Where's Ethel?

How hard is it to find a pale blonde 5 year old in her bedroom? 

Today it was a little tough.

Can you see the 5 year old in this picture?

Where's the princess?

I couldn't either.

After further investigation, Daddy and I figured we'd lift the box.

Sleeping princess.  In a box. 

I love that little girl.

A little sunshine for your day!

I started this blog in January having no idea what I was doing.  I thought I'd keep track of the madness in my mind, share some family stuff with my mom far away, and write about the ins and outs of this and that. 

Who'd have thunk that less than two months later I would receive a little sunshine from another reader who stopped in here and enjoyed what they were reading!  Really, an award for me?  Well, that's just what I received this morning, from Kathy at Real mom. Real life.  I am so flattered!

Wouldn't you love to spread a little sunshine in the life of another blogger?  Go ahead, give it a shot!  Here's all you need to do!

Please pass it on!

• Put the logo on your blog or within your post (right click and save),
• Pass the award on to 12 bloggers,
• Link the nominees within your post,
• Let the nominees know they have received this award by commenting on their blog.

It doesn't have to be 12, you can send it to 4, or 8, or 10, as long as you pass it on and spread some sunshine.  Here is who I'm passing on a little sunshine to, in no particular order:


Chicken Counting 
Floortime Lite Mama
LazyCatSleeps
Life in HD
Mamain pajamas
Me and Mine
Shoes, Art & Motherhood
One Stop Boy Shop

Enjoy your sunshine, everyone!

Tea Party Time

When Ethel turned four, I told her that she would no longer be required to spend two hours of the day being reminded by Mommy to stay on her bed, lay down, be quieter, or otherwise restricted in such a way.  One of my gifts to her on her fourth birthday was to make what used to be rest time {a.k.a. nap time} into quiet time.

See, Mommy needs a break, too.  I figured as long as she stayed in her room for at least as long as Fred was asleep, it would suit us both just fine, and I was right.  I can even say that every couple of months, I enter her room to find her curled up somewhere in her room sound asleep.  We both love quiet time.

During her quiet time, Ethel plays with just about everything in her room.  I.mean.everything.  This has proven for some challenging clean up times, but oh the party she has during that beloved quiet time. Today it was a tea party.

Some party guests

As any good hostess would, she provided her guests with a beautifully draped tablescape, complete with Princess, pink table cloth (ie: blankie), and amphibious corner decorations (note the frogs, turtle, and lizard at the corners). 

Would you like some tea?

She was so proud of this tea party.  She came tearing out of her room and sweetly asked me if I'd come and see what she'd made.  Quickly, she showed me "this is where I sit", and looked to me as little girls do to their moms, hoping I wouldn't be upset with her for making a mess, using a blanket over a box, or something silly like that.  I couldn't help but smile and beam at how wonderful this tea party looked.  She gave me permission to photograph the event, and posed for a picture.

She poured her guests each some tea, explaining to me who each of them was, making note that she had misplaced the large blue plate, "...but that's OK, I'll find it later", again looking to me for approval.  We smiled at each other and I took in those beautiful blue eyes, filled with innocence and imagination and pride.  I remember having tea parties with my animals and dolls.

I left her to her party, and she talked and played and enjoyed her tea with her guests.  Not long later, I could tell the party was over, and she'd gone into the bathroom to get a drink of water for herself.  The animals had all been excused from the table.  I went in her room to make sure everything was OK.

I am rather glad I didn't stay for the party, in case this would be my fate, too...

"This is where the animals live"

I have to add...today is one of those days I mentioned..

All aboard!

I wanted to toot my own horn for a minute.  I'm so proud of how these invitations turned out!  I never imagined they would be this cute!

Some girlfriends and I get together periodically and scrapbook together.  This past Saturday we had an all day crop and it was tons of fun.  We all pitch in and give each other tips, feedback, and share supplies.  Saturday, my friend, Christine, brought her Cricut.  Her what? you ask.  Let me tell you, this thing is the bomb!

The Cricut is a personal electronic paper cutting machine.  It has brought all kinds of paper crafting to a whole new level, allowing users to add dimension to their crafts like never before.  If you're not a crafter or scrapbooker, I won't bore you with details, but if you are, I tell you that you have to check this thing out.  Seriously.  The variety of fonts, images, and shapes that you can cut is amazing.  All I can say is that you must check it out.

So Saturday I'd planned to create some invitations for Fred's upcoming birthday.  I knew we were going to invite a few of his friends to join us at a local model train show, and figured I'd use some colored card stock to cut into shapes and make some train images for the invites.  I wasn't exactly sure how I'd do it, but then Patty mentioned that she'd brought a bunch of Cricut cartridges with different stuff on them.  Then one of the girls found just what I was looking for, trains and train tracks!

Long story short, the invites are the result of a bunch of Cricut cutting and some creative use of colored paper from a cheap pack I'd picked up at a craft store ages ago.  I'm so tickled that they turned out as well as they did, and am very proud of them!!

Me time, week 6

I was pretty tired as I departed for my time at Panera this week.  I spent the bulk of Saturday scrapbooking with friends, and got home some time around midnight.  I knew that this would be one morning when coffee would be a must.

When I got to Panera, the parking lot wasn't any more crowded than I'm used to, but inside was a different story.  Sure, I'd gotten a bit of a late start, about half an hour later than my normal time, but I don't think my timing had anything to do with how crowded it was.  Just a few different groups of people this morning.  The first thing I noticed was that one of the tall tables by the front window was hosting a group of ladies out for morning fare.  I could see them as I walked from my car.  They were having a great time catching up and telling stories, I could tell.  As I entered the restaurant, I tried to judge the best spot to sit, given how crowded it was.  Not an easy choice.  I didn't want to sit in an isolated booth, and the comfy leather chairs in the corner were taken.  I could have gone all the way to the back to one of the little 2-seater tables, but, prefer to be where the action is.  Luckily, the carpeted area near the front wasn't full, and the table where the man in the yellow sweater had been before was empty.  Either I'd missed the man in the yellow sweater, or I got there first.  Either way, it didn't take me long to decide on that small table against the half wall.  Should I sit first, then order?  Nah, I'm not that bold yet.  I ordered first.  Just a coffee for now.  I ordered my standard grande, not choosing, again, to ask about the mug.  Just not important this time.  One thing I did learn is that there is, indeed, a hole in the counter for trash!  I'd been taking my empty sugar packets and stirrers over to the trash bins by the door all this time, and lo and behold, there's a trash bin right there between the sugar holder and the napkin dispenser.  I'm really getting the hang of this, I think!

Aside from the ladies at the tall table, the two gentlemen who'd sat there two weeks ago were on the bench seats against the wall.  I think they recognized me, and we exchanged brief eye contact and a quick nod.  I sat facing the door, so my back was to them.  I hoped they didn't mind. 

I brought Twilight with me this time, hoping for some mindless reading that wouldn't make me feel too frustrated when having to read passages over and over again.  I haven't read any of my Healthy Selfishness in just over a week, but, hope to get back on that wagon soon.  I got my coat off and it hung perfectly on the back of my chair, just barely touching the floor.  One thing I can't stand is getting up and tripping over my coat when it pools on the floor.  I settled in with my coffee and my book, and took a quick look around.

Not long after I seated myself, the ladies at the tall table finished up.  I could tell they didn't just roll out of bed, this was something they'd planned to do and they dressed for the occaision.  Well, most of them.  None were dressed in Old Navy snowman fleece pants (I have the same ones, that's how I know) and flip flops like one gal that I saw stroll in some time later.  Most were in jeans, nice sweaters, that kind of thing.  One lady was wearing yoga pants, they were cute.  Until she turned and faced my direction.  Please explain to me why you would put rhinestones on a pair of yoga pants.  Seriously.  An intricate flowery or paisley pattern in rhinestones rested just below her hip, high on her thigh.  Honestly, she looked casual and comfortable, but, not sloppy, but the rhinestones did nothing for the yoga pants.  If you wanna dress up your yoga pants, I'm thinkin' that's not the way to go.  But what do I know, I showed up my first week there in a an old sweatshirt, hand me down jeans, and 8 year old shoes.

I was too comfy in my chair to try to relocate myself once the ladies vacated the tall table.  Plus, with there being that many people in the restaurant, I did feel like I'd be hogging space without necessity since there's just one of me, and the tall table seats at least six.  So I stayed parked at my table along the half wall. 

Shortly after I was all situated, I noticed a woman, likely in her late 50's, roaming around the carpeted area looking for a spot to park.  I thought, at first, that she would be meeting someone because she rearranged the four chairs around one of the tables where she'd placed a book and her keys.  Then she went over by the counter, then came right back and collected her things from that table.  As she breezed by me, she said, very kindly and with a smile, "You're in my favorite spot".  I must have really thrown her for a loop!  I lightly replied, "I beat you to it, I guess", to which she responded, "Oh, no, that's OK, there's another fine seat right here", and she perched at the table behind me.  I guess the man in the yellow sweater was holding a coveted spot, and now it was I in the coveted spot.  Very nice.

While we were exchanging our quips about my table, the Alaska lady from a couple weeks ago arrived.  She was walking with a pronounced limp, and I don't recall her having that last time I saw her.  You may recall that she is one of the three ladies who know the pulled back guy.  She had a different bag with her today, sporting a blue Le SportSac straight out of the 80's.  Very cute, but, it's been years since I've seen a Le SportSac.  She put her things down, went and ordered, and retured to her table with a friendly nod in my direction before she sat with her back to my table.  As she sat down, she greeted the two gentlemen on the bench seats, addressing them by name.  I hadn't noticed in the past that they'd ever greeted each other. 

The three ladies were only two again this week, but there was no mention of the third lady when number two arrived.  The second lady also mentioned the Le SportSac when she noticed her friend's bag, agreeing that it was a cute little bag.  Before I knew it, the two ladies were flitting from one topic to another in conversation, and suddenly I heard the first lady shuffling a deck of cards.  I turned slightly to see a cribbage board on the table between the two ladies.  As they began to play they also discussed some online game that they both play, and they each shared their strategies for playing the game.  Then the second lady went and ordered her bagel, and upon her return commented on how Wendy, one of the girls behind the counter, toasts the bagels perfectly every time.  Then the two ladies giggled about how wonderful it is to be regulars.  Ah, they're officially regulars.  I wonder when I will qualify as a regular. :)

Well, I didn't really come alone, I did bring Bella and her twisted crew from Forks.  She recently returned from a trip to the beach with some friends, and had a terrible dream about a friend becoming a wolf.  I have to admit that I'm enjoying the book, and I think it's a good thing that it's such an easy read.  Riveting, no, but, easy to read and allows me to escape from time to time.  I am clearly not going to be decorating my home with Twilight garb, but, I can see myself reading the series by the end of 2010.  I wish I could say that I can see myself joining a team as so many other readers of Twilight have, but, that's not really how I roll.  Anyway, I admit to having been a bit envious as Bella was able to lay out and fall asleep on the lawn on one of the few sunny days where she lives.  I wish I could sit still for that long. 

Back at Panera, I filled quite a bit of time getting lost in Twilight, despite having to read and reread passages as I progressed in the story.  I wasn't quite as distracted as I was two weeks ago, but, I did have a low level of difficulty keeping focused on the book.  I guess it didn't help to be hearing the bagel cutter just over the wall from me, or the shuffling of cards at the table next to me.

I wondered about the pulled back guy when I realized it was almost my time to head out, and he still hadn't arrived.  The two ladies had talked about all kinds of things, including the second lady's husband who is apparently nearly blind and seeking treatment for his diminishing eye sight.  Apparently his failing sight is one of many health related dramas in her family along with a chest cold she's been dealing with, among other things.  Not to disappoint, the pulled back guy finally arrived.  I suddenly felt like a part of their small group as he chose a table next to the ladies, nodding in my direction and flashing a friendly smile as he approached the table he chose.  He's fast.  He had his laptop out, coat off, and was all booted up before I could even turn to see where he'd sat down.  He's got a cool little net book, and I was almost going to ask him how he likes it but I'm not ready to directly engage any of the regulars just yet.  He and the second lady quickly discovered that they have this chest cold in common, and pulled back guy tried to garner some credit for spreading it since he's been wrestling with it since the beginning of the year.  Ah, the pleasantries that are exchanged over coffee.

I was soon getting a little bored with Bella and figured that since my neighbors had so much chatting to do, and cribbage to play that it was time for me to exit the building.  Joking that I must have been leaving because of them, the second lady and pulled back guy made a couple funny quips about my departure being due to something they said, to which I smiled and gently commented that it was just my time to head home.  We all greeted each other a good day, and I headed to the table where I would refill my coffee.

At the table, there was a girl in a bright pink jacket.  You know, it's not very often that someone wears a bright color around here, so this was a welcome sight to see.  It's true, the fashions around this area are drab, mostly gray, black, brown, and muted colors when they are worn.  This girl was bold enough to splash the scene with a vibrant, almost neon, pink.  I complimented her and told her what a pretty color her jacket was, even though I really don't like pink.  It was the fact that she wore such a fun, bright color that really made the impression on me.  She thanked me, we refilled our coffees, and I left the building.

On the way home, I stopped at JoAnn Fabrics to pick up some additional prizes for the prize bag that I've compiled for Ethel.  She has done an amazing job with her responsibility chart, and I can't tell you how much better things are since we've had the chart.  We rarely argue about getting things done, and she actually enjoys reaching all the goals we set forth for her each week.  For something so simple, it's made a huge impact in our house.  I can't wait to get one for Fred.

We had a busy rest of the day after I returned home.  Ethel had a birthday party in the afternoon, then we had dinner at a family friend's house in the evening.  All in all it was a great day, despite the lack of sunshine and impending snow storm.  Any day spent with family and good friends is a great day in my book.

Who's paying attention?

I just have to get this off my chest.  I am just bothered by people who assume that the library, rec center, play ground, or wherever they are gives them a free pass to not watch their children.  Allow me to vent a little, if I may.

The kids and I returned to the libary yesterday to return our borrowed books from our last visit.  We got there just in time for the story time, which we've been to once or twice in the past.  To the kids' delight, we ran into a classmate of Fred's, too, making it twice as fun.  Before beginning, the story teller made note of some general things about story time, including two instructions - 1) keep your children near you, and 2) don't let the kids wander to the front of the room, where there are some potential dangers.  Pretty basic, no?  Apparently it's not.  It seems that some moms feel that story time is a great 30 minute block of time when they can sit on the floor and let their toddlers wander around without direction.  Most of the moms managed to keep their kids from taking off, but, one mom in particular just sat on the floor while her son (probably about 18 months) wandered past the story teller over toward the cart with the radio/CD player and other electronics on it.  Finally, she popped to her feet and meandered over to her son, gently nudging him to return to their spot on the floor.  Did she take his hand, pick him up, direct him with a gentle hand on his back to guide him?  Ah, no.  It happened three times.  Three.  OK, seriously, we can't hold his hand, encourage him to watch, listen, and participate?  Wow.

After story time we headed into Kids World to explore and find some new books to check out.  The kids each found a puzzle or table game, and took turns on one of the computers which is now loaded with a Thomas the Tank Engine themed game.  I kept my eyes on them, watched for them when they looked around for me, but still was able to scope the aisles for a couple of books that I thought they would each enjoy.  In my travels down the aisle, I noticed two young girls sitting on the floor with a pile of books between them.  The girls were maybe 1 and close to 3, if that.  I remembered the two girls from the story time, where their babysitters sat on their cell phones texting and doing anything but paying attention to the story teller.  Well now their baby sitters were parked in two nearby chairs reading magazines and chatting.  What were the girls doing?  Taking all the books off the lowest shelf and piling them up between them.  I looked at the sitters and told them that the girls were just dumping the books, and they casually glanced over, said something to the kids in their native tongue, and went back to their magazines. 

Am I the only one thinking this isn't right?

So today we chose to escape the house for an hour and go to the local rec center and play in the ball pit.  This is the greatest secret around here.  For $1, your child (age 3 and up, ssshhhh, don't tell that Fred isn't quite 3!) can play in this cool ball pit for about an hour (a little longer if it's not crowded).  There's a slide, several tunnels, and of course tons of brightly colored balls to jump into.  It's a blast, and always gets the kids nice and tired.  When we arrived there were three kids in the ball pit, a toddler girl, and two boys who looked about 4 and 5/6 years.  Their moms were sitting on the chairs along the wall, and when we arrived one of the moms was scolding her toddler girl for throwing balls.  This little girl looked to be about 2 or 3 at most, and her mom was in her face demanding that she repeat that she would stop throwing balls.  After she was done, the little girl returned to the pit and the mom returned to her seat next to her friend, apparently the mom of the two boys.

Ethel and Fred were excited that there were other kids in the pit, and literally dove right in.  I had brought a magazine and my coffee, figuring I'd maybe read a little while watching to make sure the kids didn't get stuck or hurt or something.  By no means was this "me time", this was about us all getting out of the house and giving the kids some physical activity to tire them out.  For the two other moms, this was their time to chat and catch up.  If they heard a whine, cry, or complaint, they yelled at the kids to stop whatever it was that caused the whimper.  The toddler girl had a sippy cup and asked for a drink maybe twice, each time to received, "You can't be this thirsty, what's your problem?".  Then her mom propped her up on her knee showing the other mom her very curly hair, saying, "Your hair, I just don't know what to do with it, it's such a mess!".  One of the boys was warned to stop throwing balls countless times, until his mom finally decided he had to come out.  She threatened both kids several times with, "Do you want me to call your father?".  The boys cried and pleaded with her not to call him, yet they still continued to not listen to their mother.  She didn't call their father.  They kept throwing balls.  The moms kept talking.  Sigh. 

Just before they left, the toddler girl was crying, and one of the boys was near her.  I could see that she'd gotten her foot caught in some of the flexible webbing that made up the floor of the ball pit, but both moms got up and demanded that the kids all get out.  Toddler girl's mom had no sympathy, simply saying, "What is the problem, why are you crying?".  I let the moms know that I thought her foot had just gotten caught, and their voices suddenly became sweet and tender to the little girl.  They finally left, and Ethel and Fred both said, "Wow, it's quiet without those crying kids!  They were wild".  From the mouths of babes.

A short time later, two young girls, ages 3 and 4, entered without a parent.  Hm.  It was a couple of minutes before their father entered, on the phone.  He took their jackets, and shoved them off saying, "Go be crazy!".  The girls cautiously entered the ball pit, and their dad left the room to sit and talk on the phone in the adjoining area where he could watch them through the wall of windows.  Ethel and Fred quickly got to talking to the two girls, and before I knew it I was listening to Ethel tell them her name and her brother's name, ask the girls their names, then they ran down all their ages (the four are 2, 3, 4, and 5, how cute).  The girls' father never entered the ball pit room while we were still there.  I walked around several times making sure everyone was playing nice, and just to check on Fred when he got stuck in a tunnel or something.  The father was planted firmly on the steps outside the ball pit room, talking on the phone.  The younger girl kept leaving the room to go see her Daddy, and at one point he shoved her back into the ball pit room, sternly telling her to go play.  She reluctantly returned, staying close to her sister.  After being there about an hour, Ethel and Fred and I packed up to go home.  Sadly, the father didn't go into the ball pit room until we were suited up and out of there.  He was still on the phone.
As I loaded the kids in the car, I saw the father and two girls coming out to their car, he was still on the phone.  OMG!!  What is the deal with this guy? 

OK, I know we all have those kinds of days.  I know that we can't watch the kids 100% of the time.  We can, though, put some effort into it.  The library, the ball pit, the park, none of these locations are a substitute for supervising and guiding our children.  Sure, we all need a break, and it is nice to visit kid-friendly locales where the kids are free to explore.  They still need boundaries, though, and we, their care givers and parents, are responsible for setting and enforcing the boundaries.  My kids aren't perfect, but even they notice when kids are not following rules and when their parents aren't watching them. 

Trust me, I've had my days when I retreated to a kid-friendly place so I could catch even the smallest break.  Still, it's my job to show my kids how to behave in those places, and how to respect their surroundings.  I just wish more adults displayed that kind of understanding.

OK, off my soap box now!

Me time, week 5

This week I decided to do my me time another day, since today is Valentine's Day.  It's not a huge deal between my husband and I, but I thought it would be nice to spend the day together.  The whole day.  Plus, Ethel is totally into Valentine's Day, so I wanted to be around for the morning at least and give the kids cards and a small token that Nani mailed to each of them. 

Fred woke early again today, a pattern he started in the middle of the week.  This morning he held off until 5AM, so that was a lucky break.  Even being Daddy's day to get out of bed with the kids, I jumped out of bed as soon as I heard Fred open his bedroom door.  Daddy's reflexes are quite dulled in slumber, so I took this one for the team.  Fred agreed to turn on a light and play in his room, and he did so for about an hour and a half.  I have to admit (now that the sun is up and I've had some coffee), he was really sweet as he played with his cars in his room, quoting Dinosaur Train, singing songs, and organizing the cars by color.  I still dozed on and off until he finally exited his room, announcing that it was time to start the day.  He and Daddy brushed their teeth together and headed downstairs.  Ethel was still sleeping in her bed, having gone to bed late after a birthday party yesterday.

I somehow found sleep again and was able to keep my eyes shut and my mind turned off until about 7:30, when I decided to check the morning news franchises.  I'm a Good Morning America girl on the weekends, when I happen to catch the AM show.  It's been a while since I checked in on Bill and Kate, but, they haven't changed much since I last saw them.  Then I figured I'd check on Lester Holt over on Today, and learned about the Olympic happenings I'd missed while I was out last night, and couldn't keep my eyes open for later (sorry Apollo). 

I soon heard some noise from Ethel's room, and found her on her bed, having sorted the goodies from her adorable goody bag from yeterday's birthday party.  A cute Princess purse, one of those little metal ones with the beaded handle, filled with bubbles, some candy, and assorted other trinkets.  She's taken the candy aside, and then asked me to put it in the candy bin I have in the cabinet.  I guess my habit of scavenging the kids' goody bags over the years have paid off, as Ethel readily offered the candy for storage, rather than pulling the covers over her head attempting to hide while eating a Butterfinger.  I dutifully agreed to put the candy away for her, and she opted to play with her goodies instead of joining the boys downstairs and getting some breakfast.

Eventually she conceded and Daddy and the kids had breakfast while I watched a little Teen Mom, 5 Ingredient Fix, and the Biography on Elton John.  I am a sucker for mindless TV, and the ADD lends well to my ability to channel surf and still keep up with each show. :)

Daddy came in about a half hour ago to wish me Happy Valentine's Day, and agreed that I would spend a little more time relaxing before joining the family.  After all, the last four Sundays I was already heading out the door at this hour.  I wiped the sleep from my eyes and headed down to get a coffee.  I was pleasantly surprised to see that Daddy had remembered to turn on the coffee maker for me.  Suddenly, the fact that the dining room light was on (something that would normally irritate me) was a non-issue.  I got my coffee and came back upstairs to find Ethel wearing the Snow White dress she'd worn to the birthday party (and last weekend to the story time), which I'd placed in the laundry basket last night.  None of this bothers me right now.  Rather than walk around the house and nit-pick, as I so commonly do, I am enjoying a relaxing morning.

I realize that the past four Sunday mornings have allowed the kids and Daddy to establish a morning routine which doesn't require whining for Mommy, nor Mommy's intervention.  My house is calm, my family is happy, and anything that needs to be done will be there when I decide to tackle it.  What a gift my alone time, my me time, has given me.  Even if the calm is disturbed, even if Fred has a "I've been up for four hours and I'm crabby" meltdown, I've had this moment to see how wonderful my family is.

I will probably take this weekend off from my me time, and that's fine with me.  I hope the girls behind the counter at Panera understand, and I hope they still have a warm hazlenut coffee for me next week.  I'll miss hearing about what the three ladies did this week, what movie pulled back guy recommends, and seeing the two guys who got the tall table last week.  Hopefully we can all start again where we left off when I return next week.  We'll enjoy our coffee together.  I'll do my reading.  My kids will have their time with their Daddy.  And I'll have my coffee.  Yum.

Goody, more goody bags...

Today the kids had their Valentine's Day parties at the day care.  Ethel, as I've mentioned, is all about hearts, coloring hearts, and giving heart shaped gifts.  She quickly tired of making love fans, unfortunately, so we went the easier route and cut and colored big hearts.  She drew her inspiration from her book, Biscuit's Valentine's Day.

I think Ethel envisioned some pretty large, fancy hearts matted on white, lacy eyelet.  Mommy wasn't quite on board with that vision, and luckily, Ethel is happy to go the minimalist route when it's called for.  This is a skill I appreciate when she changes her plan two days before said craft is required for presentation. 

I cut and she colored hearts for the entire class, many family members, and a few friends.  The sky is the limit when you give a 5 year old a box of crayons and white paper.  I admit, they weren't the most sophisticated hearts she's made, but, they're worth their weight in gold for the effort she put into them.  She worked hard at writing the names of her classmates on each of the hearts, making sure to pick just the right color for each classmate, even using multiple colors in a single name.  She was so excited to bring these hearts to the party.  Fred wasn't quite to keen on the idea of sitting and coloring anything for his classmates, so Ethel assisted and completed his Valentines.

Both kids were looking forward to their parties.  Well, Ethel more than Fred.  Fred thought the party was for him, so I went with it.  When you're two, what does it matter?  :)

This gave me a couple hours of solitary time at home.  It's such a strange feeling to be alone in the house.  It doesn't happen often, and I'm pretty glad for that.  I had a bunch of work to take care of, so it was nice not to have the distraction of the kids playing, fighting, needing to go potty, wanting a toy that's out of reach, or not wanting the other one to be in their room.  Two whole hours.  What's a mom to do?  Well, this mom got some work done.  And some dishes. 

Having gotten work caught up, I chose to leave a little early and head to the school and hang out with the kids for the end of their parties.  When I arrived, Ethel's class was playing Valentine BINGO!  They were in the middle of a game, and all the kids had very intent looks on their faces as they studied their Valentine BINGO cards.




This is when I got to witness Ethel in action in class, doing an activity having to do with reading.  She's bright, she recognizes her letters and a few words when she puts her mind to it.  I could see today, though, that she appears to be drifting off and not paying attention.  She knows just what's going on around her, though.  I'll make time next week to talk to her teacher about watching for sings of ADD.  I want to nip this in the bud.

It was time to go see what Fred and his class were up to.  By the time I got to his room, they were all done with their party and were getting ready to eat lunch.  Fred said he wanted to stay for their lunch, so Kaitlin and I hung out in the room while the 2's had their beef stew and apricots.  Ethel, being my picky eater, chose not to eat the lunch at school today, so we came home and had a sandwich and I went through their bags of loot. 


Pencils, cards, chocolate, and lots of candy hearts.  Fred got a coupon for free bowling, and Ethel made me a keychain.  I got a bookmark and a framed picture of Fred, and Ethel got a cool Valentine with a paper pot of seeds (this one is ultra cool).  The empty tissue box I sent to school earlier this week came back decorated and repurposed as a Valentine treat holder. 

While it's little more than a Hallmark holiday, the kids sure had fun with it this year. 

Opening doors

I spent the lunch hour with my new friend today.  I have to get these thoughts out before they disappear, and they're flowing too quickly for me to hand write. :)

First, she reassured me that I'm in a discovery mode since we diagnosed the ADD.  I'm connecting dots between my present and my past.  The dots have always been there, I'm just adding the connections now, so things I've always known are taking on new meaning for me.  This is, apparently, normal and is a positive step.  Whew!  I mentioned how much of what I remember from my past makes quite a bit of sense to me now.  My Sunday me time was a bit of a challenge because I'd been out later the night before, so I was pretty tired.  It's normal for people to not be at the top of their game when they're tired, and for me it's a little more challenging as I deal with the symptoms of ADD.  Never was that more painful for me than when I was a child.  I don't function well on little sleep, and now that whole thing has come together in my mind.  I wasn't a bad kid, and things I did and said weren't just part of my personality.  There's the key.  I can now recategorize things about myself!  It's not "just how I am" or "part of my personality".  It's a result of the ADD (in many cases), and my personality has been shaped as a result of the way I do things or the way I handle things.  Very intersting perspective.

I went on to talk about my Fancy Nancy day with Ethel this weekend.  Somehow this snowballed and morphed into a discussion about my parents, their parents, and it just flowed from my mind.  I talked about my father quite a bit, which is the first time I'd brought him up to my new friend.  It was interesting how my father from my childhood could have as much to do with my expectations of my husband's role in my life as it does.  I think another door has opened which I should enter and explore what's inside.

I feel less blame on myself as Mother today.  I feel actually that I'm doing a decent job, and I'm doing right by my kids.  I don't always feel that way, but, after my lunch hour with my new friend, I do feel a bit better.  I look forward to another lunch with my new friend, and exploring what's behind more doors.

The struggle of food

Food, in itself, is not the struggle.  Ethel is my mini-me in more ways than one, and one of them is her relationship with food.  This morning I realized how much food is becoming an issue, and it breaks my heart.

Ethel's class did a lesson on foods, studying different fruits and veggies, and tasting things like kiwi, coconut, and green peppers.  Ethel said she liked the kiwi, to my surprise, but nothing else has tickled her fancy.  I was really pleased that she tried any of the foods, let alone liked even one of them.  Guess I'll add kiwis to my shopping list next time I head to the store.

Not thinking anything of it, she's also been complaining over the last few weeks that her "tummy hurts".  Almost every day she tries to protest going to school, but doesn't put up much of a fight when she doesn't win the battle.  I really never put much weight into the complaints, figuring she was just playing on the last time Fred was sick and he said his tummy hurt, or something like that.  This week she's been telling me that she needs a stay home day because she is sick.  She feels her forehead, back of her neck, her cheeks checking for a fever (the way Mommy does).  Last night she was very direct in telling me how sick she was and that she would need a stay home day the next day (today).  Hm.  This morning, the theme continued, but, she relented and got dressed and joined us for a bowl of cereal for breakfast.

At the table, she again asked for a stay home day today.  I wasn't exactly sure where this was coming from, but she insisted that she was sick and her tummy hurt.  Then she blurted it out.  "I don't want to try food".  I didn't think the class was still experimenting and trying new foods as a lesson, so I asked if she meant trying new foods, or eating at lunch.  She answered, "At lunch".  Sigh.

Poor kid.  She's 30 lbs sopping wet and fully clothed.  She's tiny, but, she's healthy.  I have struggled with her diet for a couple of years now.  She's been strong-willed when it comes to food since she was spoon fed.  I've tried all the tips and tricks you read about, all the variations on foods to make them appealing, but, I can't make her do anything she doesn't *want* to do.  I can't make her eat.  I can serve her healthy options, but I can't force the food into her.  I will not shame her into eating, nor will I do it at the risk of her feeling badly about herself for not wanting to try something.  The things she does eat are healthy enough, and she will eat most fruits 'til the cows come home.  What veggies I think she needs, I can and do disguise in other foods, and she's none the wiser.  I feed my child, I feed her well.  I am doing my part.  This is something I've beaten myself up over, but I realize that I am doing all that I can, I'm not doing anything wrong.

So to learn that she is being made to feel badly at school with respect to food makes me very sad.  She said she tried most of the foods, but, she doesn't like them.  She tried peas, but didn't like them.  They even made her try broccoli, she didn't like it.  She literally gags when faced with a food she doesn't want.  I always did, too.  Some people might find it dramatic, but, gagging is a natural reflex when your body is being asked to intake something it doesn't want to accept.  My poor baby is gagging at school. 

I mentioned this to one of the other teachers this morning at drop off because I didn't catch Ethel's teacher.  I will follow up with a phone call to the center, as well.  I just don't want my poor baby going through the battles I did as a child when it comes to eating.  I eat relatively well today, and I know that Ethel will open up her palette to more options as time goes on.  I also know it will take longer if she's continually challenged and asked to try foods she doesn't want to try.

Me time, part 4 (B)

Today's me time posting had to take two entries.  First, I have too many thoughts in my mind to create any single entry that would make any sense to anyone other than me.  Second, I need to focus my thoughts about my progress with ME in their own spot, I don't want to mix them too much with other stuff that goes on in my head.  Three, it's totally unfair to any reader to have to scroll for days just to read about two hours of my life in a restaurant.  So, this is my part B entry for my me time today.

Today I took notes.  I already talked about how hard it was for me to focus today, and taking notes at least keeps me reminded that I had a thought.  So often I have too many thoughts at a single time to keep them straight even to myself, so I agreed to let myself rely on my pen and paper today. 

I got to Panera this morning, unsure of what the morning would bring.  The past three visits, I knew that I was taking time for me, and I really wanted it.  Today I didn't have that entirely selfish feeling about it, though.  I can't pin point it, I can't make sense of it.  I just felt differently this morning (one might qualify that feeling as "hungover", but, I hesitate to use that word just yet, I have felt worse in the past).  OK, move on.

I approached the counter and waited my turn to order, catching the eye of the girl behind the counter.  I can't tell if the staff are beginning to recognize me, and it doesn't matter if they do, but it always feels nice when someone remembers you.  Well, me.  Anyway, I soon realized that the girl's eyes meeting mine might have been a cry for help from the guy in front of me.  The man in front of me stood probably just over 6 feet tall, is probably in his early 60's, and was dressed well, including a nice hat.  You just don't see men, or women for that matter, wearing nice hats that often these days.  A ball cap, usually, but not a nice brimmed topper with a gentle pucker in the top for easy application.  He was holding a book in the crook of his arm, "The Modern Gentleman", and I could see that he was exemplary of the title.  His ability to order food and drink, though, were blatantly lacking.  The poor girl behind the counter had to explain to him that he could order his food from her, she would tell him the total cost, he would pay her, and the food could be collected at the counter to his right.  Now I thought I had issues with ordering in a coffee shop, but this guy made me feel like I was a pro.  I lost count at three times that she showed him where he would collect his sandwhich after it was freshly made to his specificiations.  After repeating that the bread was only lightly buttered, no mayo, she reminded him again where he could find the desired condements should his sandwhich need additional decoration.  Excited to have grasped the concept, he nearly vacated his place in line before the girl behind the counter returned his credit card and gave him his receipt and "your food's ready" light-up square.  After completing the transaction fully, it was then my turn to order.

I decided not to set my sights on the mug today.  I was satisfied with the paper cup idea, and knowing I could take it home with me, and I wouldn't have to get up to refill too often, as I would with the mug.  I just didn't have it in me today to put that much effort into my coffee.  I opted not to order food, I don't like to overachieve on mornings like this.  So I paid my fee and turned to the table with the coffee.  I was shocked, left vulnerable, and unsure what to do.  The hazlenut coffee was not on the table.  Oh no.  Are they not offering it today?  Did I miss something?  Were they cutting costs?  What happened??  Slowly, I got a grip on myself and turned around to see a young guy with his Panera shirt and name tag on.  I didn't bother to read his name, I needed coffee, his name didn't matter to me.  I asked if the hazlenut was brewing, and he flashed a sympathetic smile and told me yes, it would be ready in a few minutes.  Whew!  I relaxed and agreed to wait at my chosen spot until the brew arrived.  For a moment, though, I contemplated the light roast and thought about how much extra half and half and sugar I would add if I went that route, or perhaps I should go to the counter and explain that I don't like unflavored coffee and I would prefer a mocha or a latte or something else that I don't know how to order just for the sake of having something to drink while I hogged a seat in a restaurant for way longer than you should be allowed to do.  Thankfully, none of that action was required, and soon the hazlenut arrived to the table.  I could tell I wasn't the only one who was caught off guard, as I noticed the coffee was tapped almost as soon as the girl brought it to the table.  OK, mission salvaged.

I chose a seat along the wall in the same area I sat in last week.  I realized that sitting with my back to the majority of the action was too uncomfortable for me, so I chose the bench seat along the wall so that I could take in more of the scenery.  I sat close enough to the window that I was able to drink up the plentiful sunshine, despite the fact that my eyes and head didn't seem to be on board with the plan.  My mind and body yearn for a good dose of sunshine this time of year, but, the eye and head team don't often play nice in that sandbox.  Of course, taking them all to the bar last night didn't really do much for getting them all on the same page.  Still, I knew that the sun would be good for me, and I took my place on the bench seat.  I noticed immediately that the two men in this seat last week were at one of the high tables along the window.  Lucky dogs.  The man with the yellow sweater was at the same table as last week, but, the sweater was a different color.  I didn't notice the color of his sweater this week, I hadn't had my coffee yet.  I did notice, though, when he left that his soft scarf was a very pretty buttery yellow, so he did continue the theme this week.  It's a nice color on him, too.  After settling in my seat, I noticed that I probably followed a pack of wolves by the look of the mess on the floor and three small tables pushed together.  I am always amazed at how difficult it appears to be for some people to aim for the mouth, and to succeed in that endeavour.  Laying judgement aside, I kept the seat because it was too much effort to move, and I didn't want to look stupid. 

Ignoring my eyes and their request to be hidden, I stared outside at the softly falling snow.  We're not getting the 2 feet of snow that they got out East, but, there was some snow falling.  It was almost like a movie where the snow is falling slowly just for the sake of allowing the camera to catch its white beauty.  The thought kept entering my mind, "Can you hear the snow falling?".  Odd thought, I guess.  Anyway, I stared at the snow as it fell on the parking lot, and it was very calming.  My eyes won the battle and their cries to make me stop looking out the window were heeded, as I returned my sights on the customers exiting the dining area.  For the most part ,the crowd is dressed pretty well.  I already admitted I'm definitely not a fashion plate, but, that's not to say that I live in the slummy clothes that I was wearing on my first visit here.  I know what's within the acceptable boundaries of good taste and obvious effort when you dress to leave your house and present yourself to the general public.  At least, I would argue that I do.  What puzzles me, though, are people like one woman I saw who gave no impression of effort, and left no doubt that she'd literally just rolled out of bed.  Baggy sweat pants, oversized boots, a jacket two sizes too big, and hair that needed some desperate attention, I couldn't believe that she really left the house and agreed with herself that she looked alright to go out somewhere and eat.  I know it's not the 95th or anything, but even *I* brushed my hair.  I wonder what the man with the hat would have thought.  Or the mid-60's gentleman with two lady friends at a table near the door, wearing their Sunday's best.  Oh well, I guess that's how things are today.  The place is casual, so why put the effort into your own appearance?  I don't certainly mean that one should wear make up, a suit and tie, or go to that extreme, but, at least brush your hair and put on sweats that fit you.  And to the woman with the purse that literally hung to her knee, time for a new purse.  Seriously, no purse was ever intended to hang at your knee.  Messenger bag, look into it.  Thank you.

It wasn't long before the two gentlemen at the tall table retreated to journey on with their Sundays.  One guy grabbed his paper and coffee and headed right for the door.  The other made an obligatory call home before getting up from the table.  After he slowly departed the restaurant, I looked around the area and noticed that I was the only one in the whole area.  Well, besides two women at a table next to the door, but, they were pretty deep in their conversation, so I knew that they didn't notice anything that was going on around them.  This was my chance to try the tall table by the window.  By now, my eyes had adjusted to the sun light and I wasn't entirely comfortable on the bench seat.  Once I got up the guts, I moved to the tall table by the window.  It felt good to be that much closer to the window where I could feel the sun shine on my face.  It was a little more comfortable, too, with the taller seat, firm seat back, and I was able to rest my feet on the seat across from me.  There were some crumbs on the table, but, the two gentlemen before me were definitely neater than whomever had preceeded me at my previous seat along the wall. 

The nice manager, I think her name tag said "Laurie", came by to clean the tables, and asked if I minded her cleaning mine.  I told her that was no problem for me and I tried to move my book and coffe out of her way, and she picked up my sunglasses off the table.  As she went to lay them back down, they slipped from her hand and she joked that she'd just scratched my expensive shades, to which I just had to laugh.  We continued a little joking about the merits of buying inexpensive sunglasses and the inhernt risk of loss and damage when we spend more money.  Just then, the lady in the Alaska sweatshirt who'd just arrived said that she never paid more than $X for sunglasses until she got prescription ones, which she promptly broke.  We three shared some fun blips about cheap sunglasses and where to get the cheapest, but, decent looking, sunglasses.  The Alaska lady went to the counter to order, and Laurie continued on with her duties.  I went back to my book, then glanced out the window to see the guy with the pulled back (from last week) walking toward the store.  Ah, a familiar face.  As he entered the restaurant, he immediately found a spot (where the man in the yellow sweater had been sitting) and then went to the counter to order.

I have to tangent for a moment to note that I don't know that I've ever rested my things before going to the counter to order.  I kind of do it the old school way by entering, ordering, then sitting.  Both the guy with the pulled back and Alaska lady sat first, then ordered.  Hm.

Turns out, pulled back guy and Alaska lady know each other.  It wasn't long before Alaska lady was joined by a pleasant woman in a bright, striped turtle neck, and I realized that these were the ladies from the table beside me last week, who talked about the census.  Ah, this appears to be a regular meeting time and place for the ladies.  It was just me, the ladies, and the pulled back guy in our area, so I was able to hear most of what they talked about.  This added to my difficulty focusing on my book, but I decided not to fight it and just listen to whatever my mind picked out in the room.  It almost seems unfair, too, that I am learning so much about all these strangers and they know nothing of me.  I'm there by myself, yet they are there together sharing snippets with each other, and as a result, with me.  Anyway, this week I found out that pulled back guy has a son of unknown (to me) age, and I believe has a lady in his life expecting a child (his?), is a teacher, didn't vote Tuesday due to oversleeping and time constraints, he doesn't like Melville, wanted the Saints to win the Super Bowl.  Of the three ladies from last week, one was not going to be joining the other two.  One of the ladies borrowed Love, Actually from pulled back guy, which led to a discussion about Love, Actually vs. Gone With the Wind (random); both ladies were rooting for the Colts, and the great things about Netflix.  All this conversation is nice and chatty, but, I get the feeling that these ladies are at Panera for more than just girl talk and seeing pulled back guy.  They're here to make plans, to take action, and make changes in their worlds.  They didn't get to discussing their thoughts on the census before I realized that it was time for me to leave.

I knew I wasn't focusing my thoughts and energy on me, which is the point for my alone time, so I decided to pack it up.  As I did, a man in a Bears hat, blue shirt, and blue and orange vest approached the table of two of the three ladies, and soon sat to discuss the Super Bowl and why he decided it didn't matter to him who wins the game.  He appeared to be alone, had already gotten his coffe, and sat at a table beside the ladies.  His demeanor was almost guarded as he approached their table, as if he was prepared to battle over the football game or the comparison between Love, Actually and GWTW, or maybe he doesn't like Netflix.  Who knows.  I didn't stay long enough to find out.  As I left the restaurant, pulled back guy was engrossed in something on his laptop, the two of three ladies were talking to the guy in the Bears hat, and the man in the hat from earlier was seated near the big comfy chairs reading a book.  I don't recall seeing him leave, but, he must have because his copy of "The Modern Gentleman" rested on the table next to the new book, a very thick piece which he was thoroughly intersted in at that moment.  His hat lay next to the Gentleman book.

I left the restaurant and headed to the store for a few things before heading home.  I'm not sure if the tall table is just right for me, but am willing to give it a try again next time.  The tall table gave me a new perspective, a new angle on the area I sat in.  Perhaps I need to try another spot to get yet another angle, another perspective.  Just as I likely should do in my own life, find a new angle, a new perspective.  My reading, and knowing I have ADD are both my tall table, allowing me to now seek that new angle, that new perspective.  And even a new cup of coffee.

ME time, part 4 (A)

Today I am tired.  I read somewhere that the symptoms of ADD can be worse when one is tired, and today is one of those days for me.  I look back at my past three posts about my me time, and I'm amazed at how well I put my thoughts into words.  Actually, the first week they poured out of me.  The second, I remembered the things I'd noticed and written about the first week, and sort of tried to continue the theme.  Last week I focused more on my reading about healthy selfishness, but I had a focus.  This week, I am quite scattered.  Being tired does wonders on my mind.  I've always required sleep, and as a child was one of those kids that needed sleep more than other kids.  Looking back, I had difficulty with sleep.  I was the kid who kept coming out of their room at nap time asking, "Can I come out of my room now?" over and over and over again.  It's surprising that my mother didn't drink her way through those years.  Then again, maybe she did.  I was always the first one up in our house, but, quickly learned to be stealth and nobody really knew I was up.  I was, and still am on occaision, a sleep walker and/or talker.  Sleep and I have a pretty strained relationship, and having kids didn't help bring us any closer.

So today I am tired because my husband and I got out of the house last night.  We went to see a friend's band play at a local brewery and restaurant.  We chose to eat dinner at the venue, giving us some time to chat, relax, and be kid free for a short time.  It was really nice, and I freely allowed us to spend some money, order a few drinks, and not freak out when the bill came.  We didn't blow the farm or anything, but, normally I would have walked in with limited cash and been very picky about what I ordered.  I let go and just enjoyed myself.  Anyway, we only saw the first set before we decided to head home.  My husband seems to be coming down with the sore throat thing is that caught me earlier this week, and we are going to see friends for tonight's Super Bowl.  We knew a late night last night would mean misery today.  A brief review, if you could call it that, of last night's band - wow!  They are high energy, rhythmically exciting, and put on a great show.  I really wish we could have stayed for the whole thing, and next time we see them we'll definitely plan accordingly.  Aside from a few small things (turn that girl's mike up!), they satisfy their crowd, and you could see the loyalty of their followers in the audience. 

I digress.

I brought my Healthy Selfishness and my booklet on ADHD with me today.  This was my first me time since the official diagnosis of ADD on Thursday.  I knew that today I wanted to prioritize the issues I want to deal with, as my new friend and I discussed Thursday.  I have the assessment, and I read it over a couple of times.  I found it very difficult to see the words on the paper and make much sense of them.  I am to choose three categories from the assessment, and rank them in order of my desire to work on them.  Things like 'easily distracted', 'can't get organized', 'no follow through', are the categories on the assessment.  I am to choose these three, and rank them with respect to which I want to tackle and improve now, then which one(s) to work on for the near future, and lastly the one(s) to work on improving for the road ahead.  It's not as easy as you might think, especially when your brain is going a million miles a minute in a zillion directions, and you aren't really absorbing the information as you read it. 

I did my best, though.  I tried to focus on my reading, and not on the insanely fun people watching that is offered bountifully in the restaurant.  I plugged along, and I think I did pretty well.  I ranked my top 3 categories on the assessment, and ranked three categories for now, three for soon, and three for down the road.  For the now, I wish to work on a) being on the go, b) can't organize, and c) difficulty following through.  I struggle with these and then argue with myself in my mind over them.  I am a Virgo, Type A personality, and my father and his side of the family are probably some of the most anal, organized, and busy people I know.  Everything has a place, everything goes in that place, and that's all there is to it.  I believe and appreciate this train of thought, but putting it into practice causes me great anxiety.  I *am* organized, but, allow disorganization to occur.  Once things are out of order or disorganized, I stumble and struggle to gain control again.  For instance, I put the mail on the kitchen counter when I bring it in.  I put the kids' school papers there, too.  I leave my sunglasses there so I don't forget to take them when I got out.  So the kitchen counter quickly fills up, faster than I even realize.  Once all that stuff is on there, I fight in my head about where to put it and what to do with it.  I sort it on the counter making neat piles (none too high), leaving it all at one end of the counter so it's easily seen.  When I am able to make it appear neater, my whole house feels more put together.  Then I go into my bedroom and see that I haven't put away my laundry, and the feeling of anxiety over the disorganization starts all over again.  Going from room to room, I can feel my anxiety levels change as I visualize all the things that need to be done.  Still, I am unable to do anything about it because just thinking about what needs to be done in a single room is work in itself.  I go to put a bill on the computer desk and see that there is a huge stack of papers, but I was only dropping the bill on the desk on my way to put a toy in Ethel's room, so if I stop to sort the papers and straighten out the desk, now I have forgotten about putting the toy in Ethel's room, then Ethel asks about the toy, so I abandon the pile of papers......I think you get the idea.

Maybe this happens to other people, I don't know.  This is my normal, though.  This is how everything in my life is for me.  Should I sit down on the bed?  If I do, I have to move that pillow sham, and when I get to the linen closet I notice we're almost out of shampoo, so I go to the kitchen where my grocery list is and I add shampoo to the list, then I check the fridge to see if there's something else we need while I'm making the list....in the end, I choose not to sit on the bed.  Just the thought of what it takes to sit there is overwhelming.  Most people would either move the sham and sit, or put it in the closet and return to be seated.  Perhaps this allows you to see why I am rejoicing in knowing that there is something behind my madness, or perceived madness.  I am not using it as an excuse for why I'm not doing things or why my house is always cluttered in my eyes, but, I now know that I'm not just simply neurotic.  I'm not a slacker, and I'm not inherently disorganized.  Quite the opposite.  I'm just so acutely aware of everything in my surroundings that it swallows me and renders me seemingly helpless.

Back to my me time.  {see, even writing things out I jump all over the place!  LOL}  I prioritized my action items from the assessment.  I feel pretty good about how I ranked the items, and look forward to the plan of action that I hope my new friend and I will draw up this coming Wednesday, the next time we meet.  After ranking my items, I returned to my book.  I am reading Healthy Selfishness with a whole new perspective.

I'm at the point in the book where I've identified that I am a Level 3 Self-Denier, suppressing my own needs, wants, and feelings.  I am now reading the strategies for successfully implementing the changes in my life which I need to make in order to halt the negativity that swirls around in my mind with respect to myself.  In turn, this will help me nurture and heal my relationships in all aspects of my life (well, most, the book isn't claiming to change *everything*).  I didn't get very far in reading this morning because I was having difficulty concentrating on it.  The assessment is brief and a little easier to absorb, while the book is more in-depth and needs more of my focus. 

Here's where another issue comes to the forefront for me.  I also have Tinnitus.  My tinnitus presents as a high pitched ring in both ears.  Everyone with Tinnitus would probably describe their presentation in a different manner, but for me the only words I can come up with are 'high pitched ring'.  I have had it for as long as I can remember, so I don't believe that my Walkman or attendance at concerts were the cause, although I can say that they didn't help matters.  Having gone out to see the band last night has brought the Tinnitus out of the gates.  Often I don't notice it unless I stop and think about it, but, I know it's there all the time.  Today, it's there whether I think about it or not.  This makes it tough for me to block out background noise and keep my focus, because once the background noise is not my focus, the ringing takes center stage.  Most people get that ringing in their ears the day after a concert, but it goes away.  Mine never goes away.

I feel good about what I accomplished this morning.  I cut my time short, though, because my husband isn't feeling great, and I wasn't focusing like I wanted to.  Once I let myself admit that it was OK to go, I gathered my book, booklet, and my coffee and headed for home.  On the way I stopped at the store for a couple ingredients for the dip I'm bringing to our friend's place tonight.  I walked in the door at home to the most awesome sounds.  Everyone was in the basement, and the kids were cheering Daddy on as he played a video game.  Ethel and Fred yelled to me to come join them and see Daddy racing his cars.  So I did.  I joined my family, with no anxiety about it, no trepidation, no expectations.  I sat with my kids and watched their Daddy play a video game, and we laughed and cheered together. 

There's nothing like cheering on Daddy with the kids. 

Glamour Girl

This morning I took Ethel to a story hour at the local Barnes and Nobel.  It was a Fancy Nancy story hour with Valentine's Day crafts.  Ethel didn't want to go at first, but yesterday when I told her we could polish her nails, she was all over it!  I knew that some of her classmates would be at the event, and that rather sweetened the deal.

We haven't had any one on one time in a while, so I decided we should make this morning a special one.  I started out by polishing her nails.  She chose pink for her toes, purple for her fingers.  I have to say that doing someone's nails is not easy when their younger brother keeps hopping on and off the bed.  At first, Fred wanted me to do his nails, too, then when I got the brush close enough to his hand, he jerked it back and said, "No thank you".  :)  I think Daddy was happy about that one.

Can you tell she was getting pampered today?

She had already chosen to wear her Snow White dress, so the wardrobe selection was simple.  What came next was accessories.  What should we pick from the dress-up bin?  Well, why not unload the bin to find out?

She finally chose her accessories, for the most part.

The finished product, my Fancy girl.

The story hour was so much fun.  They served sugar cookies with red sprinkles and had Valentine's Day crafts for the kids. They had a bin of dress up stuff for everyone to embellish their already fancy outfits, too.  Not pictured, but I did wear my tiara and chose from the bin a soft purple boa to add to my ensemble. :) 

Everyone was dressed in their fanciest attire.  Ethel questioned whether she was dressed fancier than Fancy Nancy, to which I replied, of course.  You're the fanciest.  And she was.  She wasn't horribly interested in the craft, I think there was too much commotion because ALL the girls swarmed the tables trying to make bookmarks, cards, and color pictures.  That's OK.  Mommy took one for the team and made the crafts, and won't the kids be surprised when they see them on the table on Valentine's Day morning. :) 

After the story hour, and after the crowd thinned, several of the parents and I let our girls explore the books and dress up things while all talked about how we should certainly do a play date in the near future - with or without the kids.  One of the moms even suggested starting a book club, and asked me to spread the word.  Why yes, I think that would be wonderful! 

Being a special day, Ethel and I went out to lunch.  We don't eat out often.  I think the last time we ate out was possibly on our vacation back in September.  Ya, eating out is a huge treat in our house.  Ethel was thrilled that she could have waffles and breakfast stuff for lunch when I took her to IHOP.  Her eyes just about popped out of her head when she saw the "Funny Face" on the menu.  A chocolate pancake decorated like a face with whipped cream, cherries, and chocolate chips.  Wow.  A sugar cookie and now this!  On top of that, I let her order a chocolate milk!  Holy cow!  What could be better????

She was so sweet.  She got compliments on her fancy clothes from several patrons who passed by our table.  It was really nice sitting across the tiny table from my fancy girl.  It's so amazing to sit across a table from your child and realize that they are this grown up.  We were out to lunch, like girlfriends getting together.  She sat nicely, remembered her please and thank yous, and used her napkin.  She asked questions, talked to me about the story time, and told me all kinds of facts about dinosaurs.  Her perfect skin, her beautiful blue eyes, her soft blonde hair, her electric personality, her quick wit, her thoughtful smile, and a mind as sharp as a tack.  Is it wrong to be jealous of your daughter?  :)

At the end of our special lunch, Ethel requested a balloon, because she'd seen some other kids with them as they left the restaurant.  She wanted blue and orange, so I told her to pick one, she could only have one balloon.  "No, Mommy, I have to get one for Fred, too".  She's got a big heart, too.  So we got our two balloons, thanked the kind staff who told Ethel how pretty she looked in her fancy dress, and headed home.

Fred and Daddy had their own time together today, having lunch at a greasy spoon in town.  Fred was more than thrilled when he saw that Ethel had brought him a balloon. 

My princess and my prince.

 

It was really a great day.

The kitchen timer

I'll never forget the egg timer my mom had in the kitchen when I was a kid.  Despite being shaped and colored like a real egg, it was hard to confuse it for one.  With hash marks around its middle like the lines on a football field, it was easy to tell it apart from its likenesses in the fridge.  The egg timer never left the kitchen.  In fact, it often had a place of honor on the counter near the stove, or near the sink between a mama and papa bear salt and pepper shaker set.  By the end of its useful life, it had made its way onto a cute little shelf on the kitchen wall, silently displayed with a few other trinkets which Mom had collected over the years.

My kitchen timer, however, is light years from the old egg timer I remember growing up.  My timer is rarely in the kitchen.  My timer is used in many other rooms in the house.  Mine is digitial.  :)

Regardless of style, type, color or shape, the kitchen timer has proved, for me, to be more than just a useful item to help me boil my eggs to perfection, or to alert me to the doneness of a loaf of bread.  The kitchen timer helped me potty train my daughter, will soon be enlisted to do the same for my son, and helps me keep the family (including myself) on task when we have something to get accomplished.

I admit, I can't remember to remind my child every 20 minutes that it's time to sit on the potty.  Heck, I often don't even remember to go potty myself for large parts of a day.  Seriously, potty training a child takes time, patience, and a lot of trips to the potty.  My body wakes up at about the same time every day, but, for the life of me I can't take my kid into the bathroom at regular intervals without a reminder.  This is where the kitchen timer came in handy for me.  I considered purchasing one of those fun little potty-shaped watches that you can get online for about $10.  You let them wear it (if they'll keep it on) and set the watch so the timer goes off at pre-set intervals, hopefully reminding your child, "Time to go potty!".  Firstly, I didn't ever get around to ordering it.  Secondly, I wasn't sold that my tiny daughter would wear it, nor that it would even stay on her miniature little wrist.  I had visions of that thing sliding right off her arm and dipping right into the potty.  Building on the idea, though, I grabbed the timer out of the drawer in the kitchen, and I don't know that it's spent more than a few nights since then in the drawer next to the stove where it used to reside.

The timer was an amazing help.  Ethel learned how to turn it off each time it went off, and it was the perfect reminder for her to hightail it to the potty.  It wasn't long before she was reminding me to set the timer in the morning.

Right about the same time she was potty training (about 2.5), she entered that wonderful stage of independence, asserting her desire to do everything herself.  As any parent knows, most 2.5 year olds choose their battles carefully in this arena.  They have to put on their own socks on Monday morning getting ready to head to day care.  Or they want to put their own boots on while their older sibling stands there sweating in many layers of snow gear before everyone heads outside to make snow angles.  One of my favorites right now is when my nearly 3 year old, Fred, decides he wants to put his diaper in the garbage.  After I already did.  And he retrieves it from the diaper pail, and reenacts the act of throwing out the diaper.  At bed time.  After fighting to put on his PJ's.  I think you get the idea.

To help speed things up, or at least to set the precedent that time is a limited commodity and is not to be wasted, I pull out the kitchen timer.  You want to get your own boots on?  OK, I'll set the timer for one (or two) minutes, and when the timer goes ding, then I'll help you if you haven't got them on yet.  I will let you comb your own hair, and after two minutes, Mommy will comb it to make sure all the tangles are out.  And so on.  Of course there are still battles, but, I've set the limits, and I hope that they come to realize that we really don't have all day. 

Currently, Ethel uses the timer when brushing her teeth.  I explained that when we eat sugary foods, the sugar can cause cavities in our teeth.  In order to get the sugar off, we have to really focus on brushing our teeth.  We have a timer that sits in the bathroom most of the time, and Ethel actually won't start brushing her teeth at night without it (most of the time).  If she's had candy during the day, she doesn't forget to ask to set the timer.  She likes it to be set for two minutes on nights when she's had sugar that day.  Fred is even starting to get into the spirit of having the timer on when he's brushing his teeth.

The biggest thing I use it for these days is clean up time.  Ethel always was good about picking up her toys and keeping her room pretty tidy.  Some time after her 4th birthday, though, it all fell apart.  She has 2 hours of "quiet time" in her room each day after lunch, and she plays with nearly everything in her room some days.  We spent many a bed time cleaning up and putting things away.  That is until I whipped out the kitchen timer.  First, I set the timer for the duration of her quiet time.  I set it to go ding to signal her that it's time to start cleaning up before she can leave her room.  That's when I set it for anywhere from 3-7 minutes, which is her time limit for cleaning up in her room.  A tactic I borrowed from a friend, I have advised Ethel that anything left out when the timer goes ding will get put in a box and she will have to earn it back.  I can honestly say that in the close to 5 months that I've employed this rule, she has only lost one item, and she quickly earned it back.  Many days when the mess is large, I will allow her a little extra time as long as I can see that she's actually cleaning up, not just playing.  For us, it's worked wonders.

We use the timer to limit the kids' time playing with Splatster!, or for each of their turns playing it.  We use the timer at bed time so that the process doesn't last us all night.  We use the kitchen timer just about every day in just about every room in the house.  It's become a useful tool for us in so many ways.  No longer is the egg timer, or kitchen timer, just for the kitchen.