I got up this morning to find that one of my herd had gotten into the refrigerator. They then proceeded to make a "snack". By snack, I mean something that would feed a family of four, with leftovers. They then left all their mess out, presumably for me to see that they in deed ate something healthy. Well, that's what I am choosing to believe as the only other reason for this mess is that they are lazy. Couldn't possibly be that, right?
My kids believe that I obsess about the cleanliness of this house. So one day last week, I didn't do anything. No dishes, no beds being made (or yelling at, pleading or plain grounding of kids who choose not to), didn't loose my mind over dishes left in the living room (which has been off limits for food consumption since pre-birth, however this hasn't stopped them from eating in there), nothing. When I came home from work, well, let's just say my house had developed a peculiar smell, there were no clean dishes anywhere and the floors were sticky. I didn't inquire about the floors as I admit it, I was afraid to find out why. I have come to believe that there are certain things about which the less knowledge, the better. Here is a portion of the following conversation:
"Hey mom. What's for dinner?" It is 3 p.m. and while I notice the state of my kitchen, it becomes abundantly clear these kids aren't starving
"Nothing. No clean kitchen, no food." I walk upstairs.
"Are you kidding?? We are starving!" Someone explain to me how they can say that with a straight face!
"Oh, so you want food do you?"
"YES!"
"Well, start cleaning up the kitchen. When the kitchen is clean, I will start to cook."
You know the funny part? For three "starving" kids, it took them 45 minutes to start to clean. But the arguing started immediately. It had to be decided who would fetch what and put it where and who would sweep. Apparently I have been lax in showing my kids a broom and how to use it properly, but should you need anyone to show you how to use this tool as a sword, or a Congo stick or pool cue or bat, my oldest will happily oblige. Someone had to find the vacuum cleaner and then figure out how to remove the sock that was now firmly wedged in the roller. My kids are geniuses at "sweeping the room with a glance" and have yet figured out that just because the Dyson company claims their vacuum cleaner won't loose suction, it is not to be considered a challenge. Middle child seems to feel that any vacuum cleaner worth owning should not require one to pre-clean the room prior to use. He's vacuumed over pencils, more change that most banks see in a year, socks (currently his favorite thing to run over) the edge of an afghan my mom made me (tearing the yarn on it), his shirt, food items he's dropped in the room he wasn't supposed to be eating in, a spoon and a rubber balloon. He is now very knowledgeable in how to unstop a vacuum cleaner as I make him fix it every time he screws it up. The sock issue is, like the eating food in the living room, one more rule that all four other members in my home like to break. We have 3 clothes hampers. Yet there's a disconnect with our family in the belief that clothes removed will not walk themselves up to the hamper and jump in. I am happy to report that this issue isn't just a Bedard family occurrence as one of my dearest friends got so fed up with her husband not putting his dirty clothes in the hamper, she started folding them up and placing them back in his drawer. Even then, he didn't notice it for 2 months!! Which is light years away from when my family would notice. Somehow, we've produced children with no sense of smell. I wish I could say the same.
So now I will go clean up the kitchen as I am hungry and want to eat breakfast. They are in bed still and it's just not worth it to wake them up and make them clean. The quiet is refreshing, even if I have to wash, dry, feed livestock and wash the floors....I think it's orange juice.....on the floor...and the counter.....and the refrigerator door handle...and towel.........
Saturday, February 23, 2013
Friday, February 22, 2013
Stop arguing with me!.
You know, I always thought when the kids were little that life would get easier when they got older. I was so wrong. It is not only more difficult, it's difficult in so many new ways. I used to think that I'd finally get sleep when they were older. I wouldn't have to worry about SIDS. Mind you, I would nightly check them, all three of them. When my then 8 yr old son complained to his Dr. about me waking him up checking his breathing, the Dr. informed me that SIDS really didn't occur much beyond the first year of life, I started slacking off. Now I lie awake wondering if they really did stay at their friends house and with whom and doing what exactly. I used to say things like "Do it now or we stay home." and that meant something. Now they look at me and respond with "o.k., we stay home." When their friend up the street had a house party (unchaperoned) that included beer, wine and other stuff (as well as pot), and the cops showed up and busted everyone, I was thrilled that my sons were not there. They were at another friends house but I can't swear they were being good kids. I hope so. I pray so. But I know not. Many times my middle son and I have argued over the merits of legalizing marijuana (he is for, I am against), why there must be a drinking age at all, and that it his body to use and abuse (or not) and just because I am his parent, just how much say should I have anyway?
I made you. I felt you stir first. I knew you before anyone else. When you went into fetal distress and your heart stopped, it was I who overcame the odds to get you out of my body so that CPR could begin. It was your blue arm I remember seeing on that table while they worked on you. It was your first cry I heard that all but broke my heart with happiness. It was I that limited your access to sweets, t.v., the odd friend who had more freedoms that you did (and that he should have been allowed to have). It was I that drove you to absolutely every single game, concert, sleepover, Dr.'s appointment, and birthday party. It was I who held you while they set your broken arm. It was I who held you while they stitched you up. More than once. I have been with you almost always. So when you choose to do something that hurts or can potentially hurt your body, it is as if a small piece of me is being hurt as well.
When your kids are small, they argue but eventually bend to your reasoning. When they are older, they try to test your beliefs to see if you will bend and how long it will take and if you will loose your cool (yeah, like you EVER had cool to lose!). And yes, sometimes they try to get you all worked up, just to get you all worked up. My sons love to argue. They live for it. They will argue about anything and if there isn't anything to argue about, they'll make something up. For the longest time this was disturbing to me. When a family friend pointed out that they weren't arguing really, they were just trying out their opinions and learning how to state their beliefs and defend them, I started making them work for it. Being a past member of the debate team, I really started in on them. Give me 5 good reasons you feel this way, I'd say. I am not easy to argue with. I've noticed a decline in the amount of arguing going on in this house. Or maybe it's just volume control. We do loud REALLY, REALLY WELL! We've elevated it to an art form. O.k., some might confuse our conversations with yelling matches, but only the uninitiated. And I guess the hardest part of being a parent to a teen is realizing that your teen, your child, your baby, is pulling away from you and trying out their own wings. And that you have to let them, even if they fall, even if they have to take a bunch of attempts at lift off, you have to let them. And it scares the Hell out of you. My parents make so much sense now. When I was out of high school, I was convinced my parents were "nutcase of the year" recipients. My friends thought my parents were great, strict to the max, but great. I thought they were insane and secretly worried if it was in my DNA. Bad news, it was. Worse news, hey guys, you all have it. And when you have kids, well, let's hope that you wait a good, long time before that happens but believe me, you are going to look back on your dad and I and we are suddenly going to be so much smarter. I hope I am around to see it, although, again, I am in no hurry! Bill Cosby informed his kids that the woman they called Grammy wasn't the same woman that raised him, I can so relate! My mom smiles so much now! She NEVER smiled that much when I was a teen. Her twitching has gone away too. I jump at the slightest sound and twitch almost uncontrollably and she no longer does. She sleeps well at night too. So maybe when my kids are grown, married, and on their own, I will sleep too. Who knew it would take so long?
I made you. I felt you stir first. I knew you before anyone else. When you went into fetal distress and your heart stopped, it was I who overcame the odds to get you out of my body so that CPR could begin. It was your blue arm I remember seeing on that table while they worked on you. It was your first cry I heard that all but broke my heart with happiness. It was I that limited your access to sweets, t.v., the odd friend who had more freedoms that you did (and that he should have been allowed to have). It was I that drove you to absolutely every single game, concert, sleepover, Dr.'s appointment, and birthday party. It was I who held you while they set your broken arm. It was I who held you while they stitched you up. More than once. I have been with you almost always. So when you choose to do something that hurts or can potentially hurt your body, it is as if a small piece of me is being hurt as well.
When your kids are small, they argue but eventually bend to your reasoning. When they are older, they try to test your beliefs to see if you will bend and how long it will take and if you will loose your cool (yeah, like you EVER had cool to lose!). And yes, sometimes they try to get you all worked up, just to get you all worked up. My sons love to argue. They live for it. They will argue about anything and if there isn't anything to argue about, they'll make something up. For the longest time this was disturbing to me. When a family friend pointed out that they weren't arguing really, they were just trying out their opinions and learning how to state their beliefs and defend them, I started making them work for it. Being a past member of the debate team, I really started in on them. Give me 5 good reasons you feel this way, I'd say. I am not easy to argue with. I've noticed a decline in the amount of arguing going on in this house. Or maybe it's just volume control. We do loud REALLY, REALLY WELL! We've elevated it to an art form. O.k., some might confuse our conversations with yelling matches, but only the uninitiated. And I guess the hardest part of being a parent to a teen is realizing that your teen, your child, your baby, is pulling away from you and trying out their own wings. And that you have to let them, even if they fall, even if they have to take a bunch of attempts at lift off, you have to let them. And it scares the Hell out of you. My parents make so much sense now. When I was out of high school, I was convinced my parents were "nutcase of the year" recipients. My friends thought my parents were great, strict to the max, but great. I thought they were insane and secretly worried if it was in my DNA. Bad news, it was. Worse news, hey guys, you all have it. And when you have kids, well, let's hope that you wait a good, long time before that happens but believe me, you are going to look back on your dad and I and we are suddenly going to be so much smarter. I hope I am around to see it, although, again, I am in no hurry! Bill Cosby informed his kids that the woman they called Grammy wasn't the same woman that raised him, I can so relate! My mom smiles so much now! She NEVER smiled that much when I was a teen. Her twitching has gone away too. I jump at the slightest sound and twitch almost uncontrollably and she no longer does. She sleeps well at night too. So maybe when my kids are grown, married, and on their own, I will sleep too. Who knew it would take so long?
Sunday, February 17, 2013
Is it the weather, or what?
As I sit here typing this, it's extremely windy outside and snowing and just plain awful. I can't imagine why anyone would want to travel if they didn't have to and yet on my police scanner, there are numerous car accidents, which attest to many people being out and about. Not me. I don't worry about my driving per se, but I do worry about others driving. I am sure some psychologist would explain that I have a "control" issue or some other such problem. Truth is, I can't control the drivers around me and therefore I can (and will) just stay home. I can't get into an accident if I am safely parked in my driveway. Besides, I now have a perfectly good excuse to sit and type, read, knit and snooze. We have plenty of food available, heat, power (and a good generator if it comes to that) and we are together.
Sometimes I can't help but wonder if God uses these moments to reach us. I've have a very hectic 9 weeks with alot of running to and fro and late nights and early mornings. No rest, little rest and most definitely not enough rest. Now, I have the excuse to stop. We are commanded to have one day of rest and I spend that day in two churches, one in Bath, to which my family belongs and one in Brunswick as they have a teen program that my church does not. But with the roads being awful and the wind whipping the snow into blizzard conditions, I found a quiet perch to study this weeks Bible reading and ponder it's meaning. The Psalm for today (Psalm 91, 1-2, 9-16) says in part that because you have made the Lord God your refuge and the most High your habitation, that no evil will happen to you and no plague shall come near your dwelling. Well, if I stay put, that may just be the case. The winds blow around me, the gusts assault my home but I am safe. Better days are coming and I will be able to enjoy them if I hunker down today. I am thankful for so much and the ability to stay home on days like today and really enjoy myself are like jewels, cherished for what they are, both on their own and how my life is impacted by them. I have the love of family, the love of friends, the love of solitude when it suits me and the love of company when I need it. Right now however I have a need (and a little bit of a desire) to clean and reorganize my yarn stash. Just this morning I found I had purchased two counted cross stitch kits that I apparently forgot I had purchased and I felt a little like Christmas morning. Yeah ME!!!! I plan to spend some time spinning some fiber into yarn for a hat pattern that just screams out the name of a friend (who doesn't know that yarn "speaks" to those of us who love it and will be so happy to receive this gift!) and a new book that I've been waiting to start that today seems just the day to do so. So I will now go and rescue my wool yarn from my cat (AGAIN!!) and enjoy my day. Apparently for our male cat Blackjack, yarn screams too. I just wish he'd return it to the bin he snagged it out of when he's done playing with it. He probably feels (rightly so) that I could use the exercise it would give me, going all over my house gathering it up and unwinding it from our dining room table legs and chair legs. So here's to hoping everyone stays put, stays safe, until I write again. Blessings!
Sometimes I can't help but wonder if God uses these moments to reach us. I've have a very hectic 9 weeks with alot of running to and fro and late nights and early mornings. No rest, little rest and most definitely not enough rest. Now, I have the excuse to stop. We are commanded to have one day of rest and I spend that day in two churches, one in Bath, to which my family belongs and one in Brunswick as they have a teen program that my church does not. But with the roads being awful and the wind whipping the snow into blizzard conditions, I found a quiet perch to study this weeks Bible reading and ponder it's meaning. The Psalm for today (Psalm 91, 1-2, 9-16) says in part that because you have made the Lord God your refuge and the most High your habitation, that no evil will happen to you and no plague shall come near your dwelling. Well, if I stay put, that may just be the case. The winds blow around me, the gusts assault my home but I am safe. Better days are coming and I will be able to enjoy them if I hunker down today. I am thankful for so much and the ability to stay home on days like today and really enjoy myself are like jewels, cherished for what they are, both on their own and how my life is impacted by them. I have the love of family, the love of friends, the love of solitude when it suits me and the love of company when I need it. Right now however I have a need (and a little bit of a desire) to clean and reorganize my yarn stash. Just this morning I found I had purchased two counted cross stitch kits that I apparently forgot I had purchased and I felt a little like Christmas morning. Yeah ME!!!! I plan to spend some time spinning some fiber into yarn for a hat pattern that just screams out the name of a friend (who doesn't know that yarn "speaks" to those of us who love it and will be so happy to receive this gift!) and a new book that I've been waiting to start that today seems just the day to do so. So I will now go and rescue my wool yarn from my cat (AGAIN!!) and enjoy my day. Apparently for our male cat Blackjack, yarn screams too. I just wish he'd return it to the bin he snagged it out of when he's done playing with it. He probably feels (rightly so) that I could use the exercise it would give me, going all over my house gathering it up and unwinding it from our dining room table legs and chair legs. So here's to hoping everyone stays put, stays safe, until I write again. Blessings!
Subscribe to:
Posts (Atom)