I don't do resolutions

I don't do resolutions.

Nope, not my thing. I like to make lists for shopping, because this old brain just can't remember everything anymore, but I hate resolutions. I just don't see the point. Life gets in the way, and then my resolutions either become moot, or never accomplished.

My philosophy is that if it's worth doing, I'll start to make it a habit without giving myself the pain of guilt for not completing a resolution.

I also don't do diets. Again, I don't see the point. I don't even weigh myself all that often. Only at the doctor's or at my parent's house, because they seem to have a really good accurate scale, but since I'm only there about 2 times a year and I might hit the doctor's once, maybe twice, a year, I don't really keep running tabs on where the weight is.

My diet philosophy is that I try to limit my sweet intake, so we don't have sweets in the house very often. (This season is an exception) I also allow myself some vices, caffeine is one of them. Instead of weight, I gauge by how my clothes (especially the ones that are as old as my son) fit. If the clothes are 9 years old and still fit, well I must be doing something right. My final determination is to boost my exercise level, which really is what I think I need. I think a stronger body that doesn't get winded chasing after kids or biking with them is really the main goal. In addition, I would hope it pulls my stress level down. That last one is more difficult and I've been fighting myself to get going since last spring. So I'll try to do better, but I am not going to make it a resolution either. Because sleep might become more important at some point.

I have some goals and objectives for the upcoming year, but they don't need a resolution, because I started them before the new year and intend to finish things soon.

So the rest of you enjoy your resolutions, and I will just enjoy the new year. As much as I can with the stinking snow that keeps coming. Someone put in a call to Mother Nature and tell her we've had enough.

New Year's Eve 1999

In lieu of Monday night memory, here's one for Tuesday.

Remember all the craziness about Y2K? Yeah, we sort of remember it, too.

I was due with Wild Child #1 at the end of November 1999.

Nope, no kid.

Waited another week and I was still working.

Nope, no kid.

Took that next week off, because surely he'd be coming anytime soon.

Nope, no kid.

Went in for inducement (do not recommend that) and 22 hours later, yes, finally a bouncing baby boy. Except he was in the hospital 2 extra days longer than me. (Long story short, he didn't pee, and then he did and I scared the poor boy half to death when I was so excited that he did pee. Oh, and don't recommend baby staying in the hospital longer than you, very hard on the nerves and the hormones).

Needless to say, I started off not having had decent sleep, and a newborn continues to make that hard. I know, all the mothers have been there and done that.

Needless to say, new parents are NOT going to go out partying on New Year's Eve when they have a two week old. Nor do they stay up for New Year's Eve. Are you kidding? We tried. We put a puzzle together. But we turned in about 9:30 pm.

The last thing I said to my husband was, "I guess we'll find out about this Y2k when he wakes up for his next feeding."

So, about 2 am, little Wild Child #1 wakes up, and Mr. Wild stumbles to his room to change his diaper (he's good like that). Lo and behold, the light comes on in the baby's room (Mr. Wild didn't want to grope around in the dark for stuff). I haul myself to the living room to nurse the tyke (don't ask, I just couldn't get the hang of nursing lying down at that point, new mom, remember?). Lo and behold, the light goes on there.

Me to Mr. Wild, "Guess that Y2k stuff didn't happen."

Hunh. Such a let down. But kind of funny all the fuss that was made over nothing. Except that I will never forget that particular New Year's Eve, because of sweet little #1, who turned 9 this year!

Christmas is about....

My wise 5 year old daughter:

"Christmas is not about eating stuff, it's about loving people." (giving mommy a hug)
"Red is for heart and green is for I love you!"
"And I'm loving you...and Daddy. Even #1."

(Ok, yeah, I know she said his name, but he's #1 here)

["After you're done with this Mommy, can I please go to Pixie Hollow.com?"]

Then I have ham, lemon apple salad, green bean casseroles and sweet potato casserole to put together.

Merry Christmas to all!

Monday Night Memory--Christmas

Ok, I'm going to make a confession. I think I'm old enough, that I can handle the razzing. I do not want anyone to make fun of me.

I believed in Santa until seventh grade.

I see some jaws dropping.

But you know what? I am really glad I did. Because I had 12 years of magic that maybe many kids did not get. I feel sorry for those youngsters who were spoiled by 1st or 2nd grade.

Do you remember the magic? Coming downstairs, or coming to the living room and seeing all those "other" presents. The ones HE brought. That magic man in the red suit, how did he do it? Because you cannot imagine that your parents could be so sneaky and secretive. I mean, when did they go shopping? They spent all their time with you!

Leaving the cookies and milk out for Santa and they were gone, eaten, drunk up! How did that happen? Because you cannot imagine that your parents would be so conniving as to eat and drink what you left.

It's very difficult for me to remember one specific Christmas before I was in seventh grade. But I do remember the awe I felt when I came down the stairs and just saw so many more presents around the tree than there had been the night before. I remember the bulging stockings we had, which were sitting on the living room chairs or sofas, because we didn't have a fireplace. We always got an apple, an orange, and nuts. I never worried that we didn't have a fireplace and chimney per se. It never seemed to be an issue. Santa was magic, so I'm sure he could adapt with the times. I remember thinking how much more sparkling the tree looked, even in the daylight without the tree's lights on. It was like the magic had cast its spell on the whole room and it was full of joy and anticipation.

When in sixth grade, I had friends talking to me about Santa, questioning it, talking about parents pushing on them to see if they were awake. I thought perhaps it wasn't Santa, but maybe there was still some kind of magic taking care of things. That was ok by me.

Seventh grade, we were in a new town. I was in a new school, a junior high. Maybe high time I let go of the fantasy. But the clincher was that Santa brought be a brand new sweatsuit, with the school name and mascot logo on it. Red and gold. It was awesome and I knew, that clearly, it was from my mom and dad. Dad was the assistant principal at this junior high. For some reason, I couldn't believe that Santa had done it. It made more sense that my dad had picked it up from school. I don't ever remember telling my parents I didn't believe anymore. The next year, I got to be Santa, by making my very little sister a bracelet for her new "Santa-brought" Cabbage Patch Kid doll. I really felt special, because I got to be "behind the magic." I knew it was also special not to spoil it for my brother and sister. I knew what they might miss if they found out so soon.

I suppose that's how the magic gets to live on. It is a grand, huge lie we tell our children every year. But the looks on their faces, and getting to remember the magic through those looks, why give it up now? For me, I'm going to try my hardest to let my kids have the magic as long as they can. Because once we're grown up, it is hard to find the magic in our own lives.

Though with children, you can still have the chance to feel it every day.

And every year, at this time of year, you know the big man is filling up his pack and sleigh and getting ready to put some magic in your house.

"Yes, Virginia, there is a Santa Claus. He exists as certainly as love and generosity and devotion exist, and you know that they abound and give to our life its highest beauty and joy. "
....

"No Santa Claus? Thank God he lives and he lives forever. A thousand years from now, maybe 10 times 10,000 years from now, he will continue to make glad the hearts of children."


--Taken from New York Sun editorial, September 20, 1897 by Francis. P. Church

Productivity

So you know about the woes of our household items kicking it just before Christmas. Nice.

Well, today was about productivity. Wild Child #2 was invited to a birthday party in the town down the road that we go for major shopping (i.e. they have the Super Walmart, Target, Best Buy, Old Navy, Sears, Hobby Lobby, Menards, a mall, you get the picture). We needed to buy the birthday child a present (Ouch, how'd I let that one slip?). We needed a new snow blower, because, shock, more snow on the way. We needed to finalize our Christmas shoppping (Santa was low on presents for the children). Finally, we needed to get this all done before 2:30 pm so Mr. Wild could get back for a D&D game (yeah, I know, don't knock it, he's a stay-at-home-dad and needs some boy time away from kids).

10:52 am All family members in the car, Wild Child 2 in her nice Christmas dress for the party.

11:08 am Hit the outskirts of said town. The traffic was fierce.

11:13 am Make it to the Super Walmart. Mr. Wild drops me and #2 off at the door.

11:16 am We head straight for the Barbies, got one picked out, started walking to the gift bags. Meet Mr. Wild and #1 near the My Little Ponies. #2 gets slightly sidetracked. Mr. Wild takes
#1 over tothe snow blowers to see what they had, we head to the gift bags.

11:25 am #2 and I have gift wrap that costs as much as the present, pay for it in line.

11:33 am On the road to the party place, Mr. Wild thinks we're going to be early.

11:45 am Traffic is pretty bad, still haven't gotten halfway.

11:55 am Arrive at party place. Drop #2 off.

12:00 pm Stop in Sears.

12:10 pm Have the snow blower picked out. I head to car to go to Target, leaving Mr. Wild to pay for blower and he and #1 to get lunch in the mall.

12:13 pm Make it to Target. Instead of looking for close parking, pick some a little farther away, so I am parked in no time, next to a cart corral.

1:07 pm All the Christmas shopping is done! Seriously. Whew! I head to check out.

1:13 pm Hardly a line at check out. But there's a line at the Starbucks. I was going to get a beverage, and I hadn't had lunch, but the lady that wasn't really in line, but jumped ahead of me, ordered 4 drinks and I didn't want to wait. Figured I could just get a coke and food at the mall. I was pretty hungry.

1:30 pm Make it to the mall, despite the traffic (frontage roads were a good choice). Walk down to the food court, but nothing appealed to me and I didn't have any cash.

1:40 pm Walk over to the party place and sit with Mr. Wild and #1 while #2 is watching presents unwrapped and plays a few more games.

1:45 pm Mr. Wild goes to pick up the snow blower.

1:55 pm Finally get #2 to go pick out prizes. Mr. Wild runs in and says he only can be parked there 5 minutes. Takes #1 with him.

2:00 pm #2 decides she needs to go to the bathroom, so we are delayed gettting the coat on.

2:13 pm By now I have a blazing headache from lack of food and caffeine (yes, I am addicted)

2:25 pm Drive by Mickey D's to get me a Happy Meal and diet coke. Oh, sweet relief!

2:42 pm Make it back to our town with everything.

Mr. Wild sets up the new snow blower in anticipation of tomorrow and puts the oil in, so he's ready. He was a little later than he meant to get to the game, but we did well.

Old fashioned living

What an interesting day. I say that with a touch of sarcasm. Snowfall of at least 12 inches hit us last night. A week ago, the snowblower started having problems and has been in the shop. Yesterday, the shop told us there was nothing we could do to fix it, well, not unless we wanted to spend $250 on the repair. We decided we may as well get a new one.

No snow blower 2 days ago was fine. The snow was light and fluffy and not too deep. Aside from getting up at 6 am to help Mr. Wild shovel (which really wasn't too much shoveling, we just pushed the snow out of the way for the most part), it wasn't that bad.

I knew today would be worse. Mr. Wild was a bit impatient wanting to get out and get rid of the snow. It was about lunch time when he could borrow a neighbor's snow blower. This time it was 12" of heavier snow and it was a lot of work for him even with the snow blower. More snow on Sunday, and we have to now think about shelling out over 300 bucks for a new one.

However, to top it all off, the water heater is also on the fritz. Water from the hot tap was ice cold Wednesday night when I tried to give the kids a bath. We just skipped the baths. Mr. Wild flipped the breaker switch Wednesday night, and when I got up Thursday, thank God, there was hot water. I could shower for work and gave the kids a bath Thursday night. We were going to call the plumber on Thursday, before that worked, because we knew Friday would be a bad snow storm clean up and it would make it harder for people to get here. We thought we were in the clear, however, and that we'd be fine.

Friday morning, I tried to wash my hands with hot water. No hot water. Argh. No shower for me. No hot water for dishes. No hot water for washing hands. Grrrr... So, Mr. Wild called the plumber, who said he'd call back. He didn't call back until 7:00 pm! In the meantime, I heated water on the stove so I could do dishes, because I couldn't do anything else in the kitchen with the mess all over the counter. I was going to make cookies, but didn't really have the room with dirty dishes and so forth.

I talked to one of my friends during the day and she joked that we were just wanting to live in the past with the hot water on the stove and the shoveling things ourselves. Which, in normal circumstances, might be funny, because we're both history museum professionals. But today, really not very funny. Mr. Wild thought he would be handy and it was worth a try. He tried to remove and change the elements in the water heater (which is electric). There's so much sediment in the bottom, that he can't get an element out. He had the whole house water shut down, so we weren't flushing toilets while he ran to the hardware store. And I needed to finish dinner and couldn't even wash the vegetable I wanted to chop up. I was so desperate, that I grabbed some ice cubes and microwaved them to try to get even a little water. It worked, but we are both frustrated with the running around and no results.

So, I'm here, waiting for my hot water to boil on the stove, so I can at least take a maybe warm bath, Mr. Wild is worn out from shoveling and snow blowing. As he said at dinner, he likes his modern conveniences and doesn't like having to go without. I have to agree. I may like the historical past, it may be fun to visit, but bring me back to my modern convenient present anytime.

Grrr...I'm going to check and see if my water is starting to boil.

What I learned from a nine year old boys' slumber party...

First, do not let your husband talk you into inviting more boys than you are really prepared to handle. I was going to have my son only invite 4 boys, so we'd have 5 at most. But Mr. Wild said, "We should invite more, because you know some are not going to come." Then, about 5 days before the party, all boys had RSVP'd that they could come. Gulp, that makes 8! In the end it was 7, but it was still a lot.

Second, tell the parents you are actually going to feed their sons even with the party starting at 6 pm. We had three, maybe four, out of the seven who had actually already eaten. So the three large pizzas were not necessary. Lots of leftover pizza in our house.

Third, it's very hard to keep the attention of boys at ages 8 and 9. Trying to get them to be quiet to listen to how to play a game or even to sit still for a Harry Potter movie. It was too bad a couple of them couldn't stay in one place, because my son really wanted to sit and watch the movie all the way through. It made the movie experience not so good for the rest of them.

Fourth, you never know what you're going to get, behavior-wise. There were two boys I would have been much happier if they had never showed up. And these boys aren't what I would think of as ordinary boys, they were all of varying degrees of higher intelligence. I guess I assumed they would be better behaved. I suppose I should understand more that "boys will be boys" and that it takes all kinds of parents that make all kinds of boys. I hope my son isn't someone that parents want to send home when he goes to parties.

Fifth, boys can sleep on the floor in the winter in sleeping bags and be comfortable enough. Mr. Wild was all worried about the cold and them sleeping on the floor. He was afraid it would be too cold. No dice, they were fine. They actually did all hunker down and sleep by 10:30 pm. I'm sure if it had been girls they would have stayed up talking longer.

Sixth, homemade waffles, let alone pumpkin waffles, will impress today's crowd of pre-made toaster waffle kids. This is a sad statement on our society when at least three boys specifically made statements to me that they had never had waffles made from scratch. I thank my friend, MS, for getting me into more made from scratch things like waffles and scones and dinner in general. At least my kids will remember making waffles in a real waffle iron and maybe will do it with their kids, too. I will say, the boys were very nice in complimenting me on the waffles.

"These waffles are great Mrs. Wild!"

That was a pretty good end to the event.




P.S.-Did I mention we had a Harry Potter theme? Mr. Wild's handy work on the tokens for the game Aurors and Death Eaters found here. For Herbology class we made "dirt" sundaes, "repotting" our screaming mandrakes.