life with WE

A decade of dub is almost here!

This week my dub will turn 10.  Double digits.  As in, that's it, he's done being a baby.  As in, I've been at this parenting gig for a decade. 

ACK!

A decade?  You'd think I'd have this mastered by now, wouldn't you?  Ha!

Ten.  TEN.  1. 0.  Never again will he be a single digit.  Double digits as of Thursday.  He's over the moon excited about being ten.  I'm not sure why, but he is thrilled.  Do you think at ten, he won't need to be reminded to put on deoderant or to brush his teeth?  Yeah, I doubt it as well.

We're very busy over here working on making a pinata and some of us (me) are getting prepped mentally for the appearance of the reptile guy.  Yeah, the reptile guy will be at my house.  With creatures.  in. ma. house.

Tips so far on making a pinata?  Take your zoloft and do not attempt without your husband home.  Make everyone help and then wish everyone would just get out of your way and then beg your husband to help you with the second coat.  Keep a lot of washcloths on hand so you can wipe up the flour/water paste mixture off of the walls, the floor and the table.  We've got one more coat to go, then the painting and stuffing of the pinata.

And present buying.  And cake pop making. 

More on all of this to come.

I for sure needed Calgon or red wine last night. Maybe both. But I had neither.

Ah the evenings here at Casa de WE.  Sometimes, it's smooth sailing.  Sometimes, it's chaotic.  Sometimes it's all sorts of loud up in here.  Last night was not any of those things. 

The weather was lovely, so the kids played outside after school.  Totally fine.  Great even!  I can't always expect them to walk in the door and get straight to homework, right?  Right.  So they come in around dinner time.  While I make dinner, I suggest/order they get started on their homework, in the kitchen, without the TV.  Argue argue resist - mom wins, the kids are at the counter working.  Of course, there are a few verbal assaults going on, which I promptly stopped in their tracks. 

I'm feeling confident, assembling my well rounded meal to noursih my children when BAM.  Elaine is in tears.  I look over, she's writing words in cursive, three times each.  "I don't think I'm meant to do cursive writing!  I'm bad at it!  Everything I do has to be rewritten!  I'm not good at anything!"  Um hello?  All this over cursive writing?  At the age of seven? FOR REALS.  I start a thing about how she can too write, and she's just learning, and she needs to be patient etc etc.  Then I tell her how she is a smart girl and that it's okay not to be perfect and that with practice it will get easier and easier.  I reference a recent good math test.  "But I only got that score once and someone else is always better than me and I'm just not good at any school stuff and I'm not smart!" 

And so began a discussion about being your own biggest fan.  Your own supporter.  The importance of believing in yourself and trying instead of giving up.  To which Elaine told me that she wants to believe in herself, but "that voice, my self-conscious, tells me I'm not smart and I'm not good at anything."  My response?  "Then it's your job to tell that voice to shut it up."  I told her that no matter what she does or is we are people who will always love her.  We've always got her back, but she also has to have her own.  She needs to be proud of herself. 

We had dinner and then read Unstoppable Me together.  I hope she listened.

I know this has been an Elaine week, but seriously, what am I to do about this girl's self-esteem?  She used to be so full of it and now... fading.  Fast.

Meanwhile, I helped W study for his social studies test.  He absolutely half-a&&ed the study guide, which I called him on.  We gathered more accurate information, made a new study guide, and reviewed.  We've had so many discussions about putting forth your best effort.  He constantly assures me that he does.  And yet, I'm not seeing it.  I honestly could care less what grades he gets as long as he tries.  I think he's ticked off that school isn't as easy as it used to be when he got straight As and didn't have to work as hard.  Tough lesson to learn, but learning it now is better than later.

Then it was time for ice cream and showers and both of them needing me.  9:30 could not come fast enough!

All that worry for nothing.

So yesterday was a complete non-event.  I did wake Elaine up to feed her a snack in the middle of the night so she wouldn't be hungry in the morning before her appointment.  (No food or drink for six hours prior to the procedure.)  I tried waking her at three, she wouldn't budge.  I got loud.  "Elaine, do you want a snack or to keep sleeping?"  "Sleepsnack," she responded before snoring loudly and rolling over.  At four, I had better luck.  Then she came to our bed and kept us awake until 6:30 when we got up for the day.  She was nervous, I was nervous.  The oral surgeon's office?  So not nervous.  It took them ten minutes to knock her out and pull four teeth.  She was loopy and goofy for about two hours after and then annoyed that I would not let her go play.  She didn't get sick from the anesthesia, she enjoyed a lot of soft things to eat, we watched movies, put together a puzzle had visitors - and today found a crisp twenty next to her note and teeth she'd left the tooth fairy.

Of course, her note to the tooth fairy was the best part.  Elaine is an excellent note writer!

Seriously, Elaine should be all of our pen pals.  For reals.

Please note the suppley bag purse - that's for collecting teeth and giving out money.  I mean the tooth fairy needs a multi-tasking bag! 

I particularly love her need to label her hair as dirty blond at all times.  This drawing is of her, in case the tooth fairy doesn't know what she looks like.  "Because I don't let her come in my room, she probably never sees me!"

La la la, look at the pictures and pay no mind to the child having teeth pulled today...

Today, my baby girl is getting four teeth pulled at the oral surgeon.  As I type this I am a bit nervous, although I know it will all be fine.  So meanwhile, I'm going to distract you with some photos.

Friday and Saturday, E and I were in Kansas City.  We got to see some good friends, and then see two of my nieces, my sister in law and her hubs.  My niece Amanda was in a competitive cheer competition.  Um people, I had a small inkling of what to expect, but I had NO IDEA.  I do have to say that it was way fun to watch, although I was a bit disappointed that Jeff - the dad - wasn't dressed like the other crazy dads I saw for other squads.  I mean he wasn't wearing fur boots, or a mask or anything.  Quite a let down.  I hope he steps it up before her next competition.  Ooh and I never once saw any spirit fingers.  Bummer.

It takes both my sister in law and my eldest niece to get that swoop of eye makeup just right. 

 

Elaine got in on the act.  I mean, you've gotta support the team right?  I called her E Gaga the rest of the day.

Fans in the stands - Elaine and Megan, or as E says, "Mag-in!"  Please also note Elaine's new American Girl doll, which she saved all her dollars for over the past two years.  I'm very proud of her for doing that.  It's a look like me doll (ish), and she named her Elaine Junior.

Amanda cheers for Infiniti out of Bentonville, Arkansas.  Go Blaze and Go Legacy!  (I think I got her team names right.)

I think the boys enjoyed themselves during our brief absence.  And once again, Warren did well at basketball while I wasn't there.  I'm starting to think that perhaps I'm some sort of a jinx! 

Also I apologize profusely to my sister Jessie for the lack of pictures of Elaine hanging out with my friend's girls Friday night.  It slipped my mind to get the camera out.  They had a great time though, so mental picture? 

Clearly, Warren is NOT to blame.

Warren has this thing.  A quirk, if you will.  An annoying, this better change at some point in his life or it's going to be a LONG road head of us, quirk.  When things don't go his way, they are never his fault.

Never.

I know, right?  Hard to imagine.  But in his world, that's how it is.  And he will blame anyone and anything for any slight misfortune.

Example?  Well, he got a lower grade on something becuase there are less questions on the tests.  Therefore, it is the teacher/test/school's fault.  Not his.  Definitely not his.  And there was never any time for him to unload his overnight bag from last Saturday-Sunday.  Not one spare moment from Sunday to Wednesday night when I discovered said bag shoved under something in his closet.   I mean seriously, if the kid drops something and you happen to be in the vicinity, it's definitely your fault.

This unwillingness of his to accept responsibility for the things directly related to him is exhausting.  I refuse to give up on driving this point home.  In doing so I'm seriously trying to not scream and yell.  But oh do his feelings get hurt.  Instead of hearing what I have to say about being reponsible, he's upset that I'm angry with him. 

So that's been going real well...

On Monday, Elaine will be getting four baby teeth pulled by the oral surgeon.  The doctor explained to her what was going to happen and about the anesthesia.  She won't be able to eat for six hours before the surgery.  In Elaine terms, that means she won't be able to eat breakfast for days.  Huh.  And nausea?  What is nausea?  How will I make sure she doesn't get nausea?  But the most important concern of all is how much ice cream will she get to eat and how nice will the tooth fairy be to a girl who has four teeth pulled?

All this and more to be answered on Tuesday...

Another dressing battle, but this one with my son.

Twice a year my kids' school does a "dress for respect" day.  The first one of this school year was Veteran's Day.  It just so happened that Mike and I were in San Diego that day, so my stepmom Bonnie got the unfortunate task of telling Warren he had to back off the running pants for one day.  As you can imagine, it did not go over well.  But she held her ground and W went to school looking respectable!  My mom was here when they got back from school and she said the first thing he did was go directly upstairs and change.  Hilarious. 

Today was the second dress for respect day.  Elaine just can't decide what to wear, everything seems so great and do we have extra time to do her hair?  Warren.  Oh Warren.  I went into his room to wake him up, gave him a few minutes and then reminded him of the day.  "Ugh."  Of course.  I found a pair of his "nice" sweats type pants.  They are still lightweight, have an elastic waist and unlike most of his other pants, are completely in tact.  I then chose a short sleeved (because he also refuses to wear long sleeves) red polo type shirt that has been worn before and is tagless.  I said, "here you go, and you don't have to tuck it in."  Surprise, he still burst into tears.  "Really, dude?"  I walked out the room before I gave in to his ridiculous tears.  I passed it off to Mike who had my back and basically told him to suck it up. 

Seriously.

Is it that torturous to make an almost ten year old be semi-dressed up?  Let me remind you, they are elastic waisted pants and an untucked shirt, I'm sure both of which were 100% cotton.  Get over it dude.  Get over it!

Being taught history by my seven year old.

Last week Elaine was assigned to find out five to ten facts about a famous African American.  She was given Rosa Parks.  She was thrilled with this assignment and even more pumped that she had gotten Rosa Parks.  I asked if she knew who Rosa Parks was and what she was famous for.

"Duh mom.  She was an African American lady.  And she sat on the bus after a long day at work.  Then some white people got on and there wasn't enough space for them in their section of the bus, so the bus driver told her to move.  And she didn't.  She didn't move mom, but the other people did.  But she thought that was dumb that she had to move to the back where the other African American people had to sit.  She didn't move and the police arrested her.  Can you believe people thought you had to have African Americans and white people sit in different spots on the bus?" 

She shook her head at that last part as if it was beyond her why this had been allowed to be a rule in the first place.  It was Elaine's version of the 'tsk tsk America.  What were you thinking?'

We looked up more facts about Mrs. Parks, and Elaine filled her sheet.  She refused to stop at just five facts (the minimum requirement), she needed more.  Did you know Rosa Parks lived until the age of 92, passing away in 2005?  And that in 1992 she wrote her autobiography?  (Also, I did not know she sued OutKast (and LaFace Records) for using her name without permission in their song.  We didn't write that one on Elaine's list.  Otherwise I would have had to play OutKast and um, that's not appropriate for seven year olds.)

The best part of this assignment for me was that Elaine didn't know America had been like this.  Yes, she definitely needs to be aware of our history.  But in her mind, this whole separation of black and white makes absolutely no sense.  I'm glad we've made it to that point.  I know not everyone has, but for me, it's a small sign of progress.  Elaine and Warren really don't describe people by their ethnicity.  I plan on doing everything I can to help keep it that way.

 

Roar. I'm roaring at myself.

I'm in a mode of self-destruction.  Destruction is not the best word to describe it...  I guess I'm just mainly frustrated with myself.

My mind is going a million places at once which means I can't get anything done well.  I'm doing each thing half-assed and last minute.  Which leads to me being disappointment in myself.  I'm not a half-assed last minute gal.  No way, no how.  I can't keep my schedule straight and I'm forgetting dates.  I feel like my brain is failing me at times.  Freaking frustrating.

I'm made that I got a cold.  Ridiculous, no?  But I was getting very cocky about my healthier diet and regular excercise that I assumed I was untouchable as far as cooties go. 

I'm burying my head in the sand when it comes to our finances here at House of WE.  I'm aware, I'm working on the budget, but when tough decisions have to be made, I think somewhere in the back of my head I'm hoping money will fall from the sky and everything will be okay.  And that's not like me.  I like to tackle things and be done with them.  I'm realistic and yet I'm hiding.  Now I'm mad at myself for being a coward.

I made a resolution to myself in Septmber of 2011 to be a more involved parent and wife.  To be "present".  You know what I mean?  To not sweat the small stuff.  And by doing that, my other things are gong to the wayside.  The small stuff - the laundry, the house, the groceries.  And that's all okay, and was part of my plan.  I knew this would happen.  Except for suddenly it'll make me  flip out and right this instant I can't take the piles of dirty clothes that are like a flashing failure sign over my head.

Is this all ridiculous and overly dramatic?  You betcha.  Do I know this?  Of course.  But can I stop my brain?  Not a chance.

So guess where all this lead?  To another breakdown.  Last night.

What the hell?

And you know that me crying made me angry at myself even more.  I do an excellent job of beating myself up about things.  No one needs to do it for me.  But in all honestly, I had gotten so much better about it and then bam it's all bad again.  Is it that time of the month?  Probably.  Am I still taking my Zoloft?  Regularly.  It's just a bad stretch and I need to give myself permission to be a mess for a moment.  Perhaps then I could pull myself back together.

I have a laptop now.  I'm slowly and surely moving my calendar items and contacts and whatnot over.  I'm making lists - not all in the same place, which is clearly a problem.  Will anyone die from a year or two of us tightening our belts?  Absolutely not.  Will Mike and I work as hard as we can to make it better?  Fo'sho'.  Does everyone in my house have clean clothes to wear and food to eat?  Yep.  Every dinner does not have to be fabulous.  Laundry baskets are meant to hold dirty clothes and sometimes runneth over.  Toilets get dirty as do floors, counters and everything else. 

It's okay.

It's OKAY.

Serenity now, serenity now. 

I'm seriousl fine and I will continue to be fine.  But it's therapeutic for me to write this all out and be done with it.  It's like closure or something.  Thanks for letting me do this.

I'm trying to be succinct, but I'm not sure I'm managing it quite right.

Last night before I went to bed, I spent twenty minutes composing this long post about the day I'd had.  While I was typing, I knew it was too long winded and didn't get to the point, and who cares about the minute details?  Therapeutic as it was, I knew there was no need to publish it.  As I reread it this morning, I realized I was indeed right.  I can sum up yesterday more succinctly.  I can yada yada yada over the detail parts.  Trust me, y'all would have been bored out of your gourds.  (And now, I'm southern.  Whatevs.)

Yesterday was shaping up to be a fine day.  Just rolling with the punches after getting my rear kicked in Zumba earlier that morning.  Kids came home from school and then bam.  One minor issue after another that resulted in Warren's tears and complete breakdown.  I remained calm through it all.  I tried to coax, coach and help.  As he reached the peak of frustration he told me that he feels like I never try to help him.

Ugh.

So not true, and half an hour outside of the moment, I knew it wasn't true and could carry on.  But at that moment I felt like he was stabbing a knife in my gut and twisting it around.

All of that drama was going on as I needed to leave for E's gymnastics.  We left late, she was late, but that didn't bother her.  Once she was settled into class I called Mike on my cell to vent about the last two hours of crap I'd been through.  People, I hate feeling week.  I abhor it.  And I KNOW it doesn't matter if my kids like me or not, it's my job to be their parent and lead them the right way.  I want them to be independent and responsible and a bazillion other things and I work hard trying to balance the doing it for them versus the making them do it themselves.  However at that moment, I lost it.  I whined to Mike.  And I blamed him for working out during that time.  I said, "I'm always the heavy and you're the fun one."  Which?  Not true.  Bonus points for Mike, he waited until I was calmed down and then phrased it just right, "I know you might feel like you are always the heavy, but I think we do a good job of splitting that up."  I mean did that guy pay attention in class or what?  Huzzah!

Right there in the gymnasium I finished up by crying (and for once I was wearing mascara - of course), "and if you think I'm going to be the one to tell Elaine she has to stop gymnastics, you are mistaken.  She likes it and I can't do it."  Mike just moved on past that, God love him.  He calmed me down, commended me for my calmness during said mania and told me he loved me.  I took some deep breaths and realized that the teen years are just around the corner and ohmygawd this will seem like nothing in no time.

Watching Elaine and chilling, I felt my shoulders relax and the day returned to normal.  I found my friend that works there.  She asked how I was and I told her I hated being a parent.  "Today or every day?" she asked.  Today.  Just today.  And she nodded.  And the calm remained. 

I needed that.  Validation.  From multiple sources.  We should all validate each other more often.

You, are a good person.  You're a great parent, friend, daughter, wife, son, father, mother, brother whatever.  And sometimes life stinks, but you're doing great!  If you need me to get your back, you give me a call or an email.  I've got it for you!

 

I'm back beotches!

I'm borrowing my stepmom's old laptop - I guess I have to stop referring to her as wicked now.  Bummer, becuse that's so much fun!  I'm going to get on getting a new laptop real soon.  I promise.  And then, I'll refer to her as my wicked stepmother again!  Hooray!

Meanwhile, I made this dish for dinner and it's the second time I've made it and we still love it!  So I'm sharing it with you here and I'll also post it on the recipes link.  If you like peanut sauce Asian type food, you will dig it.  There is a bit of prep work involved - none of it hard, just time consuming and a lot of dishes.  But I guarantee you, it is worth it. 

I found this recipe on skinnytaste.com. (And oh my word have I found other things I need to make!)  Anywho, I kept the recipe the same - changed maybe one step - but I had to retype it in an order I could understand.  All of us love it!  Here you go!

Asian Peanut Noodles with Chicken – Lightened Up

 

Servings: 6

Calories: 337.9, Fat 4.6 g, Carbs 51.4g, Fiber 3.7g, Protein 21.1 g

 

For the peanut sauce:

• 14.5 oz fat free chicken broth

• 5 tbsp natural peanut butter

• 1 tbsp sriracha chili sauce or thai chili sauce

• 2 tbsp honey

• 2 tbsp soy sauce

• 1 tbsp freshly grated ginger

• 2 cloves garlic, minced

 

The chicken and marinade:

• 16 oz of chicken breasts, cut into thin strips

• salt and pepper (to taste)

• 1 tbsp sriracha chili sauce or thai chili sauce

• juice of ½ a lime

• 5 cloves of garlic, crushed

• 1 tbsp freshly grated ginger

• 1 tbsp soy sauce

 

For the stir fry:

• ½ tbsp sesame oil

• 8 oz rice noodles

• ¾ cup green onions, chopped

• 1 ¼ cups shredded carrots

• 1 ¼ cups shredded broccoli slaw

 

To top:

• 1 cup mung bean sprouts

• 2 tbsp chopped peanuts

• remaining ½ of lime, sliced

• cilantro

 

Directions:

1. Combine sauce ingredients in a small saucepan over medium-low heat. Stir until well blended. Simmer over medium-low heat for about 5-10 minutes until sauce becomes smooth and well blended. Set aside.

2. Boil water for pasta, and cook according to package directions.

3. Season chicken with marinade items.

4. Heat a wok over high heat until hot. Add oil, and chicken in marinade. Heat until cooked through, 2-3 minutes.

5. Add in green onions, carrots and broccoli slaw and saute until tender crisp, 1-2 minutes.

6. Remove wok from heat. Add drained pasta and peanut sauce. Toss to combine.

7. Divide between six bowls. Serve with optional toppings and garnish with lime wedges.