The only problem with keeping a blog, or attempting to keep a blog, is that not much actually happens in my life. And as it turns out, blogging about nothing is not only challenging in and of itself, but its also not really that interesting to read.
See, I'm essentially a shut in. Its just too damn hard to leave the house with the lot that I have. Sure, they can be cute. For about 5 minutes. Then they are less cute. Since I can't control when those 5 minutes are and I can't control the proximity of one child's 5 minutes of cuteness to another child's, then I run a pretty high risk of having at least 3 children in the not so cute state.
I no longer care what other people think. I am so far past that. I find it surprising when people try to offer empathy:
" They always have fits in public, don't they?"
I don't care if people think I'm the worst person or parent on the planet based on my child's state. What I do care about is my own annoyance factor. Its ANNOYING to hear a child shrieking and screaming at the top of their lungs.
When Holden was little he would scream. He would tell me " I am so ANGRY!"
I would tell him he had to be angry more quietly.
With Oliver it was all about getting him to use words. So I'd get right in front of him, force him to make eye contact with me, and give him the words he needed:
I am MAD! I am so MAD!
Eventually he learned to yell the right words and not just scream. It was a big step.
Oliver would still revert to simply shrieking. He would throw himself down in front of me. I'd step over him. He'd get up and run ahead of me and throw himself down again, looking slightly confused. ( Mommy sure is dense. She didn't even see me on the ground).
Oliver still resorts to a shriek when things don't go his way. Sometimes I can thwart a predictable one by shrieking before he does. He always screams when he gets in the car.
" BUCKLE IN! I NEED BUCKLE IN!"
Apparently he needs to shatter my eardrums as well. So now, as we approach the car, I scream:
" BUCKLE IN!"
He laughs when I beat him to it.
But I'm not always in the mood for this game.
I think I used up all my patience on Oliver.
I have no problem ignoring the screaming complaints of Griffin and Laurel. You think you can scream and get what you want? You think my threshold is low enough that I will cave? Ha! Oliver came before you! You are so screwed.
Sometimes all four are whining and complaining and beating on one another and sobbing. I just look at them and think:
OK, this is too annoying for me to deal with. Eventually they'll tire themselves out.
However, bringing the lot of them to the grocery store or anywhere for that matter, isn't easy. I'm slowed down because there are four. I'm slowed down because someone is having a meltdown. I'm slowed down because every two minutes people stop me and say:
" Thats quite a crew you have there."
" Supermom".
" You have a lot of kids!"
" Are they all twins?" Um... what? Yes, they were just born in different years which is why some are taller.
People mean well and I know its a way of reaching out and offering some sort of vague emotional support and I appreciate that. But when one child is screaming and hitting a sibling, and someone else is having some sort of sit in protest and another one has disappeared and the final one has decided he needs to pee right here in the store...well, I don't really have time to talk about how I have 4 children. So I just smile and say Yes in the hopes that whatever they are asking will be sated with this response.
Then I forget to buy the milk or whatever it was that lured me out of the house to begin with. By the time we return home I am so thankful to have the walls that confine them. I am thankful for the gated backyard. I am thankful for my ability to live as a shut in. But I don't have much blog material.
Wednesday, January 28, 2009
Friday, January 23, 2009
A Glass of Wine
People keep asking me if its getting easier.
Its not.
Some aspects have improved. The kids are older and in a few instances that can help a situation. I change fewer diapers. I don't have to have as many readily available snacks and everyone can drink out of a cup. In that respect things are easier. But overall? Well, take Wednesday for example...
Griffin was running a fever. He woke up from a nap with a 101.6 fever. It was too late to cancel his speech pathologist. He was OK, but not terribly focused ( Thanks for understanding, Lisa!). Laurel was distracting.
Oliver's bus arrived just after Griffin's appointment ended. I needed to load everyone in the car to go get Holden. So I convinced everyone to wear shoes , and convinced everyone to wear raincoats, and gathered the umbrellas ( Diego, pink cats, Buzz Lightyear and dinosaurs ). Oliver gathered Buzz and Woody. Then I loaded them into the car. There was no parking so I had to park farther away than I would have liked.
No one wanted to hold the umbrellas over their heads. They just wanted to hold the umbrellas and scream that rain landed on their heads.
Slowly, slowly we made our way to the school. It was Popsicle day. I loathe Popsicle day. We gathered Holden who was busy dropping his coat into the mud. Holden saw me and immediately began clamoring for Popsicles. I had planned on getting Popsicles for everyone, but at this point the line was very long. Oliver doesn't do well with lines. Let alone very long ones. There is no convincing him that he will ever get a Popsicle if he does not one instantly. So... the inevitable... Oliver ran to the front of the line and he grabbed a Popsicle, demanding that someone open it.
The parent volunteer looked aghast and looked around to see who was in charge of this troglodyte child. Oliver threw the Popsicle on the ground. I picked it up and returned it ( it was in a wrapper). I didn't offer any explanations to the parent volunteer. Oliver was so mad he threw Buzz. The ultimate expression of anger ( How would you like it if I threw Buzz???) I grabbed Oliver.
NO! You do NOT throw! You WAIT your turn! When you grab and run to the front of the line you get NO Popsicle. When you scream you get NO Popsicle."
Oliver was mad. He shrieked and wailed and threw himself on the ground and refused to get up. Holden helpfully ran off to go talk to some friends. Laurel and Griffin insisted on holding my hands and screamed whenever I'd let go. But I had to let go to grab Oliver to drag him back to the car. So Griffin and Laurel screamed too.
Finally we made it to the car. Now we were off to the pediatrician for Holden's annual school physical and Oliver's belated 5 year check up.
We arrived in the waiting room and everyone began squabbling over who got to ride the wooden camel and who got what color crayon and who sat in which seat. So Oliver threw all the crayons on the floor and Holden rode the camel rocking horse which is clearly meant for much younger children. Griffin and Laurel screamed.
The nurse came out. She thought it would be a great idea to do these appointments piece meal. First we'd go back and forth with Holden and Oliver getting blood pressure and weight and measurements, then we'd eventually see the Dr. She also thought the receptionists could keep an eye on the children that were not currently involved. Destined to fail.
No way was Oliver either going somewhere without me or waiting somewhere without me. No way were Griffin or Laurel staying in a waiting room without me. The nurse that was going to play with them didn't seem like he had much to offer as far as they were concerned.
So everyone went back to the exam room.
Holden got weighed and measured first. Oliver was inspired by this and took off his shoes and claimed it was his turn. The nurse did not seem to realize that this was her one and only chance. She finished her paper work. I was shocked to see that Oliver still wanted his turn.
OK, she said. Lets put down Buzz and Woody.
Thats not I good idea , I volunteered.
She didn't listen.
Oliver screamed. He shrieked. He yelled. He doubled over in agony. He screamed like a wounded animal. Tears flowed.
The nurse let him keep Buzz and Woody. I doubt they would really affect his weight so much that they would disrupt his growth chart. I'm glad, and surprised, that she relented. People usually don't. They like to help " teach a lesson". In my opinion half of these " lessons" are unnecessary and create greater headaches than they are worth.
At this point Oliver was still distraught so although the nurse was able to get his weight she could not get his height.
Then we needed to confer with the Dr prior to the rest of the exam. So we were to wait in her office. She has a fun mirror in there.
Laurel needed to lick the fun mirror. Griffin thought that looked like fun. He wanted to lick the fun mirror. Laurel got mad. It was her mirror.
NO! Laurel screamed.
NO NO NO!!! Laurel screamed at the top of her lungs. ITS MINE!
GRIFFIN IS PUSHING ME! ACK!
" Noooooo, " Griffin whined, sobbing and moaning, "My turn! My turn, Laurel!" aheh aheh He sobbed.
Laurel became irate. She began shrieking and sobbing with her mouth on the mirror, smearing it with snot and tears.
Oliver giggled and decided this would be a great time to get in Griffins face and yell " TIME TO GO TO TAHOE!"
Meanwhile the Dr examined Holden and tried to ask me questions over the mayhem.
She thought it might be better to have the others in another room while she examined Oliver . She called in the nurses. Several of them. I told Holden to go to the waiting room and to help take care of Laurel and Griffin. Griffin was willing to go as long as Holden was going. Laurel was staying with me. She screamed so loud the windows reverberated. The nurses looked at her uneasily. One bent down to try to snatch her but she quickly went limp. She knows how to turn herself into a greased squirrel when need be so there was no catching her. She wriggled and writhed. We decided to try having her in the room. Two is better than four.
The nurses gave everyone stickers. Laurel got princess, Griffin and Oliver got Thomas. Holden picked a Dalmatian sticker.
Holden and Griffin left to play with nurses.
Laurel could not find her sticker. She became frantic. Someone got her a new sticker.
The Dr. joined us. Oliver drew on the waxed paper mat on the exam table. The Dr was impressed with Oliver's writing skills ( we all are).
She asked questions. I answered them. Laurel vied for attention. The Dr listened to Oliver's heart. She let Oliver listen too. I was surprised that he would listen, mostly because I would never have guessed that he'd be OK with having a stethoscope in his ears. But he listened. She tried to put a blood pressure cuff on him. Oliver was not interested in having a blood pressure cuff. He tried to take it off. He screamed, he yelled. I held him down. But he writhed and fussed and screamed so much it was impossible to get any sort of reading. Meanwhile Laurel rubbed her stuffed animal cat on the garbage can. The Dr wanted Oliver to take his shirt off in preparation for his shots. This wasn't going to go over well. I waited until the last possible second. We had one of the nurses escort Laurel out while Oliver got his four shots. Laurel was OK with it because I told her to go get Holden.
Oliver was not OK. He wanted his shirt. He did not want alcohol wiped on his skin. I squeezed him tight as he screamed. We switched sides fast. He screamed more. I felt horrible. Good thing I have strong arms. We were done. Oliver was distraught. He gulped down water. He continued to cry. We joined the others in the waiting room where they'd been appeased with TV, but they were still fighting over riding the wooden camel. Laurel spied her missing princess sticker on the back of Oliver's knee.
Laurel screamed.
OLIVER TOOK IT MY PRINCESS STICKER!
Oliver had no idea what was happening. He didn't know a grubby princess sticker had adhered itself to the back of his jeans. He didn't like Laurel screaming. So he screamed. Holden took the sticker off of Oliver and gave it to Laurel. But she was still mad.
Laurel ran to the basket of stickers to attempt to help herself to all of the remaining princess stickers. Griffin was inspired to attempt to score additional Thomas stickers. No one wanted their raincoats back on. Everyone needed to run to the waiting room bathroom to get urine cups of water.
The silence we left in our wake was noticeable to all. All sound exited with us and the relief of the Doctors and nurses was almost audible.
There was a fight over whose turn was first at the water and germ fountain in the hallway. Then there was fighting over the elevator buttons. Fortunately the ceiling in the elevator is mirrored and that provides plenty of entertainment.
Finally we made it back to the parking lot, into the car, and we headed home through rush hour traffic. I took the back way home but it still took a good 45 minutes before we finally made it home.
Scrambled eggs for dinner.
And no, its not really any easier. I generally am OK with the constant chaos. I'm used to it. I would even venture to say that its all worth it. But its not easy.
Just thinking about it has inspired me to pour myself a glass of wine.
Its not.
Some aspects have improved. The kids are older and in a few instances that can help a situation. I change fewer diapers. I don't have to have as many readily available snacks and everyone can drink out of a cup. In that respect things are easier. But overall? Well, take Wednesday for example...
Griffin was running a fever. He woke up from a nap with a 101.6 fever. It was too late to cancel his speech pathologist. He was OK, but not terribly focused ( Thanks for understanding, Lisa!). Laurel was distracting.
Oliver's bus arrived just after Griffin's appointment ended. I needed to load everyone in the car to go get Holden. So I convinced everyone to wear shoes , and convinced everyone to wear raincoats, and gathered the umbrellas ( Diego, pink cats, Buzz Lightyear and dinosaurs ). Oliver gathered Buzz and Woody. Then I loaded them into the car. There was no parking so I had to park farther away than I would have liked.
No one wanted to hold the umbrellas over their heads. They just wanted to hold the umbrellas and scream that rain landed on their heads.
Slowly, slowly we made our way to the school. It was Popsicle day. I loathe Popsicle day. We gathered Holden who was busy dropping his coat into the mud. Holden saw me and immediately began clamoring for Popsicles. I had planned on getting Popsicles for everyone, but at this point the line was very long. Oliver doesn't do well with lines. Let alone very long ones. There is no convincing him that he will ever get a Popsicle if he does not one instantly. So... the inevitable... Oliver ran to the front of the line and he grabbed a Popsicle, demanding that someone open it.
The parent volunteer looked aghast and looked around to see who was in charge of this troglodyte child. Oliver threw the Popsicle on the ground. I picked it up and returned it ( it was in a wrapper). I didn't offer any explanations to the parent volunteer. Oliver was so mad he threw Buzz. The ultimate expression of anger ( How would you like it if I threw Buzz???) I grabbed Oliver.
NO! You do NOT throw! You WAIT your turn! When you grab and run to the front of the line you get NO Popsicle. When you scream you get NO Popsicle."
Oliver was mad. He shrieked and wailed and threw himself on the ground and refused to get up. Holden helpfully ran off to go talk to some friends. Laurel and Griffin insisted on holding my hands and screamed whenever I'd let go. But I had to let go to grab Oliver to drag him back to the car. So Griffin and Laurel screamed too.
Finally we made it to the car. Now we were off to the pediatrician for Holden's annual school physical and Oliver's belated 5 year check up.
We arrived in the waiting room and everyone began squabbling over who got to ride the wooden camel and who got what color crayon and who sat in which seat. So Oliver threw all the crayons on the floor and Holden rode the camel rocking horse which is clearly meant for much younger children. Griffin and Laurel screamed.
The nurse came out. She thought it would be a great idea to do these appointments piece meal. First we'd go back and forth with Holden and Oliver getting blood pressure and weight and measurements, then we'd eventually see the Dr. She also thought the receptionists could keep an eye on the children that were not currently involved. Destined to fail.
No way was Oliver either going somewhere without me or waiting somewhere without me. No way were Griffin or Laurel staying in a waiting room without me. The nurse that was going to play with them didn't seem like he had much to offer as far as they were concerned.
So everyone went back to the exam room.
Holden got weighed and measured first. Oliver was inspired by this and took off his shoes and claimed it was his turn. The nurse did not seem to realize that this was her one and only chance. She finished her paper work. I was shocked to see that Oliver still wanted his turn.
OK, she said. Lets put down Buzz and Woody.
Thats not I good idea , I volunteered.
She didn't listen.
Oliver screamed. He shrieked. He yelled. He doubled over in agony. He screamed like a wounded animal. Tears flowed.
The nurse let him keep Buzz and Woody. I doubt they would really affect his weight so much that they would disrupt his growth chart. I'm glad, and surprised, that she relented. People usually don't. They like to help " teach a lesson". In my opinion half of these " lessons" are unnecessary and create greater headaches than they are worth.
At this point Oliver was still distraught so although the nurse was able to get his weight she could not get his height.
Then we needed to confer with the Dr prior to the rest of the exam. So we were to wait in her office. She has a fun mirror in there.
Laurel needed to lick the fun mirror. Griffin thought that looked like fun. He wanted to lick the fun mirror. Laurel got mad. It was her mirror.
NO! Laurel screamed.
NO NO NO!!! Laurel screamed at the top of her lungs. ITS MINE!
GRIFFIN IS PUSHING ME! ACK!
" Noooooo, " Griffin whined, sobbing and moaning, "My turn! My turn, Laurel!" aheh aheh He sobbed.
Laurel became irate. She began shrieking and sobbing with her mouth on the mirror, smearing it with snot and tears.
Oliver giggled and decided this would be a great time to get in Griffins face and yell " TIME TO GO TO TAHOE!"
Meanwhile the Dr examined Holden and tried to ask me questions over the mayhem.
She thought it might be better to have the others in another room while she examined Oliver . She called in the nurses. Several of them. I told Holden to go to the waiting room and to help take care of Laurel and Griffin. Griffin was willing to go as long as Holden was going. Laurel was staying with me. She screamed so loud the windows reverberated. The nurses looked at her uneasily. One bent down to try to snatch her but she quickly went limp. She knows how to turn herself into a greased squirrel when need be so there was no catching her. She wriggled and writhed. We decided to try having her in the room. Two is better than four.
The nurses gave everyone stickers. Laurel got princess, Griffin and Oliver got Thomas. Holden picked a Dalmatian sticker.
Holden and Griffin left to play with nurses.
Laurel could not find her sticker. She became frantic. Someone got her a new sticker.
The Dr. joined us. Oliver drew on the waxed paper mat on the exam table. The Dr was impressed with Oliver's writing skills ( we all are).
She asked questions. I answered them. Laurel vied for attention. The Dr listened to Oliver's heart. She let Oliver listen too. I was surprised that he would listen, mostly because I would never have guessed that he'd be OK with having a stethoscope in his ears. But he listened. She tried to put a blood pressure cuff on him. Oliver was not interested in having a blood pressure cuff. He tried to take it off. He screamed, he yelled. I held him down. But he writhed and fussed and screamed so much it was impossible to get any sort of reading. Meanwhile Laurel rubbed her stuffed animal cat on the garbage can. The Dr wanted Oliver to take his shirt off in preparation for his shots. This wasn't going to go over well. I waited until the last possible second. We had one of the nurses escort Laurel out while Oliver got his four shots. Laurel was OK with it because I told her to go get Holden.
Oliver was not OK. He wanted his shirt. He did not want alcohol wiped on his skin. I squeezed him tight as he screamed. We switched sides fast. He screamed more. I felt horrible. Good thing I have strong arms. We were done. Oliver was distraught. He gulped down water. He continued to cry. We joined the others in the waiting room where they'd been appeased with TV, but they were still fighting over riding the wooden camel. Laurel spied her missing princess sticker on the back of Oliver's knee.
Laurel screamed.
OLIVER TOOK IT MY PRINCESS STICKER!
Oliver had no idea what was happening. He didn't know a grubby princess sticker had adhered itself to the back of his jeans. He didn't like Laurel screaming. So he screamed. Holden took the sticker off of Oliver and gave it to Laurel. But she was still mad.
Laurel ran to the basket of stickers to attempt to help herself to all of the remaining princess stickers. Griffin was inspired to attempt to score additional Thomas stickers. No one wanted their raincoats back on. Everyone needed to run to the waiting room bathroom to get urine cups of water.
The silence we left in our wake was noticeable to all. All sound exited with us and the relief of the Doctors and nurses was almost audible.
There was a fight over whose turn was first at the water and germ fountain in the hallway. Then there was fighting over the elevator buttons. Fortunately the ceiling in the elevator is mirrored and that provides plenty of entertainment.
Finally we made it back to the parking lot, into the car, and we headed home through rush hour traffic. I took the back way home but it still took a good 45 minutes before we finally made it home.
Scrambled eggs for dinner.
And no, its not really any easier. I generally am OK with the constant chaos. I'm used to it. I would even venture to say that its all worth it. But its not easy.
Just thinking about it has inspired me to pour myself a glass of wine.
Tuesday, January 13, 2009
The Great Sock Mystery
I don't really believe in the whole mystery which enshrouds the age old where did the other sock go? Why isn't it in the dryer? questions. In our household there is always a wadded up sock shoved behind a sofa or inside a DVD case. Thats normal for us.
What I don't understand is the sock in the car phenomenon. How do we end up with one dirty sock in the car? Does someone take off their shoes and socks, drop one dirty sock on the floor, put one sock back on and then put their shoes back on? All without my noticing? Assuming that is the reason behind the lone sock in the car that leads right to the question.
Why? Why would someone do that?
What I don't understand is the sock in the car phenomenon. How do we end up with one dirty sock in the car? Does someone take off their shoes and socks, drop one dirty sock on the floor, put one sock back on and then put their shoes back on? All without my noticing? Assuming that is the reason behind the lone sock in the car that leads right to the question.
Why? Why would someone do that?
The Silence
At the moment I am loving the silence. Four children are in three schools and all I hear is silence. There is so much I should and could be doing but I have to stop and listen to the silence.
The incessant sound of fighting and squabbling and squealing and screeching and giggling and crashing and stomping and skipping is white noise to me. I've grown accustomed to it. Half the time I don't even hear it until it passes through that final threshold of tolerance. Then I break.
" STOP IT!!!!"
But most of the time I don't really hear it. Its self preservation. Its also much easier to tune in and out. I like to think of it as listening to the radio or watching a movie. I have to remove myself a little to stay sane amidst the incessant chaos.
The other night the moon was huge and bright and brilliant. Rather than appreciate the moon as such the children fought over the moon.
" Thats my moon". Laurel stated with pride.
"NO!" cried Griffin, instantly perturbed by the idea that Laurel had claimed the moon. " Thats my moon!"
It was all downhill from there.
So even though there are 10,000 things I need to be doing and could be doing, I'm opting to sit here for a minute and appreciate the silence. In a few hours my head will be ringing again.
The incessant sound of fighting and squabbling and squealing and screeching and giggling and crashing and stomping and skipping is white noise to me. I've grown accustomed to it. Half the time I don't even hear it until it passes through that final threshold of tolerance. Then I break.
" STOP IT!!!!"
But most of the time I don't really hear it. Its self preservation. Its also much easier to tune in and out. I like to think of it as listening to the radio or watching a movie. I have to remove myself a little to stay sane amidst the incessant chaos.
The other night the moon was huge and bright and brilliant. Rather than appreciate the moon as such the children fought over the moon.
" Thats my moon". Laurel stated with pride.
"NO!" cried Griffin, instantly perturbed by the idea that Laurel had claimed the moon. " Thats my moon!"
It was all downhill from there.
So even though there are 10,000 things I need to be doing and could be doing, I'm opting to sit here for a minute and appreciate the silence. In a few hours my head will be ringing again.
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