother drilled those lessons into my head to firmly for me to forget.

I cleaned my office out today, removing the piles of paper from copyediting that had accumulated since January. The papers filled an entire diaper box, which Campbell found very interesting.

The Knitting Project, Part III

Here's the final installment of mom's knitting gallery. There are a few more sweaters she's made for the girls that I haven't posted, but I figured it was time to show off the stuff she made for me and for Campbell.

Mom gave me this purse for my birthday. It looks neon in the picture, but in real life it's not at all. She said that she started out with a huge, somewhat shapeless bag that she then washed several times in hot water to "felt" it. Amazingly, the huge shapeless bag turned into this really cool purse. I've had knitters stop me in stores and at the car wash to ask if I knit and felted the purse myself. I guess true knitters recognize good work!

Mom started this bunting for Campbell before he was born, but she couldn't finish until he had arrived because she wanted the buttons to be on the right side - like a new baby would know the difference between girl-side and boy-side buttons. But it was worth the wait - it kept him toasty warm last winter, especially one day when his diaper exploded all over his clothing, and he rode home in the car bundled into this little suit.

Mom gave me the hat and booties last May when we were in Atlanta for my dad's birthday. They are without a doubt the hippest, coolest combo I've ever seen on a baby. There is another tinier pair of booties, but they don't have the cool tassle on the heel. Campbell outgrew both sets of booties pretty quickly, but the hat is big enough and stretchy enough that he should be able to wear it again this winter, provided he'll agree to leave the hat on for longer than 10 seconds.

This was Campbell's first official Christmas sweater from Gran. It's a gorgeous basketweave pattern. The folded sleeve is hiding a spit-up stain that I haven't been able to get out. I need to try again before I pack it into the cedar chest for my grandchildren to wear someday.

Anidiotsays "Wha?"

That's me today, the idiot saying "Wha?" I think my fall may have shaken my brains lose. Other possibilities for my brain deadness include the 9 kids I had in my kitchen this morning, the buzzing feeling I have as a result of my asthma inhaler and iced tea, and the plastic fumes I've been breathing all day.

Thanks to Barb, I decided I'd let the girls do Perler bead projects this morning. It turned into a huge group effort thanks to my willingness to have every kid on the block come play. First, Lisa E asked if I could watch Walter while she went to a meeting at his school. Of course I said yes. Walt's easy to have at the house; he and Lily, despite the age difference, love, love, love each other. Once I knew Walter was coming over, I invited Matilda to join us for a morning of arts and crafts. Then Lisa R called to ask if Luke and Molly could hang out for a while so she and Russell could go to a meeting. "What the heck," I said. "The more the merrier." Fortunately Heidi hung around and helped supervise, so it wasn't me against all the kids.

Before everyone arrived, the girls and I went to Hobby Lobby and bought 10,500 beads. Ella was very impressed with that high a number. The amazing thing was how involved in the projects the kids got. Each made several "things," and the girls were still at it with the sitter when I got home from a few hours away from the house. Here's our collection with Lily's head for perspective.

At dinner, my dementia got much worse. I actually told Lily to turn off the table and come to the TV. The girls just stared. Then I told Lily to eat more of her corn, even though she had finished it and I really wanted her to eat her chicken. There are other examples of mangled sentences that I can't even remember. B will confirm that I was a mess. The finale was realizing, just as everyone finished their meals and cleared their plates, that the bread was still in the oven. Big sigh.

I'm hopeful that once everyone is in bed I'll be able to unscramble my brains and get a good night's sleep. Maybe by then my whole body won't hurt from all my injuries. I went on Ella and Lily's theory that band-aids make you feel better and bought a new box of SpongeBob bandages at the store. So far they're not working. The cuts on my knees still hurt. I took pictures of my wounds, but they didn't come out well, so I'll spare everyone the scary sight.

Until next time, "Wha?"

Faceplant

It's happened again - I fell while running. And this time it's a doozy. I scraped up both hands and both knees, got a bit of road rash on my stomach, bruised my hip and knocked my chin on the pavement. Usually when I fall, I manage to roll off to one side, but this time I went flat on my stomach.

I blame the fall on my stiff neck, which I got as a result of inner-tubing behind the boat this weekend. Ella and I were on the tube together when B decided he needed to whip across the wake really fast. I lost my grip first and went flying. Julia said I did at least one somersault, but it felt more like three. Ella went flying, too, and when I popped up she was floating beside me with big, scared eyes. That night something in my neck popped and I've been sore and stiff ever since. It hurts to look down, so I wasn't watching my footing while running like I usually do. I have no idea what it was I tripped over: It could have been an ant.

Despite the bangs and scrapes, I was more worried about my glasses and my iPod, which were both tucked in the waist of my shorts. Fortunately both survived without injury.

I'm already worried about my left knee. The knee cap has already turned purple and started to swell beneath the cuts. It would be just my luck to have done some real damage this time around. I just can't seem to catch a break with running this summer.

Lily seems to have to inherited my lack of land-based coordination. Her poor knees and shins are a mess of bruises and scrapes from her many falls. Last week she wiped out at the Central Market playground and came over crying and bleeding. Once B cleaned her up, we realized that she didn't have a new injury - she had just ripped the scab off an old one.

Most of the time Lily pops right up after she falls and shouts, "I'm OK!" I would have liked to have done that this morning, but instead I just sat on the sidewalk, using my bandana to wipe off the blood and muttering miserably about how much I hate running right now.

Knitting project, Part II

Here are some more of mom's creations.

These are this year's Christmas sweaters for the girls. The top is Ella's.

This is a sweet little sweater for Lily. Here's a close-up of the knitted lace that's on the collar, waist and cuffs and the cute bunny buttons.

Mom made this pink sweater for Ella's second Christmas. Looking at it now, it's hard to believe Ella was ever small enough to wear it. If I remember correctly, it's a shaker knit pattern.

Yay Lily!

A few months ago I wrote about frustration with Lily's lack of enthusiasm for the water during her swim lessons, and last week I wrote about Lily's progrss at the lake. Well, yesterday was another great day for Lily.

She wanted me to get in the water and swim with her and a noodle. I convinced her to come down the ladder without my help and got her to hold onto the noodle instead of my neck. After a few minutes of floating like that, I slowly edged away from her until I was just holding the very end of the noodle. Then I let go. She bobbed around for a minute before she noticed I wasn't holding on. Before she could get upset, I told her how great it was that she was FLOATING BY HERSELF!!!! That was all it took.

By the end of the day she was climbing into the lake with her noodle without any help and without a grownup with her. We had to keep an extra-close eye because she kept getting in without telling us what she was doing.

I think next time we go she'll be ready to just swim with her life jacket on. I'm so thrilled at the progress she's made over the past few months. It was more than I hoped for.

Lily also had another exciting first this weekend. On Saturday she figured out how to climb up into the front tree and get back down again without any help. Now she can get in the tree just like Ella, even if she can't climb as high.

I "heart" Target

I had to stop going to Target. I found myself going there for no real reason at all. For example, I'd need dog food, so instead of going to HEB and picking some up along with my usual grocercies, I'd go to Target because it's cheaper there. The problem was that I'd spend another $100 on crud that we don't really need - some new clothes for the kids, bribery toys for behaving in the store, magazines, DVDs. I'd go in for $20 of dog food and come out with $100 of stuff.

It was even worse when I decided I needed "Target stuff" like dog food and paper towels AND groceries, because then I'd head off to SuperTarget. I'd come out of there with all the usual random Target stuff and expensive groceries. They advertise lower prices, and some stuff is less expensive, but the overall bill is always more than good old HEB. Plus there's the 20-minute drive to get there.

I just love going to Target. There's no other way to say it.

So I cut myself off, cold turkey. I buy the dog food at HEB even if it is $2.00 more expensive there, and I order diapers from 800diapers.com, which delivers them to my house.

But tonight I broke down. I made my first trip to Target in two months - to buy Ella's school supplies for first grade. I was a little nervous about going. It's my equivalent of sending a compulsive gambler into a casino for a quick hand of poker. I found everything on Ella's list except the red pencils with erasers, and I didn't buy any extra supply stuff like a backpack or lunchbox. Hers from last year will work just fine. I also didn't buy her a first-day outfit because I want her to pick out her own. I've decided that's our little ritual.

Other than school supplies I bought snacks for the lake trip tomorrow and some baby food. I can almost honestly say that I only bought necessary items; "almost" because I did break down and buy a People magazine and a bag of Twizzlers. I couldn't help myself.