The holidays are nearly done, and it's time now to take a deep breath before plunging back to the depths. Everyone was satisfied with what Santa brought, me included. Hubby did a wonderful job shopping for the clan. I received a camera which I fully intend to use as much as possible. Soon I shall be posting pictures of such treasures as The Chair of Death and the snowman flag that magically brings snow to the region. (It really doesn't, but I remember one particular winter when my dear friend and neighbor, Donna, called me on the phone and said "Take down the damn snowman - I've had enough!")
We have an old saying in the clan: "Who has more fun that us?" Recently, Ms. Business came up with the answer: "The people watching us!" I'm certain that's the case.
Today, Moink and I were standing in the express line at the grocery store. I had forgotten several items yesterday when we did the medium shopping order. (More about that some other time. Yes, there are different sized shopping trips. This was a medium.) Moink was purchasing one bottle of Pepsi. I leaned back to see how much the pop was.
"It's $1.59, but you can just give me the dollar," I said. The man behind us, who had been engaging us in friendly conversation moments before, stared at me disbelievingly.
"You aren't going to make him pay," the man said.
"He got money for Christmas - sure, he can afford it."
The gentleman was still disbelieving, and when Moink handed me a dollar, I put it in my wallet with the rest of the house money. Yes, house money. We budget a certain amount for two weeks at a time. I bought pop yesterday, but because I don't allow the children to drink 20 ounces of pop at a time, he decided to buy his own.
"You actually took the dollar!" the man exclaimed.
The cashier, a young girl, said, "My mom would have done the same thing!"
"See," I replied, "It's in the mom manual."
Moink looked at me and said, "Do you want me to carry the bag?"
I replied, "Yes, that would be nice."
The man shook his head. "You should make her carry the bag," he said.
Smiling, I said, "He's a scout, and a good kid. He'll carry the bag for his mom."
Seriously, I've got the greatest kids - and it scares me that other adults think that was too harsh!
So, Happy New Year - and I hope it holds nothing but the best for all of you, health, wealth, and lots of laughter.
Sunday, December 30, 2012
Saturday, December 15, 2012
Swimming, swimming, in our swimming pool
Aah, a small break from the holiday rush. I've tried to take a new approach to the holidays: less is more. I like a few simple decorations, but not so many that taking them down will require so much effort that they'll still be up in April! Someone recently said they don't put up a tree anymore because then you'd have to take it down. Well, I guess there's that.
I just finished doing my favorite bit of the season - the Christmas cards. I love sending greetings to friends all over the country, and one in Canada. People we see several times during the year don't get the traditional letter, but everyone else does (lucky people!), just to keep them up on what the kids are doing. Of course, we only put in the good things, like writing letters to Santa - who would ever write about how naughty one had been during the year? Not that the children are naughty - of course, they're wonderful children. With us as the parents, how could they not be? They've told us themselves how we could never be described as helicopter parents, and that we guided them to be self-sufficient - except for Moink. They understand that we're tired parents, and aren't as hard on the youngest as we were on the first four. The point is, our far away friends get to hear all about their exploits whether they want to or not!
So, to add a little humor (because humor is one way to alleviate stress), I'm including one of my favorites. We're all familiar with the "All I needed to know about life I learned..." lists that encompass many different venues. This one is what is learned from a snowman, which came on a Christmas card several years ago. My favorite is that the key to life is to be a jolly, happy soul, which is what I strive to do daily. My next favorite is about the placement of the carrot. You'll have to read it!
As Christmas approaches, I hope you're able to breathe a sigh every so often and regroup. Remember, it's a joyous time in many ways, and you'll enjoy it much more if you keep it simple.
All I Need to Know about Life I Learned from a Snowman
*It's okay if you're a little bottom heavy
*Hold your ground, even when the heat is on.
*Wearing white is always appropriate
*Winter is the best of the four seasons.
*It takes a few extra rolls to make a good midsection.
*There's nothing better than a foul weather friend.
*The key to life is to be a jolly, happy soul.
*It's not the size of the carrot, but the placement that counts.
*We're all make up of mostly water.
*You know you've made it when they write a song about you.
*Accessorize! Accessorize! Accessorize!
*Avoid yellow snow.
*Don't get too much sun.
*Don't put someone else's corncob pipe in your mouth - you don't know where it's been.
*It's embarrassing when you can't look down and see your feet.
*It's fun to hang out in your front yard.
*Always put your best foot forward (I'm still wondering how this applies to snowpeople)
*There's no stopping you once you're on a roll.
I just finished doing my favorite bit of the season - the Christmas cards. I love sending greetings to friends all over the country, and one in Canada. People we see several times during the year don't get the traditional letter, but everyone else does (lucky people!), just to keep them up on what the kids are doing. Of course, we only put in the good things, like writing letters to Santa - who would ever write about how naughty one had been during the year? Not that the children are naughty - of course, they're wonderful children. With us as the parents, how could they not be? They've told us themselves how we could never be described as helicopter parents, and that we guided them to be self-sufficient - except for Moink. They understand that we're tired parents, and aren't as hard on the youngest as we were on the first four. The point is, our far away friends get to hear all about their exploits whether they want to or not!
So, to add a little humor (because humor is one way to alleviate stress), I'm including one of my favorites. We're all familiar with the "All I needed to know about life I learned..." lists that encompass many different venues. This one is what is learned from a snowman, which came on a Christmas card several years ago. My favorite is that the key to life is to be a jolly, happy soul, which is what I strive to do daily. My next favorite is about the placement of the carrot. You'll have to read it!
As Christmas approaches, I hope you're able to breathe a sigh every so often and regroup. Remember, it's a joyous time in many ways, and you'll enjoy it much more if you keep it simple.
All I Need to Know about Life I Learned from a Snowman
*It's okay if you're a little bottom heavy
*Hold your ground, even when the heat is on.
*Wearing white is always appropriate
*Winter is the best of the four seasons.
*It takes a few extra rolls to make a good midsection.
*There's nothing better than a foul weather friend.
*The key to life is to be a jolly, happy soul.
*It's not the size of the carrot, but the placement that counts.
*We're all make up of mostly water.
*You know you've made it when they write a song about you.
*Accessorize! Accessorize! Accessorize!
*Avoid yellow snow.
*Don't get too much sun.
*Don't put someone else's corncob pipe in your mouth - you don't know where it's been.
*It's embarrassing when you can't look down and see your feet.
*It's fun to hang out in your front yard.
*Always put your best foot forward (I'm still wondering how this applies to snowpeople)
*There's no stopping you once you're on a roll.
Wednesday, December 12, 2012
A Leak in the Pool
Can you think of anything worse than a pool springing a leak? Yet, there it is. Sometimes just in the lining; sometimes in the wall, but whether the water slowly trickles or gushes, the surface level goes down and somebody is going to panic.
The Stress Pool is always suffering from leaks. Sometimes there are several going on at once. The holidays being upon us, grief often washes over us in tsunami-size waves as we remember Eggbert, who took his own life almost five years ago. Morticia is finishing her first semester of college, and finals are upon her. Want to talk stress? Talk to the girl who isn't fond of school to begin with but knows that this is her ticket to the Big World. Ms. Business is working on an essay to go to college - plus do all the silly projects expected of her at school. Silly because the holidays are approaching and sometimes it's just too crazy to start something new, so they come up with projects. This jolts Ms. Business's routine. She was also subjected to a bullying incident, and that doesn't help matters, either. Moink carries on as usual, bottling up any stress he might have. And, Big Brother (the oldest) is hoping to find a job that pays well and where he doesn't have to drive to the ends of the earth on a daily basis. See? Several small leaks that when put together create a larger hole. The water is practically gurgling.
Of course, there is no way to mend it all. I listen, apply hugs when needed. These things will all pass in time. Bullies get theirs in the end; projects are finished and turned in; jobs are found.
Grief is probably the toughest.
Then, when you think all has been patched, you find by talking with others that their pools have much larger holes. To my friends who trusted me enough today to speak of their woes, I thank you for your friendship and pray for your pools to be patched quickly. I hope, by listening, I was able to provide a little comfort and understanding.
And, to the rest of you who experience those annoying leaks, may they be patched up so you can jump right back into the pool.
My leak?
Well, Hubby asked what I wanted for Christmas, and then told me what he wanted to give me. That's another post altogether!
See you in the Pool.
The Stress Pool is always suffering from leaks. Sometimes there are several going on at once. The holidays being upon us, grief often washes over us in tsunami-size waves as we remember Eggbert, who took his own life almost five years ago. Morticia is finishing her first semester of college, and finals are upon her. Want to talk stress? Talk to the girl who isn't fond of school to begin with but knows that this is her ticket to the Big World. Ms. Business is working on an essay to go to college - plus do all the silly projects expected of her at school. Silly because the holidays are approaching and sometimes it's just too crazy to start something new, so they come up with projects. This jolts Ms. Business's routine. She was also subjected to a bullying incident, and that doesn't help matters, either. Moink carries on as usual, bottling up any stress he might have. And, Big Brother (the oldest) is hoping to find a job that pays well and where he doesn't have to drive to the ends of the earth on a daily basis. See? Several small leaks that when put together create a larger hole. The water is practically gurgling.
Of course, there is no way to mend it all. I listen, apply hugs when needed. These things will all pass in time. Bullies get theirs in the end; projects are finished and turned in; jobs are found.
Grief is probably the toughest.
Then, when you think all has been patched, you find by talking with others that their pools have much larger holes. To my friends who trusted me enough today to speak of their woes, I thank you for your friendship and pray for your pools to be patched quickly. I hope, by listening, I was able to provide a little comfort and understanding.
And, to the rest of you who experience those annoying leaks, may they be patched up so you can jump right back into the pool.
My leak?
Well, Hubby asked what I wanted for Christmas, and then told me what he wanted to give me. That's another post altogether!
See you in the Pool.
Wednesday, December 5, 2012
Feeding time at the watering hole
Antoher story, as promised.
This one involves too much to do and the wonderful monthly menu. The players are:
Hubby, Morticia (the oldest girl who wants to be a mortician), Ms. Business (she wants to go to college for marketing), and Moink, the youngest child in the household. His name really isn't Moink, but when he was in pre-school he was learning to write his name and couldn't connect all the letters properly. He proudly hung it on his bedroom door and his siblings called him Moink from there on in.
Ever have one of those lives where you find yourself spinning with everything that needs to be done, only to find you haven't moved an inch? Yup, me too, and I had one such week only a couple months ago where everything hit the fan. We missed doctor appointments and scout outings and I don't remember what else.
I do know that I was behind in everything, but dinner was on the table.
That following Monday morning I'm sitting on the kitchen stool taking my first sip of Monday morning coffee - and you know what I'm talking about - when Hubby says, "You didn't take Moink to the scout meeting yesterday."
This was a meeting to earn a religious award through boy scouts. It had been moved from another date. I can still tell you what the other date was supposed to be, but not the new one. "No, I didn't. I forgot."
"You need to look at the calendar."
"Why can't you look at the calendar?"
"I know where I'm supposed to be on Sunday afternoons, and I didn't want to insult your intelligence."
Can't have that now, can we?
Throughout the day I thought about this and finally came to the realization that the reason I was missing things was because I was rushing home to make dinner. The plan blossomed so innocently I was shocked to find it lurking there, waiting to be unleashed. I went home and made dinner.
They were all there - a true anomaly. I waited until they were in full chew.
"I missed a lot of things last week. Morticia's doctor appointment, Moink's meeting."
"Yes," they agreed in unison, still chewing.
"I have a lot of activities through the week," I said. They all nodded, chewing placidly amidst the unseen onslaught that was about to hit.
"I'm not giving up my activities. I like the writer's group and singing in choir."
"Of course," they said.
"I realized the reason I missed those things last week was because I was in a rush to get home and make dinner."
The chewing slowed.
"If I hadn't had to do that, I wouldn't have forgotten those things."
Eyes were now on me.
"I'm not going to rush home from work anymore. Most of the time Moink doesn't eat what I make - he makes something for himself. Morticia isn't even here half the time, and if I have to eat peanut butter and jelly I'm okay with that."
The chewing had completely stopped and every face (except Moink's) had that "Oh crap, what did I just step in?" look.
I smiled at Hubby and Ms. Business. "So, you two will have to coordinate on the nights I'm not able to get home to make dinner."
It's been two months and things are working out to my advantage. Moink continues to fend for himself, although he does check with me every morning to find out what's for dinner and if I'm cooking. Morticia refers to it as 'the day mom quit and began shirking her responsibilities'.
I refer to it as the day three teens and a husband were nicely asked to help out a little more. He has stepped up to the plate nicely. I still do all the shopping, although Hubby happy to help. And sometimes dinner isn't ready before six o'clock and nobody complains. I'm still chief concession chef here at the stress pool, butt that appears to be a job nobody wants. That's okay, too. Everyone seems to have come to an understanding.
Except the cat. She doesn't understand why her bowls are empty.
Ah well, not everyone can be happy all the time at the Stress Pool.
This one involves too much to do and the wonderful monthly menu. The players are:
Hubby, Morticia (the oldest girl who wants to be a mortician), Ms. Business (she wants to go to college for marketing), and Moink, the youngest child in the household. His name really isn't Moink, but when he was in pre-school he was learning to write his name and couldn't connect all the letters properly. He proudly hung it on his bedroom door and his siblings called him Moink from there on in.
Ever have one of those lives where you find yourself spinning with everything that needs to be done, only to find you haven't moved an inch? Yup, me too, and I had one such week only a couple months ago where everything hit the fan. We missed doctor appointments and scout outings and I don't remember what else.
I do know that I was behind in everything, but dinner was on the table.
That following Monday morning I'm sitting on the kitchen stool taking my first sip of Monday morning coffee - and you know what I'm talking about - when Hubby says, "You didn't take Moink to the scout meeting yesterday."
This was a meeting to earn a religious award through boy scouts. It had been moved from another date. I can still tell you what the other date was supposed to be, but not the new one. "No, I didn't. I forgot."
"You need to look at the calendar."
"Why can't you look at the calendar?"
"I know where I'm supposed to be on Sunday afternoons, and I didn't want to insult your intelligence."
Can't have that now, can we?
Throughout the day I thought about this and finally came to the realization that the reason I was missing things was because I was rushing home to make dinner. The plan blossomed so innocently I was shocked to find it lurking there, waiting to be unleashed. I went home and made dinner.
They were all there - a true anomaly. I waited until they were in full chew.
"I missed a lot of things last week. Morticia's doctor appointment, Moink's meeting."
"Yes," they agreed in unison, still chewing.
"I have a lot of activities through the week," I said. They all nodded, chewing placidly amidst the unseen onslaught that was about to hit.
"I'm not giving up my activities. I like the writer's group and singing in choir."
"Of course," they said.
"I realized the reason I missed those things last week was because I was in a rush to get home and make dinner."
The chewing slowed.
"If I hadn't had to do that, I wouldn't have forgotten those things."
Eyes were now on me.
"I'm not going to rush home from work anymore. Most of the time Moink doesn't eat what I make - he makes something for himself. Morticia isn't even here half the time, and if I have to eat peanut butter and jelly I'm okay with that."
The chewing had completely stopped and every face (except Moink's) had that "Oh crap, what did I just step in?" look.
I smiled at Hubby and Ms. Business. "So, you two will have to coordinate on the nights I'm not able to get home to make dinner."
It's been two months and things are working out to my advantage. Moink continues to fend for himself, although he does check with me every morning to find out what's for dinner and if I'm cooking. Morticia refers to it as 'the day mom quit and began shirking her responsibilities'.
I refer to it as the day three teens and a husband were nicely asked to help out a little more. He has stepped up to the plate nicely. I still do all the shopping, although Hubby happy to help. And sometimes dinner isn't ready before six o'clock and nobody complains. I'm still chief concession chef here at the stress pool, butt that appears to be a job nobody wants. That's okay, too. Everyone seems to have come to an understanding.
Except the cat. She doesn't understand why her bowls are empty.
Ah well, not everyone can be happy all the time at the Stress Pool.
Monday, December 3, 2012
Checking the waters
Everyone has them. Those days where everything seems to be starting out well, and before you know it, your finger gets slammed in the car door. Or, you're in the middle of something at work and you get a call from school saying one of the kids is sick and you need to come and pick them up (please, before they infect the entire population!) You think you paid a bill on time and find it under the computer table, a day or more late.
Welcome to the stress pool.
This blog is solely intended to be a fun place to air all the crazy things that happen daily - the shark fins in the water, so to speak.
Today, the youngest child got sick at school. It's nearly the end of the school day. I know this because my last class had just walked in. No, he can't go home on the bus. I end up not having class and getting to our middle school just as the high school buses are arriving. Normally, this is a bad thing, especially when you drive a small car! Miraculously, he's able to walk to the car, and after alerting his sister that we're on the premises (should she rather have a ride home instead of taking the bus), the three of us arrive home safe and sound. Now, I can start dinner.
Dinner at our house runs hot or cold, and I don't mean temperature. Either I have the energy and genius of Giada or I don't. After working all day it's generally an "I don't." Today I was feeling it, yet a simple fare was planned. Yes, planned. We make a monthly menu of what we're going to have for dinner. It's helpful when grocery shopping (as long as Hubby has pulled out the recipes - he makes the menu) and there is usually no question as to what's for dinner. Now that the kids are older it helps them decide what night they should plan on eating out! Tonight was keilbassa and pierogie.
I love keilbassa (which we buy fresh at the butcher) baked with sauerkraut. Adding ginger ale and brown sugar sweetens the deal, and if you bake it for at least an hour at 350 degrees, it comes out all swelled up and full of flavor.
Frozen peirogie fit our lifestyle the best, although there is a nice little local church that makes them fresh every friday. I tried it once - took me all day to make them and took them five minutes to eat! Anyway, I boiled them, fried them in butter and onions, and put them into a covered casserole dish to finish them up in the oven alongside the keilbassa. Then, I sat down in the chair of death.
The chair of death is a recliner also referred to as "The Queen's Chair." In this house, I am the queen, yet for some reason I don't always get to sit in that seat! Guaranteed, when I do, you can believe I'm going to fall asleep. Which is what I did. Two hours later, the keilbassa was steamy and hot, done perfectly. The pierogie - well, they tasted good but were a little crisp.
One of the children said, "I don't care what snide remarks dad made, I enjoyed the peirogie chips!"
Minnesota Chicken and Wild Rice Soup is on the menu tomorrow - I don't know what makes it Minnesotan. Hubby is in charge of dinner for tomorrow. See, there's a story about the time I lured them into a false sense of security before unleashing upon them the idea that I wasn't going to cook every night, but I've said enough for today and will save that one for another time.
Welcome to the stress pool.
This blog is solely intended to be a fun place to air all the crazy things that happen daily - the shark fins in the water, so to speak.
Today, the youngest child got sick at school. It's nearly the end of the school day. I know this because my last class had just walked in. No, he can't go home on the bus. I end up not having class and getting to our middle school just as the high school buses are arriving. Normally, this is a bad thing, especially when you drive a small car! Miraculously, he's able to walk to the car, and after alerting his sister that we're on the premises (should she rather have a ride home instead of taking the bus), the three of us arrive home safe and sound. Now, I can start dinner.
Dinner at our house runs hot or cold, and I don't mean temperature. Either I have the energy and genius of Giada or I don't. After working all day it's generally an "I don't." Today I was feeling it, yet a simple fare was planned. Yes, planned. We make a monthly menu of what we're going to have for dinner. It's helpful when grocery shopping (as long as Hubby has pulled out the recipes - he makes the menu) and there is usually no question as to what's for dinner. Now that the kids are older it helps them decide what night they should plan on eating out! Tonight was keilbassa and pierogie.
I love keilbassa (which we buy fresh at the butcher) baked with sauerkraut. Adding ginger ale and brown sugar sweetens the deal, and if you bake it for at least an hour at 350 degrees, it comes out all swelled up and full of flavor.
Frozen peirogie fit our lifestyle the best, although there is a nice little local church that makes them fresh every friday. I tried it once - took me all day to make them and took them five minutes to eat! Anyway, I boiled them, fried them in butter and onions, and put them into a covered casserole dish to finish them up in the oven alongside the keilbassa. Then, I sat down in the chair of death.
The chair of death is a recliner also referred to as "The Queen's Chair." In this house, I am the queen, yet for some reason I don't always get to sit in that seat! Guaranteed, when I do, you can believe I'm going to fall asleep. Which is what I did. Two hours later, the keilbassa was steamy and hot, done perfectly. The pierogie - well, they tasted good but were a little crisp.
One of the children said, "I don't care what snide remarks dad made, I enjoyed the peirogie chips!"
Minnesota Chicken and Wild Rice Soup is on the menu tomorrow - I don't know what makes it Minnesotan. Hubby is in charge of dinner for tomorrow. See, there's a story about the time I lured them into a false sense of security before unleashing upon them the idea that I wasn't going to cook every night, but I've said enough for today and will save that one for another time.
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