When you see flashing lights approaching you, whether from behind or coming at you, pull your vehicle to the side of the road. Even if you didn't pay attention in driver's ed or don't remember what was taught - it is common sense and courtesy to let the emergency vehicles go around you and not get in their way. One of my biggest irritants is when I see cars ignoring the wailing sirens, or worse, purposely getting in their way.
All too often I see an ambulance or fire truck racing up the street behind me; I don't know where they are going, or what the emergency is, but I know I need to get out of their way. Not too long ago, I was driving down Ingersoll and I heard sirens, so I looked in my mirrors to see where and what it was. I saw the ambulance coming up behind me, so I signaled and pulled off to the side of the road. Out of maybe 8 cars, I was the only one to actually move out of his way. All the other cars just kept driving like there were no flashing lights or wailing sirens. I watched the ambulance try and navigate his way in and out of cars THAT WERE STILL MOVING! Just because you are safely tucked inside your vehicle does not necessarily mean the rest of your family is safe. What if that ambulance is on their way to help your child, or your mom? Would you get your ass out of the way then?
Last night, I was headed to Hy-Vee and was driving up 63rd street. A firetruck had his sirens on and lights flashing as he came towards me. Because I was in the left lane and it was a busy time of day, I couldn't really get over to the side, so I slowed to a stop where I was. For the first time in a long time, I saw all the other cars on the street respond accordingly. I was amazed and happy to see other cars pull over and those in my lane, slow to a stop. All except one dilapidated pickup truck. He appeared quite irritated that all the traffic around him had stopped and was now in his way. He made a big deal of pulling out and around the stopped cars so he could continue on his way down the road.
Please, if you see emergency vehicles coming - pull over. You never know when you are going to be the one in need of an ambulance or fire truck and I'm pretty sure you would be upset to know that they couldn't get to you because traffic wouldn't move for them.
Saturday, September 10, 2011
Friday, September 9, 2011
Our house is lived in
Occasionally, I'll see those emails that get circulated, talking about how you're never on your deathbed wishing you'd cleaned your house more. That you should be spending time loving your children rather than cleaning, blah, blah, blah. Honestly, I'm not sure what exactly those emails say because I don't read them. Anything longer than a short paragraph and I shut down, I just don't have the time.
I think though, whatever they are saying, I would have to agree. Our house is rarely, if ever, clean. Our house is lived in. I spend time every day picking up the clutter and dusting or swiffering but it doesn't make it clean by others' standards. Sometimes I feel like I'm just treading water with the housework. I used to try and do all my cleaning while Hannah was napping, but then she would get irritated upon waking and finding the house clean. "You forgot meeeeee!!!" She has her own swiffer and gets pissed if you swiffer without her.
There are those who are in the same boat as us, small children who seem to leak crumbs, following you from room to room as you attempt to clean. And then there are those with no children who don't understand how someone can live with toys on the floor, or crumbs on the rug. Some nights as we're sitting on the couch, I'll catch a glimpse of some toy peaking out from under a piece of furniture and be reminded of the giggles that came from playing with that toy. Its those giggles that make toys on the floor okay. But sometimes, it is still hard for me to not fret whenever someone who doesn't have kids sees our house. I, of course, get all the big chunks up before someone comes over, but I just can't have freshly shined, mopped floors every day in case we get a visitor.
The big one leaks small pieces of whatever her latest meal was and the little one spews milk, that's just how it is. I have accepted that our house is lived in. It isn't a display house. Maybe someday when they are past the age of spewing and leaking it will be easier to keep on top of the little messes, but right now Lance and I live in a home. A home that has small, happy, mess-making children.
I think though, whatever they are saying, I would have to agree. Our house is rarely, if ever, clean. Our house is lived in. I spend time every day picking up the clutter and dusting or swiffering but it doesn't make it clean by others' standards. Sometimes I feel like I'm just treading water with the housework. I used to try and do all my cleaning while Hannah was napping, but then she would get irritated upon waking and finding the house clean. "You forgot meeeeee!!!" She has her own swiffer and gets pissed if you swiffer without her.
There are those who are in the same boat as us, small children who seem to leak crumbs, following you from room to room as you attempt to clean. And then there are those with no children who don't understand how someone can live with toys on the floor, or crumbs on the rug. Some nights as we're sitting on the couch, I'll catch a glimpse of some toy peaking out from under a piece of furniture and be reminded of the giggles that came from playing with that toy. Its those giggles that make toys on the floor okay. But sometimes, it is still hard for me to not fret whenever someone who doesn't have kids sees our house. I, of course, get all the big chunks up before someone comes over, but I just can't have freshly shined, mopped floors every day in case we get a visitor.
The big one leaks small pieces of whatever her latest meal was and the little one spews milk, that's just how it is. I have accepted that our house is lived in. It isn't a display house. Maybe someday when they are past the age of spewing and leaking it will be easier to keep on top of the little messes, but right now Lance and I live in a home. A home that has small, happy, mess-making children.
Thursday, September 8, 2011
Dinner with friends
I have always appreciated a nice dinner out with friends. Now that I am a stay at home mom of two, a dinner out is literally that light at the end of my tunnel. Anyone who stays home with their children knows that, there really is no "staying home" part - you are usually on the go quite a bit. So being able to relax over dinner and talk with grown ups is really something to look forward to and is appreciated so much more than it used to be.
Lance and I used to go out for dinner a lot. A LOT. We were your stereotypical DINKS (double income no kids) and spent money on anything and everything we wanted to. Dining out became more of the norm than eating in. Even though I enjoyed cooking and trying new recipes, it was just easier after long work days to head out to our favorite restaurants. We'd call up some friends, who were also DINKS and say, "hey we're going for dinner, wanna meet us there?" The flexibility we had is just a distant memory now. Sometimes I miss it but mostly I just recognize that we've moved on to another chapter in our lives that is no longer about us and what we want; it is about our children and what is best for all of us.
So, when my friends and I make a date to have a dinner out, it is a special treat. If we make plans a week ahead of time, I spend many many minutes (okay, hours) of that week thinking about the fact that I have an upcoming dinner with friends and it's going to be fantastic. We usually take turns choosing the venue, but honestly it really doesn't matter where we go; its the act of going that is important. I always feel so much more myself after having the opportunity to be out without my kids. My inner me comes back out and I can relax and talk without having to think or worry because I know Lance is with the girls and everything is fine.
I'm never gone more than a couple hours and honestly, that is all it takes. I come home completely re-energized and ready to tackle another week of "mommmmmmyyyyyyyy." So, a big thank you to my friends for recharging me last night. Today is going to be a good day :)
Lance and I used to go out for dinner a lot. A LOT. We were your stereotypical DINKS (double income no kids) and spent money on anything and everything we wanted to. Dining out became more of the norm than eating in. Even though I enjoyed cooking and trying new recipes, it was just easier after long work days to head out to our favorite restaurants. We'd call up some friends, who were also DINKS and say, "hey we're going for dinner, wanna meet us there?" The flexibility we had is just a distant memory now. Sometimes I miss it but mostly I just recognize that we've moved on to another chapter in our lives that is no longer about us and what we want; it is about our children and what is best for all of us.
So, when my friends and I make a date to have a dinner out, it is a special treat. If we make plans a week ahead of time, I spend many many minutes (okay, hours) of that week thinking about the fact that I have an upcoming dinner with friends and it's going to be fantastic. We usually take turns choosing the venue, but honestly it really doesn't matter where we go; its the act of going that is important. I always feel so much more myself after having the opportunity to be out without my kids. My inner me comes back out and I can relax and talk without having to think or worry because I know Lance is with the girls and everything is fine.
I'm never gone more than a couple hours and honestly, that is all it takes. I come home completely re-energized and ready to tackle another week of "mommmmmmyyyyyyyy." So, a big thank you to my friends for recharging me last night. Today is going to be a good day :)
Wednesday, September 7, 2011
a mother's hearing
I used to always wonder how my mom knew what I was up to or even planning at times…I realize now it is because she has a mother's hearing. She heard everything. No matter where I was, or what I was doing, she heard it. I have it too, I have to say it comes in handy. No matter how sound I am sleeping, the slightest noise from either of them will wake me right up.
Early, early this morning I heard a fairly soft thud, followed by whimpering. I knew in an instant Hannah had fallen out of bed. Since it wasn't the "I'm dying" cry but more like the "I'm slightly confused" cry, I pushed Lance out of bed to go help her. One of the perks of me sleeping on the side of the bed that is far away from the door :) He hadn't heard the thud or the whimpering but was out of the bed in a flash as soon as I told him what had happened. Hannah was fine, she just needed a little soothing and reassurance. But it made me think about how many times I wake up during the night because one of them makes a peculiar noise, or how I can be completely absorbed in something and hear one of my babies over any other noise going on.
I have no doubt this super-mom hearing ability is going to come in handy as they get older. All those times I said I wasn't going to be like my mom, I know…I'm going to totally be like my mom. I will always have an ear tuned to what they are doing in case they need help, or in case they are in danger, or in case they are just being plain naughty.
My mom was not the type to just assume I was a good girl because I said I was or because she hoped I was. She was not easily snowed. Its not that she was looking for me to be naughty, but she knew I had it in me and was keeping her ears open to the sounds that would tip her off. Like when I was 16 and thought I was being soooo quiet with my contraband of liquor bottles I had stockpiled for a party. Two bottles clinked together and she freaking heard that tiny clink from 3 rooms away! Or when I was 8 and was talking to my hamster (because that's what you do when you're 8). For whatever reason I felt compelled to say "damn" and she was on me in a second. I remember I was in the den and she was all the way in the living room, yelling out to me "What did you just say?!" The bar of soap in my mouth taught me to never say that again. Not just to never say it in front of her, but not to say it anywhere because by that age I had already started to learn - Mom Heard Everything.
Early, early this morning I heard a fairly soft thud, followed by whimpering. I knew in an instant Hannah had fallen out of bed. Since it wasn't the "I'm dying" cry but more like the "I'm slightly confused" cry, I pushed Lance out of bed to go help her. One of the perks of me sleeping on the side of the bed that is far away from the door :) He hadn't heard the thud or the whimpering but was out of the bed in a flash as soon as I told him what had happened. Hannah was fine, she just needed a little soothing and reassurance. But it made me think about how many times I wake up during the night because one of them makes a peculiar noise, or how I can be completely absorbed in something and hear one of my babies over any other noise going on.
I have no doubt this super-mom hearing ability is going to come in handy as they get older. All those times I said I wasn't going to be like my mom, I know…I'm going to totally be like my mom. I will always have an ear tuned to what they are doing in case they need help, or in case they are in danger, or in case they are just being plain naughty.
My mom was not the type to just assume I was a good girl because I said I was or because she hoped I was. She was not easily snowed. Its not that she was looking for me to be naughty, but she knew I had it in me and was keeping her ears open to the sounds that would tip her off. Like when I was 16 and thought I was being soooo quiet with my contraband of liquor bottles I had stockpiled for a party. Two bottles clinked together and she freaking heard that tiny clink from 3 rooms away! Or when I was 8 and was talking to my hamster (because that's what you do when you're 8). For whatever reason I felt compelled to say "damn" and she was on me in a second. I remember I was in the den and she was all the way in the living room, yelling out to me "What did you just say?!" The bar of soap in my mouth taught me to never say that again. Not just to never say it in front of her, but not to say it anywhere because by that age I had already started to learn - Mom Heard Everything.
Tuesday, September 6, 2011
Wait…I'm how old??
I had a friend come over for some wine and catching up last week and as I was replaying some of the conversation for Lance, I suddenly remembered the funniest part of the evening. I literally forgot how old I was…
We were conversation bouncing, as you tend to do when it has been so long and there is so much to catch up on. At some point, she brings up her class reunion. She is telling me that her 15 year class reunion is next year and she isn't sure who is planning it or how it is getting planned. I was like, oh wow- MY 15 year reunion is next year too! My class is pretty much all gathered on facebook, so someone created a reunion page to help with the planning. She looks at me a little confused and asked, "your 15 year high school reunion is next year?" I was like, yep! Just to clarify things a little more, she asks, "so, you graduated in 1996?" I said, "oh no, no I graduated in 1992!" At this point, she very gently tells me, "um, it's your 20 year reunion next year." It's hard to say what expression was on my face at that point, but I do know I was pretty stunned to find that out. Somehow I lost four years, I was certain only 15 years had passed since high school.
As I was telling Lance this story, he, of course found it extremely hilarious. He reminded me that we had gone back to Wisconsin for my 15 year, remember? It was in a park, then in a bar, remember? A little belligerently, I tell him "of course, I remember, I was there…I just thought that was my 10 year."
Of course, I can appreciate the humor, otherwise I wouldn't share this story. But for shit's sake, how can I be old enough to have a 20 year reunion coming up?! Obviously my friend knew how old I was and was trying to get me to come to that realization on my own.
We were conversation bouncing, as you tend to do when it has been so long and there is so much to catch up on. At some point, she brings up her class reunion. She is telling me that her 15 year class reunion is next year and she isn't sure who is planning it or how it is getting planned. I was like, oh wow- MY 15 year reunion is next year too! My class is pretty much all gathered on facebook, so someone created a reunion page to help with the planning. She looks at me a little confused and asked, "your 15 year high school reunion is next year?" I was like, yep! Just to clarify things a little more, she asks, "so, you graduated in 1996?" I said, "oh no, no I graduated in 1992!" At this point, she very gently tells me, "um, it's your 20 year reunion next year." It's hard to say what expression was on my face at that point, but I do know I was pretty stunned to find that out. Somehow I lost four years, I was certain only 15 years had passed since high school.
As I was telling Lance this story, he, of course found it extremely hilarious. He reminded me that we had gone back to Wisconsin for my 15 year, remember? It was in a park, then in a bar, remember? A little belligerently, I tell him "of course, I remember, I was there…I just thought that was my 10 year."
Of course, I can appreciate the humor, otherwise I wouldn't share this story. But for shit's sake, how can I be old enough to have a 20 year reunion coming up?! Obviously my friend knew how old I was and was trying to get me to come to that realization on my own.
Sunday, September 4, 2011
I don't like outside
I don't like the outside, never have. I wasn't that kid who was sent outside to play, because I didn't want to. I'd much rather play office or store or school inside. We had a fantastic climbing tree in our backyard, I had no interest in climbing it. Mom leaned a ladder against it one time hoping I'd catch the "tree-climbing" bug. That didn't work out.
There are people who can spend their entire day and probably evening too, just hanging out in the wilderness of the back yard. They take great joy in looking at each and every one of their flowers and random weeds. I'm sure it is a source of pride for them, which is great. It's just not at all interesting to me. Nana and Gramps used to have a very nice backyard. I may not have enjoyed it or really liked it, but I can appreciate that it was beautiful. I know they both really loved working in it, making it what it was. There are pictures in mom's photo albums that show me in their backyard posing for the camera by random plants and flowers. What I remember enjoying more though, was her library indoors that had all their books and games.
My parents also had a fantastic yard when I was a kid. Grapevines, apple trees, gigantic garden, all sorts of plants and flowers; it was well over an acre, maybe even two but we never called it anything other than "the yard." As in, go play in the yard! No, I don't want to play in the yard! It's hard to say where or when my aversion to outside started, I just know I've always had it. I would play with the neighborhood kids when a game of baseball was started in someone else's yard or when it was dark, and time to play Ghosts in the Graveyard. Maybe as long as someone else was out there playing with me, it made it better.
These days, as a grown up, I really force myself outside. 
I want Hannah, and even Eliza, to learn to enjoy the outdoors. It seems that Hannah comes by it naturally, she's always asking to go play in the yard and she loves when we go to the park or the zoo or anything else involving the outdoors. Since Lance and I have had a house, he has always planted a garden because he enjoys working in it. I enjoy knowing we have one, but I'd rather not be *in* it doing anything. Last year, Hannah got to help in the garden and she loved it. Being able to pick and graze as she went, was right up her alley :) She'd ask daily if it was time to pick raspberries or tomatoes.
I want Hannah, and even Eliza, to learn to enjoy the outdoors. It seems that Hannah comes by it naturally, she's always asking to go play in the yard and she loves when we go to the park or the zoo or anything else involving the outdoors. Since Lance and I have had a house, he has always planted a garden because he enjoys working in it. I enjoy knowing we have one, but I'd rather not be *in* it doing anything. Last year, Hannah got to help in the garden and she loved it. Being able to pick and graze as she went, was right up her alley :) She'd ask daily if it was time to pick raspberries or tomatoes.Saturday, September 3, 2011
Me go potty now
I woke up this morning (at 6am) to cries of "me go potty now" repeated over and over with increasing urgency. Because Lance is closest to the door, I woke him up to go deal with it. And since one was up, it was just a matter of seconds before the other one woke up and starting demanding her first milk of the morning. Our roles in the morning are pretty much automatically assigned, the one with boobs deals with the baby, the other one gets Hannah.
I know when it comes to potty training, everyone has an opinion. Do it this way - no, do it this way. And everyone is also more than happy to share their own kids' potty training experiences…even if it was decades ago. I got tired of hearing, "oh, well my child was potty trained by the age of 1" or "you know, my child started potty training when they were only 6 months old". It seems that the older the remember-er, the earlier the age of training began. I chalk that up to old person remembering incorrectly syndrome. Either way, I was not going to be putting Hannah on the potty at 6 months old - shit, she couldn't even crawl, why try and potty train?
We started potty training when Hannah was around 2 years old, she started showing some interest and so I went with it. She did surprisingly well and was thrilled to be wearing big girl underwear. But we had a setback when she got a UTI. All women know the signs of one of those, they hurt, they hurt, they hurt. And here my poor little girl had one :( It made her not want to potty at all. But, once the infection cleared up, we were able to try again.
And here she is, 2.5 and almost completely potty trained. She'll tell us when she has to go potty and off she goes! She loves wearing undies to bed for nap time and waking up dry. That's the first thing out of her mouth, "I dry!! I dry!!!" "Me no go potty in my undies!!" It is so cute to see the pride in her achievement :) And this morning, she woke up after having slept 10+ hours, completely dry and asking to go potty. That's awesome! She was way proud of herself and we showered her with praise. I know that nighttime potty training is still a little ways off yet, going that long is an awful lot to expect at her age. But we're getting there. And there is still the occasional accident, she'll suddenly look up from what she is doing with wide eyes and say, "uh, me go potty now" - when she uses that tone, I know that she needs a bit of assistance getting to the bathroom quickly because she can't unlock her legs from the "I'm holding it in tightly" position.
Turns out, I'm one of those mommies who is more than happy to share potty training experiences! But, I'm also pretty sure our experiences are very normal and average. It seems to be pretty common to try, to have a setback, to try again, to succeed. However and whenever it happens, it is a big deal and it is something for them to be very proud of.
You may remember this video I took of her after a particularly proud moment on the potty. That was one of my "techniques" - let's call your friends and tell them you went potty on the potty and they'll be so proud of you too! She was a couple months past her 2nd birthday, so the vocabulary wasn't quite there, but you can certainly get the gist of what she was saying :)
I know when it comes to potty training, everyone has an opinion. Do it this way - no, do it this way. And everyone is also more than happy to share their own kids' potty training experiences…even if it was decades ago. I got tired of hearing, "oh, well my child was potty trained by the age of 1" or "you know, my child started potty training when they were only 6 months old". It seems that the older the remember-er, the earlier the age of training began. I chalk that up to old person remembering incorrectly syndrome. Either way, I was not going to be putting Hannah on the potty at 6 months old - shit, she couldn't even crawl, why try and potty train?
We started potty training when Hannah was around 2 years old, she started showing some interest and so I went with it. She did surprisingly well and was thrilled to be wearing big girl underwear. But we had a setback when she got a UTI. All women know the signs of one of those, they hurt, they hurt, they hurt. And here my poor little girl had one :( It made her not want to potty at all. But, once the infection cleared up, we were able to try again.
And here she is, 2.5 and almost completely potty trained. She'll tell us when she has to go potty and off she goes! She loves wearing undies to bed for nap time and waking up dry. That's the first thing out of her mouth, "I dry!! I dry!!!" "Me no go potty in my undies!!" It is so cute to see the pride in her achievement :) And this morning, she woke up after having slept 10+ hours, completely dry and asking to go potty. That's awesome! She was way proud of herself and we showered her with praise. I know that nighttime potty training is still a little ways off yet, going that long is an awful lot to expect at her age. But we're getting there. And there is still the occasional accident, she'll suddenly look up from what she is doing with wide eyes and say, "uh, me go potty now" - when she uses that tone, I know that she needs a bit of assistance getting to the bathroom quickly because she can't unlock her legs from the "I'm holding it in tightly" position.
Turns out, I'm one of those mommies who is more than happy to share potty training experiences! But, I'm also pretty sure our experiences are very normal and average. It seems to be pretty common to try, to have a setback, to try again, to succeed. However and whenever it happens, it is a big deal and it is something for them to be very proud of.
You may remember this video I took of her after a particularly proud moment on the potty. That was one of my "techniques" - let's call your friends and tell them you went potty on the potty and they'll be so proud of you too! She was a couple months past her 2nd birthday, so the vocabulary wasn't quite there, but you can certainly get the gist of what she was saying :)
Subscribe to:
Posts (Atom)