So, last week, right? What a rush. How crazy was that? :)
Hubby showed up super late Tuesday night. Woke up the kids Wednesday morning. Had a birthday Thursday, got a call for a job interview. Got the job Friday. Started yesterday.
Not bad.
But it does mean I'm home alone again during the day. Not all the time. His new job has a weird schedule, where he's off various days and working other days. I still haven't figured it out, but the days he's home one week aren't going to be the days he's home the next week. At least the sleep schedule is the same, right?
What it does mean, for me, is that I need to take full advantage of the time alone that I DO have to get that all-important writing done. Because on the days he's home I don't get any writing done. It's an established fact. We'll just go with it. Some day next year (probably) I'll have an actual office, but, until then, I have to work at actually being productive when I'm alone and--most importantly--NOT going back to bed after everyone leaves in the mornings. :)
Wednesday, October 26, 2011
Wednesday, October 19, 2011
I'm SO Glad when Daddy Comes Home!
I'm not going to spend a lot of time here--haven't seen the hubby in 6 weeks, people--but I did want to say how awesome it was this morning when he went in to each kid's rooms and woke them up for school. The reactions were pure joy and utterly priceless. It was better than when we surprised them with a trip to Disneyland. Loved it.
Also, with him coming home earlier than we'd initially thought, I scrambled to get my BofM reading done, and finished Monday. Awesome. I'm starting over. It has helped me so much!
Have a fantastic day. I'm going to.
Also, with him coming home earlier than we'd initially thought, I scrambled to get my BofM reading done, and finished Monday. Awesome. I'm starting over. It has helped me so much!
Have a fantastic day. I'm going to.
Wednesday, October 12, 2011
Being the Best Me
There have been a lot of personal affirmations floating around Facebook. Some are pretty good, and I like to pass those along. Others are trite, obvious or downright stupid. But everyone is different, and just because I don't like one doesn't mean it's not doing someone some good.
Just to keep you updated, today I start Alma. I've read 8 books in the B of M in the last week. Alma is where I always bog down, but if I read about 50 pages a day I'll be done by the end of the week. I knew it would help me, but I didn't realize all the ways it would help.
For one, I'm more patient. I don't get as frustrated as QUICKLY when the kids are acting up, bickering or being sassy.
Two, my vision is so much clearer. I'm not talking about my physical vision. When I look at my daughter, the one who's caused me so much angst over the last several weeks, I see the Daughter of God she is and not the stubborn, willful child. Being able to see her true worth has made me so much better for her.
It's been a really rough couple of months, but it's almost over. Bryan is coming HOME and will be here Wednesday, so I'm stepping up my goal. I'm going to finish the B of M before he gets here. Shouldn't be that hard. After Alma, which will be done this week, there are only 6 books left, and a couple of them are super short. I know reading scripture like I read novels isn't getting me all the book has to offer, but it's brought a marked improvement to my life.
And, when I'm done, I can just start over again. :)
Just to keep you updated, today I start Alma. I've read 8 books in the B of M in the last week. Alma is where I always bog down, but if I read about 50 pages a day I'll be done by the end of the week. I knew it would help me, but I didn't realize all the ways it would help.
For one, I'm more patient. I don't get as frustrated as QUICKLY when the kids are acting up, bickering or being sassy.
Two, my vision is so much clearer. I'm not talking about my physical vision. When I look at my daughter, the one who's caused me so much angst over the last several weeks, I see the Daughter of God she is and not the stubborn, willful child. Being able to see her true worth has made me so much better for her.
It's been a really rough couple of months, but it's almost over. Bryan is coming HOME and will be here Wednesday, so I'm stepping up my goal. I'm going to finish the B of M before he gets here. Shouldn't be that hard. After Alma, which will be done this week, there are only 6 books left, and a couple of them are super short. I know reading scripture like I read novels isn't getting me all the book has to offer, but it's brought a marked improvement to my life.
And, when I'm done, I can just start over again. :)
Wednesday, October 5, 2011
In the Trenches
There are some days I can't believe I signed up for this. Being a mom is hard.
Yesterday was one of those days. I cried off and on all day. I couldn't write. Finally, that afternoon I sat down and read an entire section of The Book of Mormon. Did you know 1st Nephi is 53 pages long? You do now. I finished the last three chapters in Moroni and just flipped back to the beginning.
The Book of Mormon shall be your textbook. That's from my Patriarchal Blessing. Yesterday was a day I really needed it.
You know those movies, particularly old WWII movies, where the kid too young to enlist fakes his age and signs up anyway? You know, deep in the trenches in the middle of a firefight, at some point this kid has to be thinking, "I can't believe I signed up for this!"
Yes, I'm likening motherhood to WWII. Because some days there are victories and glory, but most days it's just trench warfare. And marching. Lots of tedious, repetitive marching. (For me, "marching" is the repetitive chores like dishes, laundry, grocery shopping, getting kids to do homework, etc)
You don't have to agree with me. It's okay. I won't be offended.
I have a new goal, though. I'm going to read The Book of Mormon in October. Because I need it.
See you on the other side. Maybe next week I'll have a "victory" day.
Yesterday was one of those days. I cried off and on all day. I couldn't write. Finally, that afternoon I sat down and read an entire section of The Book of Mormon. Did you know 1st Nephi is 53 pages long? You do now. I finished the last three chapters in Moroni and just flipped back to the beginning.
The Book of Mormon shall be your textbook. That's from my Patriarchal Blessing. Yesterday was a day I really needed it.
You know those movies, particularly old WWII movies, where the kid too young to enlist fakes his age and signs up anyway? You know, deep in the trenches in the middle of a firefight, at some point this kid has to be thinking, "I can't believe I signed up for this!"
Yes, I'm likening motherhood to WWII. Because some days there are victories and glory, but most days it's just trench warfare. And marching. Lots of tedious, repetitive marching. (For me, "marching" is the repetitive chores like dishes, laundry, grocery shopping, getting kids to do homework, etc)
You don't have to agree with me. It's okay. I won't be offended.
I have a new goal, though. I'm going to read The Book of Mormon in October. Because I need it.
See you on the other side. Maybe next week I'll have a "victory" day.
Wednesday, September 28, 2011
It's Important
About ten days or so ago I decided I wanted to unpack all my wall pictures. Most had been packed for over a year and a half since we lost our house. As I pulled out picture after picture of my kids and nieces and nephews at varying stages of development, I quickly caught on to the theme.
My family.
This is what really matters to me. The truly important things are brought into sharp focus at different times of our lives. Say a house fire. Or even the less traumatic cross country move. In a fire, you're only concerned that everyone is safe. With a cross country move, you whittle down your belongings to the most important.
I've had this picture for decades. It's rather large, and difficult to pack, and has no glass to protect it. Rather than packing it this time, my son took a picture of it--an improvement, to my estimation--and plan to get an enlarged print to frame down the road.
When he took the picture, he didn't notice the clouds reflected on the plastic, which to me makes the picture. Don't you agree?
My family.
This is what really matters to me. The truly important things are brought into sharp focus at different times of our lives. Say a house fire. Or even the less traumatic cross country move. In a fire, you're only concerned that everyone is safe. With a cross country move, you whittle down your belongings to the most important.
I've had this picture for decades. It's rather large, and difficult to pack, and has no glass to protect it. Rather than packing it this time, my son took a picture of it--an improvement, to my estimation--and plan to get an enlarged print to frame down the road.
When he took the picture, he didn't notice the clouds reflected on the plastic, which to me makes the picture. Don't you agree?
Wednesday, September 21, 2011
Reconsidered
I had a whole post all set to go about my stubborn daughter and how she purposely threw a test she didn't want to take, but I decided you all really don't need to listen to me rant about someone I love so much. You get it--if I didn't love her I wouldn't care and get so bent out of shape. You're smart.
I really miss Bryan. Parents work best in teams. And this isn't just my opinion, I do have some facts to support it. Remember, I grew up in a single parent household. And, in different stages of my kids' development, Bryan has had jobs where he's gone large chunks of time. Most of that was driving trucks, but he has spent months at a time at different airports on assignment with TSA.
And each time I've noticed a distinct shift in my kids' behavior.
When they were little, they were simply more unruly. Less quick to obey, more willing to get into trouble. Stressed, I guess you'd say. And it's harder when we're broke and I don't have ways to distract them. I don't mean going to the movies every night, but with gas prices as they are I can't even justify going for a nice drive out to the lake.
As they've gotten older, and Bryan's been away less and less, their angst manifests itself in physical ways. Primarily, little arguments get blown WAY out of proportion and escalate into stupid fights. The boys are really bad about this right now. It's all the hormone fluctuations and the testosterone. Two Saturdays running, I've woken up to fighting. And, with the oldest, he will keep repeating himself until you acknowledge him--even if he has to be louder and angrier each time.
In short, I'm done with this stupid separation and I'm more than ready for his transfer to come through.
That's not to say life is perfect because Daddy's home. The kids still bicker and such, and chores get neglected, etc., but--and this is what I don't understand--the kids seem to respect me more when Bryan's around than when he's gone. I'm still me. I'm here the same as always. But I don't get the same level of recognition and respect when he's away. Weird, huh? I'm sure it has something to do with the little changes I experience having him away. I'm different, so they treat me different. Sometimes I feel like a psychiatric study in progress.
And I'm tired of being experimented on.
I really miss Bryan. Parents work best in teams. And this isn't just my opinion, I do have some facts to support it. Remember, I grew up in a single parent household. And, in different stages of my kids' development, Bryan has had jobs where he's gone large chunks of time. Most of that was driving trucks, but he has spent months at a time at different airports on assignment with TSA.
And each time I've noticed a distinct shift in my kids' behavior.
When they were little, they were simply more unruly. Less quick to obey, more willing to get into trouble. Stressed, I guess you'd say. And it's harder when we're broke and I don't have ways to distract them. I don't mean going to the movies every night, but with gas prices as they are I can't even justify going for a nice drive out to the lake.
As they've gotten older, and Bryan's been away less and less, their angst manifests itself in physical ways. Primarily, little arguments get blown WAY out of proportion and escalate into stupid fights. The boys are really bad about this right now. It's all the hormone fluctuations and the testosterone. Two Saturdays running, I've woken up to fighting. And, with the oldest, he will keep repeating himself until you acknowledge him--even if he has to be louder and angrier each time.
In short, I'm done with this stupid separation and I'm more than ready for his transfer to come through.
That's not to say life is perfect because Daddy's home. The kids still bicker and such, and chores get neglected, etc., but--and this is what I don't understand--the kids seem to respect me more when Bryan's around than when he's gone. I'm still me. I'm here the same as always. But I don't get the same level of recognition and respect when he's away. Weird, huh? I'm sure it has something to do with the little changes I experience having him away. I'm different, so they treat me different. Sometimes I feel like a psychiatric study in progress.
And I'm tired of being experimented on.
Friday, September 16, 2011
We're Never Done
I learned something amazing about my son yesterday. 
He. Is. Incredible.
To be fair, I thought I knew that already. Really. This kid has survived 2 near-death experiences, he's zany, tender, and can draw like no other kid you've ever seen. He's just as incredible as my other kids, who are all incredible in their own ways.
But this kid showed me something. He showed me the depth of his heart. And it rocked me to my core.
This is how my journal would read, if I kept a journal:
He entered her hospital room, and nothing in the world mattered except her. He sat down next to her bed, took her hands, and asked her how she was doing. Then he asked her how she was feeling, which are two different things. He held her hands the whole time. Talked about his day. Talked about school. Told some stories. LISTENED to her stories. They laughed together, and they also sat in silence. I had to end it, because I have 4 other kids to tend to--but I promise you I wish I could have left him there a couple hours more. I witnessed something miraculous: A 12 yr old boy's love for his grandmother.
I take no credit for this child. He is the personification of the love Heavenly Father and Jesus has for each one of us. He is an angel walking among us, masquerading as a lively--and occasionally irritating--preteen boy. His capacity for love and compassion are astonishing.
This is the boy the school wants to evaluate and test to see if they can find something "wrong" with. I promise you I will not let him be labeled. I will protect his heart with everything I have. He sees the world differently, but that does NOT make him wrong.
He. Is. Incredible.
To be fair, I thought I knew that already. Really. This kid has survived 2 near-death experiences, he's zany, tender, and can draw like no other kid you've ever seen. He's just as incredible as my other kids, who are all incredible in their own ways.
But this kid showed me something. He showed me the depth of his heart. And it rocked me to my core.
This is how my journal would read, if I kept a journal:
He entered her hospital room, and nothing in the world mattered except her. He sat down next to her bed, took her hands, and asked her how she was doing. Then he asked her how she was feeling, which are two different things. He held her hands the whole time. Talked about his day. Talked about school. Told some stories. LISTENED to her stories. They laughed together, and they also sat in silence. I had to end it, because I have 4 other kids to tend to--but I promise you I wish I could have left him there a couple hours more. I witnessed something miraculous: A 12 yr old boy's love for his grandmother.
I take no credit for this child. He is the personification of the love Heavenly Father and Jesus has for each one of us. He is an angel walking among us, masquerading as a lively--and occasionally irritating--preteen boy. His capacity for love and compassion are astonishing.
This is the boy the school wants to evaluate and test to see if they can find something "wrong" with. I promise you I will not let him be labeled. I will protect his heart with everything I have. He sees the world differently, but that does NOT make him wrong.
Subscribe to:
Posts (Atom)