So today's the day - I'm joining Spring Operation Weight Off for Moms and the first weigh in today. I dread this. I've always dreaded this. I was at my lowest adult weight (125 lbs.) right before I got pregnant with Bug. Well - let's do it!
My current weight: 171
My goal weight: 130
Monday, March 31, 2008
Saturday, March 29, 2008
It's Never Ending
Okay so I know wanting a clutter free home when we run two businesses out of the home, and with 2 kids, all the toys and baby stuff and four of us basically living on one floor of our house is an impossible and improbable dream. But is it too much to ask for to clean one room - just one room and have it stay clean for even an hour! I cleaned the living room yesterday with Bug - all that was left to do was take a box of toys and put them away in his room, only to have him say "Great, now I can play with my new Hot Wheels!" So now, needless to say, there are Hot Wheels all over the living room floor.
And what's the deal with everyone - um, Bug and the Husband, taking their shoes and socks off in the living room besides the stench, do they really think those things will just get up and walk themselves to the laundry hamper and closet? It must be a guy thing.
I asked Bug this morning "Where is it written that I'm the maid and have to pick everything after you?" "On your forehead." Do I have a wise-ass for a 6 year old, or what? I stared at him one, in utter amazement that he thinks that, and two, that he had the gall to actually say that to me? The stare must have worked because he suddenly had this look of terror in his eyes, and he immediately got up from what he was doing and picked up his shoes and backpack like I'd been telling him to for 15 minutes. And some of the cars got put away and even some of the groceries got magically put away. And even the Husband started chipping in and picking up. So the moral of the story is Mom has to get near erupting like Mount St. Helens for the anyone to start helping out.
And what's the deal with everyone - um, Bug and the Husband, taking their shoes and socks off in the living room besides the stench, do they really think those things will just get up and walk themselves to the laundry hamper and closet? It must be a guy thing.
I asked Bug this morning "Where is it written that I'm the maid and have to pick everything after you?" "On your forehead." Do I have a wise-ass for a 6 year old, or what? I stared at him one, in utter amazement that he thinks that, and two, that he had the gall to actually say that to me? The stare must have worked because he suddenly had this look of terror in his eyes, and he immediately got up from what he was doing and picked up his shoes and backpack like I'd been telling him to for 15 minutes. And some of the cars got put away and even some of the groceries got magically put away. And even the Husband started chipping in and picking up. So the moral of the story is Mom has to get near erupting like Mount St. Helens for the anyone to start helping out.
Wednesday, March 26, 2008
Sunday, March 23, 2008
My Love / Hate Relationship with March
Part of me loves this time of year – the change from winter to spring. The tulips and daffodils sprouting up from their winter rest. The blue jays and robins singing their songs. The freshness in the air. Everyone gets re-motivated to start new projects. Everything/everyone seems to have a new energy about it.
But on the flip side – there’s the rain. The chilly kind that hurts your bones. If you’ve ever had a break or injury you know what I mean. And the mud. Bug is a mud magnet. If there’s mud outside he’ll find it. He found it the other day before changing out of his school uniform, and not only did his shoes find it, but his legs, butt, hands and face. UUGGHH! And then there’s my fffaaavvvooorrriiittteee – March Madness. Are you a March Madness widow? I am. I’m lucky if I get a “Hi, hon, I’m home” before he turns on ESPN, and checks his brackets. He used to much worse – he wouldn’t even eat dinner at the table. Before we had kids, I just gave in and we ate in the living room so he could watch the games. But now, I make him sit at the table with us. Sure – he basically swallows his food whole, but he’s at the table. At least until we get down to the Final Four. That’s when not even it being Easter, or Bug’s birthday or even his birthday, or an act of God would get him to move away from the TV. But I guess it’s only, what, three weeks out of the year.
But on the flip side – there’s the rain. The chilly kind that hurts your bones. If you’ve ever had a break or injury you know what I mean. And the mud. Bug is a mud magnet. If there’s mud outside he’ll find it. He found it the other day before changing out of his school uniform, and not only did his shoes find it, but his legs, butt, hands and face. UUGGHH! And then there’s my fffaaavvvooorrriiittteee – March Madness. Are you a March Madness widow? I am. I’m lucky if I get a “Hi, hon, I’m home” before he turns on ESPN, and checks his brackets. He used to much worse – he wouldn’t even eat dinner at the table. Before we had kids, I just gave in and we ate in the living room so he could watch the games. But now, I make him sit at the table with us. Sure – he basically swallows his food whole, but he’s at the table. At least until we get down to the Final Four. That’s when not even it being Easter, or Bug’s birthday or even his birthday, or an act of God would get him to move away from the TV. But I guess it’s only, what, three weeks out of the year.
Wednesday, March 19, 2008
Friday, March 14, 2008
Applesauce Makes It Better
I remember as a little girl my mom having to give me medicine in pill form and I would inevitably throw it back up. Even baby aspirin would make me gag. But low and behold, all she had to do was crush it up and mix with a little applesauce and all was right with the world again. Now 30-someodd years later, I'm doing the same with my baby girl - not giving her medicine, of course, but just getting her to eat the variety of baby food that would make a grown adult gag. Honestly, all I have to do is disguise some pureed chicken with some applesauce and Budha will gladly eat it. Plain pureed chicken and she gags like I'm making her eat the dirt of my shoe. Oh, the miracles of applesauce!
Thursday, March 13, 2008
I'm So Excited
Okay- so not only has Spring officially arrived on the calendar, the temperatures are even rising to the point I can open the windows, but I started writing on a group blog! Check out the Jobs Online Community Blog - http://justonlinejobs.com/blog/ - joining others that work from home. I'm excited about writing more about working from home - something I've been doing full-time since August 2006 and something I'm passionate about. For me working from home has been the best way I've found to balance family and work. There's a great group of bloggers there so be sure to check it out.
And since I forgot to post yesterday, here's a sweet pic of my kiddos that I did mean to post for Wordless Wednesday.
Thursday, March 6, 2008
I Was Young Once Too
Bug hasn’t had an easy time of it this school year. Starting kindergarten is hard enough. Having your new sister be born on the first day and your mommy be in the hospital for the whole first week of school makes it even harder.
We had fully expected that Budha would be born the beginning of October, not the end of August – and certainly not the first day of school. Bug dealt with things like a trooper, but it hasn’t been easy for him. He started off going full-days, but after the first month or so switched to 3 half-days a week at the teacher’s suggestion. I do my best to let him get a full night’s rest; and I know he sleeps well. Every night we pack his bag, make sure his uniform is ready, and snacks and/or lunch is ready. Yet every morning it’s a race to get him to school on time. Every morning I’m continually dragging him out of bed and threatening every type of punishment under the sun to have him get dressed and eat something. I do follow through on the punishments, but the need to get up and get going just doesn’t get through to him. But on days off, he’s the first one up and will even get dressed if there’s something he wants to do.
This week he started a new deterrent – “but Mommy, I’m sick. I can’t go to school.” Now I don’t know if this is starting all of a sudden because the rest of us have been sick with the creepy stomach crud that’s been going around, and he was feeling left out for not getting it. (He should be very thankful he didn’t get it.) Or if he’s just trying a new way to get to stay home. But as terrible as I felt (from the stomach crud), I did stick to my guns, made him get dressed each and every morning so far this week, and got him to school – only 5 minutes late one day.
When we got home from school yesterday, I put Budha down for a nap and sat down with Bug. I explained to him that Mommy was little once too, and had to go to school like him. And like him, I would tell Grandma that I didn’t feel good and couldn’t go to school. Bug asked “Why? Didn’t you like school?” I did like school. I had friends. I was a good student – A’s and B’s when I got older. I just didn’t want to go – even now I don’t really know the reason or remember it. When I asked Bug why he didn’t want to go to school, he told me it was because it wasn’t fun and they gave a lot of hard work to do.
I couldn’t very well argue with that. A lot of what I’ve been hearing in talking to other parents is that schools do expect a lot more out of kindergarteners now. He’s expected to begin to read by the end of the year and know at least one sound for each letter of the alphabet. He can count to 100 and beyond. He’s learning about addition and subtraction. He takes a computer class every week.
So I took a different approach, I asked him what he wanted to be when he grew up. He said he wanted to be a builder like Daddy. So I showed him ways that Daddy had to use math and reading in work. This didn’t work so well. He asked “Was Grandma mean and make you go to school, like you do with me?” I said, “Yes, she was. Grandma made me go to school all the time. But you know what?”
“What?”
“I’m glad she did.”
“Why?”
“Because it helped make me smart. Mommy wouldn’t be able to work from home or help Daddy with his business, and do all the things on computers, and be able to teach you things if I didn’t go to school. Don’t you want to be able to teach your kids things?”
“That’s too far away, Mom.”
“Well, you need to start somewhere and you have a lot to learn.”
“You mean I still have to go to school for a long time.”
“Yes, dear, you do.”
“Well, I’m not going to college.”
“Well, we can discuss that later. Let’s do your homework.”
We had fully expected that Budha would be born the beginning of October, not the end of August – and certainly not the first day of school. Bug dealt with things like a trooper, but it hasn’t been easy for him. He started off going full-days, but after the first month or so switched to 3 half-days a week at the teacher’s suggestion. I do my best to let him get a full night’s rest; and I know he sleeps well. Every night we pack his bag, make sure his uniform is ready, and snacks and/or lunch is ready. Yet every morning it’s a race to get him to school on time. Every morning I’m continually dragging him out of bed and threatening every type of punishment under the sun to have him get dressed and eat something. I do follow through on the punishments, but the need to get up and get going just doesn’t get through to him. But on days off, he’s the first one up and will even get dressed if there’s something he wants to do.
This week he started a new deterrent – “but Mommy, I’m sick. I can’t go to school.” Now I don’t know if this is starting all of a sudden because the rest of us have been sick with the creepy stomach crud that’s been going around, and he was feeling left out for not getting it. (He should be very thankful he didn’t get it.) Or if he’s just trying a new way to get to stay home. But as terrible as I felt (from the stomach crud), I did stick to my guns, made him get dressed each and every morning so far this week, and got him to school – only 5 minutes late one day.
When we got home from school yesterday, I put Budha down for a nap and sat down with Bug. I explained to him that Mommy was little once too, and had to go to school like him. And like him, I would tell Grandma that I didn’t feel good and couldn’t go to school. Bug asked “Why? Didn’t you like school?” I did like school. I had friends. I was a good student – A’s and B’s when I got older. I just didn’t want to go – even now I don’t really know the reason or remember it. When I asked Bug why he didn’t want to go to school, he told me it was because it wasn’t fun and they gave a lot of hard work to do.
I couldn’t very well argue with that. A lot of what I’ve been hearing in talking to other parents is that schools do expect a lot more out of kindergarteners now. He’s expected to begin to read by the end of the year and know at least one sound for each letter of the alphabet. He can count to 100 and beyond. He’s learning about addition and subtraction. He takes a computer class every week.
So I took a different approach, I asked him what he wanted to be when he grew up. He said he wanted to be a builder like Daddy. So I showed him ways that Daddy had to use math and reading in work. This didn’t work so well. He asked “Was Grandma mean and make you go to school, like you do with me?” I said, “Yes, she was. Grandma made me go to school all the time. But you know what?”
“What?”
“I’m glad she did.”
“Why?”
“Because it helped make me smart. Mommy wouldn’t be able to work from home or help Daddy with his business, and do all the things on computers, and be able to teach you things if I didn’t go to school. Don’t you want to be able to teach your kids things?”
“That’s too far away, Mom.”
“Well, you need to start somewhere and you have a lot to learn.”
“You mean I still have to go to school for a long time.”
“Yes, dear, you do.”
“Well, I’m not going to college.”
“Well, we can discuss that later. Let’s do your homework.”
Tuesday, March 4, 2008
It worked for Dorothy. . .
There's no place like home. There's no place like home. There's no place like home.
I wish this creepy stomach crud would be gone. I wish this creepy stomach crud would be gone. I wish this creepy stomach crud would be gone.
"click, click, click"
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