On my own. Here we go…

The differences between a drop-off and a pick-up….You get all dressed up for the pick-up.  The drop-off is done at the butt crack of dawn (for me) in yoga pants, make-up free, and with your hair in a quick french twist.  The pick-up is happy and maybe a little awkward, depending on how long he’s been gone.  For me it always feels awkward for a day or two because it’s almost like he’s a guest.  I get so used to having to go at it alone.  The drop-off is like “ok. We can do this!” but one or the other will linger with the good-byes cracking the resolve. 

I’m pretty sure that I would be ok until bedtime, that I’d be able to keep it together until then, but also pretty sure my kids will not allow that.  My daughters are emotional monkeys and I know they’re going to milk this for all it’s worth.  M’s birthday is day after tomorrow.  She’s the most emotional out of them all, too.   Last night, one of the twins lost her first tooth.  It’s the first time he’s been home for the first lost tooth and it was down to the wire on this one. 

Pulling out of the airport parking lot Green Day’s Brain Stew comes on the radio.  Pretty fitting.

Really doing it all?

Both yes and no.  I do it all in the sense that there is no one else here to do it.  Does it all get done?  Uh….eventually???  Maybe?  In the long term, sure.

It gets to me sometimes.  I feel embarrassed by my home. 

There’s always a “pile” on the sofa or coffee table next to me because I lack that mobile office/teleportation device that would allow me to store the stuff I need in reach in an alternate dimension.  I’ve got a solution in the works for that.  The bummer is that it doesn’t involve anything so grand as an alternate dimension. 

The loveseat was designed, I’m certain of this, to hold clean laundry.  The recliner doubles as a folding station.  The floor is lightly sprinkled with toys.  There’s a pile of socks the children have been matching. 

The perpetual bottomless pit of dishes stems from the fact that children insist on eating 3-6 times a day.  Sheesh!  You’d think birthing them was enough, but noooooooo.  Now they want to eat regularly, too.  I’m working on getting the little ones to clean-up after themselves.  At their age, that means clearing the table. 

I have an “office”/craft room.  It’s really a storage room at the moment.  I don’t like hiding away from my kids in there.  Eventually it will be a more usable space. 

My bedroom? Yeah, I pretty much go there to die each night for now.  With the hubby deployed, that’s just the way it goes. 

That’s a big thing.  Homeschooling, itself, is huge.  Being at home while your spouse is deployed is huge.  Put the two together and it feels impossible.  Is it truly impossible?  No, because the days keep coming.  It hasn’t ceased to be.  Is it graceful, organized, or pretty to see?  Definitely not.  It’s an awkward stumbling process.  It IS a process though. 

I can’t make it to everything I want to do….park days, dinners, meetings.  Everything that is in my day takes every second of it now.  I feel like I am letting people down when I can’t make it all fit. 

My husband has been deployed for 238 days now.  We are on the downward slope.  Approximately 128 more days before he comes home.  You know you’re an army wife when you are already thinking about how long is he going to get to be home before he has to go again.  This one is harder on the kids and I than previous. 

We do make it to the lessons.  It may be while I cook.  It may be on the living room floor before a family movie.  It may be one on one time with M while the twins take a bath.  With my teen, it’s usually later at night after the girls go to bed that he comes to me with his books, computer, and questions.  It’s possible and it happens. 

At this point, I’m just happy that the days keep going and that stuff gets accomplished.  I’m trying to not focus on the pace or to linger on the things that simply do not fit into my schedule at the moment.  This is just a season in my life and it will pass.

How much do you charge per hour, baby?

Don’t look at me like that. LOL What I’m trying to say is “What is your time worth to you and your family?” 

Many wives and mothers are constantly striving to save a buck.  There’s nothing wrong with that.  I say that there’s no such thing as saving, not really.  To me it’s more of a trade.  I save a dollar here so that it can go there.  Likewise, any time I spend has to come out of my sum total.  Even as I type this, I’m trading a lunch in peace for scarfing bites of my taco salad and praying it doesn’t hit the keyboard.  Many bloggers sacrifice sleep. 

What put this subject on my mind?  Yesterday and today my daughters and I have put together 3 large boxes of home made Valentines goodies to mail to my husband and his platoon.  We did chocolate covered pretzels, cookies, and fudge.  Jumping into this and knowing I need to mail it all out in less than 24 hours from start to finish, I knew I needed this to be fun, positive, and as not stressful on me as possible.  What could be stressful about being in the kitchen with children?  If you knew me, you wouldn’t ask that.  I’m just such a laid back person.  Not.  I’m an OCD control freak.  Anyhow, so I decided that it was worth it to me to go ahead and buy refrigerated cookie dough and squirt tubes of cookie frosting.  Less time spent mixing and measuring and less mess to clean up for me.  COULD I have made those things cheaper from scratch? Yes, and they’d probably have tasted better, too. 

Sometimes I need to save every dime and sometimes it’s ok to spend a tiny bit more and take a short cut.  My daughters love to watch Semi Homemade on the food network.  Every now and again I see something on there that has me shaking my head at the waste (like frozen pre chopped onions…seriously???  Onions are so cheap that there’s no way I could waste money paying extra for them pre chopped.)  I also realize that doing semi homemade gives me a chance to be more present with my family. 

I also have to battle myself when I see things for sale that I could make.  I might could make it cheaper (or maybe not because the costs of supplies have gone up), but would it be worth the time it would cost me?  I love to knit.  Should I knit 3 sweaters for my daughters or just buy them?  I say buy them because by the time I get them finished, my kids would be teenagers. 

So now, before I fill my plate full of “to do”, I have to take a moment and ask myself about the time vs money balance.  What is my time worth?

Children who have too much

Mine.  Yep, they have way too much.  Years ago I figured out part of the issue when I read The 5 Love Languages.  Mine is gifts.  I will give to people until it hurts to show that I love them.  I’d rather give you things that I need than spend time with you.  Sounds bad, but it’s true.  I’m definitely not a hug person.  I like my personal space.  I don’t even like sharing the couch with other people.  It just feels weird.  Select few are allowed in my bubble…my husband…my children.  Other than that, if you get a hug from me then count yourself special and know that I was trying to convey to you in terms YOU can understand what you mean to me.

Anyhow, back to the point.  My children have too much.  I want to give them everything.  I’ve worked hard over the last few years to break this need in me…especially since I realized that their love languages are NOT gifts.  When I realized that my Miriam, like her daddy, had the love language of touch; I thought “Dear God, SAVE ME!”  To someone who doesn’t speak my language, that probably sounds harsh, but if you KNOW me then you see the absolute humor in this situation.  I actually have to schedule time, look at a clock, and double check that everyone has been hugged that day.  Which is how a list making gift giver with OCD speaks the language of touch.  I want more than anything for my children to grow up knowing they’re loved, appreciated, and have an accurate sense of their value. And so I’m learning my children’s language.  Since gifts do not convey love to my children, then neither does taking them away punish my children.  Taking their belongings away has been zero motivation for them to keep their areas tidy.  I keep their belongings sorted into tubs by category.  Dress-up, dollies, barbies, legos, musical instruments, animals, and 1 general toy tote which holds things like doodles and balls.  Before Christmas, I took away the barbies, dress-up, legos, animals, and general toys away to motivate them.  Did they care?  Not much.  Who is being punished? Me.  I want my downstairs hall closet back.  It’s where my vacuum cleaner is supposed to live.  I can’t reach my cookbooks or my carpet shampooer. Boo for me.  

So now I wonder what I should do.  My children are essentially content playing with arts and crafts materials and reading books.  Sometimes they play with the other things, but they could go days without touching other toys and not really care.  I’m trying to decide now which toys to keep and which ones to get rid of.  I think the thing that gets me is that I don’t even know what is “normal”.  Do most children have this many toys? Opinions???

Suspicious minds and broken hearts

Sounds like a love affair gone bad, but not exactly.  Not in this case. 

I’ve had a blessed few years that were relatively drama free.  I guess I was due. 

Earlier this year I had an instance where I felt completely comfortable with some people.  We weren’t joined at the hip, but we were friendly.  It turned ugly.  There was drama.  I was ousted.  I never got to express fully what happened to me and I won’t do that here.  The details aren’t important.  I walked away from that situation seeing one person in a very different light, keeping another at arm’s length because of a lack of trust, and closer to another person.  The thing is, and this is the important part, I’m wounded.  I’m still hurt.  I don’t like how it’s changed me.  I look at all “friends” like I’m waiting for the other shoe to drop.  My trust factor is completely broken and there are very, very few who have my trust. 

Every double edged comment or strange look I see from my acquaintances causes panic in me.  I automatically think “what did I do now?”  Some would call it a guilty conscience.   I would say it’s just like any other abused animal.  I’m waiting to be kicked.  I’m waiting for the people that I let into my life to turn on me again.  The anxiety of it is sometimes overwhelming.

So tonight and every time, I ask myself “worst case scenario? If this person turns on you, what’s the worst?  Are they essential to your life in a personal or professional way?  Do they bless you in any way?  What would happen if they were gone?”  Usually that helps me take a breath and lift my head again. 

I need to heal from this, but I really don’t know how.  I pick-up and go on.  I know that the people who turned me into this walking wounded do not even spare a thought about it.  This pain is my own and the healing will be, too.  Forgiveness isn’t something that comes naturally or easy for me.  So, if it crosses your mind, say a prayer for me that I can lay this burden down.  Right at this moment it is very much an albatross around my neck.

“hard” doesn’t cover it

I haven’t been blogging because, honestly, I’m not even really up to regular conversation lately.  I haven’t seen my husband in 200 days.  I am on autopilot without him and failing miserably.  In somewhere around 65 days he will come home on R&R, AKA cruel and unusual punishment.  Don’t get me wrong, I wouldn’t trade it.  I get to have him home then for 2 weeks and try to pretend that I’m not thinking about that I’ll have to let him go again. So he’s missed being at home for his birthday, my birthday, Halloween, Thanksgiving, Christmas, our anniversary, our son’s 17th birthday (he also missed same son’s 15th, and 16th birthdays thanks to deployment in 2009 and training schedule in 2010…missing birthdays is common but 3 in a row is the army’s new kind of awesome), and will be missing Valentines day, too.  It sucks as much for him as it does for us, but this is the life we live. 

Anyhow, so I have begun setting up an actual school room.  My daughters can’t seem to keep the “toy room” clean so I’m taking some of that unappreciated space back.  I put up unfinished wood shelving to hold all the books.  It’s nice having everything together instead of divided into the three different spaces I had it before.  They have their school table there and a computer desk there.  This will be the first time in my 10 years of homeschooling that I’ll have everything in a dedicated space.  I still need to carry my easel up stairs to the area and hang up my maps and posters.  It’s kind of exciting though.    It just means that when they have company over, that room is no longer free reign for the kiddos. 

I’ve been able to reset my sleep schedule thanks to baby sitting a precious toddler.  I’m now getting up early and therefore tired come bedtime.  I pray the insomnia doesn’t come back. 

The girls have taken to their completely corn free and egg free diet very well.  We’ve adapted.  I’m so thankful for products like EngerG Egg that make allergy free baking easier. 

How you doin’?

And I don’t mean it in the flirty way that the character “Joey” from “Friends” used to say it. 

Being at home when your spouse is deployed is a lot like treading water in the ocean.  Exhausting.  Some days the waters are calm and you think “I can do this”  On other days the waves become just a bit much.  They roll in one right after another.  Just when one wave passes it’s replaced by a larger one. 

I had a couple of good days after Christmas passed, in which I got a lot accomplished and was very proud of myself.  BUT the days prior to that had me closing myself off in the bathroom to cry just randomly through out the day.  Then I’d pull myself together and go on. 

This morning I wake after a night of little sleep.  I had one of those kinks in my neck and was just in general grumpy because I was so tired.  I looked out into the back yard and notice the fence is coming down.  I tried to load the doctor’s website to print out new patient paperwork or M’s dermatologist appointment and the website won’t load.  We’re  5 minutes late out the door for the appointment and I get to my truck to see every interior compartment is open.  My GPS has been stolen and the truck ransacked.  The incredibly nice people who robbed me noticed my husband’s truck tires were low though.  So when they located my tire pressure gauge they were kind enough to leave THAT on my font seat.   Gee thanks, Jack*ss!  So I borrow my neighbor’s GPS to take my kid to the doctor.  We’re late.  I stand in the office getting ignored for a good 5 minutes before they stop chit chatting and acknowledge my presence.  That’s when I discover that I’m in the wrong side of the office.  This was the cosmetic side and the other door is for the doctor.  So, now 15 minutes late, we got to the right place.  Of course we get to listen to a parent in there with kids that have zero volume control.  The adult with them isn’t trying to rein them in at all either.  They start playing a game that involves lots of shouting…in a confined space…and the adult is playing it WITH them.  *deep breath*  I tell my daughter that THIS is why I demand they behave in public.  There’s a time and place for play and this is not it.  Doctor appt went well.  I come home and notice the “bulk” trash is gone.  My son tells me they didn’t pick it up so he put it all back in the garage.  They DID pick-up….right after he made the choice to bring it in.  So now I’m stuck with garbage that it’s going to cost me money to get rid of. 

 

Can I quit????

grrrrr COFFEE!!!!!

A mom enters a quiet and dark kitchen on a Fall morning.  She heads straight for her favorite source of caffine and begins the preparation process.  The dog behind her whimpers.  “ahhh ok I’ll just let him out and then I’ll get my coffee” Back to the coffee corner of the kitchen.  “Mommy, I’m hungry” says the oldest of the little ones.  “ok, coffee can wait.  Cereal or banana bread?” (thinking that both are essentially made and can just be handed to the child)  “Cereal” responds the child.  Mom grabs 3 bowls, because she knows there will be two more children appearing soon, and then returns to the coffee corner.  “But MOOOOOM” chime the two littlest ones who have appeared out of nowhere like they usually do” you said we could have pancakes today!”  AHHHHHH alright.  Pancakes are just in the freezer so mom pulls them out and pops 4 in the microwave and glances wistfully back at coffee corner.  Two plates of pancakes heated, cut, and syruped.  “Mom, can we have whup-cream???”  So to the fridge for the whippedcream.  Then the dog scratches at the door.  The oldest steps up to let the dog in.  “NOOOOOOOOOOOOO!!!” screams mom.  It’s muddy outside and the dog will have ridiculously muddy paws.  Mom grabs a towel and goes outside to clean the dog as best as she can.  Back into the house and headed for the corner when “Mom…you forgot our allergy medicine”  Medicine into medicine cups and head back to coffee corner.  “Mom…what about our vitamins?” UGHHHHHH vitamins handed out and back to coffee corner.  “mom when I’m finished can I have some cereal, too??”

 

Really, who needs coffee?

YES, I hear you…YES, I will follow

Sometimes the voice of our Father comes as jus the hint of a thought.  Sometimes it comes as a fully formed idea that may be slightly outside our normal pervue.  Sometimes it comes in the form of an opportunity or a window…a tiny crack that shines some light into our world and makes say “ooooh what’s that?”.  Then sometimes it comes with slamming doors that form a path that we must follow.   That’s me.  Sometimes I feel like livestock being herded into a smaller and smaller path until I have no choice but to proceed in the direction He has planned for me.  This is never the direction I want to go.  It goes against my nature, or what I perceive to be my nature.

Once I was told that God never healed me because my faith wasn’t strong enough (speaking of my leg and the way in which I was born).  Doctors could not fix it.  I lived most of my life in such intense pain and most those closest to me didn’t realize.  Some of my closest friends could probably think of one moment in which they were able to see a glimpse of the physical pain I had that was sort of an ”a-ha!”.  I’ve had several tell me “you know I didn’t know it hurt you until….(fill in the blank with the story or occasion)”.  My mother even had a story of the moment she realized how much physical pain I really was in.  I was an adult before she did.  My point is that, even though I had pain to the point that there were days I couldn’t walk, it didn’t even cross my mind that God should “heal” me.  Why would it when He made me this way?  For some reason, I grew up thinking there was a reason I was the way I was.  I still don’t know entirely and won’t know until I am in HIS presence (and then, really, will I care?), but I suspect it was the first slamming door…that first guiding hand pushing me down a path.

I won’t go through my whole life and each shaping push that led me to where I am now, but God is definitely pushing me right now.  He is telling me that my focus should be on family, home, my children’s education, and on spiritual growth.   My confession is that I desire professional recognition and a paycheck that helps to give me my very own sense of value.  Every time I try down that path, God starts whispering.  Of course I’m deaf, so He puts up signs.  I’m blind, too, so this is where the slamming doors and the herding begins.  Growth doesn’t have to be painful.  I am the one who makes it that way.

So I say now, “I hear you and I will follow”.  I will not be “working from home”.  I do not have even an hour a day to devote to any sort of home based business.  Any time I give to such a thing, takes away from those things that He has made it clear should be my focus.  Home based businesses are so tempting because I see people around me, left and right, succeeding.  I applaud them.  Instead of wanting what they have, I finally see that that is their path and not my own.  Sooooooooo, I’m not sure if I’ll keep my Etsy store up and running with my crafts or just continue to give and donate them.  I do know I’m closing out my Tupperware account.

I love and support my friends still working in their home based businesses.  I will purchase products that I use from you guys, but I can’t make purchases for products that I don’t.  I know that’s probably a given to you ladies, but me and my guilt.  I feel bad when I can’t buy from everyone because I’ve been there and so feel the need to apologize.

S’more cereal bars

My daughters have been eating me out of house and home lately.  There’s really only one brand of ceral bar on the shelves that they can have due to their allergies.  For 6 bars it’s going to cost $2.50, easily.  With 3 daughters, that’s hardly worth it.  So I’ve been on the look out for both affordable and nut-free/corn-free.  I made a double batch (which is what the pictures will show) and got 33 bars.  I’ll give the recipe for a 9X13 pan since most people wouldn’t want to make a double batch, though.

3 cups crispy rice

3 cups chocolate crispy rice (pebbles)

1 cup sunflower seeds or soy nuts

1/2 cup sunbutter (my experience is sunbutter cooks better than soy butter)

1 bag 10-12 oz marshmallows

2 tbsp milk

In a large bowl combine the cereals and  sunflower seeds/soy nuts.

(keep in mind that what is shown is a DOUBLE batch…twice the amount the recipe states)

In a pan on the stove combine the milk, sunbutter, and marshmallows. 

Stir constantly over low to medium low heat until melted and smooth.

This took me a while because it was so sticky and stringy like taffy left in the Texas sun on a car dashboard.    Keep going until it pours (albeit slowly) off the spoon.  Definitely consider doing this in non-stick cookware or a very well seasoned cast iron pot.

Next, pour it into the cereal mixture and mix WELL.  This is hard and requires some muscle.  Toward the end I dumped it out on the counter and was kneading it quite harshly to get it to combine thoroughly.  It would be easier if there was more of the moist mixture, but that would prevent the bars from holding as well and they’d be stickier.

Then press into a bar pan, 9X13, or larger (like I did for my double batch.  I think I used what is called a “half sheet” pan but it might be a sheet.  I always get confused about that.  It’s twice the size of a 9X13 though) that is heavily greased.  I actually had to pound it with my fists to get it to smooth out and be even and firm.  It was quite satisfying.

Let it set for an hour and then turn it out onto wax paper or the shiny side of freezer paper.

I used a large chef’s knife sprayed with oil to cut it since it was still pretty sticky.  My double batch got cut into 33 typical granola bar sized bars for a calorie count of 250 calories, 11g fat, 13g sugars, 4g fiber, 9g protein.  Given that I made these for my kids, the fat content isn’t really an issue.  My kids are skinny minnies with food allergies.  The cost count turned out to be about $12 for 33 bars, but they’re more nutritionally sound than a good portion of kid friendly bars out there and I know whats in them.  My next batch will have 2 cups less of the rice cereal and switch it up with wheat germ, flax, and maybe some bran cereal.

Oh and taste test?  These won the approval of the kiddos who are exceptionally picky.