Tim took the day off today. I had our whole day planned with fun things to do and then it had to snow, and snow. No school today. The kids are thrilled of course and are bouncing off the walls. It's ok. I can be flexible. At least that is what I keep telling myself. The good news is Tim will be home to shovel the driveway and play outside with the kids which means I don't have to go outside if I don't want to. It's a good reminder of what men are good for.
The other night I had a revelation concerning men in general. I realized that the things that are important to men could be compiled into a simple list. So the list is as follows (in Dave Letterman order):
10. Sex
9. Sex
8. Sex
7. Sex
6. Sex
5. Condiments
4. Sex
3. Sex
2. Sex
1. Sex
I don't think I need to explain MOST of the list. As far as No. 5 goes I know there are always at LEAST five condiments on our dinner table every night, mostly consumed by Tim and Isaac, ketchup being numero uno. Isaac always asks if there is another "tank" of ketchup because the current "tank" is half gone. I think the word "tank" speaks for itself.
I told Tim about my revelation and that I had the male gender all figured out. He asked if there would be a picture included with my blog. Since I like to keep this site somewhat G-rated, or at least PG-13 I opted for a youtube video rather than a drawing. I think it speaks volumes.
Wednesday, January 28, 2009
Tuesday, January 27, 2009
Nice Pants
I saw that robin again today. When I got home from my subbing gig (that will be a blog for another day) in the sleeting/freezing rain/snow muck that was falling out of the sky, the robin was sitting in a tree in my front yard chirping at me. I swear it was talking to me. You know what this means? I hear insane robins who don't have enough sense to fly south for the winter. Again, better than seeing dead people, not sure where that ranks against dust smelling.
So it's late but I had to get this latest picture posted because I know there are, maybe, tens of you, (or ok, maybe three of you) who are eagerly awaiting this. Maybe eager is too strong of a word. And yes it's only 9pm but in the mid west it's been dark for 3 hours so that's equivalent to 1am in the summertime.
This picture is a little different. I had to really consider the best way to translate the entire psycho, nazi leg workout that the psycho, nazi instructor referred to as biometrics. So I really think I've honed all of my artistic skills into a new representation of myself as never before witnessed on this here blog. (Or anywhere else for that matter.) And in case this worries you let me just tell you to stop right there, I'm already planning a deep hair conditioning treatment for tomorrow.
So it's late but I had to get this latest picture posted because I know there are, maybe, tens of you, (or ok, maybe three of you) who are eagerly awaiting this. Maybe eager is too strong of a word. And yes it's only 9pm but in the mid west it's been dark for 3 hours so that's equivalent to 1am in the summertime.
This picture is a little different. I had to really consider the best way to translate the entire psycho, nazi leg workout that the psycho, nazi instructor referred to as biometrics. So I really think I've honed all of my artistic skills into a new representation of myself as never before witnessed on this here blog. (Or anywhere else for that matter.) And in case this worries you let me just tell you to stop right there, I'm already planning a deep hair conditioning treatment for tomorrow.
Monday, January 26, 2009
She's Mighty, Mighty
Spring is just around the corner. I've been seeing Robins in my front yard. And no, this is not like seeing dead people or even smelling dust. Look, I have a picture to prove it...
Ok, so it's hard to tell it's a Robin but it is I swear. Mr. Robin wasn't very cooperative for this picture which was taken through a screened window and then my flash went off. As far as photographs go this bites but it's still a Robin. And you know what that means. (You do, don't question yourself) it means spring is just around the corner. Sure there's snow on the way tonight and tomorrow night for most of the midwest but Mr. Robin doesn't care. Or maybe he's a rogue, rabid robin. I still think it's a sign. I'm planning my garden...
I worked out again with the psycho nazi workout lady (God love her). I can't really feel anything yet - as in I'm not sure I'm walking because I can't feel my legs. That's a bad sign but it's going to make for a good drawing tomorrow.
Yes, you're going to have to wait for the drawing because 1) I already gave you this really bad picture of a robin that you can't tell is a robin and 2) IT'S MAGICAL MUSICALLY MESSED UP MONDAY. You can't have it all in one day.
So here's my pick today. In honor of my workout - someday I might just live up to this song if I continue to go to this class and maybe have a few elective surgeries.
After listening to the lyrics I've determined this is probably the most sexist song of the 20th century. Enjoy!
Ok, so it's hard to tell it's a Robin but it is I swear. Mr. Robin wasn't very cooperative for this picture which was taken through a screened window and then my flash went off. As far as photographs go this bites but it's still a Robin. And you know what that means. (You do, don't question yourself) it means spring is just around the corner. Sure there's snow on the way tonight and tomorrow night for most of the midwest but Mr. Robin doesn't care. Or maybe he's a rogue, rabid robin. I still think it's a sign. I'm planning my garden...I worked out again with the psycho nazi workout lady (God love her). I can't really feel anything yet - as in I'm not sure I'm walking because I can't feel my legs. That's a bad sign but it's going to make for a good drawing tomorrow.
Yes, you're going to have to wait for the drawing because 1) I already gave you this really bad picture of a robin that you can't tell is a robin and 2) IT'S MAGICAL MUSICALLY MESSED UP MONDAY. You can't have it all in one day.
So here's my pick today. In honor of my workout - someday I might just live up to this song if I continue to go to this class and maybe have a few elective surgeries.
After listening to the lyrics I've determined this is probably the most sexist song of the 20th century. Enjoy!
Wednesday, January 21, 2009
Pump Me UP
I have SAD. That's Seasonal Affective Disorder. I almost typed Seasonal Defective Disorder but realized that didn't work. Although I am defective as well. I probably didn't need to tell you that.
For those people that are lucky enough to live somewhere consistently sunny, you are probably not aware of SAD. It's the winter blues caused most likely but a lack of sunlight. If you want more information than you ever wanted to know about it check out Wikipedia.
I've come up with another acronym that might work for me as well: MAD - Motherhood Affective Disorder. MAD happens when your mothering abilities are affected by the incomprehensible behavior of your children. Like, say, your middle child says "that's not fair" for the 543,678 time because Malea and Sasha Obama get to have a sleepover and watch High School Musical 3 at home before anyone else can because they are the President's daughters. It also happens when your husband leaves town for more than 3 days. Guess who's out of town?
But I'm dealing, I'm coping. I would put my hands in the yoga namaste pose right now and take a deep breath but it's really difficult to type that way.
This morning I ventured out of my box a little bit. I decided I need to push myself to try different things or go for hour long walks in the bitter cold with my dog to battle SAD (and MAD). So I'm stepping out of my box and leaving the long johns in the drawer. I went to a free workout class at the YMCA called Strength and Endurance. Now, the free classes at the Y are for any member who wants to attend, generally at a beginning level. Well, this instructor stated right off that this was an ADVANCED class. Having seen this person around the "Y" I knew she wasn't kidding. Three were over 40 people in this class and I looked around at the others wondering how obvious it would be if I just picked up my mat, my weights, my ball and my stretchy rubber thingy and left. Well let's just say I stayed.
I'm glad I stayed. It was a challenge. So much so that the people around me were so focused they probably didn't notice me falling off the exercise ball and faking some of the exercises. It was nutso. I'd like to say that this instructor person is a psycho workout nazi. God love her. I tried to smile and not give her dirty looks.
But I think I'll go back next week because I need this. I need achy muscles so I feel like I'm making headway and I need a good challenge and this is a good challenge. I need to step into something I'm not comfortable with and make a fool out of myself. This should work just fine.
Check out my biceps...
For those people that are lucky enough to live somewhere consistently sunny, you are probably not aware of SAD. It's the winter blues caused most likely but a lack of sunlight. If you want more information than you ever wanted to know about it check out Wikipedia.
I've come up with another acronym that might work for me as well: MAD - Motherhood Affective Disorder. MAD happens when your mothering abilities are affected by the incomprehensible behavior of your children. Like, say, your middle child says "that's not fair" for the 543,678 time because Malea and Sasha Obama get to have a sleepover and watch High School Musical 3 at home before anyone else can because they are the President's daughters. It also happens when your husband leaves town for more than 3 days. Guess who's out of town?
But I'm dealing, I'm coping. I would put my hands in the yoga namaste pose right now and take a deep breath but it's really difficult to type that way.
This morning I ventured out of my box a little bit. I decided I need to push myself to try different things or go for hour long walks in the bitter cold with my dog to battle SAD (and MAD). So I'm stepping out of my box and leaving the long johns in the drawer. I went to a free workout class at the YMCA called Strength and Endurance. Now, the free classes at the Y are for any member who wants to attend, generally at a beginning level. Well, this instructor stated right off that this was an ADVANCED class. Having seen this person around the "Y" I knew she wasn't kidding. Three were over 40 people in this class and I looked around at the others wondering how obvious it would be if I just picked up my mat, my weights, my ball and my stretchy rubber thingy and left. Well let's just say I stayed.
I'm glad I stayed. It was a challenge. So much so that the people around me were so focused they probably didn't notice me falling off the exercise ball and faking some of the exercises. It was nutso. I'd like to say that this instructor person is a psycho workout nazi. God love her. I tried to smile and not give her dirty looks.
But I think I'll go back next week because I need this. I need achy muscles so I feel like I'm making headway and I need a good challenge and this is a good challenge. I need to step into something I'm not comfortable with and make a fool out of myself. This should work just fine.
Check out my biceps...
Monday, January 19, 2009
Dusted
My mom says she can smell dust. I tried not to look at her like she had three heads when she told me this on Sunday but my poker face is not great so the best I could do was look at her like she had two heads. Two heads are better than three. And I snickered and scoffed a little bit. (So I'm not an actress.) She asked me if I could smell dust. I told her if I could smell dust then that must be all I ever smell. Does air smell like dust? Does the entire world smell like dust? That's what my house smells like. I don't know what dust smells like.
There are a couple possible reasons why my mom could smell dust, or actually there are three. The first would be that she's got a good nose, a really good nose. I'm quite certain of this because I have a good nose as well. Some people have good ears and can hear really well, others have good eyes. In my family we rely on our olfactory sense for important things like, say, dust smelling.
The second reason would be that she's kind of a clean freak. And when I say "freak" mom I mean it in the best possible way. Really. When I'm at her house I hope that some of that clean will rub off on me and follow me home. Doesn't happen. And with just her and my dad at home her house is pretty stinkin' tidy. Could it be that she's actually developed a finely tuned nose? She has so entirely alleviated her environment of dust that when it settles in she can actually SMELL IT? Or could it be that I need to sit down with her and have a little "chat", maybe with a professional present, about what people can and can't "smell".
The third reason is that she is recently retired (a year ago) and a self proclaimed busy body. Being the dead of winter when she can't get outside and garden and work in her yard, there are going to be moments when she's not busy. She doesn't just sit down and relax often and now that she is - guess what? She's "smelling dust." But like Tim says, at least she doesn't see dead people. If she tells me the dust bunnies are trying to converse with her then I'll know it's time to intervene.
So I'm not sure what the answer is and if I should worry about her (it's probably all of the above) but I do know that it is indeed "Magical, Musical and Maniacal (because my kids are home) Monday so in honor of my mother (while she's still lucid) this one is for her. Enjoy.
There are a couple possible reasons why my mom could smell dust, or actually there are three. The first would be that she's got a good nose, a really good nose. I'm quite certain of this because I have a good nose as well. Some people have good ears and can hear really well, others have good eyes. In my family we rely on our olfactory sense for important things like, say, dust smelling.
The second reason would be that she's kind of a clean freak. And when I say "freak" mom I mean it in the best possible way. Really. When I'm at her house I hope that some of that clean will rub off on me and follow me home. Doesn't happen. And with just her and my dad at home her house is pretty stinkin' tidy. Could it be that she's actually developed a finely tuned nose? She has so entirely alleviated her environment of dust that when it settles in she can actually SMELL IT? Or could it be that I need to sit down with her and have a little "chat", maybe with a professional present, about what people can and can't "smell".
The third reason is that she is recently retired (a year ago) and a self proclaimed busy body. Being the dead of winter when she can't get outside and garden and work in her yard, there are going to be moments when she's not busy. She doesn't just sit down and relax often and now that she is - guess what? She's "smelling dust." But like Tim says, at least she doesn't see dead people. If she tells me the dust bunnies are trying to converse with her then I'll know it's time to intervene.
So I'm not sure what the answer is and if I should worry about her (it's probably all of the above) but I do know that it is indeed "Magical, Musical and Maniacal (because my kids are home) Monday so in honor of my mother (while she's still lucid) this one is for her. Enjoy.
Friday, January 16, 2009
Dear God It's Friday
In accordance with my New Year's resolution to pray more I thought I would make Fridays an official day of prayer. I think since today is the coldest day in two years it's a good time to start. But first I'm going to start with a few things I'm thankful for:
1. Hair color (Natural Match by Loreal in Dark Brown to be specific.)
2. And while we are on toiletries...Chapstick and lotion (not necessarily in that order)
3. Hot water
4. Good socks
5. A warm house
6. Long underwear (it's like 15 years old but it still does the job.)
7. My mom (Who is meeting me for lunch today in the frigid cold.)
And now a little prayer. I'm a little rusty in this department so God let me just ask for your forgiveness up front. Thanks.
Dear God,
I'd like to start off by taking a moment to thank you for all those warm summer days I took for granted. Thanks they were great. In case things get boring up there and you want to, you know, mix it up a little bit and throw in a 70 degree day towards the end of January. That'd be great. Just a thought.
As always please guide and protect my children. Please help me in providing the things they need to grow and be happy which includes providing Isaac with many "tanks" of ketchup and "cans" of syrup and also an unlimited supply of chocolate chips. Please help Maya glean as many nutrients as possible from Lucky Charms and bread. Help Eva to ask more questions at school than she does at home. And help me, dear Lord, to have the patience to answer 86 questions daily without appearing to need an exorcism. Oh, dear Lord, help me.
Please guide me in service to others (and I don't mean cooking meals for my family) and inspire me in creative ways (and I don't mean folding towels in a different direction). Please keep us all safe as we endure, I mean enjoy, a three day weekend together. For this and much, (much) more I pray.
Amen.
1. Hair color (Natural Match by Loreal in Dark Brown to be specific.)
2. And while we are on toiletries...Chapstick and lotion (not necessarily in that order)
3. Hot water
4. Good socks
5. A warm house
6. Long underwear (it's like 15 years old but it still does the job.)
7. My mom (Who is meeting me for lunch today in the frigid cold.)
And now a little prayer. I'm a little rusty in this department so God let me just ask for your forgiveness up front. Thanks.
Dear God,
I'd like to start off by taking a moment to thank you for all those warm summer days I took for granted. Thanks they were great. In case things get boring up there and you want to, you know, mix it up a little bit and throw in a 70 degree day towards the end of January. That'd be great. Just a thought.
As always please guide and protect my children. Please help me in providing the things they need to grow and be happy which includes providing Isaac with many "tanks" of ketchup and "cans" of syrup and also an unlimited supply of chocolate chips. Please help Maya glean as many nutrients as possible from Lucky Charms and bread. Help Eva to ask more questions at school than she does at home. And help me, dear Lord, to have the patience to answer 86 questions daily without appearing to need an exorcism. Oh, dear Lord, help me.
Please guide me in service to others (and I don't mean cooking meals for my family) and inspire me in creative ways (and I don't mean folding towels in a different direction). Please keep us all safe as we endure, I mean enjoy, a three day weekend together. For this and much, (much) more I pray.
Amen.
Wednesday, January 14, 2009
Haiku
No I didn't sneeze, that's Haiku, as in poetry. Eva's homework tonight was to write a haiku for her language arts class. So I'm inspired to write my own. In case you are approximately 30 years beyond 5th grade like I am then I'll remind you what a haiku is. The definition taken from Wikipedia (I love Wikipedia) is .....ok never mind, that was way more than I can process at 7pm. Let me just give you my own definition as gleaned from Mrs. Shore, 5th grade teacher. It's Japanese poetry that typically consists of 3 lines that don't rhyme. The first line has 5 syllables, the second line has 7 and the third line has 5 again.
Let me give you an example:
Kids never clean up
My house is a disaster
Wishing for a maid
Or...
My head hurts
Too many questions from them
I ask, why, oh why?
How about....
It's $#@%! cold out there
Where is my long underwear?
Move to Florida
Oops I rhymed. Writing poetry without rhyming is a challenge for me. But I think I'm doing pretty good.
And....
Oh my gray, gray hairs
Children, children everywhere
I need a bigger house
Ok, that last line had six syllables but I needed to get that point across.
Last one...
She is a good dog
And she can be a bad dog.
What is that god forsaken smell?
Ok, haiku is a little harder than it looks. Send me your attempts at haiku. Tomorrow will be a good day to stay inside and read poetry.
Haiku is fun fun
Kinda like Shakespeare but not
Don't be a chicken
Let me give you an example:
Kids never clean up
My house is a disaster
Wishing for a maid
Or...
My head hurts
Too many questions from them
I ask, why, oh why?
How about....
It's $#@%! cold out there
Where is my long underwear?
Move to Florida
Oops I rhymed. Writing poetry without rhyming is a challenge for me. But I think I'm doing pretty good.
And....
Oh my gray, gray hairs
Children, children everywhere
I need a bigger house
Ok, that last line had six syllables but I needed to get that point across.
Last one...
She is a good dog
And she can be a bad dog.
What is that god forsaken smell?
Ok, haiku is a little harder than it looks. Send me your attempts at haiku. Tomorrow will be a good day to stay inside and read poetry.
Haiku is fun fun
Kinda like Shakespeare but not
Don't be a chicken
Tuesday, January 13, 2009
You Lobster, Me Burrito
It's the season of love, well, almost. Valentine's Day is just around the corner so you'd better start planning something special for your sweetie. Or if you're like my parents just go to a Hallmark store together, pick out each other a card and then give it to each other right there in the store. Read it, then put it back. After 40 some years of marriage it's the perfect Valentine - quick, easy, and cheap.
Last night I told Tim he was my lobster. It's a phrase I've often heard his sister Linda say. Maybe it's a phrase you haven't heard before. It was definitely a phrase Tim hadn't heard before. So let me enlighten you. Lobsters supposedly mate for life so when you tell someone they are your lobster you're essentially saying that they are your soul mate, you're willing to love them till death do you part and there's no one else in the world you'd rather scour the ocean floor with. Tim responded by saying I was his burrito. I said "WHAT???" What does a burrito have to do with eternal undying devotion? Evidently he thought we were talking food.
He recovered by saying that he LOVES burritos and since I know this is true I know that he loves me at least as much as he loves burritos, maybe even more. Although if he'd taken a little more time to respond he might have come up with a food he enjoys even more than burritos. He might have said "you are you're mother's meatballs". I think I'm glad he didn't take more time.
So to add another page to "A YEAR IN PICTURES" I decided to go ahead and make a Valentine for my special lobster. A homemade Valentine - even better than my parents cheap and easy version.
For my one and only lobster..... in color too!
Last night I told Tim he was my lobster. It's a phrase I've often heard his sister Linda say. Maybe it's a phrase you haven't heard before. It was definitely a phrase Tim hadn't heard before. So let me enlighten you. Lobsters supposedly mate for life so when you tell someone they are your lobster you're essentially saying that they are your soul mate, you're willing to love them till death do you part and there's no one else in the world you'd rather scour the ocean floor with. Tim responded by saying I was his burrito. I said "WHAT???" What does a burrito have to do with eternal undying devotion? Evidently he thought we were talking food.
He recovered by saying that he LOVES burritos and since I know this is true I know that he loves me at least as much as he loves burritos, maybe even more. Although if he'd taken a little more time to respond he might have come up with a food he enjoys even more than burritos. He might have said "you are you're mother's meatballs". I think I'm glad he didn't take more time.
So to add another page to "A YEAR IN PICTURES" I decided to go ahead and make a Valentine for my special lobster. A homemade Valentine - even better than my parents cheap and easy version.
For my one and only lobster..... in color too!
Monday, January 12, 2009
Totally Maniacal Music Monday
Welcome to the first official edition of "Michelle's Maniacal, Magic, Music, Anti-Manic Depressive, Music (did I say that already?) Monday." (name subject to change.) Ok, I know we're already half way through this Monday but better late than never right? It's hard to be musically inspired on this rather bleak and gray Monday especially with below zero degree temperatures heading to the Midwest. I think this song is a good pick because it starts out a little slow and depressing but leaps right into "IT'S A NEW DAY CHIQUITITA!!" You might just want to get up off your desk chair and dance but I'll leave that decision up to you and the people you have to watch you. This ones for you Tim!
Happy Monday.
Happy Monday.
Thursday, January 8, 2009
Day 2
Sometimes life just isn't fair. Ironically this is something I'm always telling my middle child Eva who is yet again, home sick today. I'm sure she thinks this day is perfectly fair because to her the whole concept of education, school and learning is completely biased AGAINST children. Today because she is home (for yes, just the second day) my life is unfair. So, so UNFAIR.
It was just Tuesday that I finally sent all three of my children back to school after Christmas break. I had one, solo, single day of peace. Uno pequito dayo. (My spanish is a little rusty.) I'm ready for the next one.
I am going to do something that is WAY out of character for me I'm going to attempt cheeriness or rather I'm going to fake cheeriness. (It's not like you can tell the difference from my typing.) I am going to bless us all with a little pick me up. I might even make this a regular feature here at Blogginwoman. Maybe I'll do it every Monday and call it "Musical Mondays" or "Not So Manic Depressed Monday" or something like that.
Here's a crazy idea. Send me a comment and let me know what YOU think. And no email. Sign up and comment damn it. I know you're out there reading this. If you comment then I'll feel like I'm not just talking to myself. Although I'll still talk to myself too. How about Musically Manic Mondays? I know you have an opinion.
So here's my treat to you. Crank up the sound baby. Let those bell bottoms take you back to the 70's (if you really want to go there) then close your eyes (cause the Bellamy Brothers are not really a visual treat) and just sit back and let the love flow....
This one's for you Bobbie - hope you feel better soon!
It was just Tuesday that I finally sent all three of my children back to school after Christmas break. I had one, solo, single day of peace. Uno pequito dayo. (My spanish is a little rusty.) I'm ready for the next one.
I am going to do something that is WAY out of character for me I'm going to attempt cheeriness or rather I'm going to fake cheeriness. (It's not like you can tell the difference from my typing.) I am going to bless us all with a little pick me up. I might even make this a regular feature here at Blogginwoman. Maybe I'll do it every Monday and call it "Musical Mondays" or "Not So Manic Depressed Monday" or something like that.
Here's a crazy idea. Send me a comment and let me know what YOU think. And no email. Sign up and comment damn it. I know you're out there reading this. If you comment then I'll feel like I'm not just talking to myself. Although I'll still talk to myself too. How about Musically Manic Mondays? I know you have an opinion.
So here's my treat to you. Crank up the sound baby. Let those bell bottoms take you back to the 70's (if you really want to go there) then close your eyes (cause the Bellamy Brothers are not really a visual treat) and just sit back and let the love flow....
This one's for you Bobbie - hope you feel better soon!
Wednesday, January 7, 2009
Too Bad, So Sad
It was a sad morning this morning. Eva was not feeling well so we let her sleep in. So Maya had to get on the bus by herself which made her very sad. She also had to go to school and her sister did not which made her very sad. I was sad because Eva was probably going to end up staying home all day from school and I had yet to determine if Eva was sick or just "sick", so my sadness made Maya even sadder. Isaac wanted me to come to lunch with him today and I told him I couldn't do that with Eva home sick from school so he was sad.
Eva got up at 8:30 and was very happy because she didn't have to go to school. At least someone is happy today.
So here's my picture of the day...
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...
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...
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Our first real snow this season. This is from my front door.
You thought it was going to be a drawing of me crying my eyes out and Eva sick on the couch. Don't be sad, I'll save that for tomorrow's post...
Eva got up at 8:30 and was very happy because she didn't have to go to school. At least someone is happy today.
So here's my picture of the day...
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...
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..
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...
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Our first real snow this season. This is from my front door.
You thought it was going to be a drawing of me crying my eyes out and Eva sick on the couch. Don't be sad, I'll save that for tomorrow's post...
Tuesday, January 6, 2009
Back To School
Monday, January 5, 2009
OMG
Oh........my..........god........... Is it Tuesday yet? That would be the day my many mini minions go back to school. Suddenly the days are ..... moving ...... very ..... slowwwwwllllllyyyyyyyy .......
It was Saturday night that I started thinking "I'm not going to make it two more days." That might be why my head started hurting. And here it is two days later and the pressure feels like I'm 20 feet underwater. I'm fairly certain the only thing that could release the tension in my neck would be a Valium. A Valium and that big yellow school bus....
My kids are really well behaved, that's not why they make my head hurt, for the most part. What sends me over the edge is the 82 questions I answer hourly from each child. That's .... wait.... 246 questions per hour. I think I just popped a blood vessel....
The truly annoying factor is that one kid will ask a question right in front of the 2 other kids but for some reason the other two kids EACH have to ask that question again themselves. For example Maya might ask me "What's for dinner?" I'll answer the question with the other 2 children present and then Isaac will say "what are we having for dinner?" and then Eva will say "What are we having for dinner, why are we having that?, can I have something else? and when will dad be home? I'll answer all three questions so that Maya and then Isaac can follow up with the same 3 follow up questions. And then I hear some woman yelling at her kids to let her make mac 'n cheese in peace and realize shortly after the room clears that I was the one channelling Joan Crawford. Well, at least I kept the language clean. I think.
Eva has a special gift where she can ask the same question in many, many, multiple different ways which not only leaves my annoyed but frustrated. It's a gift Eva has. I hope someday it works to her advantage. I'm thinking maybe divorce lawyer. Anyway, for example, Eva has asked me several times when she and Maya can take their earrings out (Maya and Eva both got their ears pierced about 5 weeks ago.) I told her in the middle of January some time. I understand this wasn't specific enough for her. So Maya came up with a date of January 10th which she told me in front of Eva so Eva had to ask "Can we take our earrings out on January 10th?" Yes, you can. End of discussion.
The next day Eva asked me "Mom can we take our earrings out on January 10th?"
(Me) "Yes, January 10th". (She just needed a reminder.)
The next day Eva asks "Mom can we take our earrings out on Saturday?"
(Me) "Is that January 10th?"
(Eva) "Yes".
(Me) "Then yes you can."
The next day...
(Eva) "Can we put in different earrings in on Saturday?"
(Me) "Yes, you can. You can take out your earrings on Saturday, January 10th and also put in other earrings on Saturday, January 10th. You can do all those things on Saturday, January 10th. Don't ask me if you can do anything else, Saturday, January 10th. I'll say "no". Thanks for asking."
It was Saturday night that I started thinking "I'm not going to make it two more days." That might be why my head started hurting. And here it is two days later and the pressure feels like I'm 20 feet underwater. I'm fairly certain the only thing that could release the tension in my neck would be a Valium. A Valium and that big yellow school bus....
My kids are really well behaved, that's not why they make my head hurt, for the most part. What sends me over the edge is the 82 questions I answer hourly from each child. That's .... wait.... 246 questions per hour. I think I just popped a blood vessel....
The truly annoying factor is that one kid will ask a question right in front of the 2 other kids but for some reason the other two kids EACH have to ask that question again themselves. For example Maya might ask me "What's for dinner?" I'll answer the question with the other 2 children present and then Isaac will say "what are we having for dinner?" and then Eva will say "What are we having for dinner, why are we having that?, can I have something else? and when will dad be home? I'll answer all three questions so that Maya and then Isaac can follow up with the same 3 follow up questions. And then I hear some woman yelling at her kids to let her make mac 'n cheese in peace and realize shortly after the room clears that I was the one channelling Joan Crawford. Well, at least I kept the language clean. I think.
Eva has a special gift where she can ask the same question in many, many, multiple different ways which not only leaves my annoyed but frustrated. It's a gift Eva has. I hope someday it works to her advantage. I'm thinking maybe divorce lawyer. Anyway, for example, Eva has asked me several times when she and Maya can take their earrings out (Maya and Eva both got their ears pierced about 5 weeks ago.) I told her in the middle of January some time. I understand this wasn't specific enough for her. So Maya came up with a date of January 10th which she told me in front of Eva so Eva had to ask "Can we take our earrings out on January 10th?" Yes, you can. End of discussion.
The next day Eva asked me "Mom can we take our earrings out on January 10th?"
(Me) "Yes, January 10th". (She just needed a reminder.)
The next day Eva asks "Mom can we take our earrings out on Saturday?"
(Me) "Is that January 10th?"
(Eva) "Yes".
(Me) "Then yes you can."
The next day...
(Eva) "Can we put in different earrings in on Saturday?"
(Me) "Yes, you can. You can take out your earrings on Saturday, January 10th and also put in other earrings on Saturday, January 10th. You can do all those things on Saturday, January 10th. Don't ask me if you can do anything else, Saturday, January 10th. I'll say "no". Thanks for asking."
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