Death to the Siesta

I've done something dumb.  Or brilliant. Or both.  sigh.

I have believed in "The Siesta!" here at the house for years.  Preaching it.  Touting it to my friends.  Every kid down for a nap every day!  Until they are 18!  Everyone needs quiet whether you sleep or not!  This AMAZING nap time ensures I will get at least 3 hours (3?!  wha?) to myself everyday.  This is the time I choose to eat bonbons and watch muh stories.  (Wrong.  I scrub toilets and fold clothes and one million small things).  BUT.

Something has gone awry.

These heathens are growing up.  Lola is getting into stuff like a Tasmanian devil.  Max is nuts.  Z constantly wants to play.  I don't know how to get everyone to settle down enough to thoroughly teach a Cooper in 4 hours a day what he needs to survive at Life.  Enter my 3 hour heaven.  hmph. 

Things are running a bit smoother now.  Handwriting and a catechism activity in the morning while chaos ensues, Phonics, Math, Spelling and Vocabulary during naptime.  It works so much better because he can look into my eyeballs and know I'm paying attention and not chasing monkeys.  In the evening while I'm making dinner we pick up any little pieces we may have missed.  I'm just having an interesting time now trying to not put History on the backburner all the dang time.  Coop's just not that into it and its so easy to just... not do it.  I'm tired of worrying about History.  (Or Science...  but I think I'll tackle that during the summer...)

Giving up my precious alone time hasn't been too hard, I guess.  It's actually begun flowing pretty well.  I'm still working out the kinks.  Coop walked up to me this morning with a Goosebumps book and said, "I'd like to read this, but when do I have quiet time now?"  I hung my head.  sighed.  twisted my face.  rolled my eyes.

"I dunno. I'll figure it out."

Five for Friday

Oh, the mis-adventures of another week behind us.

1.  First off... I'm not turning the heat on, damnit.  Yes, it is literally freezing here in the south.  I am accustomed to warm temperatures and therefore NOT accustomed to larger than necessary gas bills.  SO.  I'm standing my ground.  I am crazy cold natured.  Which is why the Hubs commented the other day that I will 'cave' before long.  Wrong.  My wallet trumps my comfort.  Sad?  Sure.  But just like I torture family and guests during that awkward time at the end of spring and into the summer with no air conditioning, I am not turning on the heat 'til at least December.  (I do believe the 3rd toe on my left foot is now dead due to frost bite, but damnit.  I am sticking to my guns.)

2.  Speaking of the heat or lack thereof, it has made me look for resourceful ways to heat the house.  For instance, I am currently automatically cleaning the oven for Thanksgiving.  No, not because I care what my family thinks of my absolutely disgusting oven, but because I thought I remembered that it usually makes the house unbearably hot.  Apparently this new-ish oven doesn't work as my last stone-age-beast did.  My 3rd toe is still dead, but the house is crazy stinky. 

3.  I am as thankful as the next gal during this time of Thanksgiving.  Now shut up about it.  I think I must have 30 facebook friends posting for the next 24 days (tell me its 24 and not the next 30...)  everything they can think of that they are thankful for.  Yes, this is my problem.... post away...  but ima just scroll on past if you don't mind.  Seems like excuses to brag sometimes. 

4.  The Hubs and I have realized lately that Z has a very intelligent and quirky sense of humor.  Example:  the other night a documentary just happened to be on PBS about 'Laugh-In'.  It was really just on as background noise...  but hey, Laugh-In is great children's television, right...?  I'm talkin to the Bro on the phone when I realize Z is not just laughing a little at the TV, he is laughing A LOT.  In all the right places.  I don't know that he understood all of it, and I'm hoping he didn't, but he hit all the right queues.  This happens a lot.  The kid has a great laugh and its always been one of his best qualities.  He can follow a joke like no other.

5.  I may have never been a guest blogger on another blog, but I was written about on one today.. does that count as awesome?  I'll let you judge: Cliche Little Blog.  I liked this article for two reasons.  1 - it boosted my self esteem somehow.  I knew we lived life this way, but when people can tell from an objective point of view that the choices you have made are positive ones, it kinda kindles the spirit.  The Hubs and I have been talking a lot lately about 'would-we-be-different-if-we-had-money' sort of situations.  I think we've decided we hope not... we kinda like our Poor and Resourceful attitude.  (Dear God, please do not take this to mean we would not love a little more some cushion in our world.  Amen.)  2 - It's always nice to remember that money is not what makes the world go 'round.  There are days that I think we could argue against that, and the days have been many lately it seems.  Focus, focus, focus. 

well... going to go try to bring my dead toe back to life...  besides, it seems my mouse hand is going the way of the toe.  brr.  Happy Weekend!

Eff Baths.

I hear a lot, "you know, you should take time for yourself, take a hot bath or something."  This is usually from well meaning patients at the office.  I usually reply with, "yeah, so anyway..."  Here is the perfect scenario that occurred last night to demonstrate my whatever attitude when it comes to 'relaxing'.

I don't do baths.  I usually only take 'em when I need to shave my legs and I'm too damn lazy to stand up to do it.  TMI?  you're welcome.  Last night was one of those nights.  Coop has picked a book from the library that is 359 pages long.  While the Hubs and I are glad he's so into books, we realize that we are the narrators and we are too tired by whatever time people finally begin to fall out around the house.  Luckily, last night Daddy was chosen as reader du jour and I was off the hook.  I am relishing the fact I may have mmm... 10 minutes? to myself.  It was at minute three that I heard a rustling at the door.  I assumed it was either a lost squirrel or a child that had wandered from his bed.  I whispered, "Z, is that you?"  No answer.  Louder:  "Z, is that you?"

"Hey, mom!  Why's your mirror so dusty??"

I know from this side of the door he's standing beside the full length mirror on the other side of the door.  I am a mom.  I know he has not come to ask about my dusty mirror.

"What are you doing, Z?"

Silence.

more silence.

Finally, "Mom, will you wipe my butt??"

Sigh.  To someone with no kids, this probably sounds bizarre and grotesque.  Me?  Totally used to it.  I sat there.  Sometimes I honestly think, "DAMNIT!  Why me!?"  But this time my brain reminded me of a lull in silence much earlier in the day.  Over the den of little people climbing everywhere and screaming, I heard Z say to Coop, "You're a good bruder, Coop.  I wike you a wot".  Ah.  warm fuzzies.  "Ok. I can wipe your butt.  Just give me a moment... AND GET BACK IN YOUR BATHROOM."  (This was followed by a lecture about lessons in wiping his own dang butt.)

I came back to my nice warm bath and savored a moment... then another voice came to the door.  This time I yelled, "What do YOU want?!"  Coop says quietly, "When you get done, can you come downstairs and give me a kiss and hug?"

oops.

"Yes, give me a moment."

Eff baths.

I guess sleeping is my "me" time?