Category - Family Life

Well, Philip is home from Hawaii. He’s been at a conference all week. Not just any conference, his conference. He decided to have a conference, he told the people to be there, he decided the location. So of course it was in Hawaii. Remember how Mike Brady was clever enough to be the architect of a building going up in Hawaii, even though the Bradys lived in Southern California? Well, apparently, Philip is pretty clever, too. However, unlike Mike Brady, Philip was not able to get his company to pay for his family and housekeeper to go along, too. So we stayed behind.

Our week was filled with naughtiness and attitude problems. The children’s behavior was slightly better. With wild thunderstorms that threatened to bring down the house, clogged toilets and neighbors knocking on the door at 9 in the evening, I was glad to see this week come to an end.

So the morning of Philip’s homecoming arrived. My oldest was up at the crack of dawn of course. I heard him in the bathroom at 6:15 and I thought for sure my day was off to a bad start. After closing my bedroom door I managed to get back to sleep for another 2 hours. Aha, morning salvaged, or so I thought. In honor of the occassion, I dressed Bip in a Hawaiian shirt. I set him on the bed so I could use the bathroom. I gave him very strict instructions: “Wait here. I’ll be right back. Don’t cry. I’ll be right back. Don’t fall off the bed. I’ll be right back.” I backed slowly into the bathroom. “See, I’m just going to the bathroom, every thing is good.” He smiled at me sweetly, as if to say, “Of course, dear mother, take your time. I’ll be right here.” I turned around, took the additional two steps into the bathroom, turned back to face him and yelled, “Bip!!” Because my angelic son had wiggled himself to the edge of the bed and was reaching for the clock radio, probably to amuse himself by chewing on the cord. He couldn’t reach with one hand so he was trying with the other, causing himself to roll off the bed.

Teleportation not being one of my superpowers, my calling his name had no effect and he proceeded to tumble off the bed.

Just call me Britney Spears.

After he stopped crying, I surveyed the damage. A big scratch on his forehead and a bruise and a bump on his cheek. Wonderful. This bruise has now developed into quite the shiner. The mercy in this is that my mother-in-law is not planning a visit. I don’t think I could handle a dissertation on my parenting skills.

So, baby dressed, injured and comforted, I head down to feed the older children. I manage to hold an ice cube wrapped in a washcloth to Bip’s bump until he became more interested in flinging himself off the couch.

I put him on the floor to play and Boo and Pumpkin Girl join him. Before I go to take my shower, I decide to read my email and favorite blogs. 9:30 comes around I start to head upstairs. Then I smell it – baby poop. It’s not a bad smell since he is still mostly breastfed, but it is stronger than usual.

No problem, right? Just change the baby, then take a shower. Except he hasn’t just pooped. As I said, Bip is still mostly breastfed, so his has nice soft, runny poop. Too much information? It gets worse. His poop has bubbled out of the top of his diaper, up on to the back of his Hawaiian shirt, down on to his shorts and on to the carpet. Where, because he doesn’t crawl, he has scooted over it, leaving short tracks across the carpet. Fortunately he didn’t get very far.

I haul him upstairs and peel off all of his clothes. There’s no helping it, he needs a bath. I call down to Boo to come upstairs. I tell him to take off his clothes, he and Bip are having a bath. If I’m going to bathe one boy, I might as well bathe the other at the same time.

Bath time goes without incident. My two boys are now sweet smelling and clean. Bip’s clothes and the changing pad cover go right into the wash and I spray carpet cleaner on the spots. It’s now 10:15. Bip goes into the super saucer where he can’t get at the foaming carpet cleaner doing it’s thing on the stain and I head up for my shower. But not before giving Boo strict instructions: “If the phone rings, please answer it. If it’s Daddy, tell him we’ll see him soon. If it’s anyone else, tell them I’ll call them back. Do NOT come upstairs to bring me the phone.”

I’m in and out of the shower in record time. I even got my hair dried. At 10:45 I take Bip up for his nap, Boo gets the same instructions about the phone. I return at 11:00 and Boo tells me that Daddy has called, he’ll be home in 30 minutes. We begin cleaning up the living room. Pumpkin starts crying about her not having a bath, I’m trying to explain to her that it’s ok, and Boo interrupts me for no good reason. I charge him 25 cents every time he interrupts me, so I send him upstairs to get money. He comes downstairs and says, “Daddy’s already home.” It was a fitting end to a difficult week.

Philip brought home all sorts of souvenirs, including tikis, chocolate covered macademia nuts, a pearl necklace and earrings for me, and coconut syrup. I’m hoping he bought the tikis at a souvenir shop and that he didn’t just find them lying around some construction site. Just in case, I have no plans to thread a leather cord around one, wear it around my neck and go surfing. He also had a Magnum, PI moment and bought himself 3 Hawaiian shirts. Philip is many things, but he is not a large, 6 foot tall, mustached white man. He is a rather compact Chinese man. Strong, but not big. When I heard he’d bought these shirts, I was worried he’d look less like Magnum and more like Lieutenant Tanaka or Icepick (go rent the Magnum DVDs and see what I mean). I was very, very happy to see that when he walked in the door wearing cargo shorts and one of these shirts, he actually looked quite good! I even let him wear the shirt to church.

In the end, I ate way, way too many chocolate covered macademia nuts and Bip was wide awake by 5 am (a connection?). He and Philip enjoyed some good bonding time watching TV until 7. All is back to normal.

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I’ve mentioned that Philip is gone for the week. Did I mention how much work it is to manage a house, care for three children, do any kind of school and have time to play on the computer? The work never seems to stop! The things that are normally Philip’s jobs have fallen to me this week, of course, and they are just enough to cause things to stack up. He empties the dishwasher every morning and this week I have to do it myself. Just this one extra chore in the morning causes the rest of the chores to become delayed. Plus, I decided to start taking the children to the park in the morning to avoid the heat, so when it’s all said and done, it’s 1 o’clock, we’re finally done with school and are just getting started with the chores, including emptying the dishwasher and reloading it with the breakfast and lunch dishes.

Then Boo starts nagging me to read more from the Boxcar Children book we’re into, but it’s time to get the baby from his nap. Finally, we sit down to read which doesn’t last long because Bip has gotten into something. For a baby who STILL doesn’t crawl, he sure manages to get into a lot of trouble. Then it’s quiet time for the older ones and a small break for me until I have to start dinner. Sadly, my dc don’t think that cereal for dinner is very fun. Then it’s Bip’s theoretical 2nd nap – which he wouldn’t take yesterday – then dinner, then Bip is up again, then dinner clean up and just when it’s winding down, someone asks for dessert. So I get dessert, then put everyone to bed. Back downstairs to find that no one (that would be me) has cleaned up the dessert dishes or started the dishwasher. Sigh.

And yesterday, add in Bip screaming in the living room while the rest of us ate dinner in stony silence. He wouldn’t nap, then became overtired but it was way, way too early to let him go to bed unless I was willing to get up with him at 5 am. It was awful. I finally let him go to bed where he slept for 12 1/2 hours. Sadly, not without waking to nurse, but at least he slept.

Then today, more of the same except we had to go to the PX to get poster board for a project that Boo wants to do and batteries for Pumpkin Girl’s new crayon sharpener.

Don’t let me forget about the swimming lesson saga! We have been calling every day for weeks, literally weeks! to ask if the swimming lesson schedule has been set. Boo is finally brave enough to take lessons and since he’s 7, he really does need to know how to swim. Well, this week has been so hectic that I’ve forgotten to call. I finally called today and woohoo! the schedule is ready. I load the children into the car and drive to the pool to sign them up. You see it coming don’t you? The first session is already filled up. Typical. We can’t make the 2nd session because while we were waiting, VBS sign-ups came around and of course, it conflicts with the swimming schedule. So we sign up for the 3rd session. The guy was so clueless! I wanted to know if I could sign up the children for the next 2 sessions after that, so they could continue in the beginner class if necessary or move on to the next level. He said I could only sign up for one session at a time, but he had no idea what would happen if I wanted the children to take more lessons. Argh. Ok, deep breaths. These are free classes and at the very least, they will be taking 10 one hour lessons. That should give them a good start in the basics. Maybe, just maybe, Philip and I can give them additional instructions during the rest of the summer.

Still, I was pretty irritated on the way home. Then as I was adding the swimming schedule to our calendar, I realized that between swimming, VBS and a visit from my parents, I only have 5 teachable weeks left this summer! Yoikes! I have 6 weeks of material left. Clearly, this whole swimming mess is God’s way of helping me finish up the school year all neat and tidy the way I want to before we start 2nd grade/K. Nicholas unwillingly took a nap this afternoon so I sat down with the calendar to map out the remaining weeks of school. I’ll need to double up on some science here and there, but it’ll all work out. I can only imagine what I would have needed to do if I’d managed to sign the children up for all four of the 2-week swimming sessions.

Did I mention it’s really hot and humid and I really don’t do summer? My arms break out in this weird itchy rash if I’m outside too long. Clearly, I belong inside in the air conditioning.

And I won’t even get started on the attitudes of the children. You’d think a 5 yo was capable of putting cereal back in the cupboard without muttering under her breath about how many chores she already has and how mom just keeps piling them on. Then again, you’d think a 36 yo would be able to get through one husband-less week without venting on the internet for all the world to see about how many chores she has.

I wonder where Pumpkin gets it from.

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Happy Father’s Day to my great husband, who is on his way to a conference in Hawaii.  Here he is with 3 of our children.

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I am from school desks, Ford and Pine Sol.

I am from the house on the top of the hill, the one with the grass that won’t grow.

I am from the Pacific Ocean, creating fog in the morning, salt spray in your face, seaweed in your toes, tar on your feet.

I am from church on Saturday and long, straight hair,
from Esther, Margaret and Annie.

I am from long eyelashes, chubby toes, and five feet tall.

I am from uncompleted projects, guilt trips, and putting on a good face.

From "wear real shoes" and "laugh like a girl."

I am from Catholic school uniforms, white knee socks, blue cardigans.

I’m from San Pedro, tamales and beans.

From Grandma rode with Pancho Villa, Grandpa pressed into the Russian Army, the Uncle lost in the Korean War.

I am from scrapbooks in progess, old photos in a trunk, the best pictures in frames on display.

Where are you from?

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On Saturday we took Bip to the local Sears Portrait Studio for pictures of him in his baptismal gown.  We left in plenty of time to arrive for our 1:30 appointment at the mall which is 20 to 30 minutes away.  The sky was threatening to rain so we parked in the covered parking which is on the other side of the mall as the Sears.  We had to make a potty stop on the way, plus little legs just don’t walk very fast.  We got to the portrait studio at 1:40.  The woman said "your appointment was for 1:30 and it’s now 1:40.  You’ll have to be considered a walk-in."

Me:  Ok, what does that mean?

Woman:  You have to wait until 2:00 and see if the 2:00 appointment doesn’t show.  If they don’t, we can take you.

Me:  Oh.  Well, is there anyone back there now?

Woman:  No

Me:  Well, can’t you just take me now?  I only have the one child, one background, no props.

Woman:  No, that’s the company policy.

Me:  So even though no one is back there right now, I still have to wait?

Woman: Yes, that’s the company policy.

?????

Then the 2:00 appointment arrived, and even though they were not going to take her back until 2:00, I still had to wait.

Me:  So what you’re telling me is that I now have to wait here all afternoon, waiting for someone not to arrive for their appointment?

Woman:  Well ma’am, our company policy…

Me: Right, I heard you.  But you are saying that in order to get pictures today, I have to sit here all afternoon.

Woman:  Our company policy is that…

Well, I finally got her to admit that yes, rather than going right away to take this one picture, I would now have to sit and wait for someone not to show up.  I don’t think so.  We walked out into the mall, and what should we see directly below us on the first floor:  The Picture People!

We went down there and they were happy to take our money!  From the time they took us back, changing Bip into his gown, taking 3 different poses, changing his clothes back and walking out the door:  15 minutes!  The photographers were wonderful, props and backgrounds were in good shape and the pictures turned out beautifully!  An added bonus was that I donot have to make a return trip to the mall in a week or so to pick up the pictures because they were ready in an hour.

Now, I totally understand that we were late.  That was our fault.  I would have understood if the Sears people had taken a walk-in in our place when we weren’t there in time.  I also understand that the company needs to have a policy in place to deal with apparent no-shows.  What really made me angry was the inability of their employees to assess the situation, realize that they could accomodate the customer and still stay on schedule.  What happened to good customer service where the customer is always right?  They would rather take no one’s picture rather than bend the rules and take the one quick portrait I wanted.  Well, not only did they lose my money that day, but I have no intentions of ever returning to that particular portrait studio (Landmark Mall in Alexandria, VA) and possible even any other Sears Studio.

And about this "company policy."  In the 7 years I have been taking my children to have portraits done, I have used Sears almost exclusively.  At no time have I ever been informed of this policy.  Not back when I would call the individual studio to make appointments and not the last two times when I called their central appointment number.

I will be writing a letter of complaint to both this particular Sears Portrait Studio and their corporate office.

It all turned out in the end.  Like I said, the pictures are beautiful and I don’t have to make another trip to pick them up.  We got a lot of things done while waiting for the pictures, including getting me an eye exam and a new prescription for reading glasses.  Boo got to by the Larry Boy car he’s been thinking of for months, plus we all indulged in Auntie Annie’s pretzels for snacks.  So 2 thumbs down plus a giant raspberry for Sears, but yay for the Picture People.

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What did we ever do without the internet?

I didn’t even get a computer until after I was married.  I had some friends in high school who had computers and they came to school with their reports printed out on continuous feed paper with those strips of holey paper on the edge.  They all had the same funny computer font.  I just handed in pages and pages of ruled paper carefully handwritten.

I remember when we first got internet access, well over 10 years ago.  We started with AOL which very happily told us "You’ve Got Mail!" every time we signed on.  Like most email newbies, we forwarded each and every joke and warning we received to our entire address book.  We learned to value of BCC, thus protecting our friends’ email addresses from being seen by the entire world as the mail continued to be forwarded.  Not to mention those well intentioned people who don’t understand that "Reply All" will send their reply to every one.  One of my friends once sent two or three emails out with recent pictures of their family.  Some poor soul on their list kept hitting "Reply All" and letting us all in on some rather interesting comments about Aunt Martha.  "K – loved the pictures, the girls are getting so big!  What’s wrong with Aunt Martha?  She’s been ‘off’ the last few weeks."  I finally replied to this person, letting her know that she was sending email to everyone on K’s list.  I never heard from her again.  I hope Aunt Martha wasn’t getting those emails, too.

One of the first internet searches I did was after seeing "Les Miserables."  I asked dh, History Buff and Keeper of Useless Knowledge, if the events were true.  He said, no, the French Revolution did not start like that.  I didn’t believe him, it seemed like a true story.  So I went home and did an internet search.  Turns out, he was right, the French Revolution did not start as depicted in Les Miz.  But the events in Les Miz are not about the French Revolution, and Victor Hugo was indeed writing about a true, but rather minor event in French history.  Seems the French liked a good riot even then. 

So just what did we do before Al Gore’s Internet?  What if I needed to find out how to keep algae from growing in my fountain?  Now, with the help of Google, 10 minutes and a couple of clicks later, algae prevention and a new submersible pump are on their way to cure my fountain quandries.  It’s a beautiful thing.

And how in the world would I have ever started homeschooling?  Library books can be helpful, but only if you have a good library.  How would I have found quite so many educational philosophies and all those curriculum companies?

I never go out shopping any more.  Loading 3 children into the car, having 2 of them driving me to distraction with their talking, negotiating DC Beltway traffic, trying to get home before nap time – forget it!  Click, click, click from the comfort of my own home, a comforting cup of chai in my other hand, baby happily asleep upstairs – and anything I could ever want or need is available to me.  Beautiful yarns for knitting, rubber stamps and supplies, computer programs, personalized return address labels, clothes, even food – they all have arrived at my home in the last few months.  Even better – homeschooling materials!  They are on a Fed Ex truck even as I type, out for delivery today. 

Granted, maybe my house would be a bit neater without the internet.  But then again, maybe not.

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This was sent to me in an email.  Enjoy!

If you give a mom a muffin, she’ll want a cup of coffee to go with it.

She’ll pour herself some. Her three-year-old will spill the coffee. She’ll
wipe it up.

Wiping the floor, she will find dirty socks. She’ll remember she has to do
laundry.

When she puts the laundry in the washer, she’ll trip over boots and bump
into the freezer.

Bumping into the freezer will remind her she has to plan supper. She will
get out a pound of hamburger. She’ll look for her cookbook. (101 Things To
Make With A Pound Of Hamburger.) The cookbook is sitting under a pile of
mail. She will see the phone bill, which is due tomorrow. She will look
for her checkbook.

The checkbook is in her purse that is being dumped out by her
two-year-old.

She’ll smell something funny. She’ll change the two-year-old.

While she is changing the two-year-old the phone will ring. Her
five-year-old will answer and hang up. She’ll remember that she wants to
phone a friend to come for coffee.

Thinking of coffee will remind her that she was going to have a cup. She
will pour herself some.

And chances are, if she has a cup of coffee, her kids will have eaten the
muffin that went with it.

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It’s been one of those days when it’s just great to be a kid.  When we returned from the CCD year-end hot dog party, Boo and Pumpkin Girl came in the front door and went right out the back. That was 6 hours ago.  Because of the way our street bends at a right angle and because all the houses on our side of the street have their backyards open on to a big grassy area, the children in those houses have the run of the place.  Most of us don’t have fences, but the houses themselves and an adjoining baseball field provide the boundaries for playing.  The children are all fairly close in age and a good portion of them are homeschooled.  The whole group of them have been running all over the field, up in our yard, in the tree over yonder and back again.  My children have come in for the occassional drink of water and potty break and I have seen them with a couple of friends taking a break in the shade of our canopy.

I have met several of the neighborhood moms and like me, they are busy with the demands of managing a home, often with a baby or toddler to look after.  Even though we can’t always be right outside with the older children, we all try to keep an ear open for any misconduct, hurt feelings or unfairness. I would say that for the most part, the children get along wonderfully.  Because of our large climbing-sliding thing and our playhouse, the neighborhood children spend a good portion of their time in our yard.  I’ve listened to arguments start and get settled and I think that most of the bickering I’ve heard was between sibling groups, my own two included.  Still, a gentle reminder to the offending party usually takes care of it, though sometimes Pumpkin Girl gets herself too overworked and I bring her in for a rest.

My children have been briefed on a few key rules:

1.       Don’t go into anyone’s house, even if invited.
2.       Don’t eat anything that is given to you by a friend without checking with me.
3.       Stand still with your hand over your heart when the National Anthem plays at 5 pm, then come inside.
4.       Stay together
5.       If you can’t see our backdoor, you’ve gone too far.

So far it’s been working well.

One of the perks of living on a military base is the safety and overall friendliness of the neighbors.  I love to watch the children playing, running around without a care.  One of the funniest things I’ve seen since living here was a line of knights, dressed for battle, marching single file across our backyard, down to the big tree across the field where another set of young knights (both boys and girls) were waiting.  I think every child in the neighborhood was out that day, too.

It might not be Mayberry, but it’s pretty darn close.

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Event #2, Philip’s promotion, is over.  For those of you keeping track, he is now a lieutenant colonel.  We had a nice, quick ceremony followed by a reception.  Philip gave me a huge bouquet of flowers.

Among the flowers are 2 blue carnations for our two boys, a pink rose for Pumpkin Girl and a lily for Rebecca.  That meant so much to me!  He really can be so sweet!

Now usually, cakes at promotion parties are decorated with the soldier’s new rank, but we thought we’d have a little more fun than that.  Here’s what we did:

And look what was installed on our carport today:

Seeing it in print makes it really start to sink in!

Most of our guests have gone home now and my parents will be leaving shortly, too.  Then it’s back to life as usual.  Well, sort of.  Philip’s off to a conference for the week  But the kids and I will be back to school.

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