Like Swirling Bubbles

Earlier today I was outside with Annie and Izzie, standing on our front lawn and blowing bubbles. The girls love to watch me try to blow really big bubbles and then chase them and catch them with their hands, face, even tongues. It's windy out though, so most of the bubbles whipped around the girls and then swirled upwards toward the sky.  While I stood there watching the bubbles swirl around and around, I realized that lately, my days feel all swirly and crazy, just like the frenzied bubbles.

We're not into any sort of routine here yet. While Drew and Meg are on their third week of school (albeit only their first FULL week), Annie and Izzie have only been to school for two mornings. Some days all the kids are up before I am (and I get up at 6:15ish). Some days it's 7am and I'm getting Meg up so that we can make the 8:10 bus at the end of our driveway. Some days Doug is home long enough in the morning to help get breakfast for 4 on the table and he puts together lunches for Meg and Drew while I lay out clothes so that kids remember to put on fresh undies and don't try to put on socks that are too small or wear pants that are high-waters. Some days he's out the door just as I come downstairs and then it's an hour  or so of kids demanding every last bit of attention I can muster without coffee in my system.

Then there's a sort-of reprieve during the day. Meg and Drew get on the bus (or I deliver them to a school to catch a bus-Meg-and head into school-Drew) and then I either take Annie and Izzie to school or we just come back to the house for more coffee and snacks/play/tv/fighting/play/fighting/lunch/fighting. You get the drift.

Then 3:45 rolls around and the bus drops off Meg and Drew and the frenzied bubble action starts all over again. The kids fight for attention to tell me about their day, Drew has a meltdown every.single.day because he can't go to a friend's house/have friends come over/smack his sisters. You get the drift. It's exhausting. I want so much to give them all undivided attention but I am one person and they are too many and it's just not possible. I've tried giving them each time to tell me about their days but they interrupt each other and there's just the general chaos that goes along with parenting four kids. Not to mention needing to make dinner or dealing with laundry or checking homework or all that other crap that you have to contend with as an adult.

I don't like the swirly, frenzied feeling. I much prefer being the bubble that floats along evenly in the sky. I prefer calm. I prefer quiet. Of course then I went and birthed four kids and that kind of all went out the window. By the end of the day I am so beat that doing anything other than putting on jammies and sitting my butt on my couch is seriously out of the question. It's not what I want. It's not how I want to feel. I want to enjoy the frenzy, at least some of the time. I want to be able to remember these days in a good light, not in the "ohgoodlordwillthiseverendandwhycan'ttheyjustbequietforfivewholeminutes" way that I'm feeling now.

But today I guess I'll watch the girls play outside in the dirt and get the big kids off the bus and try to breathe in and out when the bubbles go swirling through my house and make a good dinner and try to remember that I have it very, very good.

Right here, right now

Right now I'm sitting here at my desk instead of cleaning my kitchen. The dishes are piled high and I really need to empty and then refill my dishwasher, but alas that isn't happening. I'm watching my very old cat twitch in her sleep next to me (on the desk, taking up lots of space). She is so old that I'm always checking to see if she's still breathing. She was my first pet EVAH (no, I do not count the fish we had as kids) and while she's old and crabby, I love her to pieces. Of course, she was young and crabby once too and I loved her then.

***
It's eerily quiet upstairs right now. I think Meg is in her room cleaning as her friend O is coming to spend the day with us tomorrow. I am trying not to make a huge deal of this playdate, even though it's the first playdate Meg has had in 2 years (other than with her friend B, who comes here with his mom and she and I drink coffee and visit while the kids all play) but you have no idea how much I want this to GO WELL. She has already lost her collective shit more than once today and I'm hoping she gets this out of her system and just has fun tomorrow.

***
We're having our first ever yard sale in two weeks. Our basement is overflowing with things the kids have outgrown. Having twins really does mean double the stuff, like high chairs and Exersaucers and clothes, clothes, CLOTHES. I'm hoping we have a)good weather and b) a good turnout and c)get rid of some stuff taking up space oh and d) make a little money as well. The biggest challenge, next to the kids trying to reclaim half the toys we want to get rid of, is the fact that we live 1300 feet from the public road, so we're hoping people will make the trip up our driveway to see what we have.

***
The eerie quiet has been replaced with yelling. Three weeks until Meg and Drew go to school. I'm starting to crave some sort of a schedule. Oh sure, I've enjoyed getting dressed at 9 every day but that's going to come to a screeching halt here soon and I'm almost ok with that. Doug and I watched some football last night and I told him that if we're going to watch football then the humidity needs to go away, the temperature needs to drop and I need to fully immerse myself in fall. Fall is my favorite season, and at least here in Maine it seems to go very quickly and gets replaced by winter sooner than I'd like.

Keeping Quiet

I've started a dozen posts in my head, but none have even made it to the "draft" stage on the blog. Life is moving along, some days quickly (like Monday) and other days are just so....long and boring. I guess boring is the wrong word when you're the Mama of four kids though. How about long and tedious? Yes, that's better.

I think the hardest thing about writing blog posts is that I use other social media like Twitter and Facebook so I feel very much like I'm repeating myself, or that I have nothing really to say. I have plenty I want to say, but some of it is not my place to blog about and other things are just so....annoying to blog about, like the kids constantly fighting. I mean really, who cares, right? Kids fight. But that is the extent of my daily existence, so instead of blogging, I keep quiet.

Keeping quiet is a double-edged sword for me. There are things I want to blog about but choose not to because they are too personal in nature. There are things I want to blog about but choose not to because I am afraid to say what I'm thinking. I'm afraid to say some things because putting them out there makes them real, but keeping quiet means they're just floating around in my head and that is a safer place for them. Doug reads this blog. I think it would be pretty awful if he read something that I blogged about that I'd never mentioned to him.

Having this blog means that I have to pick and choose what aspect of myself to show my "audience". Lately that is becoming more difficult for me to do. I was never sure of the direction of my blog when I started it just over two years ago. I don't know where I want to go from here with it, either. My blog is certainly about more than just my kids because I am about more than just my kids (although at times it does NOT feel that way). And there's the issue. Maybe I need a new blog name. Maybe I need to be more comfortable in my own skin, which will allow me to write what I'm feeling, what I'm thinking.

Am I the only person who feels this way?
Should I stop blogging?
Should I change my blog name?
Thoughts? Suggestions? Vodka?

I Remember When

I remember when Friday nights were "date night". Doug and I would come home from our respective jobs, change into our "weekend clothes" and go out to dinner. Date night now involves trying to find someone to watch our four kids and then lamenting how much dinner and a babysitter cost these days;

I remember when I had "weekend clothes";

I remember when I slept past 6 am;

I remember when I didn't have a cell phone or Twitter or this blog or Facebook or even the internet;

I remember when I could talk on the phone for hours with friends without interruptions;

I remember when my kids were born and how amazed I was that "I" created such gorgeous babies;

I remember when my grocery bill was under $100;

I remember life before diapers;

I remember telling Doug I wanted four kids;

I remember having a cleaning schedule for my apartments and how neat and orderly I used to be;

I remember being able to spell words to Doug that I didn't want the kids to know;

I remember being able to listen to my alternative rock music in the car because no one listened to the music;

I remember owning more than one pair of shoes;

I remember our first apartment, our first house, our second house, our final house;

I remember weekends without softball or hockey, nights without piano music from my 9 year old filling the house and days without kids drawing on my walls with pencil.

I remember it all. And while there are so many things I miss, I wouldn't trade anything for the life I have with my husband and kids.

Happy Thoughts

While many of my friends are being buried under feet of snow, I sit here staring out my window at patches of grass in my yard. Don't get me wrong, we still have snow, but not the snow we should have. After all, it is February, and I do live in Maine. Global warming isn't real? I beg to differ.

I am a little ball of stress these days, between the whinings of the 9 year old, the 5 year old and the 3 year olds. I live the life of "same shit, different day" and it's taking a toll on my sanity. Instead of blogging about it all, I'm going to write down some things that make me happy in spite of all the crap that I have to deal with.

1. My girls are officially signed up for preschool in the fall.

2. Izzie likes to walk around singing Sheldon's "Soft Kitty". Wait, you don't know "Soft Kitty"? Here it is:




It is seriously the cutest thing, evah. I don't have a video camera or I'd definitely share it. Next, I think I'll teach her to sing "Smelly Cat".

3. The girls like to count. I guess on Meg's birthday, they were counting the hearts on the tablecloth with my mom, and Annie added her two favorite numbers: pinkteen and purpleteen.

4. Drew's preschool class was talking about who their Valentine was this year. He said his Daddy. I cried a little (dude, what about me?) but thought it was so cute. And his Daddy was pretty darn happy.

5. Football is over. It's almost Red Sox season!

Different

The noise level in the house is different when Doug is home during the week. The kids climb all over him when he's sitting down, like they haven't seen him for years. They fight over who is going to go with Daddy to the dump or the grocery store. They play together better when he is around.

The tension I carry in my neck, shoulders and back releases when Doug is home during the week. I feel like a different person knowing that at least for one day, the daily responsibilities are not all mine to bear. I leave the house on these days, usually to volunteer for a couple of hours in Meg's classroom, or actually run errands (which I never do when I'm home with 2 or 3 of the kids during the week as it's just too stressful). I come home feeling refreshed, happy, less anxious. It's a nice feeling, a different feeling from how I feel the rest of the week.

I told him last night that it actually bothers me deeply that the kids are better behaved when he is around. I'm not mad at him about it. I'm just sad that the air in the house is so much more negatively charged when he is at work. I want to bottle some of the positively charged air when he's here and sprinkle it on the kids when he's at work that they can be nicer to each other and to me. The days of Daddy at home during the week won't last too much longer (for which I'm happy, yet sad) and it would be lovely to find a way too keep some of the happiness that comes from him being around. Because certainly if I feel it, the kids feel it too.

Confessions

I almost never make my bed, but I love when it's made and I crawl into it at night. Especially if the sheets are fresh.

I wish I had the interior design skills shown in my Better Homes and Garden magazine.

I don't have a matched bedroom set. Heck, I don't even have a headboard for my bed.

Now that I've lived in my house for 3 1/2 years, I wish I had designed my kitchen a little differently.

The upstairs of my house rarely gets vacuumed. But I really love the look of a freshly vacuumed rug.

I can't stand the smell of most candles. They need to smell like food~vanilla, sugar cookies, pumpkin spice. Otherwise, I just sneeze and I've never been diagnosed with allergies.

I'm addicted to the following TV shows: Bones, The Mentalist, White Collar, NCIS and NCIS LA. I will watch NCIS anytime it's on TV (thank you very much USA).

I wish I had money to go to North Carolina to see an old friend from high school. We reconnected through our blogs. Her photos are fabulous. What's Down With the Browns? is where she blogs; go say hi.

I want to take the kids to Disney this year. It's not happening. It makes me sad.

I want to be sitting on a beach sipping a drink with my husband. That's not happening either.

I'm really excited that Daughtry is coming to Maine this summer and will be buying myself tickets for my birthday. So what if I'm going to be 38; he rocks.

Even though I complain about winter in Maine, I was happy it snowed a bit today. Spring is a long way off and I just couldn't look at the nasty brown grass that the rain uncovered on Monday.

Tonight I'm filling out paperwork for the twins to attend Drew's preschool in the fall. Instead of making me sad, it makes me jump with joy. Six whole hours a week to myself to do whatever I want. I haven't had that in five years and my sanity is suffering for it.

Updates, Updates, Updates

It's been a lousy few days here, with the kids succumbing to some sort of a quick flu virus. My plans with friends here at the house on Saturday had to be canceled as Meg was up all night vomiting. We thought the other kids were spared, but Sunday night at 11:15 Izzie got up to be sick, and Annie joined her at 4 am. Drew joined the party today. It's a very short virus, which is nice, but enough already. We've already had the flu, swine or not, plus Meg and I had strep throat. I'm quite done with this winter, thank you very much.

Meg's birthday is Saturday. She is NOT having a friend party, save her one good friend B who is coming over for the family party. After all my deliberating, she really could have cared less about what we did. At that, I'm a little dumbstruck. She was the one who went on and on about wanting her friends to come to a party, then when I told her that it wasn't happening, she didn't really care. We had a "discussion" (which means that I talked, she ignored me, and life went on) about how her inability to control her attitude and behavior was the reason for not inviting friends over, and she just blew me off. So, family party it is on Saturday, complete with a heart-shaped cake.

Potty training is NOT going well. Considering that I've already potty trained two kids, you think I'd be able to work with the girls, but quite frankly, they chose to do their own thing. Izzie does a much better job than Annie, who is perfectly content to pee in her pull-up or diaper. I think that I'm going to have to resort to plain old undies and lots of clothing changes to get them to pay attention. This method disturbs me to no end (whatever the hell that means) as I already do enough laundry, but I'm kind of at a loss otherwise.

The girls are doing great sleeping in their toddler beds. They no longer nap, unless we go somewhere in the car. If they nap in the car though, they won't go to sleep at night. Double edged sword. Oh, and when they're done sleeping in the morning (even if it's 5), they get up, tear all the bedding off their beds, yell, scream and play in their closet, waking up the whole house. Frustrated isn't even the best word to describe how I feel about this. There is no way of getting them to understand that they need to stay in their bed; they just DO NOT LISTEN.

Anyone have any ideas on how to get my loving 5 year old son back? He's been replaced by a foul-mouthed (as in, I HATE YOU MOMMY), whining, crying monster. He throws toys, screams and throws himself to the ground all damn day long. When he's in a good mood he's loving, kind, plays nicely with everyone, but then WHAM he gets nasty. Of course since that's how his older sister acts ALL the time, it's hard for him to learn otherwise.

Lately I've been wishing myself away from all of the crap of raising my kids. I mentally (and sadly, sometimes verbally) lament having to change diapers, do laundry, make lunches/snack/dinner, clean cat boxes. I feel overwhelmed and under loved. I literally want to throw myself on the floor, kick my feet and scream that I don't wanna do it. How awful is that? So then I beat myself up for feeling angry with THEM, when it's not their fault. They're just kids after all, and I would do well to remember that.

What do you do when you're feeling overwhelmed?

Memories Lost and Found

Yesterday Doug and I were cleaning up in the basement. I have friends coming over to scrapbook on Saturday and thought they'd prefer to be able to walk into my scrapbook area and not leap over empty wrapping paper rolls, empty boxes and about a thousand other items that have been tossed down there since Thanksgiving. It's an unfinished basement, and I use half of it for my Creative Memories business. Once Thanksgiving rolls around, my business goes into hiatus for a bit so that I can use the tables up in my dining room, and wrap Christmas presents away from the ever-prying eyes of four children.

Once we tackled organizing one part of the basement and realizing that indeed, we DO need to hold a yard sale, we started on the large stack of boxes that we have moved with us several times. Doug and I have lived in 1 apartment, 1 rented house and 2 homes of our own since 1997 and we have lots of STUFF. Things like a street sign from the street he grew up on. Things like a rather large collection of cassette tapes (for LISTENING, not WATCHING) from back before either of us owned CD players. I pulled out a tape yesterday and it happened to be one that he made for me in 1991 (yes, that would be 19 years ago!) and popped it into my very ancient, but perfectly workable, boom box. Yes, a mix tape from my boyfriend-now-husband that I used to play on that same boom box. It was fun to listen to the music while we worked, and we had a good laugh at the schmaltzy music we liked to listen to.

In another box Doug found a little wrist rattle that belonged to Megan. It was a little pink elephant head. We had named it Ellie Funt and she loved it. I have a ton of pictures with her wearing Ellie on her wrist when she was little. I got really emotional looking at that silly little elephant rattle, partly because holy cow I STILL have it, and partly because she's going to be 9 in a week. That little girl that loved Ellie is a big girl who loves American Girl dolls, Taylor Swift and books.

We'll be finding more memories in the basement over the next few months as we figure out out what to put in our yard sale. We'll be trying to sell lots of the kids clothes, old toys, cribs, things that have been a part of our lives for the better part of 9 years. Part of me wants to hold on to them, to hold on to the past, but the other part of me is ready to move on. There are plenty more memories to be made, clothes to outgrow, toys to put aside. We have to make room for those, even while we hold the past in our hearts.

There are days

There are days when I don't want to get out of bed. Those are the days when the kids have been awful and the thought of dealing with the same crap all over again is just too much to bear.

There are days when I yell. Too often. Too loud.

There are days when nothing gets done. No dishes get put away, no laundry gets washed (let alone dried), no cat boxes get cleaned.

There are days when the shit hits the fan and it seems like it's coming from everywhere and why can't we just get ahead just this once.

Then there are days when I can run an errand with three kids who not only listen to the rules, but follow them. And get a tv reward because of their good behavior.

There are days when Annie and Izzie play nicely together for more than two minutes and I can do a small project with Drew and we laugh and he writes his name so nicely it makes me want to cry thinking that in 9 months he'll be in kindergarten.

There are days when I not only think I might be a good mom, but I actually feel it in my bones.

Sights and Sounds

I sit at my messy computer desk watching the drip, drip, drip from my farmers porch.

I hear the kids sliding down the stairs on their bottoms chattering away.

I utter phrases like "please don't step on the book/puzzle/cat" and "please clean up all the crayons you just dumped on the floor".

I watch my cats sit in the window sill chattering at the ever growing population of ladybugs in the bathroom.

I look at all the snow and the trees that surround my home.

I hear that the dishwasher is done, again.

I hear requests for more snack, more juice, fresh pullup.

I see a large bag of items needing to be shredded, and yet another box of items to go to the dump.

Thump, thump, thump go the small feet of small girls running up and down the hallway above me.

Drip, drip, drip goes the melting snow outside my window.

Chatter, chatter, chatter from my son.

The day may change but the sights and sounds of my life remain constant.

Change of Heart

I started writing a post yesterday about my failings as a mother. About how no matter what I do, my kids don't listen to a damn thing I say. About how the kids fight me every.step.of.the.way all day long. About how I feel like I'm failing my kids by not setting rules that they can actually follow. Or some such drivel.

Then I got this on Twitter:

MicheleDan@kristins4kids Remember--none of us are perfect parents. Think how hard it would be on our kids if we were. We just have to be good enough. (If I knew how to actually copy my Twitter screen, I would have posted it that way. But I don't, so this will have to suffice).

To be honest, I did a mental rant-and-rave at this person after I got the message. I wasn't feeling good enough. I was feeling low. However, I had some time to digest what she was saying, and I realize she's right. I am doing the best I can possibly do for these kids of mine. Some days I do better than others. Some days I yell because they've emptied the entire toy shelf in the living room, and some days I just sit and watch them play with their toys and quietly ask them to put them away. Some days I have no patience for food/napkins/cups thrown on the floor and some days I remind them not to do that and ask them to pick them up themselves.

This morning started off much like yesterday did and I was getting really frustrated, again. Then somehow the kids settled down and there I was, reading books to Izzie, just the two of us. It was calming, reading silly Sandra Boynton books while she sat in my lap and snuggled against me. I could hear Drew and Annie playing nicely together and realized that it's not going to be peaches and cream, rainbows and glitter all the time. Sometimes it's going to be dark skies, cranky kids and cranky mama. Sometimes I won't be good enough. But I have to strive to be better, every single day. Not perfect, just better.

Alexander Graham Bell must hate me

When I was a teenager, I talked on the phone incessantly. Of course this was all before the invention of the internet, email, IMs, Facebooks, blogs, etc. You know, because I'm OLD. Ahem. I remember my parents finally telling my friends that called all the time that they were limited to a phone call a day. After all, we did see each other all day long at school, and for some of them on the bus too, so what the heck did we need to talk about?

When I was working, my phone literally grew out of my ear. I spent countless hours calling lenders for loan payoffs, for paperwork, calling brokers, buyers and sellers. I am certain I spent more time on the phone than I did actual "work". Lots of my calls were to automated systems, rarely to a real, live human being. Sometimes that was preferable to the real, live human beings I did have to speak with.

Now that I have Twitter, Facebook, my blog, email and a whole host of other computer related things, I almost never have a phone conversation anymore. My long distance bill used to be huge, but now I have unlimited long distance that I don't use. I'm not complaining though, because in all honesty, talking on the phone is a stressful event in my house these days. The minute I pick up a phone one of my darling cherubs needs something RIGHT.THAT.MINUTE. If I try to go into another room, they follow me, yelling for attention. Anyone who has attempted to call me during the daytime is usually treated to me talking to my KIDS more than to THEM. It's frustrating for everyone involved.

The same goes for blogging. Right now, my twins are screeching for my attention at the top of their lungs. Izzie is pulling on the computer cord and Annie is trying to sneak up the stairs. They both want "huggies" because I am occupied with something other than them for a minute or two. I keep reading blogs but my ability to respond is extremely limited these days given how the kids behave. It's very much like my parents limiting my friends' calls; all I can do is read but I can't comment, let alone write a blog post of my own.

Where was I going with this? Hmmm. Not sure. I had to put one twin in bed because she wouldn't stay off the stairs and I've been interrupted by the other 3 kids for various things. Anyway, I'm still here and I'm still reading (and sometimes writing) and if I haven't stopped by your blog in awhile, it's not for lack of trying. I need to carve out some more "me" time and then I'll be commenting away!

And now back to my regularly scheduled programming

I had a weekend away this weekend. I left at 4 on Friday and met up with my family at 10 yesterday morning at the ice rink. I got together with some friends at a condo and scrapbooked. All weekend. It was a really nice weekend. We ate. We drank. We ate some more. We watched some movies while we scrapbooked. We stayed up much too late. It was just a lot of fun and I got quite a bit accomplished in 2006 family album. I would do it again in a heartbeat.

With that said, I was so happy to come home and see my family that I practically ran out of there yesterday morning. I was up before everyone else, so I packed up my things, tidied up the place and made coffee. I showered quickly and left right on time so that I could be to the ice rink in time to see Meg play her game. Drew, the twins and my parents were waiting for me to arrive, and it was so awesome to have Drew run into my arms and hug me so tightly. The girls squealed my name when they saw me. I went down to the locker room to hug Meg, and she announced she was going to score a goal for me. If you follow me on Twitter, you know that she scored 4 goals yesterday! It was a phenomenal way to see my family.

Today I'm trying to make up for being away. The dishwasher has been run and needs to be emptied. The first load of laundry for the day is in the washer. I'm working on figuring out dinner for tonight. I've dealt with an issue pertaining to our closing on the other house for tomorrow. And while it's my normal routine, I feel a little bit more relaxed with it today. I don't feel ready to take on the world, but I do feel rested enough to tackle whatever today throws at me. While it was nice to get away, it was so nice to come home too.

Like the sound of bubble wrap

I went to my doctor yesterday. It was kind of an emergency visit. I had an appointment for RIGHT NOW actually, but because I had CHEST PAINS (OMG I'm only 36, no heart attacks thankyouverymuch!) they fit me in. I've had a stiff neck for about a month and changing my pillow didn't help. I couldn't turn my head (hence how the children get so much by me these days!) and my left shoulder was throbbing. Generally, I was a mess.

I'm blessed that my primary care doctor is a DO, not an MD, which means that when my back needs an alignment, I can see him for it. It's been awhile since he's done much to my back because of my lower back issues that make me scream when he touches it. But yesterday was a different story. With every manipulation that he did, it was like listening to someone play with bubble wrap. Snap, crackle, pop. Over and over again. Only my hips refused to work themselves back into place, which is ok since that would force him to really work my lower back and with no cartilege in between a couple of vertebrea, the pain would have been too intense.

Anyway, today I'm feeling a bit better. No more chest pains. The muscles around my spine are SORE. My left shoulder still hurts, but I'm hoping in a day or so it feels better. He must have done something because today my fingers aren't numb. I may go back again Friday before I go scrapbooking for the weekend. Then again, I may wait. At least I wasn't having a heart attack.

Can I tell you how stressed I was at the thought that I was having a heart attack? I was completely FREAKED OUT. I kept hugging and kissing my kids yesterday and tried to keep my yelling to a minimum. I had all sorts of scenarios running through my head that were so depressing. It was almost too much to deal with. I can't imagine not being here to see them grow up. As much as they are making my hair much too gray, I can't even think about not being here for them.

On the up side of things, my husband will be home on Thursday and Friday which gives me a little time to myself. I'm chaperoning Drew's field trip to the Planetarium, getting a haircut (ALONE) and going away for the weekend with some girlfriends to scrapbook. A little rest will soothe the soul. Not sure what it will do for the back muscles though!

Parenting Fail?

I told my husband yesterday at lunchtime (why yes, he comes home for lunch almost every day) that a monkey could do a better job parenting our kids than I do. Everything with the kids these days is a battle~no one puts away toys, they're constantly fighting, the twins fight me on every diaper change or clothing change. It's enough to make me want to curl up into the fetal position and stay in bed all day. Instead I eat a lot of chocolate, drink too much coffee and count the hours until Doug is home and I can put the kids to bed and have a drink or two. Mother of the Year I am not.

Which belies the question~am I a parenting failure? Do I expect so much of my kids that I'm setting them up for failure? Am I so overwhelmed at the sheer volume of WORK it takes to raise these kids that I am screwing them up so much they'll need therapy when they're adults? Of course I don't have those answers, because if I did I wouldn't be writing this post and I'd be RICH RICH RICH from writing parenting books and going on talk shows like Ellen and Oprah.

We have been trying to encourage the older kids to help out around the house because quite frankly, we just can't do it all. By encourage I mean bribing them with money for doing certain chores. And it's a colossal failure. Instead of doing the chores on the chore chart, Meg will just pick A chore to do, and of course it's the one that just involves scooping four litter boxes. If you ask her to clean up her room (the deal is for every day her room STAYS clean she earns money), she throws herself on the floor and screams at you. We're not neat freaks by any stretch of the imagination, but we cannot walk in her room and neither can she.

So, should I just take on that chore for myself during naptimes? Or do I let her room rot under all the crap she refuses to put away? If I take on the chore myself, am I just teaching her that if she is lazy enough, Mama will do it all for her? Or is it just easier on my sanity to realize that she is lazy and that to save myself from further torture, I should just clean it myself? Or maybe that she isn't lazy, but the task is just too overwhelming for her very smart 8 year old mind to handle. Again, if I had the answers, I wouldn't be here.

All I do know is that I feel like I'm failing my kids. I don't want to be constantly stressed out. I want to have a harmonious house and maybe even a clean one at that. I want my kids to respect my decisions instead of telling me no all the time. Am I just asking too much? Should I just let it go and realize that I'm never going to get what I want? I think I'll have some more chocolate and try to figure it out.

Move along, nothing to see here

I don't think I'll ever manage NaBloPoMo. It's been a week since my last post; I can't imagine posting every day. You'd think with four kids I would have excitement. Or thrills. Or more broken bones. But really, my life is SSDD (that's same shit, different day).

Since our lack of electricity excitement last week, I've spent the majority of my time trying to tidy up my house, doing laundry, taking kids to the doctor. I have spent lots of time being yelled at by my eight year old because "I never help her with her homework" or because I make her do chores. Lots of time. Being yelled at. I can't wait for the teenage years.

We got another 8 inches of snow on Monday. That makes almost THREE FEET of new snow in a week. I can picture us on Memorial Day with a snow pile on the front lawn. Last year during April vacation we were shoveling down the pile to melt, while we were planting our vegetable garden. How's that for irony?

I had a doctor's appointment yesterday for my annual exam. How's that for fun? She asked me how it's going, being home with all the kids. I looked at her and said "it's incredibly difficult." I used to be all "oh it's great" but in all honesty, being home with three kids under 4 every day is just plain difficult. It's exhausting. That doesn't mean I don't love them. It just means I could really do with some more free time, away from them. I did spend all day Saturday out with friends, scrapbooking, and it was sheer bliss. Doug said I was a bit giddy before I left and that wasn't very fair. I think I'm allowed a bit of giddiness when I know I'm going to get 9 hours to myself. He only gets to spend a few hours each day with the kids; actually, probably only 3 hours out of the day does he get to see them (oh that was grammatically poor, now wasn't it?). I think I could use more 9 hour days to myself.

So that's a tidy little roundup of the boringness (apparently that's a word!) that is my life. Anyone have anything exciting going on?

Open Letters (edited)

Dear State of Maine Lawmakers:

Please, for the love of cookies, do NOT cut the school day to a 4 day week to save money. Study hard before you make this decision. While I'm thrilled that you're not considering making a 4 day week mandatory, the whole idea is awful to a parent of a 2nd grader who loves going to school more than anything in the world. I can barely explain to her why she has to stay home on a snow day, let alone the thought of explaining to her that in these tough times, her beloved State wants to take away school from her. While she thinks that being home with me is awful, imagine those kids who'd have to spend a day in daycare if their parents could afford the cost, because the politicians have their heads up their ()$*#( and think that eliminating an entire day of school would make a huge difference. Think long and hard on this one State of Maine Lawmakers; I'll be watching you.

Sincerely, Mama to a 2nd grader

***

Dear Megan,

I am not a mean Mama. Creating rules and order in our house is not an attempt to piss you off; it's an attempt to stop all the yelling I have to do day in and day out because you DO NOT LISTEN to me. You are the oldest, and trust me, it's no fun, but when I ask you to set a good example for your brother and sisters, I mean it. I do not mean that you have to be perfect, but I would love, love, love for you to do ONE DAMN thing that I ask of you and do it consistently. You're going to be 8 years old in a few days, and it's about time that you stop telling me that you "don't know why" you always act up and get it together kiddo. You're so well behaved in school, but when you get home you ignore me and Dad, and you run up and down the halls, you yell, you throw toys. This is NOT the behavior of an 8 year old; this is how Annie and Izzie act. Trust me, I do NOT enjoy parenting 4 kids who act like they're all 2. I would rather eat razors than yell all the time, so please stop acting up and be good.

Love, your very tired and frazzled Mama

***

Dear Annie and Izzie,

Where to begin? First and foremost, the gates that keep you off the stairs and out of the computer room are there for a REASON. They are not there for you to push aside in order to get into said computer room or up said stairs; frankly, we've had enough broken bones for a lifetime and I don't want you getting hurt. Secondly, throwing toys is NOT an acceptable form of play. I don't think I need to explain that any further, do I? Third, and most important, is that we have an established naptime for a reason. Please use that time wisely, instead of stripping off your clothes and/or diapers, throwing your blankets and stuffed friends out of bed, and NAP for crying out loud. This "let's take an hour and a half of settling down before we nap for maybe an hour" is turning your once loving Mama into a crazy woman. Cut the crap.

Love, your very tired and frazzled Mama

***

Dear Drew,

Thank you for helping me with the laundry. As I type, you're sweeping the kitchen just because. And I appreciate that so much. But please, clean up your room so I don't kill myself on a car/Batman/pirate/book/stuffed friend. And please stop picking up the cats while they're sleeping. The constant scratches on your face/hands/arms are a sure sign that they don't like it. While you're at it, stop fighting with Megan. I know you love her more than the moon and stars, so instead of antagonizing her, go read a book or color or PICK UP YOUR ROOM.

Love, your very tired and frazzled Mama

***

Dear Mother Nature,

Are you fricking kidding me? Another storm? With another foot or more of snow? Get over yourself. Yes, we all know that it's winter and you love to make snow. But come on and give me a break. Paying my plow guy is going to break the bank again this winter.

Sincerely, Kristin

****

Dear Doug,

If it snows tomorrow, please consider working from home (see above letter). I am almost certain that one more day with all four children stuck inside will send me over the edge. Need I say more?

Love, your very tired and frazzled wife

***
(Edit)
Dear American Girl,

Why on this great earth should I pay an extra $19.95 for quicker shipping? Are you kidding me? All I want is my kid's birthday present from her grandparents to arrive by Friday. I should not have to pay $19.95 extra for that. And if you're going to send out my product at $7.95 shipping and allow me to track it on UPS, please give a delivery date, ok?

Sincerely, Mama to a soon-to-be-sad birthday girl if her present isn't here on time

Ugh, I hate titles

Have you ever watched Jeff Dunham? He is a ventriloquist. Google him if you've never heard of him. He is fantastic. One of his puppets is named Walter. Walter is a crotchety old man who hates his wife. I'm starting to feel like I've become Walter.

Holy shit have I been CRANKY. My posts are all whine, whine, whine, bitch, bitch, bitch. Now, yes, I am in MAINE, in the dead of WINTER, with four children, so I suppose I'm allowed a wee bit of venting. But all the time? Umm, no, that is not a good way to win friends and influence people. So, I apologize if my constant bitching is a turnoff.

I had some friends over to scrapbook yesterday and it was so much fun. I laughed. I drank coffee. I even put a few pictures in my Christmas album. My friend Emily and I were talking about The Mentalist (on CBS, 9pm Tuesdays) and how HOT HOT HOT Simon Baker is (Cass, you know what I'm talking about). It was so nice to just sit and chat with friends that I wish I could do it more often.

This Friday my baby girl is turning 8. Hard to believe it's been 8 years since she was born. She gets the honor of my last special cake of the winter, a butterfly. We gave her the option of skipping hockey practice Friday night to celebrate on her birthday, or go to hockey and celebrate on Saturday. She's going to hockey Friday night and we're celebrating with family on Saturday.

So, I'm hoping this week brings more smiles and less bitching. I would love to rid myself of the black cloud I feel following me around all the time. Anyone have ideas for how I can get rid of it?

The Power of Paper

I am always looking for something to keep my kids occupied. Meg and Drew could watch tv until their eyes turned to goo and oozed out of their heads, so of course that is a big no-no in this house. As it is, when they do get an hour or so of tv, they turn into complete lunatics when it's over, literally rolling on the floor yelling for more, or running around the house screaming at the top of their lungs. Oh yes people, I've raised idiots.

Imagine my thrill when I discovered the power of paper. No, not reading (puhleeze) or drawing, but the power of the c-a-t-a-l-o-g. FAO Schwarz, Walmart, The Land of Nod, Fisher Price all hold amazing power over all of my kids. The FAO Schwarz catalog is so worn from constant reading by Annie and Izzie especially that I had to take it away from them, lest they completely ruin it. Today's mail brought another Fisher Price catalog and Drew was thrilled, until the contents were the EXACT same as the other catalog we already had. The kids sit on the floor and slowly turn the pages, looking at all the fantastical things that these catalogs hold. You would think that we have never taken them to a mall for crying out loud.

So thank you miss mail lady (yes, we have a FEMALEMAN) for bringing a few small moments of peace to my home. I shall miss those catalogs when they're shredded or in the recycle bins in the garage. Life will be back to my regularly scheduled chaos then.