RING!! RING!! RIIINNGG!! Uugghhh...stretching across a mile wide bed to get over my husband's chest and to the phone...the 3am wake up call I didn't know about, but figured it was coming. "Oh it's time to get going" attempting to inspire myself. Legs...legs...walk me to the bathroom. Uuugghhh...the steam engine in my head started without me in the wee hours of this morning. 6am flight huh? Alright. Up and at 'em mamma.
The hot water beating on my back is bliss. Asleep standing. Reminded of the upcoming events. Flush...oh cold water cold...I'm getting out! Living with four other people can bring mommy's quiet moments to a screeching halt just like the shock of icy water in your face. Wrapping my dripping body in a towel, starting to repack suit cases, preparing bottles, making a bite-size pot of Hilton Garden Inn supreme coffee...not turning toward the beds of fluffy down comforters and 5oo thread count heaven for fear that they may suck me in like the night before. Shuffling and choosing clothes for everyone...maybe I should get dressed? They probably won't let me through the security gate like this!
Personal affects for 5 people. 3 superhuman-size suit cases @ $75 each for excess weight. 3 suitable carry-on bags. 1 diaper/mommy bag. 4:45am in the pouring rain, shuttle service to pdx. Leading the pack to the airline desk. They were having so much fun searching the signs for our airline, gazing in disbelief at the various makes and models of fellow travelers. (Thank goodness for being a military family...asking nicely, the attendant for our airline waived the fees for all of our bags! One of the few benefits of being in the military...) Treasure hunting past TSA checkpoints. Declaration of various products in my armament of nourishment and entertainment. I have never met a nicer TSA bag inspector. Lucky for me, she laughed when I asked her if I could borrow her "sniffer machine" for diapers!
My longing for coffee generally sends my husband on his own little treasure hunt. Almost missing our flight was sweeter thanks to my Venti Cup of rejuvenation. Caffeine induction was sure to get me through this day of airborn excitement. Dreading take-off, inserting a bottle into this baby's mouth was sure to help his ears. Shimmying, rolling along the tarmac, preparing for our journey into a mommy's unknown, he fell asleep! Oh my goodness! All of this agonizing worry about the noise, and elevation effects...went off without a hitch...really...this was me with my kids? Off to the races!!!
Loading...Unloading...Layover. Flight 209 from Portland to Denver arrived 10 minutes early. Gate 25A will be boarding about 15 minutes late. Bringing our grand total to 135 minutes of free time. Walking past an unoccupied gate, noticing the open space for the baby to roam, I unleashed him into the great unknown. Like a wild stallion, he raced across the floor heading for the floor-to-ceiling windows which overlook the aircraft service areas. Pressing his belly against the frigid glass, the look in his eyes was asking me to just let him takeoff. Plopping to his backside once again he takes-off toward the foot path of the drones of people rushing to catch connections. He lives for the challenge. Unaware there is a baby actually trying to keep up with them, ladies and gentlemen, kids and pilots alike just smile at him and comment about how cute he is...little do they know, he's on his way! The determination in Van's eyes is astounding. He is my child. World: brace yourselves. Here comes change.
Family and anyone needing extra assistance, please board now! Ticket stubs to kids? Check. Seats 4a through 4d? Check. Overhead stowed? Check. Mobile TV purchased? Check. Gazing out the window, the kids on the plane all yell "We are moving!!!" with excitement. Van is asleep again. Seriously? Could this be any easier?
Arriving in San Antonio, we were all flooded with a variety of emotions. Anxiety and nerves. Wonder and jubilence. The big boys are great at following signs, spotting our luggage from a mile away, and were so nervous to meet the family we did not yet know. Making our way to the front entrance, and the huge, round rotating doors, we were met with open arms.
...once again, we are off to the races!!!
Friday, January 8, 2010
Saturday, January 2, 2010
Surround Sound !!!!
I have welcomed myself in to the digital age. I have to admit that I have been a bit resistant to the interactive-ness of it all. Shall it be considered interactivity when one child is consumed in a handheld version of virtuality, one is world-wide searching games to play while sitting next to a shelf full of board games? (Not to be confused with "bored games") Don't get me wrong, my kids are very healthy, active, athletic kids. Probably abnormal at the amount of video games they don't play.
On a given home-school day, my eight-year old is allowed to listen to his music via headphones for concentration. When the overall mood elevates, it is best managed with some XM-coffeehouse tunes cranked up to 34. Driving anytime we can be witnessed belting out the words of whatever beats occupy the disk changer, or even making up our own words and forcing each other to crack up! Yeah, we let it all hang out.
Every mother has those days...you know those days. When you just can't think straight...or crooked for that matter! My brain fills up so fast with mystery-item grocery lists, breakfast mess left behind, school work instructions, stained laundry, and late fees on bills...not to mention why the baby is suddenly not tired!! Oh man, we all need naps! So yes...I'm not sure how it is for other moms that have 3+boys, but it seems that I am always wrong. I swear some days that I consider joining the circus or a religious cult! Saying this all funny and cute is totally a facade for a much deeper issue.
"Put the recyclables in the tote with the green lid please"..."the recyclables go into the tote with the GREEN lid"..."recyclables, green lid"...PLEASE pick the recycling out of the garbage can"..."from blue lid into green lid"...Seriously?!" mama...mama... "No, the man that takes the recycling does not check our garbage for recycling...sure, in a perfect world...yes, that's a great idea to recycle cat poop but, ...we recycle because they grind up the items and use the stuff to make new stuff...and it's responsible...well, kinda like that...I don't think I could recycle my car...or the shed...I know it's made of pretty much the same stuff.......breathing, breathing, WHY DON'T YOU STAND AND WAIT FOR THE RECYCLING GUY THAT DRIVES THE DAMN TRUCK AND ASK HIM WHY!? I DON'T DECIDE WHAT THE COMPANY ACCEPTS! I CAN ONLY FOLLOW THE DAMN RULES AND PUT THE DAMN STUFF INTO THE RIGHT DAMN TOTE AND THEN TAKE THE DAMN STUFF TO THE DAMN STREET AND THEN BRING THE TOTE BACK AND DO THE DAMN SHIT AGAIN EVERY WEEK LIKE A DAMN ROBOT!!!!!!!! Knowing I have not had enough sleep for this conversation is just...it's just...
Yeah, that's a real-life example. Truth: I don't have all the answers. Generally I can get by on factual explanations and use it as a "teachable moment". When there are 4 or 5 guys reading me the riot act every second of everyday, I get a bit-lot defensive. Edgy. Feisty. Tough. Some days they ask questions and then when I start to answer, they interject "I KNOW" into my sentence. Admitting to the next part is not my proudest offense, but I have to confess. Sometimes I just don't react and pretend they haven't spoken at all...then I react as if they had said something I wanted to hear. The smile on my face makes them wonder if I have completely lost it...maybe I have.
Just to clear this up for a moment. Taking care of my kids is wonderful. My love is the most impossibly loving affliction. Here I go justifying again. My matriarchal ways get me every time. If I did not love them all with every bit of what I am, It wouldn't bother me. As my father says to my husband: "She complains because she cares...if she stops it's time to worry!"
Today we watched Revolutionary Road. Scary. Similar. The part I could identify with the most was the final breakfast. She was just numb. Finished. There was no longer any amount of fight that could be productive in the resolution. A "good" wife. She smiled, completed her tasks. Not mentioning the prior nights events. Creepy if you've seen it! But I never expected the movie to finish the way it did, and don't agree with it. I too have found myself engulfed in the reality of situations in marriage that no longer require reaction. Although the events which transpired deserve attention. The repetition of conversations means that the message is not being considered. Empathy not granted. There comes a time you take things into your own hands. Take inventory. Trim the fat.
This "digital age" has lent me tools to cope with complaints. Thanks to headphones and the Blackeyed Peas, I found some damn peace. Just last night, folding laundry, baby in bed, cute family sitting around, I made a witty comment of the sarcastic sort and was met with static for which I did not desire to hear. Play: At this moment of empowerment, the music filled my ears. A smile spread across my face. A groove hit my hips. Drowning out the static inside of my head. My shoulders lowered. I totally get it now! This surround sound was amazing! I felt free. Aside from the confused gazes and resisting the overwhelming urge to laugh!
After just minutes, they all realized that i was no longer able to cope with the constant complaints, opposition to and lack thereof hearty conversation. It does suffice to say that surround sound saved my sanity! Who knew that I could fight this battle with the weapons used against me! How bout a nice big gulp of this medicine! Yes, I can just be goofy and not make a big deal about it all. I am worn out! This constant is going to kill me if I don't start having some fun.
Making a point is like fine art. Each person has their own perception. It seems everyone in my life imposes requirements, jobs and expectations. My power is standing up for myself. They each get what they need and check-out frequently. If I can't beat them I am joining them. One of my resolutions for this New Year is dance therapy. Yes! Induced by surround sound.
On a given home-school day, my eight-year old is allowed to listen to his music via headphones for concentration. When the overall mood elevates, it is best managed with some XM-coffeehouse tunes cranked up to 34. Driving anytime we can be witnessed belting out the words of whatever beats occupy the disk changer, or even making up our own words and forcing each other to crack up! Yeah, we let it all hang out.
Every mother has those days...you know those days. When you just can't think straight...or crooked for that matter! My brain fills up so fast with mystery-item grocery lists, breakfast mess left behind, school work instructions, stained laundry, and late fees on bills...not to mention why the baby is suddenly not tired!! Oh man, we all need naps! So yes...I'm not sure how it is for other moms that have 3+boys, but it seems that I am always wrong. I swear some days that I consider joining the circus or a religious cult! Saying this all funny and cute is totally a facade for a much deeper issue.
"Put the recyclables in the tote with the green lid please"..."the recyclables go into the tote with the GREEN lid"..."recyclables, green lid"...PLEASE pick the recycling out of the garbage can"..."from blue lid into green lid"...Seriously?!" mama...mama... "No, the man that takes the recycling does not check our garbage for recycling...sure, in a perfect world...yes, that's a great idea to recycle cat poop but, ...we recycle because they grind up the items and use the stuff to make new stuff...and it's responsible...well, kinda like that...I don't think I could recycle my car...or the shed...I know it's made of pretty much the same stuff.......breathing, breathing, WHY DON'T YOU STAND AND WAIT FOR THE RECYCLING GUY THAT DRIVES THE DAMN TRUCK AND ASK HIM WHY!? I DON'T DECIDE WHAT THE COMPANY ACCEPTS! I CAN ONLY FOLLOW THE DAMN RULES AND PUT THE DAMN STUFF INTO THE RIGHT DAMN TOTE AND THEN TAKE THE DAMN STUFF TO THE DAMN STREET AND THEN BRING THE TOTE BACK AND DO THE DAMN SHIT AGAIN EVERY WEEK LIKE A DAMN ROBOT!!!!!!!! Knowing I have not had enough sleep for this conversation is just...it's just...
Yeah, that's a real-life example. Truth: I don't have all the answers. Generally I can get by on factual explanations and use it as a "teachable moment". When there are 4 or 5 guys reading me the riot act every second of everyday, I get a bit-lot defensive. Edgy. Feisty. Tough. Some days they ask questions and then when I start to answer, they interject "I KNOW" into my sentence. Admitting to the next part is not my proudest offense, but I have to confess. Sometimes I just don't react and pretend they haven't spoken at all...then I react as if they had said something I wanted to hear. The smile on my face makes them wonder if I have completely lost it...maybe I have.
Just to clear this up for a moment. Taking care of my kids is wonderful. My love is the most impossibly loving affliction. Here I go justifying again. My matriarchal ways get me every time. If I did not love them all with every bit of what I am, It wouldn't bother me. As my father says to my husband: "She complains because she cares...if she stops it's time to worry!"
Today we watched Revolutionary Road. Scary. Similar. The part I could identify with the most was the final breakfast. She was just numb. Finished. There was no longer any amount of fight that could be productive in the resolution. A "good" wife. She smiled, completed her tasks. Not mentioning the prior nights events. Creepy if you've seen it! But I never expected the movie to finish the way it did, and don't agree with it. I too have found myself engulfed in the reality of situations in marriage that no longer require reaction. Although the events which transpired deserve attention. The repetition of conversations means that the message is not being considered. Empathy not granted. There comes a time you take things into your own hands. Take inventory. Trim the fat.
This "digital age" has lent me tools to cope with complaints. Thanks to headphones and the Blackeyed Peas, I found some damn peace. Just last night, folding laundry, baby in bed, cute family sitting around, I made a witty comment of the sarcastic sort and was met with static for which I did not desire to hear. Play: At this moment of empowerment, the music filled my ears. A smile spread across my face. A groove hit my hips. Drowning out the static inside of my head. My shoulders lowered. I totally get it now! This surround sound was amazing! I felt free. Aside from the confused gazes and resisting the overwhelming urge to laugh!
After just minutes, they all realized that i was no longer able to cope with the constant complaints, opposition to and lack thereof hearty conversation. It does suffice to say that surround sound saved my sanity! Who knew that I could fight this battle with the weapons used against me! How bout a nice big gulp of this medicine! Yes, I can just be goofy and not make a big deal about it all. I am worn out! This constant is going to kill me if I don't start having some fun.
Making a point is like fine art. Each person has their own perception. It seems everyone in my life imposes requirements, jobs and expectations. My power is standing up for myself. They each get what they need and check-out frequently. If I can't beat them I am joining them. One of my resolutions for this New Year is dance therapy. Yes! Induced by surround sound.
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