Well, once again, Christmas has come and gone in the blink of an eye. So much build up it is almost impossible not to feel disappointed when this magical day melts away. Not so much magic for me this year, mostly work, although I did enjoy myself for the most part.
Christmas morning felt more rushed and harried than it has in a long time. I don't know what happened but I think I was too tired and lost my bossy mojo, and the people ripped open their gifts in about 20 minutes and then it was done. I couldn't get it together to make breakfast as I usually do, but just went back to bed around noon. The rest of the day felt disorganized and weird, cumulating with a welcomed trip to the movies this evening, and then off to work the overnight shift. Kind of scattered and chaotic, which is not how we normally roll.
I think it is the adjustment to having our holidays in our new house, the routine is off. It was all fine, but somehow I didn't have the same contented feeling I usually have after Christmas. This year I just secretly wanted it to be over. Maybe I'm just getting older and this is what my parents experienced. Bummer.
I did get a stunning new computer, and some beautiful coffee mugs, which I am very grateful for. My children were happy, albeit exhausted and a little crazy. I am just thinking that maybe next year we should opt for the Caribbean instead.
Wednesday, December 26, 2012
Saturday, December 8, 2012
Alone and Dark
Working nights never fails to convolute the already chaotic sleep schedule of a parent with young children. Actually, it's pretty bad for anyone at all who requires sleep to survive, working nights is just not good for us. I find myself getting mixed up in these crazy patterns, waking up at noon today, sitting bolt upright in bed, convinced I was late for my 7pm shift. Really fucks with you.
Today I forced myself to stay in bed, go back to sleep, however fruitless, and not emerge until the sun had set (sadly at 4pm). When I got up my house was unusually quiet. I guess Francisco had taken the kids out for some fun. This would normally be a blissful surprise for a gal who spends many days desperate for a few minutes' reprieve from the little people glued to my side.
Today though, I am kind of sad about it. I generally get about an hour's worth of time with my kids on Saturday between shifts, something that is not enough as it is. It is usually an hour spent breaking up fights, heading off whining at the pass, throwing food onto plates for the hungry mouths while simultaneously loading the dishwasher, feeding the dog, showering, and cuddling those who miss me. It's chaotic but it's what I get, and it's what I choose so that I can sleep the day away and not feel like a zombie back at work in the middle of the night. But today I miss them. The dark, empty house just isn't quite as welcoming without my posse. I'm sure I'll regret saying all of this tomorrow when I'm dreaming of an empty house, coffee-drinking, blog-writing paradise.
Today I forced myself to stay in bed, go back to sleep, however fruitless, and not emerge until the sun had set (sadly at 4pm). When I got up my house was unusually quiet. I guess Francisco had taken the kids out for some fun. This would normally be a blissful surprise for a gal who spends many days desperate for a few minutes' reprieve from the little people glued to my side.
Today though, I am kind of sad about it. I generally get about an hour's worth of time with my kids on Saturday between shifts, something that is not enough as it is. It is usually an hour spent breaking up fights, heading off whining at the pass, throwing food onto plates for the hungry mouths while simultaneously loading the dishwasher, feeding the dog, showering, and cuddling those who miss me. It's chaotic but it's what I get, and it's what I choose so that I can sleep the day away and not feel like a zombie back at work in the middle of the night. But today I miss them. The dark, empty house just isn't quite as welcoming without my posse. I'm sure I'll regret saying all of this tomorrow when I'm dreaming of an empty house, coffee-drinking, blog-writing paradise.
Friday, December 7, 2012
Sticker Shock
Yesterday I met up with a couple of my oldest friends for a trip to bargain hunters' paradise: Ikea. No matter how hard I try, I just cannot say no to a visit to the store with the unpronouncible names and the delicious Sweedish meatballs. I can (and do) spend hours mulling over the kvorts and blatskiis, tossing the cheap napkins and candles into my cart willy-nilly like a kid in a candy shop. Cheap shopping Disneyland at its best.
I was alarmed to find that when I reached the checkout and heaved all of my spoovrits and flaaskims onto the conveyer belt that my tab reached an unthinkable $167! I didn't have that much crap, how could that be?? With the pressure of loading all of the tiny goodies into the cart (Ikea has given up bags, great for the environment but I wish I'd gotten the memo), I did not have time to think about what I was buying that could be costing so much.
It wasn't until the next morning that I thought to check my receipt and figure out what the hell I'd just purchased (for myself no less, not much Christmas shopping happening at Ikea). It turns out that one of my impulse buys was a memory foam pillow (the Gosa Lilja) cost an outrageous $59.99. I become the queen of cheap when I shop at this store. Anything over $9.99 does not make it into my cart. Imagine my horror at finding out that I had made such a rookie bargain-shopper error. I thought that I had grabbed its cheap counterpart, but alas no, and back to Ikea I headed to sheepishly return such a ridiculous and unnecessary buy.
Lesson learned: make sure the Sweedish names match up to the tiny price label before throwing things in your oversized cart. Or maybe the lesson is to pay attention at the register instead of fantasizing about the meatballs that lie ahead in your future, and all the fun you might have with your lifetime supply of paper napkins.
I was alarmed to find that when I reached the checkout and heaved all of my spoovrits and flaaskims onto the conveyer belt that my tab reached an unthinkable $167! I didn't have that much crap, how could that be?? With the pressure of loading all of the tiny goodies into the cart (Ikea has given up bags, great for the environment but I wish I'd gotten the memo), I did not have time to think about what I was buying that could be costing so much.
It wasn't until the next morning that I thought to check my receipt and figure out what the hell I'd just purchased (for myself no less, not much Christmas shopping happening at Ikea). It turns out that one of my impulse buys was a memory foam pillow (the Gosa Lilja) cost an outrageous $59.99. I become the queen of cheap when I shop at this store. Anything over $9.99 does not make it into my cart. Imagine my horror at finding out that I had made such a rookie bargain-shopper error. I thought that I had grabbed its cheap counterpart, but alas no, and back to Ikea I headed to sheepishly return such a ridiculous and unnecessary buy.
Lesson learned: make sure the Sweedish names match up to the tiny price label before throwing things in your oversized cart. Or maybe the lesson is to pay attention at the register instead of fantasizing about the meatballs that lie ahead in your future, and all the fun you might have with your lifetime supply of paper napkins.
Tuesday, December 4, 2012
New Arrival
I don't think I'll ever get tired of having a baby in the house. This weekend we added a new addition to our family: our new kitty Pitten. Sofie has been asking for a kitten for months, and dutifully feeding our older cat for the past month to prove her readiness for her own four legged friend.
Our acquisition of Pitten was downright serendipitous. My cousin works at a vet office in New Jersey and just happened to get in this adorable creature the night before her mother was coming up to visit us. She quickly had her vaccinated, dewormed, and flea treated in time to ship her up north and make a little girl's dreams come true.
Sofie was over the moon. Although she will not pick Pitten up or get to close to her paws, she dutifully lies on her belly and studies her every move, feeds and waters her every day, and is proud to announce to the world that this is HER cat.
The rest of us feel pretty much the same way. It's funny how baby animals seem to bring out the best in people. Francisco has been shutting her out of our bedroom at night, groping desperately under the bed to try and pull her out so that she won't keep us up with her scratching and mewling. He can't resist smothering her with kisses as he delivers her back down to the living room. Nathan, a relatively indifferent kid when it comes to pets, can't get enough of the kitty playtime either. Nothing like a tiny little ball of fur to keep a family entertained for hours.
Our acquisition of Pitten was downright serendipitous. My cousin works at a vet office in New Jersey and just happened to get in this adorable creature the night before her mother was coming up to visit us. She quickly had her vaccinated, dewormed, and flea treated in time to ship her up north and make a little girl's dreams come true.
Sofie was over the moon. Although she will not pick Pitten up or get to close to her paws, she dutifully lies on her belly and studies her every move, feeds and waters her every day, and is proud to announce to the world that this is HER cat.
The rest of us feel pretty much the same way. It's funny how baby animals seem to bring out the best in people. Francisco has been shutting her out of our bedroom at night, groping desperately under the bed to try and pull her out so that she won't keep us up with her scratching and mewling. He can't resist smothering her with kisses as he delivers her back down to the living room. Nathan, a relatively indifferent kid when it comes to pets, can't get enough of the kitty playtime either. Nothing like a tiny little ball of fur to keep a family entertained for hours.
Friday, November 16, 2012
Eastern Puerto Rico: Two families adventure into paradise
I am sad to say that I had to return from Puerto Rico two days ago, leaving one of the best vacations I've had in a long time.We had eight glorious days in this tropical paradise, each trumping the previous with the array of new adventures. From white sand to rain forests, ferry boats to sail boats, we covered more ground (and sea) on this week-long excursion than I have in years.
Puerto Rico feels like a real place, not built for tourists or catering to others, but an island where people live, work, and enjoy life, all the while welcoming visitors to their homeland. From the moment we arrived in San Juan with my friend Liz and our four children, I knew that this was not a place that puts on a show for its tourists. No shiny strip of glittery hotels masking the underlying poverty, or crowded marketplace with people pulling you in all directions to oversell their cheap merchandise with a fake smile. All we could see from the windows of the rental car were real families going about their business, and plenty of people enjoying life.
We arrived in San Juan on a windy afternoon and headed to the San Juan Marriott Resort and Stellaris Casino. This hotel has over 500 rooms and is located right on the sandy surfers' dream, Condado beach. Our adjoining rooms opened onto spacious balconies overlooking the turquoise Atlantic dotted with happy surfers. The warm sea breeze was the perfect welcome to our week of tropical heaven.
The kids immediately wanted to dive into the two large kid-friendly swimming pools abutting the beach, and the moms took no time at all to hit up the bar. The Marriott boasts several restaurants and bars, making those delicious daiquiris always readily available. The kids took to the water slide, and later the waves while we sat back and enjoyed our new found paradise.
The Marriott was an easy jump to the city of Old San Juan. Transporting us back centuries with its architecture and cobble stones, Old San Juan is a must visit of anyone heading to Puerto Rico. We had lunch and ice cream at one of the many shops, and headed up to visit el Castillo San Felipe del Morro, one of the 16th century forts that lie on the perimeter of Old San Juan. It's a long hike up to the fort, but the windy ocean breeze made it tolerable despite the pulsing midday sun. My son Nathan (age 6) was particularly excited to get inside the fort and check it out, but when we arrived at the entrance I realized I had left my wallet in the car and did not have the mere $3 entrance fee (kids are free). Unable to convince myself to walk all the way to the car and back, we settled on checking out the outside of the fort, and flying kites on the huge lawn that abuts the property. After some successful kite flying and more ice cream, the kids cooled off in a nearby fountain, shedding their clothes and running through the geysers without a hint of hesitation.
Staying in San Juan our first night of arrival made our trip that much easier. We didn't have to worry about more traveling after our arrival and were able to immediately jump into our vacation. Getting from the airport to the Marriott was a snap, with the help of a GPS from home. If you do not own one of these handy devices it would be in your best interest to pick one up before a trip to Puerto Rico (or rent one from the rental car company). While driving on the island is not necessarily difficult, roads are not always clearly marked or easy to find. We found ourselves driving the wrong way down a one way street more than once, so check to make sure there are other cars pointing in your direction, yikes!
After breakfast at the Marriott (a simple pleasure that can be included in the cost of your room if you request) and a walk on the beach Wednesday morning we headed east on the small coastal road 187. Not far from San Juan is a beach community known as Los Pinones, famous for the roadside restaurants and shacks preparing typical Puerto Rican cuisine. We had lunch at Mi Casita, feasting on rice, beans, plantains, and local seafood, each of us scarfing down our meals with the hunger that only comes from being at the beach. Then on to our rental house in Luquillo, a small town located between San Juan and Fajardo.
Luquillo turned out to be the perfect choice for our vacation. Our rental house sat close to the beach, in a gated community of homes called Solimar, each modest home with it's own little patio. We spent most nights on the patio listening to the waves and the sound of the coquis chirping (tiny frogs native to the island).
Our days were then spent divided by trips to the local Balneario (public beach), a beautiful calm beach one minute down the road, eating pinchos (grilled meat shishkabobs) and drinking rum filled coconuts, and exploring the island in all sorts of other adventures.
On Friday we journeyed to El Yunque, the only rain forest found in the US National Forest System. With vines curling around the trees and lush hibiscus dipping down to meet the earth El Yunque makes you feel as though you have stepped straight into the amazon. On each stop up the winding road the forest becomes more dense and the view from each peak more astounding. We hiked down to La Mina waterfall, about 3/4 of a mile each way, and enjoyed a dip in the cold mountain river under the falls. Nathan was the first one to clamber over the slippery rocks and make his way into the water, quite the pack leader on this trip! Sofie (age 3) on the other hand would have nothing to do with the water fall and spent the duration of our time sitting on the stone steps looking anxious and forlorn. We easily could have spent another day in El Yunque, but for the loud whining of the children as we hiked back up to our car, we did not return, and headed to the beach instead. School aged children would love this marvelous natural phenomenon, leave the whiners at home.
The best day for all of us was our Sunday trip to the deserted island of Icacos with East Island Excursions. This company runs several different boat trips with various adventures such as snorkeling or visiting one of the bio- luminescent bays. Our trip was a daytime snorkeling trip aboard a sailing catamaran called East Wind.
We boarded the ship around 9:30am , and immediately the rum punch was flowing. Our host was Owen Wilson's doppelganger, crew member Levi. With four years of experience sailing with East Island, Levi took no time to gain the passengers' trust, it was obvious by his friendly personality and relaxed manner that he loves his job, and wants everyone to have a good time. Food and drink was included in this adventure, and I could feel my limbs becoming loose before the boat set out into crystal clear open water.
We anchored at Icacos for almost 2 hours and were able to comb the beach, snorkel, and fly off the water slide into the ocean. Ultimate kid and adult heaven. Perfect white sand, clear water for snorkeling, and few enough of us to never feel crowded. The crew was comprised of helpful strapping men who suited us up and taught us the pointers of seeing the best sights, all the while staying calm, friendly, and attentive to the 77 passengers on the boat.
Our second stop was snorkeling stop at turtle cay, a site known for sea turtles. We were not so lucky this stop, and on my one attempt to snorkel I found it difficult to make it out to see much, perhaps it was the combination of the current and the daiquiris. Liz and her son Andrew had better luck and explored the reef easily. Even without the snorkeling, lying out on the deck taking in the surroundings was far more pleasing than anything I could have imagined. My only complaint was that our five hour day was not long enough, I could have stayed a week. When we docked back in Fajardo the kids and adults agreed that our adventure with East Island Excursions was unbeatable, a perfect day for the whole family. At just $69 for adults and $49 for kids, the price is undeniably worth the experience.
Monday night we decided to hit up one of PR's biggest attractions, the bioluminescent bay. There are five bio bays in the world, and three of them are found in Puerto Rico. These lagoons are filled with millions of organisms called dinoflagellates that light up in the dark when disturbed. Hundreds of kayakers paddle out each night to experience this phenomenon. We decided that kayaking might be too hazardous with our kids (plus you have to be over seven to go), so we booked a spot on one of the only two electric boats in Fajardo's biobay. Our boat trip with Baby Bay Cruising Lagoon Company was scheduled to leave at 6:30, but due to some unfortunate planning on behalf of Captain Suarez, Baby Bay's leading man for the past 20 years, our boat was grounded in the sand at low tide and took over an hour to be pulled out. The benefit to this unforeseen delay was that when we entered the lagoon the 150 kayaks were leaving, and we had the place to ourselves. Upon entering the lagoon we passed through over a mile of mangroves, a dark cave-like entrance out of another world. Birds called to us, iguanas napped in the trees, bats swooped by, and our guide Jennifer pointed out the reeds that hold embryos for sea horses who will eventually hatch and swim out to sea.
In the lagoon the kids could not get over the sight of their hands lighting up the water, or the fish darting back and forth with glowing tails. Nathan reported that this was the best experience of his life, and that made it worth the money for me. A ride in the electric boat will set you back about $45 for adults, $35 for kids, and can seat 6 people total. Given the number of kayaks who smashed head first into our boat on our way out to the lagoon, I would say that unless you are a skilled kayaker it is better to book in advance and go for the boat.
Our final full day in PR was a trip to the island of Culebra. Sometimes known as the "Spanish Virgin Islands", Culebra and it's larger sister island Vieques are vacation destinations unto themselves, but can also be great for a day trip when visiting the mainland. We booked the ferry a few days in advance, and found it almost impossible to visit on the weekend, but Tuesday was no problem. The ride cost just a few dollars per person round trip, and took about 1 1/2 hours each way. We left at 9 am and were on the reputably beautiful Flamenco beach by 11, with the assistance of a tiny Puerto Rican taxi driver ($30 round trip). The ferry ride to Culebra was choppy, even in the seemingly still waters, so beware of sea sickness if you are prone to it.
Once arriving at the beach, the sand was pure white and the waters crystal blue, it was a beautiful location to end our visit to Puerto Rico. We rented snorkeling gear, and Liz headed out on her own to explore the reef that lies directly on Flamenco Beach. While admiring purple jellyfish and barracudas she was swept out a little too far and got caught up in a rip current. Thankfully a man nearby heard her cry for help and pulled my dear friend to safety, as I smiled at her from the shore, thinking her waving was in merriment at the beautiful surroundings. Dear God. Warning: when snorkeling, especially after drinking pina coladas, it is best to wear a flotation device and use the buddy system.
Despite the near drowning, we all had a great week. All in all, Puerto Rico is the perfect setting for families who want to give their children more than the average tourist-trap vacation. My kids learned more in this week than in all of our previous trips combined, and I had no qualms about taking them out of school to show them the natural beauty that Puerto Rico has to offer. If you want to experience real life adventure (with no passport requried), take your family to eastern PR, you won't be disappointed.
Puerto Rico feels like a real place, not built for tourists or catering to others, but an island where people live, work, and enjoy life, all the while welcoming visitors to their homeland. From the moment we arrived in San Juan with my friend Liz and our four children, I knew that this was not a place that puts on a show for its tourists. No shiny strip of glittery hotels masking the underlying poverty, or crowded marketplace with people pulling you in all directions to oversell their cheap merchandise with a fake smile. All we could see from the windows of the rental car were real families going about their business, and plenty of people enjoying life.
We arrived in San Juan on a windy afternoon and headed to the San Juan Marriott Resort and Stellaris Casino. This hotel has over 500 rooms and is located right on the sandy surfers' dream, Condado beach. Our adjoining rooms opened onto spacious balconies overlooking the turquoise Atlantic dotted with happy surfers. The warm sea breeze was the perfect welcome to our week of tropical heaven.
The kids immediately wanted to dive into the two large kid-friendly swimming pools abutting the beach, and the moms took no time at all to hit up the bar. The Marriott boasts several restaurants and bars, making those delicious daiquiris always readily available. The kids took to the water slide, and later the waves while we sat back and enjoyed our new found paradise.
The Marriott was an easy jump to the city of Old San Juan. Transporting us back centuries with its architecture and cobble stones, Old San Juan is a must visit of anyone heading to Puerto Rico. We had lunch and ice cream at one of the many shops, and headed up to visit el Castillo San Felipe del Morro, one of the 16th century forts that lie on the perimeter of Old San Juan. It's a long hike up to the fort, but the windy ocean breeze made it tolerable despite the pulsing midday sun. My son Nathan (age 6) was particularly excited to get inside the fort and check it out, but when we arrived at the entrance I realized I had left my wallet in the car and did not have the mere $3 entrance fee (kids are free). Unable to convince myself to walk all the way to the car and back, we settled on checking out the outside of the fort, and flying kites on the huge lawn that abuts the property. After some successful kite flying and more ice cream, the kids cooled off in a nearby fountain, shedding their clothes and running through the geysers without a hint of hesitation.
Staying in San Juan our first night of arrival made our trip that much easier. We didn't have to worry about more traveling after our arrival and were able to immediately jump into our vacation. Getting from the airport to the Marriott was a snap, with the help of a GPS from home. If you do not own one of these handy devices it would be in your best interest to pick one up before a trip to Puerto Rico (or rent one from the rental car company). While driving on the island is not necessarily difficult, roads are not always clearly marked or easy to find. We found ourselves driving the wrong way down a one way street more than once, so check to make sure there are other cars pointing in your direction, yikes!
After breakfast at the Marriott (a simple pleasure that can be included in the cost of your room if you request) and a walk on the beach Wednesday morning we headed east on the small coastal road 187. Not far from San Juan is a beach community known as Los Pinones, famous for the roadside restaurants and shacks preparing typical Puerto Rican cuisine. We had lunch at Mi Casita, feasting on rice, beans, plantains, and local seafood, each of us scarfing down our meals with the hunger that only comes from being at the beach. Then on to our rental house in Luquillo, a small town located between San Juan and Fajardo.
Luquillo turned out to be the perfect choice for our vacation. Our rental house sat close to the beach, in a gated community of homes called Solimar, each modest home with it's own little patio. We spent most nights on the patio listening to the waves and the sound of the coquis chirping (tiny frogs native to the island).
Our days were then spent divided by trips to the local Balneario (public beach), a beautiful calm beach one minute down the road, eating pinchos (grilled meat shishkabobs) and drinking rum filled coconuts, and exploring the island in all sorts of other adventures.
On Friday we journeyed to El Yunque, the only rain forest found in the US National Forest System. With vines curling around the trees and lush hibiscus dipping down to meet the earth El Yunque makes you feel as though you have stepped straight into the amazon. On each stop up the winding road the forest becomes more dense and the view from each peak more astounding. We hiked down to La Mina waterfall, about 3/4 of a mile each way, and enjoyed a dip in the cold mountain river under the falls. Nathan was the first one to clamber over the slippery rocks and make his way into the water, quite the pack leader on this trip! Sofie (age 3) on the other hand would have nothing to do with the water fall and spent the duration of our time sitting on the stone steps looking anxious and forlorn. We easily could have spent another day in El Yunque, but for the loud whining of the children as we hiked back up to our car, we did not return, and headed to the beach instead. School aged children would love this marvelous natural phenomenon, leave the whiners at home.
The best day for all of us was our Sunday trip to the deserted island of Icacos with East Island Excursions. This company runs several different boat trips with various adventures such as snorkeling or visiting one of the bio- luminescent bays. Our trip was a daytime snorkeling trip aboard a sailing catamaran called East Wind.
We boarded the ship around 9:30am , and immediately the rum punch was flowing. Our host was Owen Wilson's doppelganger, crew member Levi. With four years of experience sailing with East Island, Levi took no time to gain the passengers' trust, it was obvious by his friendly personality and relaxed manner that he loves his job, and wants everyone to have a good time. Food and drink was included in this adventure, and I could feel my limbs becoming loose before the boat set out into crystal clear open water.
We anchored at Icacos for almost 2 hours and were able to comb the beach, snorkel, and fly off the water slide into the ocean. Ultimate kid and adult heaven. Perfect white sand, clear water for snorkeling, and few enough of us to never feel crowded. The crew was comprised of helpful strapping men who suited us up and taught us the pointers of seeing the best sights, all the while staying calm, friendly, and attentive to the 77 passengers on the boat.
Our second stop was snorkeling stop at turtle cay, a site known for sea turtles. We were not so lucky this stop, and on my one attempt to snorkel I found it difficult to make it out to see much, perhaps it was the combination of the current and the daiquiris. Liz and her son Andrew had better luck and explored the reef easily. Even without the snorkeling, lying out on the deck taking in the surroundings was far more pleasing than anything I could have imagined. My only complaint was that our five hour day was not long enough, I could have stayed a week. When we docked back in Fajardo the kids and adults agreed that our adventure with East Island Excursions was unbeatable, a perfect day for the whole family. At just $69 for adults and $49 for kids, the price is undeniably worth the experience.
Monday night we decided to hit up one of PR's biggest attractions, the bioluminescent bay. There are five bio bays in the world, and three of them are found in Puerto Rico. These lagoons are filled with millions of organisms called dinoflagellates that light up in the dark when disturbed. Hundreds of kayakers paddle out each night to experience this phenomenon. We decided that kayaking might be too hazardous with our kids (plus you have to be over seven to go), so we booked a spot on one of the only two electric boats in Fajardo's biobay. Our boat trip with Baby Bay Cruising Lagoon Company was scheduled to leave at 6:30, but due to some unfortunate planning on behalf of Captain Suarez, Baby Bay's leading man for the past 20 years, our boat was grounded in the sand at low tide and took over an hour to be pulled out. The benefit to this unforeseen delay was that when we entered the lagoon the 150 kayaks were leaving, and we had the place to ourselves. Upon entering the lagoon we passed through over a mile of mangroves, a dark cave-like entrance out of another world. Birds called to us, iguanas napped in the trees, bats swooped by, and our guide Jennifer pointed out the reeds that hold embryos for sea horses who will eventually hatch and swim out to sea.
In the lagoon the kids could not get over the sight of their hands lighting up the water, or the fish darting back and forth with glowing tails. Nathan reported that this was the best experience of his life, and that made it worth the money for me. A ride in the electric boat will set you back about $45 for adults, $35 for kids, and can seat 6 people total. Given the number of kayaks who smashed head first into our boat on our way out to the lagoon, I would say that unless you are a skilled kayaker it is better to book in advance and go for the boat.
Our final full day in PR was a trip to the island of Culebra. Sometimes known as the "Spanish Virgin Islands", Culebra and it's larger sister island Vieques are vacation destinations unto themselves, but can also be great for a day trip when visiting the mainland. We booked the ferry a few days in advance, and found it almost impossible to visit on the weekend, but Tuesday was no problem. The ride cost just a few dollars per person round trip, and took about 1 1/2 hours each way. We left at 9 am and were on the reputably beautiful Flamenco beach by 11, with the assistance of a tiny Puerto Rican taxi driver ($30 round trip). The ferry ride to Culebra was choppy, even in the seemingly still waters, so beware of sea sickness if you are prone to it.
Once arriving at the beach, the sand was pure white and the waters crystal blue, it was a beautiful location to end our visit to Puerto Rico. We rented snorkeling gear, and Liz headed out on her own to explore the reef that lies directly on Flamenco Beach. While admiring purple jellyfish and barracudas she was swept out a little too far and got caught up in a rip current. Thankfully a man nearby heard her cry for help and pulled my dear friend to safety, as I smiled at her from the shore, thinking her waving was in merriment at the beautiful surroundings. Dear God. Warning: when snorkeling, especially after drinking pina coladas, it is best to wear a flotation device and use the buddy system.
Despite the near drowning, we all had a great week. All in all, Puerto Rico is the perfect setting for families who want to give their children more than the average tourist-trap vacation. My kids learned more in this week than in all of our previous trips combined, and I had no qualms about taking them out of school to show them the natural beauty that Puerto Rico has to offer. If you want to experience real life adventure (with no passport requried), take your family to eastern PR, you won't be disappointed.
Gender Balanced
Once again I am ever the negligent blogger, thinking about possible blog posts at random times of the day but never bringing them to life. Perhaps because my computer is on the fritz, or maybe because of the chaotic day to day of the working mom. Whatever, it's just not happening.
Sofie started dance class this week at a studio in Greenfield. This has to be the single most adorable thing in the entire world, right up there with kittens in a basket. So. Freaking. Cute. They had tap class and ballet/acrobatics time, and she loved every minute of it. While some of the new girls clung to their mothers' legs and refused to set foot on the dance floor, Sofie marched out with a confident smile in her new dance tights and shiny black tap shoes. She shuffled and hopped to the best of her three year old ability and when it was over she pirouetted all the way home, overtly proud of her new skills.
Mothering a girl is so unbelievably different from my boy-child experience. While Nathan drained every ounce of energy I had at this age as he sprinted through life at full speed, Sofie takes her time and adds a pirouette. Nathan was fast and furious, charging headlong into which ever rough and tumble activity (even if it was supposed to be a quiet story hour, which we tried to avoid at all costs). Sofie makes me slow down and spend time just snuggling up, content to be home with me all day.
I wouldn't trade either of these children for the world, and I appreciate their uniqueness tremendously. I have learned the art of toddler defense with Nathan, standing guard like a soccer goalie to keep him from being hit by a car or whacking another kid with a bat. I have also learned how to parent a very independent child, he marches into almost anything without fear, and he's game to try new adventures, much like me. We are partners in adventure, both of us loving to experience life to the fullest. We are reading Harry Potter now, almost done with the third book. Neither of us ever wants to put it down, we can't get enough quiet moments to devour our book together.
Sofie gives me my daily dose of sweetness. I can relate to her in ways that I have never related to anyone, except maybe my own mother. I understand how her heart and mind work and I love every minute of watching her childhood unfold, it's like reliving my own. I never thought it could be so different to raise two children, but the difference is extraordinary, and the challenge keeps me balanced. When I slow down to pay attention I am aware that I am blessed.
Sofie started dance class this week at a studio in Greenfield. This has to be the single most adorable thing in the entire world, right up there with kittens in a basket. So. Freaking. Cute. They had tap class and ballet/acrobatics time, and she loved every minute of it. While some of the new girls clung to their mothers' legs and refused to set foot on the dance floor, Sofie marched out with a confident smile in her new dance tights and shiny black tap shoes. She shuffled and hopped to the best of her three year old ability and when it was over she pirouetted all the way home, overtly proud of her new skills.
Mothering a girl is so unbelievably different from my boy-child experience. While Nathan drained every ounce of energy I had at this age as he sprinted through life at full speed, Sofie takes her time and adds a pirouette. Nathan was fast and furious, charging headlong into which ever rough and tumble activity (even if it was supposed to be a quiet story hour, which we tried to avoid at all costs). Sofie makes me slow down and spend time just snuggling up, content to be home with me all day.
I wouldn't trade either of these children for the world, and I appreciate their uniqueness tremendously. I have learned the art of toddler defense with Nathan, standing guard like a soccer goalie to keep him from being hit by a car or whacking another kid with a bat. I have also learned how to parent a very independent child, he marches into almost anything without fear, and he's game to try new adventures, much like me. We are partners in adventure, both of us loving to experience life to the fullest. We are reading Harry Potter now, almost done with the third book. Neither of us ever wants to put it down, we can't get enough quiet moments to devour our book together.
Sofie gives me my daily dose of sweetness. I can relate to her in ways that I have never related to anyone, except maybe my own mother. I understand how her heart and mind work and I love every minute of watching her childhood unfold, it's like reliving my own. I never thought it could be so different to raise two children, but the difference is extraordinary, and the challenge keeps me balanced. When I slow down to pay attention I am aware that I am blessed.
Thursday, October 4, 2012
Nurses On STRIKE!
I have been a nurse for eight years. I have held several different nursing jobs during my short career, but for the past five years have been extremely happy on the labor and delivery unit of our local community hospital. The Birthplace at Baystate Franklin Medical Center has come to feel like home, my coworkers a family. We support each other daily through our work with women and infants, and in our personal lives.
At the Birthplace we care for women in one of the most vulnerable and simultaneously empowering times of their lives. We hold their hands in the middle of the night while they breathe through yet another grueling contraction, clean up the various body fluids cast in all directions that is part of bringing life into the world, listen to the pain, tears, joy, laughter, and fear that can accompany birth.
We stand guard over them, quietly watching for warning signs, occasionally rushing back to the operating room to assist in cesarean births if all is not right. We help the youngest humans into this world, breathing for them when they are unable to do so, performing chest compressions, starting IVs when babies are sick, administering medications in specific doses to ensure the best outcome, leaving no detail unnoticed.
When the unthinkable happens, and a family experiences the loss of a child, we hold our patients, we cry with them, we mourn with them, we treat them with the dignity and respect they deserve. We go out of our way to give each patient the kind of care that we would hope to receive. My work is my calling, I absolutely LOVE what I do.
Baystate Health has decided that they no longer wish to pay the nurses of Franklin Medical overtime for those of us working longer than our scheduled shift. That means when I am asked to stay late after working a 12 hour night shift, I would not be compensated at time and one-half, the way other nurses around the state are, as I am only scheduled to work 24 hours per week. Only when nurses reach 40 hours in one week they would be paid overtime. Out of the 209 union nurses only nine nurses work 40 scheduled hours per week.
By accepting this change to our contract we would be opening the doors to allow Baystate to fills holes in the schedules with nurses working long grueling hours, instead of having to hire more nurses to fill the positions so that we are appropriately staffed. Eliminating daily overtime for nurses is not only insulting to our profession, it is downright dangerous.
Baystate also has instigated a policy that allows nurses to accrue sick time, but punishes us for using it when we or our loved ones are sick. I know far too many nurses who are coming to work sick for fear of losing their jobs.
The unfortunate thing about this very public contract negotiation is that the Baystate Corporation is the only one with enough money and resources to make their voice heard. Most nurses can't afford to spend $7000 to place an add on the back page of the recorder to make our side known. We rely on the kindness and compassion of others to help us tell our story and spread the word.
The negotiations have also raised tension in the hospital, with contention between union and non-union employees. Most people who have not attended the negotiation sessions do not know the whole story. We have been accused of being "greedy" and "not caring" about our patients, both of which could not be farther from the truth. We are not giving up our overtime because we do not want to work overtime. We want to be safe for our patients and go home when our shifts are over. This should not be too much to ask.
So the time has come. Baystate Franklin Medical Center's nurses are going on strike for 24 hours starting this Friday at 7am. We need to let the hospital and their union-busting lawyer know that we will NOT tolerate their proposals. We want dignity and respect just like the patients we are trying to serve.
At the Birthplace we care for women in one of the most vulnerable and simultaneously empowering times of their lives. We hold their hands in the middle of the night while they breathe through yet another grueling contraction, clean up the various body fluids cast in all directions that is part of bringing life into the world, listen to the pain, tears, joy, laughter, and fear that can accompany birth.
We stand guard over them, quietly watching for warning signs, occasionally rushing back to the operating room to assist in cesarean births if all is not right. We help the youngest humans into this world, breathing for them when they are unable to do so, performing chest compressions, starting IVs when babies are sick, administering medications in specific doses to ensure the best outcome, leaving no detail unnoticed.
When the unthinkable happens, and a family experiences the loss of a child, we hold our patients, we cry with them, we mourn with them, we treat them with the dignity and respect they deserve. We go out of our way to give each patient the kind of care that we would hope to receive. My work is my calling, I absolutely LOVE what I do.
Baystate Health has decided that they no longer wish to pay the nurses of Franklin Medical overtime for those of us working longer than our scheduled shift. That means when I am asked to stay late after working a 12 hour night shift, I would not be compensated at time and one-half, the way other nurses around the state are, as I am only scheduled to work 24 hours per week. Only when nurses reach 40 hours in one week they would be paid overtime. Out of the 209 union nurses only nine nurses work 40 scheduled hours per week.
By accepting this change to our contract we would be opening the doors to allow Baystate to fills holes in the schedules with nurses working long grueling hours, instead of having to hire more nurses to fill the positions so that we are appropriately staffed. Eliminating daily overtime for nurses is not only insulting to our profession, it is downright dangerous.
Baystate also has instigated a policy that allows nurses to accrue sick time, but punishes us for using it when we or our loved ones are sick. I know far too many nurses who are coming to work sick for fear of losing their jobs.
The unfortunate thing about this very public contract negotiation is that the Baystate Corporation is the only one with enough money and resources to make their voice heard. Most nurses can't afford to spend $7000 to place an add on the back page of the recorder to make our side known. We rely on the kindness and compassion of others to help us tell our story and spread the word.
The negotiations have also raised tension in the hospital, with contention between union and non-union employees. Most people who have not attended the negotiation sessions do not know the whole story. We have been accused of being "greedy" and "not caring" about our patients, both of which could not be farther from the truth. We are not giving up our overtime because we do not want to work overtime. We want to be safe for our patients and go home when our shifts are over. This should not be too much to ask.
So the time has come. Baystate Franklin Medical Center's nurses are going on strike for 24 hours starting this Friday at 7am. We need to let the hospital and their union-busting lawyer know that we will NOT tolerate their proposals. We want dignity and respect just like the patients we are trying to serve.
Thursday, August 16, 2012
Angela 12/30/79 - 8/16/08
I am thinking about my good friend Angela Silva Wollman today. She was born in Brazil and came to Miami as a teenager. We met in Miami when we were 19, working together at a restaurant, and became fast friends. We were inseparable for most of my time in Miami, spending countless weekend nights out dancing Salsa (she was an excellent dancer and loved a party more than anyone I knew). I would stay at her apartment on Miami Beach and she'd make grilled cheese for breakfast and cafe con leche. No one made breakfast taste so good.
Angela spoke 3 languages fluently, she worked 18 hour days at whatever job she had to try to push ahead. At 20 she married Michael Wollman, and gave birth to her baby girl Victoria at 22. She loved her daughter more than life itself, although she was not wild about being a stay at home mom. She always dreamed of having a career that she could be proud of, and after Victoria was in preschool she studied to become a massage therapist and went to work. I have never met a harder working woman.
Angela gave everything she had to her friends and family. When I needed something she was always there for me, always an unconditional friend. She and her sister, Renata, were an inseperable duo, a Brazilian force to be reckoned with, beyond best friends.
Angela died on August 16, 2008 at the age of 28, after a battle with B-cell lymphoma. Her family feels her loss everyday, as do I. She will be forever remembered for her infectious laugh, beautiful smile, and warm heart. Angela, it is with tears that I remember you on the day you were taken too soon. I love you, you are forever in my heart.
.JPG)
.JPG)
.JPG)
Saturday, August 11, 2012
Overdue Posting from a Negligent Blogger
No, I didn't say negligee, so don't get all excited (or horrified), I am a negligent blogger who, until about two minutes ago, forgot I even had a blog at all. My dad would be so disappointed in me.
Recently I feel like I can't keep up with the chaos of everyday life. Summer has been pretty easy for us, sleeping in, no rules to speak of, too much TV and junk food. But now the reality is setting in. I have become fat and lazy and my kids are like junkies hooked to the screen. It all sounds nice and relaxing but what we really end up with is a bunch of over-carbed, cracked-out, screaming monsters, yelling at each other all day and trashing the house as though someone was paying us to. Not good people, not good.
So Nathan realized first that he needed to get out of this hideous cycle, or maybe I realized it when the simple act of brushing his teeth became an epic battle. After cutting off all screen time priveledges he became so morose he wanted to get the hell out of dodge. So he asked me to sign him up for camp, and then he asked to stay at camp all day, and then to return the next week. Who the hell would turn down this opportunity? Seven hours of basketball and swimming to get us through the last dog days of summer. Yeah, we're going.
Sofie's summer stint did not work out quite so well. She begged me to let her go to gymnastics camp, and would not stop crying until I sought out the director and signed her up. Fortunately she let me give her a trial day before shelling out more cash for another questionable venture. So yesterday we gave it a shot. Sof lasted about 25 minutes, when halfway into the stretches she looked up at me (where I quietly watched for the mezanine, anticipating this moment) and said "Mom! I don't like this, let's go home!" Maybe we'll try again next year.
For now we eagerly await the start of school in just a couple short weeks. Time for someone else to boss them around for a while. Probably will be good for all of us.
Recently I feel like I can't keep up with the chaos of everyday life. Summer has been pretty easy for us, sleeping in, no rules to speak of, too much TV and junk food. But now the reality is setting in. I have become fat and lazy and my kids are like junkies hooked to the screen. It all sounds nice and relaxing but what we really end up with is a bunch of over-carbed, cracked-out, screaming monsters, yelling at each other all day and trashing the house as though someone was paying us to. Not good people, not good.
So Nathan realized first that he needed to get out of this hideous cycle, or maybe I realized it when the simple act of brushing his teeth became an epic battle. After cutting off all screen time priveledges he became so morose he wanted to get the hell out of dodge. So he asked me to sign him up for camp, and then he asked to stay at camp all day, and then to return the next week. Who the hell would turn down this opportunity? Seven hours of basketball and swimming to get us through the last dog days of summer. Yeah, we're going.
Sofie's summer stint did not work out quite so well. She begged me to let her go to gymnastics camp, and would not stop crying until I sought out the director and signed her up. Fortunately she let me give her a trial day before shelling out more cash for another questionable venture. So yesterday we gave it a shot. Sof lasted about 25 minutes, when halfway into the stretches she looked up at me (where I quietly watched for the mezanine, anticipating this moment) and said "Mom! I don't like this, let's go home!" Maybe we'll try again next year.
For now we eagerly await the start of school in just a couple short weeks. Time for someone else to boss them around for a while. Probably will be good for all of us.
Saturday, July 14, 2012
Gathering the Generations
I cannot get it together to write blogs when the action is fresh. Just can't do it. Someone is either climbing up my back to get at the computer keys, or I'm shampooing excrement from the dog's wild party the night before. Life is not romantic most of the time, and it's hard to find time to blog. But I want to, I really do.
So we spent last week up in the mountains of Pennsylvania with the majority of my extended Hartshorne family, and what a joy it was. Even my aging grandparents joined us at our rental palace for a few days at the glorious Eagles Mere lake. Our trip far surpassed my expectations, and those of most of the family as well. I just kept blurting out "I can't believe what a great time I'm having!" and other cheesy lines, unable to control my enthusiasm for the family bonding.
And bond we did.
Our family has never been the lawn games/charades/relay race type, but somehow in this 1950's time warp of a town we became just that. Each night one family member would make dinner for the rest, someone else would take their turn and the rest would enjoy the sumptuous meal prepared for them. Then after dinner the kids would decide which game would be fun, and we'd all somehow agree that we wanted to play, gather around in the big living room or out on the lawn and play for hours, old cavorting with young without the barrier of electronics impinging on our fun. We spent the days on the beach of the lake; swimming, sailing, diving off the dock, and calling each other on the rotary phone when it was time for dinner. Every so often an announcement would come over the loud speaker "Wiffleball on the back lawn at 1:30!" and all the kids would run off towards which ever fun activity was next. Fan-freaking-tastic.
My children did not once ask for television or computers, they got to know the great-grandparents who have only been on the outskirts of their lives thusfar, and I was lucky to connect with my younger cousins who have grown into talented, lovely people.
It's amazing how easy it is to avoid spending time together these days. We all agreed that we'll be heading back to Eagles Mere next year to ensure that our connections last.
So we spent last week up in the mountains of Pennsylvania with the majority of my extended Hartshorne family, and what a joy it was. Even my aging grandparents joined us at our rental palace for a few days at the glorious Eagles Mere lake. Our trip far surpassed my expectations, and those of most of the family as well. I just kept blurting out "I can't believe what a great time I'm having!" and other cheesy lines, unable to control my enthusiasm for the family bonding.
And bond we did.
Our family has never been the lawn games/charades/relay race type, but somehow in this 1950's time warp of a town we became just that. Each night one family member would make dinner for the rest, someone else would take their turn and the rest would enjoy the sumptuous meal prepared for them. Then after dinner the kids would decide which game would be fun, and we'd all somehow agree that we wanted to play, gather around in the big living room or out on the lawn and play for hours, old cavorting with young without the barrier of electronics impinging on our fun. We spent the days on the beach of the lake; swimming, sailing, diving off the dock, and calling each other on the rotary phone when it was time for dinner. Every so often an announcement would come over the loud speaker "Wiffleball on the back lawn at 1:30!" and all the kids would run off towards which ever fun activity was next. Fan-freaking-tastic.
My children did not once ask for television or computers, they got to know the great-grandparents who have only been on the outskirts of their lives thusfar, and I was lucky to connect with my younger cousins who have grown into talented, lovely people.
It's amazing how easy it is to avoid spending time together these days. We all agreed that we'll be heading back to Eagles Mere next year to ensure that our connections last.
Saturday, June 30, 2012
Storm Before Calm
For some reason before going away on vacation, I always bombard myself with an unreasonable amount of things to do. For the past week I have run around like a crazy woman gathering, shopping, cleaning, putting up window screens, setting up the new pool, organzing, unpacking, schlepping kids around, and oh yes, working almost twice my normal hours at the Birthplace.
I love my job but I won't be sorry for the week away. It has been downright crazy for the past couple of weeks at work (Hurricaine Irene anyone?) and now the labor and delivery nurses are paying the price. The beauty of my job is that I work with one of the most outstanding teams around, so a busy time usually just means more solidarity to get through it. The only downside is that it's summer, and most of us want to be by the pool with a margarita and not in our scrubs.
So I am finishing up another long night shift here and heading out to Pennsylvania today after a couple of hours of sleep. Francisco is staying home to hold down the fort, as we learned a long time ago that we really do like to vacation separately most of the time. Or rather, I like to go places and he likes to stay home. So I will load up the kids for the six hour drive to our glorious rental house on a lake, and join my aunts, grandparents, and cousins for some old school reunioning. I feel like I have run a marathon to get here. I'm pretty sure I do this to myself so that once I am sitting on the porch with a cocktail and my feet up, I will really appreciate it.
I love my job but I won't be sorry for the week away. It has been downright crazy for the past couple of weeks at work (Hurricaine Irene anyone?) and now the labor and delivery nurses are paying the price. The beauty of my job is that I work with one of the most outstanding teams around, so a busy time usually just means more solidarity to get through it. The only downside is that it's summer, and most of us want to be by the pool with a margarita and not in our scrubs.
So I am finishing up another long night shift here and heading out to Pennsylvania today after a couple of hours of sleep. Francisco is staying home to hold down the fort, as we learned a long time ago that we really do like to vacation separately most of the time. Or rather, I like to go places and he likes to stay home. So I will load up the kids for the six hour drive to our glorious rental house on a lake, and join my aunts, grandparents, and cousins for some old school reunioning. I feel like I have run a marathon to get here. I'm pretty sure I do this to myself so that once I am sitting on the porch with a cocktail and my feet up, I will really appreciate it.
Friday, June 15, 2012
We're in... Now what???
So now that we're in our new house I have to wonder, what comes next? There are still so many things we need to buy and do to make our home the way we want it, prepare for winter weather changes, and accomodate our lifestyle, it's hard to know where to start. What do people do? Do you buy the generator or the shed? The gutters or the snowblower? The wood stove or the hot tub? We don't actually have money for any of these things, but the question really is how do people know what comes first?
It's all a bit overwhelming, and I'm sure that will calm down once we are settled in, but I can't help feeling a little bit like a kid dressing up in my mom's clothes. This feels like a big responsibility and I'm faking it until I make it. Advice welcome from all the adults out there, right now I'm just a five year old in shoulder pads and ivory pumps.
It's all a bit overwhelming, and I'm sure that will calm down once we are settled in, but I can't help feeling a little bit like a kid dressing up in my mom's clothes. This feels like a big responsibility and I'm faking it until I make it. Advice welcome from all the adults out there, right now I'm just a five year old in shoulder pads and ivory pumps.
Thursday, June 14, 2012
Creating Our Nest: Before and After Goodies
Ta Daaaaa!!! We're in, and it's amazing! I never thought I could be in love with a house, but yep, I am. Feels like we have always been meant to live here, we are really loving it. So many people have been requesting the before and after photos of what we've done so far, so let's see if this works...
Attic bedroom before:
.JPG)
Nathan's attic bedroom after:
.JPG)
And after:
.JPG)
.JPG)
Laundry room before (don't have a picture of the laundry room after yet, but the breakfast bar is right next to it and is now the same color, so you get the idea):
.JPG)
.JPG)
And after:
Kitchen before:
.JPG)
.JPG)
Full bathroom before:
.JPG)
And after:
Living room before (dark!):
.JPG)
Living room after:
Attic bedroom before:
.JPG)
Nathan's attic bedroom after:
Sofie's bedroom before:
.JPG)
Our bedroom before: (note hideous hot salmon color)
.JPG)
.JPG)
And our bedroom after:
.JPG)
Breakfast bar after:
Half bathroom before:
.JPG)
And after:
Kitchen before:
.JPG)
.JPG)
And kitchen after:
.JPG)
Living room before (dark!):
.JPG)
Living room after:
Saturday, June 2, 2012
Colorful Appreciation
We are up to our eyeballs in paint! We closed on our new house on Wednesday and have been working ever since to make the place beautiful. I must say, it's looking pretty freaking good (before and after pics will be taken after completion). Our living room is a beautiful spring green, the kitchen a sunny yellow, soft blue bathrooms, and the mudroom a bright refreshing orange. Anyone who knows me and Francisco knows that we are anything but beige. I had originally planned a bunch of neutral earthtones, but I couldn't go through with it. I need color to brighten up our lives, so much of my mood is affected by my surroundings, why not make our new home cheerful?
We are not done yet, but I am flabbergasted by our progress. For this I have to thank my lovely, generous friends. Several gracious souls have shown up on our doorstep and been happily put to work, dancing to the beat and rolling out the colors. Francisco and I have both been overwhelmed by the generosity of everyone, and I can't tell you how much I appreciate it. It really is amazing how fast things get done when there are many hands working together. I think we'll be moving in sooner than we thought! Can't wait to have our first BBQ to show our appreciation for all the love flowing our way...
We are not done yet, but I am flabbergasted by our progress. For this I have to thank my lovely, generous friends. Several gracious souls have shown up on our doorstep and been happily put to work, dancing to the beat and rolling out the colors. Francisco and I have both been overwhelmed by the generosity of everyone, and I can't tell you how much I appreciate it. It really is amazing how fast things get done when there are many hands working together. I think we'll be moving in sooner than we thought! Can't wait to have our first BBQ to show our appreciation for all the love flowing our way...
Monday, May 21, 2012
Moving is Hard!
It's official: I hate moving. Well, maybe I don't hate moving, but I do hate packing. Sorting through seven plus years of our crap, dividing up what is mine and what is my dad's, figuring out how much we will have to buy after separating our joint household. All of it is a complete pain in the ass. I guess this is not some big news flash.
Our days are currently spent surrounded by mountains of cardboard and plastic trash bags. No one can find any socks because I've either packed them or sent them off to the Salvation Army. Sorry for you, blisters for all until June 10th! That's what you all get for not helping me pack. Not that I want help, I tend to revert to complete control freakness when it comes to arranging our stuff in boxes. I need to be the one to decide what stays and what goes. I need to be the one to throw it all haphazardly into a box, sans bubble wrap, and hope for the best. It will be my fault, and mine alone, when we arrive at our new house with only broken dishes and smashed up lamps. Oops!
Our days are currently spent surrounded by mountains of cardboard and plastic trash bags. No one can find any socks because I've either packed them or sent them off to the Salvation Army. Sorry for you, blisters for all until June 10th! That's what you all get for not helping me pack. Not that I want help, I tend to revert to complete control freakness when it comes to arranging our stuff in boxes. I need to be the one to decide what stays and what goes. I need to be the one to throw it all haphazardly into a box, sans bubble wrap, and hope for the best. It will be my fault, and mine alone, when we arrive at our new house with only broken dishes and smashed up lamps. Oops!
Monday, May 14, 2012
Mothers' Day
Happy Mothers' Day everyone! Somewhat belated, but heartfelt nonetheless. Looking at my beautiful daughter this morning I am inspired to write about the special gift of motherhood.
Last night I made dinner after waking from working for the past three nights. I served dinner to my children and then washed all the dishes. I felt a little resentful of the lack of enthusiasm exuding from my family for what is supposed to be "my day", although I did receive some beautiful flowers that were a helpful focus tool when feeling that twinge of irritation. I bought myself a bottle of good champagne and watched the (guilty pleasure alert!) Desperate Housewives finale with my dad and Mary. That in itself is the makings of a good day as far as I'm concerned.
What I realize today in the clear morning light is that mothers never really get a day, but I get every day. Despite the mundane tasks, tantrums, exhaustion, and ass-wiping that come with the territory, I am blessed to have these two miracles in my life. I love being woken up at the crack of dawn with Sofie holding my iPod telling me to "raise the roof Mama, Billie Jean is on!" I love watching Nathan run down the street with his pack of kids and their squirt guns, soaked to the gills and blissfully smiling. I will miss the mundane terribly when they are older and have no time for me, I have no doubt about that.
And to my own mother this Mothers' Day:
You made me who I am today and for every minute that you trudged through life to give us what we had I am grateful. There is nothing in the world that compares to my memories of snuggling in your bed with you and twirling your hair to fall asleep. I have never felt so safe as when you would hold me, I always knew that home was wherever you were. I love you, I respect you, I appreciate you, and I thank you. Happy Mothers' Day Mom.
Last night I made dinner after waking from working for the past three nights. I served dinner to my children and then washed all the dishes. I felt a little resentful of the lack of enthusiasm exuding from my family for what is supposed to be "my day", although I did receive some beautiful flowers that were a helpful focus tool when feeling that twinge of irritation. I bought myself a bottle of good champagne and watched the (guilty pleasure alert!) Desperate Housewives finale with my dad and Mary. That in itself is the makings of a good day as far as I'm concerned.
What I realize today in the clear morning light is that mothers never really get a day, but I get every day. Despite the mundane tasks, tantrums, exhaustion, and ass-wiping that come with the territory, I am blessed to have these two miracles in my life. I love being woken up at the crack of dawn with Sofie holding my iPod telling me to "raise the roof Mama, Billie Jean is on!" I love watching Nathan run down the street with his pack of kids and their squirt guns, soaked to the gills and blissfully smiling. I will miss the mundane terribly when they are older and have no time for me, I have no doubt about that.
And to my own mother this Mothers' Day:
You made me who I am today and for every minute that you trudged through life to give us what we had I am grateful. There is nothing in the world that compares to my memories of snuggling in your bed with you and twirling your hair to fall asleep. I have never felt so safe as when you would hold me, I always knew that home was wherever you were. I love you, I respect you, I appreciate you, and I thank you. Happy Mothers' Day Mom.
Thursday, May 10, 2012
Can't Wake Up
I don't know what is going on with me lately but I can't wake up. I am perpetually tired and hard as I try I cannot get back the energy that I usually have. And it's bringing me down, especially in the mid afternoon as I struggle to keep my eyes open through any task or setting. I may have to invest in some tiny toothpicks to help me, Wile E. Coyote style.
I believe the problem is that I have been super sedentary and have not exercised in what feels like decades, along with eating a crappy diet fueled predominately by caffeine and carbs. But there is also the issue of forcing myself to stay awake all night 2-3 nights a week to earn a living.
Not to mention that when I am able to go to bed at a reasonable hour I can't fall asleep for the swirling thoughts of a family in the midst of a huge life change.
Or the children that appear in my bed in the middle of the night thrashing around in search of comfort.
Or the barking dog in my living room at 2am.
Fuck. I need a nap.
I believe the problem is that I have been super sedentary and have not exercised in what feels like decades, along with eating a crappy diet fueled predominately by caffeine and carbs. But there is also the issue of forcing myself to stay awake all night 2-3 nights a week to earn a living.
Not to mention that when I am able to go to bed at a reasonable hour I can't fall asleep for the swirling thoughts of a family in the midst of a huge life change.
Or the children that appear in my bed in the middle of the night thrashing around in search of comfort.
Or the barking dog in my living room at 2am.
Fuck. I need a nap.
Sunday, May 6, 2012
New Adventures Close to Home
We're back from our visit to the Dominican. After nine hot days drinking coca cola, eating rice and beans, and doing absolutely nothing (but not in that romantic lying-on-the-beach kind of way, I mean really boring, mind-numbing nothingness) we were more than ready to come back home to reality. And by reality, I mean home ownership.
That's right, Francisco and I have found ourselves a house of our own and as soon as we can muddle through all the paperwork and legalities we will be moving up like the Jeffersons. And we are excited. So. Excited.
The house is a farm house from about 1900, but in fantastic shape thanks to the previous owners. It was the second house we looked at, and from the moment we walked in I knew I wanted to live there.
What I can't believe is how much crap goes along with buying a house. Call me naive, but is it really necessary to sign paperwork and measure stuff for months in order to purchase property? I can't really figure out what it is that takes so long, or why each form you sign costs $1000, but that seems to be the case. We are bleeding money along with our excitement. We might not be able to afford to eat for a few months once we've moved in, but at least we'll be hungry in our new house, and I can already tell that's going to feel just right.
That's right, Francisco and I have found ourselves a house of our own and as soon as we can muddle through all the paperwork and legalities we will be moving up like the Jeffersons. And we are excited. So. Excited.
The house is a farm house from about 1900, but in fantastic shape thanks to the previous owners. It was the second house we looked at, and from the moment we walked in I knew I wanted to live there.
What I can't believe is how much crap goes along with buying a house. Call me naive, but is it really necessary to sign paperwork and measure stuff for months in order to purchase property? I can't really figure out what it is that takes so long, or why each form you sign costs $1000, but that seems to be the case. We are bleeding money along with our excitement. We might not be able to afford to eat for a few months once we've moved in, but at least we'll be hungry in our new house, and I can already tell that's going to feel just right.
Sunday, April 15, 2012
Heading South...Again
Well, back we go to hot, tropical terrain. After returning from Puerto Rico high on the adreniline of life and adventure, and a surprisingly manageable flight experience, I figured it was best to strike while the iron was hot and buy three more plane tickets.
This time the kids and I are heading down to Pina Vieja, Dominican Republic, to visit my mother-in-law for eight days. We haven't seen Abuela in over two years, so what better an opportunity to visit then when I'm feeling at my most courageous.
I am not exactly sure what the week will bring, but I think I can give a pretty good guess to say that there will be a lot of sitting around on Abuela's porch, rum and cokes, people watching on her tiny country road, and gossping about the neigbors. The kids will run through the dusty neighborhood with the other millions of children, communicating in that amazing way that kids who don't speak the same language can do.
I will read my books, eat rice and beans, and maybe go dancing once or twice. Mostly I'm happy to do nothing at all but soak up the smells, sights, and feeling of the country that has come to feel like home to me. Pretty much the quintessential good times as far as I'm concerned. Looking forward to it.
This time the kids and I are heading down to Pina Vieja, Dominican Republic, to visit my mother-in-law for eight days. We haven't seen Abuela in over two years, so what better an opportunity to visit then when I'm feeling at my most courageous.
I am not exactly sure what the week will bring, but I think I can give a pretty good guess to say that there will be a lot of sitting around on Abuela's porch, rum and cokes, people watching on her tiny country road, and gossping about the neigbors. The kids will run through the dusty neighborhood with the other millions of children, communicating in that amazing way that kids who don't speak the same language can do.
I will read my books, eat rice and beans, and maybe go dancing once or twice. Mostly I'm happy to do nothing at all but soak up the smells, sights, and feeling of the country that has come to feel like home to me. Pretty much the quintessential good times as far as I'm concerned. Looking forward to it.
Sunday, April 8, 2012
I am overwhelmed today with the amount of tragedy and suffering that has abounded recently. It seems as though everywhere I look people are losing loved ones and coping with struggles infinately greater than reason. It does not seem fair, and if there is a reason for it, some guiding force beyond this madness, it sure would be good to know what that is.
Sadly, we don't know. We leave it up to fate, God, Mother Nature, the stars, whatever you believe in (or don't believe in) to look out for our fragile beings, and the uncertainty of our paths prevails. One just never knows what can happen at any moment, and this truth scares the crap out of me. I try to find solace in the precious moments when the sun shines on my face, or my child sleeps in my arms to know that although life may be fragile and fleeting, we are blessed to be here together.
Sadly, we don't know. We leave it up to fate, God, Mother Nature, the stars, whatever you believe in (or don't believe in) to look out for our fragile beings, and the uncertainty of our paths prevails. One just never knows what can happen at any moment, and this truth scares the crap out of me. I try to find solace in the precious moments when the sun shines on my face, or my child sleeps in my arms to know that although life may be fragile and fleeting, we are blessed to be here together.
Sunday, March 25, 2012
More about Puerto Rico...
The best day for all of us on our Puerto Rican holiday was our trip to the deserted island of Icacos with East Island Excursions. This company runs several different boat trips with various adventures such as snorkeling or visiting one of the bio- luminescent bays. Our trip was a daytime snorkeling trip aboard a sailing catamaran called East Wind.
We boarded the ship around 9:30am , and immediately the rum punch was flowing. Our host was Owen Wilson's doppelganger, crew member Levi. With four years of experience sailing with East Island, Levi took no time to gain the passengers' trust, it was obvious by his friendly personality and relaxed manner that he loves his job, and wants everyone to have a good time. Food and drink was included in this adventure, and I could feel my limbs becoming loose before the boat set out into crystal clear open water.
We anchored at Icacos for almost 2 hours and were able to comb the beach, snorkel, and fly off the water slide into the ocean. Ultimate kid and adult heaven. Perfect white sand, clear water for snorkeling, and few enough of us to never feel crowded. The crew was comprised of helpful strapping men who suited us up and taught us the pointers of seeing the best sights, all the while staying calm, friendly, and attentive to the 77 passengers on the boat.
Our second stop was snorkeling stop at Cayo Tortuga, a site known for sea turtles. We were not so lucky this stop, and on my one attempt to snorkel I found it difficult to make it out to see much, perhaps it was the combination of the current and the daiquiris. Liz and her son Andrew had better luck and explored the reef easily. Even without the snorkeling, lying out on the deck taking in the surroundings was far more pleasing than anything I could have imagined. My only complaint was that our five hour day was not long enough, I could have stayed a week. When we docked back in Fajardo the kids and adults agreed that our adventure with East Island Excursions was unbeatable, a perfect day for the whole family. I can't recommend these guys enough.
Monday, March 19, 2012
Hazardous fun in Culebra
Our final full day in PR was a trip to the island of Culebra. Sometimes known as the "Spanish Virgin Islands", Culebra and it's larger sister island Vieques are vacation destinations unto themselves, but can also be great for a day trip when visiting the mainland. We booked the ferry a few days in advance, and found it almost impossible to visit on the weekend, but Tuesday was no problem. The ride cost just a few dollars per person round trip, and took about 1 1/2 hours each way. We left at 9 am and were on the reputably beautiful Flamenco beach by 11, with the assistance of a tiny Puerto Rican taxi driver ($30 round trip). The ferry ride to Culebra was choppy, even in the seemingly still waters, so beware of sea sickness if you are prone to it.
Once arriving at the beach, the sand was pure white and the waters crystal blue, it was a beautiful location to end our visit to Puerto Rico. We rented snorkeling gear, and Liz headed out on her own to explore the reef that lies directly on Flamenco Beach. While admiring purple jellyfish and barracudas she was swept out a little too far and got caught up in a rip current. Thankfully a man nearby heard her cry for help and pulled my dear friend to safety, as I smiled at her from the shore, thinking her waving was in merriment at the beautiful surroundings. Dear God. Warning: when snorkeling, especially after drinking pina coladas, it is best to wear a flotation device and use the buddy system.
Once arriving at the beach, the sand was pure white and the waters crystal blue, it was a beautiful location to end our visit to Puerto Rico. We rented snorkeling gear, and Liz headed out on her own to explore the reef that lies directly on Flamenco Beach. While admiring purple jellyfish and barracudas she was swept out a little too far and got caught up in a rip current. Thankfully a man nearby heard her cry for help and pulled my dear friend to safety, as I smiled at her from the shore, thinking her waving was in merriment at the beautiful surroundings. Dear God. Warning: when snorkeling, especially after drinking pina coladas, it is best to wear a flotation device and use the buddy system.
Monday, February 27, 2012
Fresh Start
For the past two weeks I have been helping out a good friend. Well, I guess not really helping out, as this friend certainly didn't ask me for my help, but rather sticking my big nose in his business and taking it upon myself to give this friend a big change, desired or not. Call it presumptuous, but sometimes people just need you to get the ball rolling to make a big life change.
So I started this daunting project of cleaning out my friend's room, in order to make it a comfortable space for when he is discharged from the hospital and able to come home. When we began, I wasn't sure if he was ever going to come home, he was in a coma on a ventilator and no one was sure what was going to happen to him. Now, thanks to the grace of god, western medicine, and his amazing resolve, my friend is awake, alive, and walking and talking like never before. What a wonderful turn of events.
Upon visiting him tonight in the hospital, I showed him the photos I took of his new room. Crisp and clean, free of clutter and debris, complete with new furniture to fit his needs, it will be a great fresh start to his much needed health overhaul. I was nervous to show him the pictures, afraid he might be upset at my "when in doubt, throw it out" attitude, I couldn't have been more wrong. His eyes glistened with tears and his jaw hit the floor as he viewed the incredible transformation. He couldn't stop staring, blown away by the immensity of the change, overwhelmed with gratitude and disbelief. A truly beautiful moment to behold. I cannot wait to see how he reacts when he is ready to come home to live, I hope it will be the new start he so desperately needs.
Monday, February 13, 2012
A Beautiful Friendship
I woke up this morning still reeling from a wonderfully fulfilling weekend. I was the lucky hostess of seven of my closest friends from high school and some of their children and significant others. The party started Thursday afternoon and kept on going until the last friend left yesterday at around 5pm.
I spend months harassing these people to carve out dates, get off the proverbial fence, and commit to taking the time out of their busy schedules to get together for a few days. The annoyance with the constant barrage of emails is palpable, yet I persist, knowing that the ultimate goal of togetherness is always worth it. Seeing my friends embrace in the long overdue hello definitely makes it all worth the time and energy.
What I found the most amazing about this weekend was the compatibility factor. I cannot imagine another scenario in which 12 people could share my little house and get along so well. I never for one second felt annoyed with anyone or the situation at large, in fact I was totally sad to see them all go. That is true friendship.
In the midst of the laughing, cooking, dancing, and story-telling we decided that we really should just give it up and move to a big commune all together. Why the hell not? Keep the good times rolling I say, I can't imagine a more fantastic fantasy come true. So if anyone knows of a good spot we can overtake, let me know, I'm in.
Until next time friends, you'll be hearing from me about the next gathering real soon...
I spend months harassing these people to carve out dates, get off the proverbial fence, and commit to taking the time out of their busy schedules to get together for a few days. The annoyance with the constant barrage of emails is palpable, yet I persist, knowing that the ultimate goal of togetherness is always worth it. Seeing my friends embrace in the long overdue hello definitely makes it all worth the time and energy.
What I found the most amazing about this weekend was the compatibility factor. I cannot imagine another scenario in which 12 people could share my little house and get along so well. I never for one second felt annoyed with anyone or the situation at large, in fact I was totally sad to see them all go. That is true friendship.
In the midst of the laughing, cooking, dancing, and story-telling we decided that we really should just give it up and move to a big commune all together. Why the hell not? Keep the good times rolling I say, I can't imagine a more fantastic fantasy come true. So if anyone knows of a good spot we can overtake, let me know, I'm in.
Until next time friends, you'll be hearing from me about the next gathering real soon...
Sunday, January 29, 2012
Random Acts of Kindness
Nothing makes me happier than random acts of kindness. Especially when they are directed towards me.
This week I was on the receiving end when I was given a new (gently used) computer from a good friend of my dad. I have only met this man a few times in my life and I was lucky enough to benefit from his generosity, certainly kind to say the least.
Now every time I type on my new computer I am reminded to act in the same manner whenever possible. Doing for others and helping someone when you can not only makes someone else feel good, it also keeps the karma flowing. What a great way to live.
This week I was on the receiving end when I was given a new (gently used) computer from a good friend of my dad. I have only met this man a few times in my life and I was lucky enough to benefit from his generosity, certainly kind to say the least.
Now every time I type on my new computer I am reminded to act in the same manner whenever possible. Doing for others and helping someone when you can not only makes someone else feel good, it also keeps the karma flowing. What a great way to live.
Friday, January 27, 2012
Hot Sweaty Torture
This week I tried out Francisco's newest fad: Bikram Yoga.
I went with him to the studio in Sunderland where the instructors crank up the heat to 104 degrees (before counting the body heat that will then raise the temperature to what must be at least 130). I started the class by lying down in the relaxation pose that I will not even try to spell (I am not afraid to admit that I am a complete yoga novice, having only ever taken a few classes here and there throughout my life). When they had us stand up the wall of heat that had risen to the surface literally took my breath away, and the oxygen breathed in felt like fire in my lungs. Good times.
Then came the sweat.
The only way to describe the amount of sweat coming off of myself and all of the other bodies in that room is to say that we could only have been wetter had we been underwater. Sweat from my eyes, my shins, and my elbows. Unbelievable. So. Damn. Hot. Our towels were soaked underneath us after the 90 agonizing minutes of twisting and bending into unlikely positions, and I felt a strong urge to throw my clothes out before leaving the locker room.
The yoga itself was not all that impressive. It felt like I was in a military boot camp of flexibility. The man yelled at us to stretch to the point of pain (something I don't remember happening at other yoga classes I've attended), and the woman instructor barked out orders like a tape recorder, clearly she has this script memorized. It seemed almost dangerous, the commanding voices yelling at us to push harder when my head spun from the heat. Several people had to sit down, and one girl had to leave, even though the first thing we were instructed was to try and stick it out.
I am proud to say that I did not leave the room or pass out from the heat. I was by far the oldest and fattest woman in the room and I made it through (barely) two days in a row. I think if I kept it up I might not be the fattest person in the room for long, as it does seem like the pounds would probably sweat off quickly . I'm just not sure if that's worth the unbearable pain of a room that hot, staring up at the fluorescent lights and praying for the instructor to open the door for only a few seconds.
The good thing about Hot Bikram yoga was that the next day I definitely felt rejuvenated and limber. I had more energy than I've had in a long time, and my body felt healthier. I've been motivated to take up salad again, and fill my body with better things, so this might be worth the torture. I have never experienced anything so simultaneously hideous and fantastic. Maybe that's part of the appeal.
I went with him to the studio in Sunderland where the instructors crank up the heat to 104 degrees (before counting the body heat that will then raise the temperature to what must be at least 130). I started the class by lying down in the relaxation pose that I will not even try to spell (I am not afraid to admit that I am a complete yoga novice, having only ever taken a few classes here and there throughout my life). When they had us stand up the wall of heat that had risen to the surface literally took my breath away, and the oxygen breathed in felt like fire in my lungs. Good times.
Then came the sweat.
The only way to describe the amount of sweat coming off of myself and all of the other bodies in that room is to say that we could only have been wetter had we been underwater. Sweat from my eyes, my shins, and my elbows. Unbelievable. So. Damn. Hot. Our towels were soaked underneath us after the 90 agonizing minutes of twisting and bending into unlikely positions, and I felt a strong urge to throw my clothes out before leaving the locker room.
The yoga itself was not all that impressive. It felt like I was in a military boot camp of flexibility. The man yelled at us to stretch to the point of pain (something I don't remember happening at other yoga classes I've attended), and the woman instructor barked out orders like a tape recorder, clearly she has this script memorized. It seemed almost dangerous, the commanding voices yelling at us to push harder when my head spun from the heat. Several people had to sit down, and one girl had to leave, even though the first thing we were instructed was to try and stick it out.
I am proud to say that I did not leave the room or pass out from the heat. I was by far the oldest and fattest woman in the room and I made it through (barely) two days in a row. I think if I kept it up I might not be the fattest person in the room for long, as it does seem like the pounds would probably sweat off quickly . I'm just not sure if that's worth the unbearable pain of a room that hot, staring up at the fluorescent lights and praying for the instructor to open the door for only a few seconds.
The good thing about Hot Bikram yoga was that the next day I definitely felt rejuvenated and limber. I had more energy than I've had in a long time, and my body felt healthier. I've been motivated to take up salad again, and fill my body with better things, so this might be worth the torture. I have never experienced anything so simultaneously hideous and fantastic. Maybe that's part of the appeal.
Thursday, January 19, 2012
Girls' night: the unattainable dream.
I spent last night tucked on to a cozy couch talking about all things sex and child rearing. It was moms' night at my friend Lu's house. We try and get together at least every few months, waiting until our children are tucked into bed and then sneaking out into the cold winter night armed with champagne and brownies. We meet up at Lu's house to spend a couple of hours letting out our grievances and laughing about our various mishaps and parenting follies.
Long ago, this was just a regular night hanging out with friends. Now it feels like the event of the year. When did girls' night become a momentous occasion unattainable more than three times a year?
Today I couldn't wake up. Went to bed late and got Nathan off to school late, the unfortunate side effect of a night out. Now Sofie and I are off to gym-and-swim. There is nothing I hate more than stripping down in the middle of winter, suiting up for the world to see my back fat and cellulite, and hopping into a heavily chlorinated, urine-soaked public pool for an hour. But the kid loves it, so off I go.
Long ago, this was just a regular night hanging out with friends. Now it feels like the event of the year. When did girls' night become a momentous occasion unattainable more than three times a year?
Today I couldn't wake up. Went to bed late and got Nathan off to school late, the unfortunate side effect of a night out. Now Sofie and I are off to gym-and-swim. There is nothing I hate more than stripping down in the middle of winter, suiting up for the world to see my back fat and cellulite, and hopping into a heavily chlorinated, urine-soaked public pool for an hour. But the kid loves it, so off I go.
Tuesday, January 17, 2012
The Witching Hour
Today was a very busy day.
I spent the morning cleaning the hell out of my basement. Not just cleaning, I mean hauling crap by the bucket load out from the creepy cobweb-ridden, offensive smelling storage room that hides in the dark recesses of our home.
I'm sure everyone has a secret place like this in their home (although maybe not so hideous as mine). A place where you shove and toss all of the things you don't want to deal with, but maybe aren't ready to throw away yet. So today I threw it all (and then some) out. Satisfying? Of course. Purging our house of unnecessary crap is like popping the world's biggest pimple, a complete emptying of that which we do not need to perhaps make the house somewhere that someone might actually want to live, or at least visit.
So I cleaned it all out (by myself no less) and called my dad in a panic to come and haul it all away before my husband comes home and tries to paw through the pile and squirrel-nutkin the junk back into our lives. Francisco is secretly a hoarder.
So after all the hauling, cleaning, vacuuming, and scrubbing, I turned to spend a bit of quality time with my television zombie three year old. We went to the library and Dunkin Donuts, doesn't get more quality than a chocolate donut.
After picking up Nathan we headed home to embark on what I refer to as the Witching Hour. Other moms must know about this terrible time. It's the hour upon arriving home from school (especially in the cold dark winter) before dinner time. My kids immediately set into the "I'm boooorrreeedd! There's nothing to dooooooo!" before settling in to battle each other until somebody bleeds.
Torture.
Pure. Mother. Torture.
When I'm tired after a long day I am powerless to prevent this inevitable hour of endless fighting, so it generally ends up with me in a threat-fueled, time out sending, power struggle until I give it up and let them watch PBS.
We somehow make it through dinner and bedtime routines before I collapse in a heap like the collapsible frink, unable to move, speak, or do anything but curl up in the fetal position, gearing up for another busy day tomorrow.
I spent the morning cleaning the hell out of my basement. Not just cleaning, I mean hauling crap by the bucket load out from the creepy cobweb-ridden, offensive smelling storage room that hides in the dark recesses of our home.
I'm sure everyone has a secret place like this in their home (although maybe not so hideous as mine). A place where you shove and toss all of the things you don't want to deal with, but maybe aren't ready to throw away yet. So today I threw it all (and then some) out. Satisfying? Of course. Purging our house of unnecessary crap is like popping the world's biggest pimple, a complete emptying of that which we do not need to perhaps make the house somewhere that someone might actually want to live, or at least visit.
So I cleaned it all out (by myself no less) and called my dad in a panic to come and haul it all away before my husband comes home and tries to paw through the pile and squirrel-nutkin the junk back into our lives. Francisco is secretly a hoarder.
So after all the hauling, cleaning, vacuuming, and scrubbing, I turned to spend a bit of quality time with my television zombie three year old. We went to the library and Dunkin Donuts, doesn't get more quality than a chocolate donut.
After picking up Nathan we headed home to embark on what I refer to as the Witching Hour. Other moms must know about this terrible time. It's the hour upon arriving home from school (especially in the cold dark winter) before dinner time. My kids immediately set into the "I'm boooorrreeedd! There's nothing to dooooooo!" before settling in to battle each other until somebody bleeds.
Torture.
Pure. Mother. Torture.
When I'm tired after a long day I am powerless to prevent this inevitable hour of endless fighting, so it generally ends up with me in a threat-fueled, time out sending, power struggle until I give it up and let them watch PBS.
We somehow make it through dinner and bedtime routines before I collapse in a heap like the collapsible frink, unable to move, speak, or do anything but curl up in the fetal position, gearing up for another busy day tomorrow.
Saturday, January 7, 2012
The Last Straw
I was chatting with a friend of mine at work tonight about things about our husbands that make us crazy. She says that her ex-husband's loud coffee stirring was the straw that broke the proverbial camel (or wife's) back, and sent her running for a divorce. Another friend says that her husband shovels their stuff into drawers and closets to get the appearance of cleanliness in their house, making it impossible to find anything.
My husband doesn't have me running for the door at this point, but there is one creepy horrible habit that I have to get off my chest (and man am I glad that he doesn't read my blog). Here it is...
He eats almost every meal with his hands.
There, I said it. Rice, chicken, beans, you name it, he shovels it in by the finger full, and I get nauseous every time I witness it. He saves this display for meals that are just the family, so I get a full viewing of the finger food all the time. Nothing else grosses me out quite so marvelously, and I am convinced he does it all the more to piss me off.
What's your spousal pet peeve?
My husband doesn't have me running for the door at this point, but there is one creepy horrible habit that I have to get off my chest (and man am I glad that he doesn't read my blog). Here it is...
He eats almost every meal with his hands.
There, I said it. Rice, chicken, beans, you name it, he shovels it in by the finger full, and I get nauseous every time I witness it. He saves this display for meals that are just the family, so I get a full viewing of the finger food all the time. Nothing else grosses me out quite so marvelously, and I am convinced he does it all the more to piss me off.
What's your spousal pet peeve?
Monday, January 2, 2012
Happy New Year
Welcome 2012! Here you are, there is no choice but to welcome you, time is slipping away and I can either jump on board or live in dread of the passage.
We spent New Years Eve at a fun party at my friends' farm in Whately. Ainsley and Dave created a kid and adult party wonderland in their greenhouse. Toasty warm with heaters blowing, music crowing on the stereo, hoers-de-oeuvres lining the tables, and champagne punch overflowing my glass. This party was not one to be missed. They had the kids' evening organized down to the last detail, with fun stations for kids to stop in a do an activity or two, a pinata, and impressive balloon drop to boot.
The kids ran around and stayed out of the parents' way while we feasted and chatted about. Great conversation, yummy food, good times. The only disappointment? We were in the car and on our way home (the last to leave) at 8:45. Ah, the joys of partying with young children. I'm hoping someday to stay at a party until the new year again, but I'm thinking I may have to wait a few years. That's ok with me, time can slow right on down and let me enjoy it...
We spent New Years Eve at a fun party at my friends' farm in Whately. Ainsley and Dave created a kid and adult party wonderland in their greenhouse. Toasty warm with heaters blowing, music crowing on the stereo, hoers-de-oeuvres lining the tables, and champagne punch overflowing my glass. This party was not one to be missed. They had the kids' evening organized down to the last detail, with fun stations for kids to stop in a do an activity or two, a pinata, and impressive balloon drop to boot.
The kids ran around and stayed out of the parents' way while we feasted and chatted about. Great conversation, yummy food, good times. The only disappointment? We were in the car and on our way home (the last to leave) at 8:45. Ah, the joys of partying with young children. I'm hoping someday to stay at a party until the new year again, but I'm thinking I may have to wait a few years. That's ok with me, time can slow right on down and let me enjoy it...
Subscribe to:
Posts (Atom)