Oldies but goodies

I decided to copy some of my blogs from a previous site in here, mostly for posterity's sake. So, enjoy some of my older postings about life in general.

Oh Costco, my Costco
I am sure most of you have at least experienced the madness that is a trip to Costco. I will admit, as a mother of three, being able to go one place for pretty much everything is kind of like winning the lottery or getting a really great new lipstick or something. It just makes life better. However, I have always been skeptical as to whether or not it is truly worth it to buy 1000 rolls of toilet paper as opposed to 12 and if I am really saving money.
My last trip to the vortex (as I like to call it) I decided to do some comparing and I realized that I was actually saving money, to some degree. But at what cost? Having a 2 gallon jug of olive oil really does make it much easier to saute pretty much anything for the rest of my life, but I have essentially had to remove a shelf from my cabinet to fit the darn thing! And don't get me started on the looks I get from friends when I hoist out the keg of red wine. Is bulk really the way to go or is it simply feeding our uber-consumer mindset? Do I really need that much olive oil and wine, no matter how great a deal I might be getting? And is having to add on to my home worth it in order to store the 1000's of rolls of toilet paper that come in a package?
Now let's chat about the strange check-out customs that go along with being a "member" (and don't get me started on that.) First of all, they only accept 1 kind of credit card? And let me just be perfectly honest, most people shopping at Costco are the not the folks who can afford the $100 yearly fee to have an American Express card. I don't care what kind of perks you get. So, I have to use cash, or in my case, the wonderful debit card. Checks? Huh? What are those? And then there is the fact that they try to stuff all your items into a box built for Snickers bars so you find yourself precariously balancing your 3 lb bag of spinach atop your 10 gallon jug of laundry soap while pushing your bathtub sized cart at the same time. And don't even think of putting your receipt away like a normal person, no, they must check it and put a smiley face on it (I think they only do this so they can laugh at your acrobatics as you exit.)
Then there are the items that they only carry for a short time. They do this because unlike other superstores they only carry a certain amount of items at a time, as opposed to a place like Walmart that has the ability to bilk its employees so it can carry that cd player you want ALL the time. So, you go there, get your 50 pack of Perrier and then you spot it, the grill you have always wanted, or that toy for you child that is usually $50 more at Target. You think, like any normal person, I will come back later, after we get paid, yada yada yada, but alas, you return and the item isn't there, they don't know when or if they will carry it again! NOOOOOOOO!!! So the next time you spot it you buy it, even if you don't have the money or it isn't your child't birthday. You have to have it. Costco has created a monster!
I will still shop there, I think I have finally found a happy medium of purchasing what I need coupled with the occasional book or underwear purchase (they are in the same section after all.) Oh, and maybe some DVD's, oooh, and a new blender, but that's it. Oh wait, trail mix is on sale, no one likes it in my family, but it's on sale!!! Oh crap, I lost my receipt.

Going green has me seeing yellow
I try to live as green as a mother of three boys in an old, highly energy-inefficient home can. I try to do laundry and dishes in the evening, I turn lights out when leaving a room, we bought new doors and windows to make our house a little more tight, not much, but a little. So, a few weeks ago we did some things to the house, including getting new lighting in the kitchen. We did track lighting so we could turn all the lights on from one switch rather than three. We also bought the good kind of light bulbs that are supposed to last 9 years and save tons of energy. We have them in most other lights all over the house but could never find ones that fit our old fixtures in the kitchen. Now, keep in mind that our house is old, around 60 years old or so, so things are, well, old. The kitchen has all the original cabinets and the person we bought it from just dipped the entire house in glossy white paint before we moved in. I didn't mind the gloss white so much when we had our soft white mood lighting in here, but now with the new bulbs everything looks yellow. I mean everything. I was just cooking some white fish and it turned yellow before my eyes. Before the light change it would turn more of a golden color, like it was browning, but this was just plain yellow, not very appetizing.
Anyway, didn't know if anyone else out there wishes the environmentalists could at least make some flattering light bulbs. I mean, look how far hybid cars have come.

Bars of Soap
My family went to Vegas recently. It was actually our family, my husband's parents, my husband's sister and her family, and my husband's sister's husband's parents. Did that make sense? Anyway, there were a lot of us spread over three two bedroom condos off, off, off the strip. Our first night there a few of us went to Subway to get some food and we left the kiddos with one set of grandparents. Upon returning we were told what is so far one of my favorite stories involving my kids to date. So, at one point both kids went to the bathroom (they usually do this together, they are kind of like women at a bar, they have to go together for some reason.) Upon finishing they went to the double sinks (a novelty in itself) to wash their hands. My 3 year old was immediately confused. You see, at our house we use either Purell or foaminig soap. The hotel had only bar soap. My oldest proceeded to open up the bar, I guess he knew instintively that it was soap, but in my 3 year old's defense I will say that it did look like a piece of cheese. As he watched his brother unwrap the soap he got upset and asked where his cheese was. Grandma explained that it wasn't cheese, it was soap, and that he just needed to rub it on his hands. So, he did what we was told and immediately got frustrated and said, " it doesn't work!!" Grandma had to control the laughter as she explained that he had to get his hands wet first, THEN rub the soap on them. So, he did that. As he was washing grandma told him to smell his hands, the soap smelled like oranges. He smelled his hands and said without pause, "smells like cheese." So, I admit, my child has never seen a bar of soap. It does not make me a bad mother. But it sure makes for a good story.

Oh, snap!
Today is one of the saddest for me on record as a mom. I mean, I have plenty of them, well, I guess I should calculate more in minutes rather than days, but today I was kicked in the but by my middle son.
Let me preface (and this is not a sorry attempt at an excuse) by saying that I lose all patience when I am in the car. I could be in the best mood and as soon as I start the engine and get into "CA driver mode" I am suddenly overtaken by some road-raged lunatic!! So, add three kids to that mix and you can guess that many car rides are stressful, especially when they happen to occur close to nap time.
Ok, so, we are on our way home from the mall, it is WAY past naptime (my fault, but when you need diapers you have get diapers), and before leaving the parking lot Dom started freaking out because I wouldn't let him buckle his buckle by himself. He can do it, sort of, but it sometimes takes a good 2 minutes, which is an eternity in a busy parking lot with people waiting for your spot. So, I did it for him and he threw a fit. Add to this fit the fact that he is exhausted (still waking up at 5 am because of daylight savings, or maybe it is just to torture me, who knows) you can imagine what it sounded like in the car. The baby is crying because he is hungry and tired. Luckily Anthony was behaving and just minding his own business during all of this.
So, Dom is having a fit and so in an attempt to quell his madness I tell him, rather sternly, that if he doesn't settle down he won't be able to buckle his buckle himself for the next 10 times we ride in the car. This didn't work, he was already too far gone, so in a vain attempt I told him that if he didn't calm down he wouldn't be able to earn back any of the toys he had taken away earlier that morning, but if he was quiet the rest of the way home he could earn one toy back.
That at least quieted him down for a second, I thought we were in the clear, I couldn't believe it! But then he started up again. I lost it. I yelled, I scolded him, (totally useless with a three year old, much less an exhausted three year old). Then he responded with what will undoubtedly go down as the worst thing my kids have ever said to me "why are you mad all the time?" Wow. Is that how they saw me? I mean, I am the mom, it is my job to teach them right from wrong, how to be responsible, I make the rules, etc. But did that mean that I was forever the mad lady in the house? I don't want that to be the case. I try really hard to do things rationally at first, but when the third time rolls around and they still haven't done what I asked then I sometimes lose it. Any mother who tells you she hasn't is lying.
So, I am sad. I don't want my kids to think of me as always being mad, but I also don't want them to think they can get away with anything. I just needed to share. Kids are tough.

Curse you Ben Franklin!!
I am up at 5 am. I despise daylight savings. My kids have been up between 5:15 and 5:45 for the last two days (apparently they started daylight savings a day early, just for laughs). I mean, I had just gotten used to them waking up at 6:30 and being ok with that, it was just how their internal clocks worked. But now, now am I in for months of being up before daylight?!!!
I think part of my problem was I didn't sleep all that well the night before last because I kept waking up to see if the kids were awake. Then we forgot to change the clock in our living room so I kept thinking it was 9:45 rather than 8:45 and I was tired so I went to bed. So, I am up at the crack of dawn and luckily, none of my kids are up yet, so, perhaps they have adjusted. Too bad I haven't.
So, daylight savings, I think perhaps this needs to be one of the issues the presidential candidates take head on. Since I am still on the fence as to whom I am voting for, this could really put one candidate over the top for me. I know Stephen Colbert would have made it is 1 priority. Ok, hope you are all sleeping soundly. I am off to google some old friends.

Grace like a child
As a parent you find yourself apologizing, a lot. I mean, we are only human, we make mistakes, and the 1 thing I want my kids to learn from my mistakes is that making them isn't necessarily bad, but not apologizing for them is. I mean, from as early as they could grasp the concept of being sorry and asking for forgiveness we were hammering it into their brains (still are). The key part in all of this being the asking for forgiveness part. That was HUGE in my house growing up. It wasn't enough to just apologize, you had to ask that person to forgive you as well. That is hard to do. Anyone can offer a half-hearted apology, but to ask that person to forgive you means you own that hurt, you know you did wrong and you want to make it right.
Yesterday I needed to ask my oldest for forgiveness. It started out as a pretty standard thing. I asked them to get ready to take a bath, they ignored me, didn't hear me, were pretending I was speaking another language, whatever, they didn't do what I asked. I asked again, a little louder. I started doing that counting thing parents do that never works yet we do it anyway. I threatened to take away their favorites toys. I actualy took away said toys. Nothing. So, I grabbed my oldest by his shirt collar and marched him to the bathroom. The youngest followed us as soon as he knew I was serious. I said some harsh words, harsher than needed to be said. They took a bath and I cooled off and when they were done and cozy in their jammies I took my oldest aside and apologized to him for being too harsh with him. I asked forgiveness, he gave it, we moved on to teeth brushing and quiet time.
Then he did something that took my by complete surprise, he asked ME for forgiveness too. Without any prompting he said, "mommy, I need forgiveness too. I didn't listen to you and that was wrong." I mean, yes, it was true, he should have done what I asked, but this was so huge. My 5 year old got it, he totally got it. He knew that even though his transgression wasn't huge, it still hurt my feelings and that was wrong. I started crying and I think that confused him, but we hugged and everything was fine.
As I lay in bed that night I thought about our exchange again and a tear came to my eye. I realized that if I have done nothing else right in raising my children, at least I have taught them forgiveness, both giving and receiving. Let's hope it sticks.

Dominic
I am three
I am strong small and sweet
I move as though propelled
I live life without thought of tomorrow
I think Superheroes are real
I will be one someday
My back is afraid at night
but my heart feels warm
I will get bigger and bigger and bigger
I will be strong like daddy
I pray for Anthony, and mommy, and daddy, and Nicolas,
and Spiderman
Sometimes you call me, what kind of ball is it?...goofball
I want to give you a big hug and kiss
I am three

Talking to the kitty Category: Life
I often marvel at my children. Mostly it is when they remember to flush the toilet or say thank you unpromted, but sometimes I simply marvel at them, just them. Babies are born so fragile and unfinished and within a few months they are smiling and interacting and controlling their limbs rather than their limbs controlling them. Within a year or so they are walking and talking and understanding pretty much everything you say to them, even if they can't respond in complete, or any type, of sentences yet. In just 2 years or so they are talking, legitimately talking, and interacting with you and other people and they are learning how to be polite and share and be a human being in this big big world.
This beginning talking and conversing phase is probably my favorite of all, at least so far. And the beautiful thing about kids is that they want to talk to anyone AND anything once they realize that the words and sounds coming out of their mouths create many different reactions. Their little foibles are adorable and they LOVE that. They have no idea why them replacing their "th's" with "s's" is so cute, but they certainly love when us adults give a hardly laugh or smile when they make those funny noises with their lips and tongue.
When my oldest son was a little over 2 he was playing on the floor while my husband and I were talking. Out of nowhere he said, "I am going to ask the kitty where she is going." He then proceeded to follow our kitty as she sauntered towards the kitchen. But rather than say "where are you going, kitty?" which is what both my husband and I assumed he would say, he said "meow meow meow meow, Roxy?" Complete with the inflection at the end indicating he was asking her a question. We were both tickled pink and laughed out loud at the sheer magnitude of our son's cuteness. Later on that night I was reminded of his little conversation again and after another good laugh it occurred to me that he was speaking her language. Somehow, in his little 2 year old brain, he knew that simply asking her, in his own language, wouldn't work, she simply wouldn't understand. So without even thinking about it, he spoke to her in her language, and you know what? She listened! She stopped in her tracks, turned around, sniffed his cute little nose lovingly as if to say, "thank you for asking mini-person, I am going to pee in my litter box now." And the other amazing thing was, he waited for her response. And when she sniffed him, he smiled, satisfied that he had made contact and been understood.
This reminds me of how our Heavenly Father speaks to us in our own languages. We each have our own "heart" language I believe, the language we hear that prompts us to look outside of ourselves and see the bigger, greater, more wonderful picture that is this world. The language that we need to be spoken to in if we are to recognize the error of our ways or feel truly loved and understood. And He always waits for our answer, waits for us to simply acknowledge He has spoken at all, waits for us to sniff his nose and tell him we are going to the potty, thanks for asking. For you see, even He cares about the minute things of our lives. And that is a comforting thought, at least for me.

A smile is worth a thousand time outs
Consider this an addendum to my last post.
Life is better, not totally better, but better. I suppose life is never perfect so I am trying to remember the good times more than the bad times. This week has been pretty good so far. We have implemented some new tactics when dealing with the older boys and so far they seem to be working, at least a little bit. They are screaming less and listening to me more, so that is a bonus. However, something else has started happening this week that makes their bad behavior almost disappear. My baby smiled at me. He has been kind of smling for a week or two now, but this week he has actually been smling AT me. When I pick him up or just talk to him he grins so huge I feel like he wants to laugh or talk to me but just can't figure out how. So, at least this week, it doesn't matter how many times the other two jump on the bed or throw toys at each other. I just look at my little one, he smiles back at me, and all is well with the world. It is as if his smile makes the rest of the world stop, at least at my house. Yes, I have had to deal with a few more bumps and bruises since I am not quite on the ball with the other two, but that smile, oh that smile! It is worth it. If you have never had the pleasure of having your baby smile at you then you might not understand why it means so much. But if you do have kids, then you know. You know that a smile means they know you, trust you, and think you are the entire world. Even though it only lasts for a year or two, it is a pretty good feeling to know that for at least one of my kids I can do no wrong. I am his superhero and I love it! The other two, well, sometimes I am Wonder Woman and sometimes I am the Wicked Witch of the West. But either way, at the end of the day it is still mommy who they want a big hug and kiss from before bed. I will take that.