Saturday, July 9, 2011

Mocha 4/1/1995-7/9/2011

How do you say goodbye to a friend? My Dad always told me that pets are wonderful. They give us unconditional love and support their entire lives. They are our friends, man's best friend. When the time comes, be a good friend to them, do not let them suffer. They deserve that and more.

Today, we got home from the girls' softball games and Mocha was not herself. She was wobbling all over, struggling to stand, staggering. She tried to follow me around when she could and I would just catch her nearly falling over. She was wide eyed and drooling. I just sat with her and stroked her. I knew in my heart, it was that time, but to actually have to make that decision was gut wrenching.

She licked me as if to say, it's okay. I knew her mind was still there, wanting to love us, but her body wasn't cooperating. Years of arthritis had taken their toll on her poor rear hips. I double dosed her with buffrin to make her more comfortable and it seemed to relieve some of her shakes.

Telling my kids that she was going to the hospital to see the doctor and would probably not come home was awful. William burst into tears. He didn't want her to go, he hugged her and said, he'd miss her. Quinn fell apart. Hayden and Lydia didn't really get what was going on.

We got a sitter and took her to the humane society.

They were wonderful. I just held her soft head in my hands and stroked her face and ears like she loved. She dozed off and into a peaceful passing.

I got Mocha a week or two after I graduated college. My Mom and little brother actually went to the APA to pick her up for me while I interviewed at Washington University for a position I didn't get. After that, she and I were constant companions. She let me hold her while I cried through boyfriends and breakups, let downs and disappointments. She slept in my bed with me until my husband took her spot. She let him into her heart as her master and then accepted four kids into her world without hesitation. She comforted me while my Dad was sick and let me cry into her fur night after night. She nudged me when I was sad to let me seek comfort in petting that soft head. She let me lay with her when my Dad passed, just sobbing.

Mocha has been the only constant for my entire adult life. From the beginnings to the ends. She was my best friend. I hope I was hers.

From the get go, she was special. I chose her when she instantly flopped on her back and started knawing on my overall snap. She would fall asleep as a pup in my lap, flat out on her back, spread eagle, completely relaxed. As she grew, she would greet me with such enthusiasm her rear end couldn't handle it and she would wag, wag, that tail until she practically fell over. We used to say she had perpetual puppy syndrome because she always acted like a pup.

The past four or five years, she really slowed down, but she was ever determined to clean up the scraps at dinner off the floor, beg mercilessly at the table (which I admit to letting her), and lay in the foyer to our home, guarding the castle.

I'll never have another dog like she was. There is simply no replacing the best dog in the world. God speed Mo, god bless, and find my Dad, he probably has popcorn (your favorite, and his), he'll take care of you ol' girl.

Monday, May 2, 2011

VENTING

There are many things that are hard about being a parent, but lately, I'm having trouble with the keep your mouth shut part. When you kid continuously comes home and tells you how her day was rough when three other girls told her she couldn't join their reading group and laughed, so she sat down alone -I just want to flippin' get on the horn to those kids' parents and scream. Of course, that is frowned upon.

So, when your kid says she's afraid of one of those kids because she might pummel her if she admits to liking someone that kid doesn't like -what do you say? I told her to be friends with that kid anyways and she said, she is, but she told this new friend in confidence that even though she might act like she doesn't like her in front of the other girls, secretly, she really likes her and is her friend, so it's not real. REALLY! I mean, my kid is having to be mean to someone else to avoid social ridicule.

I told my kid that I would talk to the parents of these other kids and she said, "Why? They will just lie to their parents like they lie to the teacher." She also said, "I'll be the one who pays for that!" It's sad that she has it figured out. She also has figured out that when the school counselor comes in to class and says, "this school is 95% bully free, we need to work on the other 5%" that someone has failed to report most of the bullying that goes on in class right under the teacher's nose. She even says, if they think we're that bully free, they aren't paying attention.

Having been a parent to a bullied kid this year, it is the hardest thing to watch and feel so helpless. You try to give them pointers and things to say or ways to befriend these kids who have commandeered the social network with such power, all to no avail. It makes me mad. I preach over and over be kind to your neighbor, turn the other cheek, rise above it all, ignore them, be a good person no matter what and for what purpose!? I finally had it recently and told her to tell them when they get on her nerves or exclude her, "bite me!". I gave her permission to actually say that in my anger!

I know my kid is not innocent. I realize she needs a tougher skin and I understand that she's not perfect in any which way, but she doesn't deserve the treatment she's received.

It's become so ego crushing for her and self esteem crushing that we are actually seeking counseling to give her some tools to deal with these girls. I can tell you summer vacation cannot come quick enough.

It makes me sad mostly because she's come to accept her "position" and accept these kids' behavior as something that can't be challenged or fixed because somehow this is the social order of things and that's just how it is. It's wrong.

Like I said, I'm not there everyday at school and I get that the teacher is kind of done in this year with all the drama, but nobody likes to hear their kid is left out or alienated, ignored, or belittled. I think that the end result will be my kid learns to choose her friends more wisely and learns the hard way what qualities are more important in a person - popularity, athleticism, and defiance never win out over truth, kindness and selflessness.

So, there ya go - I don't feel any better and I'm gonna call that counselor tomorrow so the damage done this year doesn't perpetuate into the future with other problems, but really? Can't we all just get along?

Wednesday, April 13, 2011

AHHA Moments

So...years ago when Quinn was a baby, I had friends who would tell me that they couldn't get anything done during the day and had to clean the house at midnight. At the time, I just didn't get it. I thought, "Really? I manage to get my work done and still function during daylight hours, why can't you? You must be doing something wrong."

Well.....I get it now. Between all the running around I do with the kids and just your regular run of the mill errands, I fail to even get breakfast dishes done before dinner and beds made before school's out (and then what's the point, they'll be back in them in a matter of hours!). I barely get laundry done these days and whereas I used to pride myself on managing to keep the play room neat, nowadays, I am lucky to shove all of its contents back into the space they belong and putting them away is a thing of the past. Why? Well, I have three year olds. Not only that, but three year olds who don't nap make for double the amount of trouble and mischief.

Now that the weather is nice, they want to be outside all the time. I love that, but I can't be out there all the time with them and still try to accomplish something inside. So, I crack the door open to hear them, stay on the main floor for my chores (which is why beds never get made) and constantly yell out the door and step on the deck saying, "You guys okay out there?" On top of that, I send up a little prayer that no bones are broken while I'm not being super vigilant and that they come back in one piece, well two pieces - one Hayden and one William.

Don't get me wrong. I am complaining, but I do love it. I love this time in my life and I know that I will miss it like I miss the baby stage. I barely remember them trying to walk, crawl, or talk. It's a blur. But, the down side to this time is that the only time during the day I can actually do something and have it stay the way I left it for more than five minutes is after they go to bed. So, whereas once upon a time, I was not cleaning at midnight, now I am. The other downside is I'm freakin' tired! Off to read, put them to bed, say prayers, kisses goodnight and then on to the daily chores (i.e. laundry, dishes, vacuuming, dusting, straightening). But before that, an injury just occurred, so gotta go kiss a boo boo first. This is the life. Wanna trade? (just kidding!)

Tuesday, April 12, 2011

It's a vicious cycle....

Well, giving up FB was actually easier than I expected. I do miss seeing what's going on sometimes but my whole purpose in giving it up was to actually reclaim all the time I spent on it and be more productive. Has that worked? Nope. Now, instead of stalking FB updates, I stalk my email IN box. I am going to get carpel tunnel as often as I flick my wrist on my mouse to hit "send/receive". I almost feel dejected when an email doesn't pop up to respond to. Oh well, from one vice to another.

Spring and Fall are my favorite times of year for weather, but my least favorite for one other activity that is simply the activity from "hell". I hate switching clothes out of the kids' closets. It's a complete nuisance. Between all four, I just filled 9 laundry baskets and have a stack of hanging items. Now, I have to drag all of that to the basement, resort (or file) every item in the correct box and make sure it's labelled properly (i.e. 4T Winter, 10-12 Winter, 6-6x Winter). Then I need to pull out those pieces that are either never going to be worn again because I don't like it anymore, are so worn they aren't worth wearing, or have finally trickled down through neices and my girls to the point past Hayden where they are garage sale worthy. But, that's only half the job.

From this point, I should have 9 empty laundry baskets. The good thing about this part is that for the most part William doesn't have anything for the next season and neither does Quinn. Being the oldest and only boy, they get new wardrobe pieces all the time. Lucky ducks. There are a handful of things that Quinn needs to try on though (i.e. PJs, dresses) and see if we can get another year out of them. That leaves sorting through Lydia and Hayden's boxes. It is actually kind of fun to see some of the dresses and summer wear that Quinn wore and remember it going through the kids and now into Hayden's closet, but for the most part, still a chore.

Okay, that's good to a point, but I haven't tackled swim wear and shoes. Every year sorting through summer shoes and dress shoes is an ordeal. Again, Will has nothing, but the younger two have a Payless Store in the basement of footwear to try on. Swimwear takes no time, but it still takes time to see what lycra has given out and what sizes we have to work with and then decide who needs what purchased.

Finally, after much procrastination and a good couple days, I will have dragged all those baskets back upstairs and started re-filing clothes into closets. There is a sense of accomplishment when all this is done until I remember, oh yeah - I have to do my closet too! It's a vicious cycle.

Friday, March 11, 2011

Post one, post faceboook

I'm a couple days out without facebook and truthfully - I miss it, but it's not as big of a deal as I thought it might be. Now, I gave up soda as well and that one - I'm about to knaw my arm off for a diet coke. I'm sorry, but crystal light lemonade, rasberry lemonade, orange drink and pomegranate lemonade is just not the same as a diet caffeine free coke.

Tuesday, March 1, 2011

Givin' it up

So, I've come to the realization that I have an addiction. I'm working on weaning myself off, but it is hard. I am less productive because of it and I'm definitely excited by it. My husband jokes that I have a boyfriend. Yes, people, it's Facebook and my email.

I just saw a news report on this phenom and it's frightening how much time people spend social networking. My phone is silent at home because my friends email me. My mailbox is pretty empty (except for advertising) because no one writes letters anymore. It's pretty sad, really.

What to do?

Well, I'm contemplating a separation period. Email is a necessity due to school activities and what not, but Facebook is definitely not a do or die thing. I think for Lent, one of my sacrifices, will be to give it up completely. 40 days of peace - not waiting for a response to a witty post or writing a response to someone else's post. It sounds pretty good, really.

I will be connecting on email still - but I won't be responding to facebook email/messages. So, we'll see if I get the shakes, have withdrawals, take up a new addiction - like texting. I don't really do that right now. I think I've sent 6 texts my entire life.

We'll see! Should be interesting. I thought to myself, though, if I spent as much time praying as I do on Facebook, I'd be spending my time much more wisely.

Monday, February 14, 2011

Dryer Woes

So, a day without laundry in this house is like a day without sun. It just never happens unless your dryer dies on you? Then all laundry comes to a swift halt. As nice as it has been to be laundriless for a day, the piles are starting to crawl out of their baskets and onto the laundry room floor - as my baskets overfloweth. Granted, they were starting to get that way yesterday which was why I was trying to do laundry when the dryer died. It must have looked at the work to be done and keeled over. Chicken, I say, coward!

So, we're getting a new dryer at some point this week. Now begins the research, the debating, the price checking, the hemming and hawing over which one to get. Me, I want BIG and I would like the door to drop down, not swing out. I'll probably have to settle for a little larger than what I have and a door that swings side to side.

Oh well! C'est la vie.

I hope you are having a great Valentine's Day. I had an epiphany yesterday thinking about a woman I knew on a casual basis who passed away two days ago. She was a grandma to a friend of Quinn's and when the two of them were in preschool together this lady would help me haul the twins and Lydia into and out of school on occassion. Those few minutes of her time have still hung with me. She made a difference for me in that moment.

I realized that life isn't about how many achievements we have, or how many books we've written, awards we have won, or even organizations we belong too, it's about throwing yourself in the pond of life and watching the ripples go out as far as they can. The higher you jump from, the more ripples you make, so if you take a few risks (going higher), you'll make a bigger impact on those little ripples. This analogy is pretty cliche, I realize that. But my ephiphany was that when I go, I want my ripples to go far and wide. I want my legacy to be that I helped someone drag three little ones into a preschool or that I held a door for someone when they had their hands full. Service. It's about putting someone else first (which I always knew). It's about making each groove in the pond of ripples count.

So, I challenge you, jump from a great height into that pond and those moments you are underwater, holding your breath, look around, hear the silence, then kick with your feet and burst through the surface letting shards of water break the congruity of those ripples. That's the spice of life. Nothing is perfect, but dang, make it fun and make it count. What's the point if we don't?

Happy Hearts Day People!

XOXOXOXOXO

Wednesday, January 26, 2011

First off, belated Happy New Year.

Here's the scoop.

The kids haven't had a full week of school since mid-December due to snow days and vacation. We're really pulling for a full five days of class this week. Because of this, I feel like I live in a time warp. I'm not sure what day it is half the time and my routine has been compromised (which as we all know, my life is dictated by).

In my head, snow days are so Norman Rockwell. We get up, I make a great breakfast, we gear up and sled, music is playing in the trees, the birds are singing, we come in to a planned crafty activity that will certainly create lasting memories of bliss filled snow days. Then we hunker down by a cozy fire and read poetry, play music, and settle into our respective quiet pasttimes (cross stitch, a card game, knitting). In the end the kids climb the stairs sayin, "night ma, night pa" like Little House on the Prairie. (Of course, I'm exaggerating).

Instead, a REAL snow day is, everyone is up early, except me who thinks "where do we have to rush to, let's stay in our cozy beds". Next the kids shove down a bowl of cocoa puffs and start begging, "can we go outside?" until I cave in about 10:00 am. In the meantime, though, they've already spilled two cups of milk, destroyed the living room and playroom, colored, painted, watched TV, and had two or three arguments. So, after I cave in, we get geared up. 45 minutes later we are ready to go outside. 10 minutes later we're back in and they announce that they are indeed, "bored".

Lunchtime rolls around and nobody is happy with what I have on hand (which, albeit, is usually not that much), so they complain until I practically throw the jar of peanut butter at their heads. Finally, naptime for the twins. 1:00pm. Of course, that is hit or miss and lately, more miss. They run between their rooms, play, jump around, laugh (not too much napping happening there) until one may crash out. If I'm lucky, they both fall asleep. Then I tell the older two to read in their room and play quietly. For about 20 minutes, I can quickly reassemble the house and think, "what is for dinner?". Soooner than later, someone is again, "bored" and/or just picked on someone else and we are back to "you're grounded, you're in time out, you'd better go upstairs or I will scream".

Finally, the dinner hour arrives. We muddle through, pray it's not a bath night, and hope Carl can get home from work at a decent time because when he walks in, I say, "tag, you're it!".

That's pretty much what has been going on around here. How bout you? Been busy?