life with WE

Must be present to win...

I've been realizing that there are many times in a day that I am not present.  Oh I'm here.  And I can hear you, but I'm not really listening.  Not really focusing.  Not really IN each moment.

And that's shitty.

It's bad for my relationships.  Bad for my kids.  Bad for my husband.  Is it really that hard to slow down, quit multitasking, and handle life one moment at a time?  Apparently it is because I haven't managed to do it. 

I need to stop.  To slow down.  To quit doing the dishes while Warren tells me how his day was.  To quit telling Elaine that I'll play with her "in a minute" because I'm very busy doing laundry.  When I'm on the phone with a friend, I need to sit down, turn off the background and be present in the conversation.  I miss and forget so many things because I wasn't really paying attention the first time.  I need to talk with Mike, not just at him.  And not in the five minute commercial break of a show we're watching.  

(Right now, I am watching a movie, eating ice cream, and typing this blog entry.  Yeah, how about doing one thing at a time Jenny?  One thing?)

At the end of the day, it doesn't matter how clean  my house is.  It doesn't matter how much laundry I've done or how many things I've managed to do at once.  What matters is my family and friends.  And giving them my full attention.  They deserve that.

Why can't I do that?

I think you do have to be present to win.  I'm going to work on that.

Here comes the sun doo do doo do, here comes the sun...

Put down the hammer.  Step away from the ark.  Look at the sky...

It's the sun!  THE FREAKING SUN!  Oh my gah would you look at that.

So, um yeah.  No more excuses about the poopy weather deterring my workouts.  And no more blaming the wather for my depression.  I gots to get to gettin'.

More words that make you go ewww: 

• gots 
• And people who say ruf for roof. 
• And people who say farty for fourty. 
• And people who pray to the Lard.  You mean Crisco?  Or do you mean the Lord? 
• And finna.  I'm finna do dat.  Finna?

I'm out building an ark

will return to posting later...

Goodbye tacos, hello meatloaf!

Two nights ago, he had four servings of broccoli salad.  I should not have been surprised then last night when he reached for his third serving of meatloaf, but I was.

W: Mom, what did you call this?

Me: Uh, meatloaf.

W:  I love it!  Can you send this in my thermos in my lunch sometime?  I would love to eat this again!

Me:  What?  Sure.

W:  I'm going to get the thermos and make sure I can get my fork in there to get it out.  Can you make this again this weekend?

Me:  Wha?

W:  I mean I think this is now my new favorite.  When you let us pick what dinners we want during the week, this is going to be the one I pick.  This is so good!

Me:  Wha?

E:  Mom?  I don't like this chicken meat you made.

Of course.  One kid loves it, the other - not so much.  But  meatloaf...really?  I hated it as a kid.  I admit it's a darn good meatloaf I make, but wow.  That Warren, he's something, no?

Words that make you go ewwww!

I'm trying to figure what to blog about today.  When I logged into typepad (which is who powers this blog - powers, that's kind of funny), the prompt on the main page was:

What is your least favorite word? 

Immediately a gazillion words come to mind.  But if I had to pick the one that drives me insane, and is like nails on a chalkboard is ain't.

Ain't.

Ain't ain't a word.  And when anyone uses it I immediately tune out.  Because to me, using ain't in a sentence just makes you sound uneducated.  Oh it gets on my last nerve.

What about you?  What is your least favorite word?

Oh and were you curious about what other words made my list?  They are:

supposably (not a word), irregardless (also not a word), manure (for you seinfeld fans), penetration (have always hated that word), several bad words which I will not write but they begin with the letters c and p, like (when used too often by teenage girls) and many more.

The two year old returns in the form of a seven year old!

Remember how not too long ago I wrote about how Warren was such a mess at age two, but look at him now he's so wonderful?  And then I swooned and thanked my lucky stars for such a darling son?

Well of course, he turned into the devil the other night as retribution.  Duh.

It was reminiscent of the age 2 deal.  We had a cub scout pack meeting where he as all good - chill, listening, paying attention.  I had to correct several of the other kids in our den as well as a nearby den because God forbid we ask first through fifth graders to sit quietly for an hour while their friends and sometimes themselves get awards.  Anywho...  At the end of the meeting, Warren asked if he could run around the gym for a few minutes with his friends, while I helped put away chairs and gathered up our stuff.  I said sure, he had five minutes.

Of course, that five minutes was more like ten, but that's beside the point.

I gave him a three minute warning.  I gave him a one minute warning.  I gathered all my stuff and told him it was time to go.

Enter the devil.  And the head spin.  And the scary voice.

He stopped dead in his tracks, looked me in the eye, clenched his fists and then shook with fury.  "YOU ARE SO MEAN!  I HATE YOU!  IT'S NOT FAIR!  ARGGGGGGGGGGGGGGGGGG!"

People, I was dumbfounded.  Befuddled.  Confused even.  And I wanted to grab him by the scruff of the neck and drag him out of there, but there were people around and I was in shock and anyway he had run off.  Run off.

Outside, into the dark parking lot of the school where 109 boys and their parents are getting into cars and pulling out.  Dark parking lot + angry boy who doesn't pay attention to cars on a good day = not a good combination.

I go outside, my arms FULL of the junk from the meeting and call him.  Warren?  Warren!  Warren?  He does not answer, does not appear.  I'm pissed, but not letting it show.  I ask the people nearest me - have you seen my son?  No, they haven't.  Of course not, they are all dressed the same and in the dark and ugh!  I called three more times and finally he appeared from the other side of an evergreen.  Still growling at me, still screaming.  Still telling me how mean and unfair I am while basically frothing at the mouth.

"Get in the car," I hissed through clenched teeth, seriously wishing I could drop my stuff and smack his butt!

"And I want ice cream!" he added as he got in the car.

Are you freaking kidding me?

We got in, I rolled up the windows and let out a tirade.  As I'm yelling/stern talking/ hissing/ whatever, he keeps saying sorry, sorry, sorry but in this whole attitude voice which really  meant 'I'm not sorry but I wish you'd shut the f up'.

We got home, I sent him directly upstairs to get into bed, and then he got it.  And the tears came and he was truly sorry.  But of course added a dig that he was crying because I'd used such a mean voice and hurt his feelings.  Really?  Really!  Really?  Um yeah buddy.  You deserved that mean voice!

And then I had a glass of wine and some dip and all was right again with the world.  The next morning it was forgotten.  Until he said, "please don't talk about yesterday anymore."  Um sure, except when I write about it on my blog, okay?  Love you!

Five minutes of peace

Today I am thankful for the few moments I have to myself after I get my kids on the bus.  I think it is very important to have even five minutes to yourself each day.  Five minutes where you worry about no one but yourself.  Five minutes to sip your coffee, drink your soda, take a nap - whatever it is that resets you.  Get up early if you have to.  Stay up late if you have to.  Whatever you do, take five minutes.

My children didn't listen to a freaking word I said this morning while getting ready for school.  They fought me around every turn - they didn't want to get dressed yet.  They didn't want to wear jackets.  Why were we out of poptarts?  Why does Elaine have to go to the Cub Scout meeting this evening?  Why does Warren have to take shower tonight?  I am not the boss of them.  I am mean.  Blah blah blah.  I tell you I was about to scream at the bus stop, but I didn't. 

The bus pulled away, and I turned to walk back down the street.  Lagging behind my neighbors so I wouldn't have to chat if I didn't want to.  Back home, I poured my coffee took a deep breath and sat down.  Quiet.  Release.  Fuggedaboutit.  The bus stop?  Forgotten.  The tudes this morning?  Who cares.

Now I'm recharged.  Ready to go. 

I'm no fool, this will all disappear the moment Elaine steps off the bus.  And then again when Warren gets off the bus this afternoon.  And the evening, it will surely suck as it is busy with things they don't necessarily want to do.

But for five minutes, I am at peace.  Serenity now.  Serenity now.

So I am thankful to have those five minutes.

Do me a favor would you?

Thank a veteran today.  In person, in your thoughts - whatever.  Thank the men and women who have served our country in the military.  Because I couldn't do it, could you?

Thank you Edward Gittemeier.

Thank you Jimmy Gittemeier.

Thank you R. Warren Gribben

and thank you to the millions of others who have served.

And if you can't thank a veteran, thank someone still serving today!

Thank you Garrett Shawn Lynchard.

Thank you Charles Porter.

Thank you Walt Taylor.

Add a veteran in the comments, or someone serving today.  We need to remember these heroes and thank them for our freedom.

The baby girl loses a tooth!

On the last day of swine flu, Elaine lost her first tooth.

It made her cry - because she's a nerd like that.  Once she calmed down I explained the tooth fairy would come.

And then at bedtime she decided she didn't want any part of a fairy in her room.  We had to put the tooth in the hallway.  Which quite honestly, the tooth fairy found to be much easier!

From the mouths of babes...

We'd had enough of the pig flu on Friday.  So we decided to go outside.  No worries, I kept her in our backyard where she could not share her cooties.

I raked some leaves while the kids played around.  Elaine yelled to me from the corner of the yard, "mom!  Mom!  I found beauty!"  I turned to her and asked, "beauty?"  "Yes!  I'll bring it over to you.  You should take a picture of it.  It's beauty!"

She walked over to me holding a leaf.  I obliged and took the picture.  I saw beauty too.

 

PS- Happy Anniversary to my Mike today!  13 years!