I wish I had a lovely grand excuse of why I haven't blogged in a month - say, a trek to Antarctica or a month in the Pyrenees - but I don't. The school year started and, attendant upon that, all manner of other obligations which have essentially shredded any free time I have into unusable ribbons.
Katie started Kindergarten! The good news: she loves it and her teacher says she's a role model in the classroom. The bad news: I now have to get up at 7:15. Now, I know, 7:15 isn't all that early but, when you work evenings until 1 a.m. or so, it's pretty damn on the 0:dark:30 side of things. It's been hard, too, on Evie who both needs more sleep than she's getting and misses her big sister. She's adjusting slowly but surely. We've started music class again and gym starts next Wednesday; that will help. She has discovered she likes having Mama to herself... and would Matthew please not get in the way! I now am in the astonishing position of having my children fight over who gets to sit with/on me. As annoying as it can be at times, I'm grateful they want to.
Speaking of Evie... I got an awful lesson in my own need to slow down mid-month. The girls had been put to bed but were raising holy Hell. John went to a meeting. I went upstairs to put them back to bed so I could go to work. Livid is probably an accurate term. The crazed whooping should have warned me what I would face. The room, which had been tidy an hour before, was calf-deep in *stuff* from bow to stern; the girls had stripped their pajamas and their beds, strewing bedclothes and bed clothes around like so many crumpled newspapers on a windy evening. I made a (sorry assed) attempt to clear a path and finally just waded into the center of the room. I put Evie's mattress back on her bed. I put the sheet back on the mattress. I couldn't find the pillow or the top sheet or the blanket or Fuzzy Blankie.
I grabbed Evie from where she stood screaming on Katie's bed and, turning around, intended to put her in her bed. I should have moved instead of just turning. It was a little too far and she slipped out of my hands and hit her mouth on the metal of the bed (the girls have wrought iron beds). It was second only to the time I found Katie putting a plastic bag over Evie's head in heartstopping moments. Blood. Everywhere. I was having such a hard time getting it stopped that we called 911. They took one look (and not even a bend down and look kind of look) and said, "she's going to need stitches". By then she'd stopped bleeding (it actually stopped while I was still on the phone with the dispatcher- I looked down and Little Miss Neatnik was stripping her blood-covered shirt saying "ucky!!") so we refused transport and I called John. I'm sure I scared the shit out of him since he couldn't hear much over Evie's screaming other than "I need you to come home". He called 3 times on the way from his meeting and still couldn't figure out what was wrong until we got home.
We gave Evie a choice of who took her to CCMC and, amazingly, she chose me. So, John stayed with the other two and got to clean up the blood and I went off to the hospital for the next 6 hours. (I can't say enough about the staff at Children's - they are wonderful.) She wound up with a radiograph, an iv (for the ketamine), 6 stitches - two under her lip, two on her lip, and two between her upper gum and the inside of her upper lip.
And I wound up with a mother lode of guilt. If I hadn't have been in such a hurry, if I had been more patient, if I hadn't been furious... would I have been more careful, would I have cleaned the space first so I could move, would I have moved more slowly? I don't know. I am clumsy by nature and do overestimate what I'm capable of; I also like to think that, even angry, I'd never hurt my children but then something like this happens and I can't help but wonder. Needless to say, I'm a heck of a lot more cautious about moving children now and keeping a closer guard than ever on my temper. She is doing well now, fortunately, and it doesn't look like there's going to be any scarring. And she still loves me. A fact for which I am SO incredibly grateful.
What else happened this month... dance started up as did religious ed. We're, so far, handling our induction into the public school system with only minor bemusement (shocks me that kids don't go to Open house but do go to parent-teacher conferences - makes no sense to me at all!). The amount of paper that comes home from school is just... something else.
Two choirs have been up and running for a month and I go to my first CONCORA rehearsal tomorrow. October is going to be as bad as December usually is for vocal commitments - this week: 4 rehearsals (2 of which are 3 hours apiece) and 2 services. Next week: 3 rehearsals (but only 1 3 hour jobbie!) and 3 services... etc., etc. Don't get me wrong; I love every minute of it but it's exhausting!
I got and finished an order for 7 bridesmaids necklaces, got another custom order, and a donation request from a repeat customer. I really wish I had more time to create. It makes me a little crazy when I can't.
Then, of course, Katie officially turned 5 and Baby Matthew is no longer a baby, having turned 1 on the 16th.
And that pretty much covers September. October anyone?
Showing posts with label kids. Show all posts
Showing posts with label kids. Show all posts
Jun 29, 2010
Ten Reasons My Cat and My Kids are Alike
10. Loud wailing noises are typical, particularly in chorus and when you're on the phone.
9. Speaking of the phone, both are a hazard to the phone cord.
8. Both take over the bed.
7. Neither likes to stay put.
6. Wetting their heads is hazardous to everyone involved.
5. Both frequently demand to be fed then turn up their noses at the presented meal.
4. Both like to fill your lap as you sit on the toilet, regardless of your wishes in the matter.
3. Cheerios or fur, it's all the same when it comes to the need to vacuum.
2. Both creep into your bed when you're peaceful asleep and wait for you 2" away from your face.
1. Diapers, Litter Box - enough said.
9. Speaking of the phone, both are a hazard to the phone cord.
8. Both take over the bed.
7. Neither likes to stay put.
6. Wetting their heads is hazardous to everyone involved.
5. Both frequently demand to be fed then turn up their noses at the presented meal.
4. Both like to fill your lap as you sit on the toilet, regardless of your wishes in the matter.
3. Cheerios or fur, it's all the same when it comes to the need to vacuum.
2. Both creep into your bed when you're peaceful asleep and wait for you 2" away from your face.
1. Diapers, Litter Box - enough said.
May 27, 2010
once upon a time
heels click
across
the tiled corridor
hair twists smoothly
upward
skirt falls
neatly
jacket tailored
appearance
polished
not just
competency,
excellence
efficiency,
organization
appreciated
i was
good
at what i did
across
the tiled corridor
hair twists smoothly
upward
skirt falls
neatly
jacket tailored
appearance
polished
not just
competency,
excellence
efficiency,
organization
appreciated
i was
good
at what i did
Sep 28, 2009
A Dash of This, A Pinch of That
- Why is my camera always on the other side of the room when I want it? I looked over while Evie was eating dinner tonight. She was skewering her hot dog slices on the pointed tip of a big fat crayon before using the crayon as a utensil. Note to self: be sure to provide a fork in the future!
- Matthew appears to be back on the weight gaining track. He'd lost, then gained in the hospital, then lost some more as of the end of last week. My thought is that second loss was due to me stopping the morphine (damn!) - either the increased pain level inhibited milk let-down or maybe he was missing the dope hitting his system through the milk. At any rate, hopefully we're back on the gain train for good now.
- The Syracuse Medical Cootie Problem continues - this time, the ER visits spread outside the family to my sister's friend (chest pains, she's ok now).
- Oh, and we, too, were visited by the Syracuse Medical Cooties. Evie wound up in the ER at the children's hospital Saturday night after having possibly eaten part of a mushroom in the yard. (She's fine - a dose of activated charcoal and some observation.) Two observations on the event: (1) the CT Poison Control people are great and (2) it's very helpful that our pediatrician is a bigwig at the children's hospital. He called to let them know John was coming with Evie and he didn't have to wait on queue at all.
- Feeling a bit isolated these days. It's funny how even the small interactions with store clerks or the preschool teachers can make one feel connected to the world and how deprived one feels when one can't even leave the house. I do realize, of course, that people are busy and this, too, shall pass; but, as my friend Marla says, "yeah, like a kidneystone!"
- I am grateful for John, who has been an enormous help. It's hard for me to accept the help. I feel guilty that I'm not doing more. I forget (though, to his vast credit, he does not) that feeding the baby is work too. Even though it takes up probably a good 8 hours a day (8-12 feedings of 30-60 minutes each, then the concurrent diaper changes)k, I'm just sitting on my ass while doing it so it makes me feel quite the lazy bum.
- Particularly when the girls are being truly wretched. Jealousy, exhaustion - not good for anyone's temper and the combination is really ... unpleasant. Evie is just getting into the tantrum age anyway and has taken to beating on her older sister (to Katie's credit, for the most part, she just bursts into hysterics instead of hitting back).
- I'm back at work (since last Wednesday, a week after my c-section) 10 hours a week. Thank the Lord in heaven it's from home but, still, between that in the evenings, watching 3 kids all day, recovering from abdominal surgery, and being woken 2-3x night, I am too tired to even get myself carried away in a good make believe.
- Next doc appointment on Wednesday. Should get ok'd to drive but, still, Matthew's too young to really go anywhere - particularly with all the H1N1 crud. But maybe I can get a spare half hour to just go for a drive or something by myself some night. As long as I'm back by the next feeding (an hour and a half apart lately - methinks a growth spurt is coming on).
Later.
Aug 12, 2009
When Does Parenting Become Fun?
I had to leave music class today 2 songs in because Katie was being so disruptive (despite multiple warnings and a stern discussion before class) it just wasn't fair to the other kids n the class.
Now, granted, I think too much. But, in thinking too much today, I believe I've hit on why I get so very angry with Katie when she gets in these long, long spells of rotten behavior: she takes every drop of joy there could be out of parenting.
I want to like her. I want to have fun with her. I want to share the things I see that I find cool. I want to take her neat places and giggle together. Her behavior precludes it. I have to be the hardass every minute and it gets wearing. If I'd wanted to be a drill sergeant, I'd've enlisted.
I really want to like her and it makes me very, very sad that I don't.
Now, granted, I think too much. But, in thinking too much today, I believe I've hit on why I get so very angry with Katie when she gets in these long, long spells of rotten behavior: she takes every drop of joy there could be out of parenting.
I want to like her. I want to have fun with her. I want to share the things I see that I find cool. I want to take her neat places and giggle together. Her behavior precludes it. I have to be the hardass every minute and it gets wearing. If I'd wanted to be a drill sergeant, I'd've enlisted.
I really want to like her and it makes me very, very sad that I don't.
Aug 4, 2009
Mothering Fail
So, today, we're trying a new experiment.
Whereas Katie can't be trusted to sleep in the guest room, and
Whereas putting her and Evie in the same room for nap was an unmitigated failure, and
Whereas she clearly isn't getting enough sleep,
Now, therefore, she is lying in a little blanket bed on the living room floor under my reluctantly watchful eye. She has a stack of books and a big stuffed animal. I'm playing new agey meditation music on the computer.
So far, I've had to remind her of the no-talking rule 6 times. She's been (sort of) down 10 minutes.
The sleep thing is getting to be a real issue because her behavior is exponentially worse when she's tired. She's 10 times as sassy, 10 times as defiant, and 10 times as disobedient. Given that she's really rather sassy, defiant, and disobedient in the first place (well, she is almost 4!), it makes for days filled with parenting crises of confidence.
I get tired of spending what feels like 90% of my time yelling at her. It's not fair to her. It's not fair to Evie. It's not fair to me. I don't like my household to be wreathed in such negativity but I also know it's my job to civilize my child. I can't release her out into the wild without such things as manners, knowing when to shut the fuck up, how to be considerate to others, yada yada yada.
This boils down, at this point, to teaching her that disobedience has a price. The trick, however, is proving to be finding the price that will make her realize it's not worth it.
Take picking up. I know, for a fact, that the child is perfectly capable of picking up; she's done it on multiple occasions. Sure, things may not always be in the most logical or "proper" spot afterward but, hey, she's 3. But, like most of us, she'd far rather play than pick up. Now, just so you know, I don't expect her to remember to pick up. She gets reminders - several - and some direction in how to go about it (even though she's proven she can do it without direction when she wants).
So, in comes Sol, the Pick Up Fairy. (Personally, I always imagined the Pick Up Fairy to be a girl - my husband, however, insists the PUF's name is Sol (for S.O.L.). Makes for an interesting visual since it's already been established that the PUF wears striped tights. Of course, it does explain the bowler hat - it covers his bald spot.) Sol recently added our house to his rounds. After Katie goes to bed, he comes and takes the toys she's left out. Some, he'll let me put away for Evie, some go off to Ukrainian orphanages. Sounds like it'd be a pretty good incentive to pick up, right? Yeah. So did we. So far? Not so much. We get a lot of "well, I didn't like that anyway!" and "I don't want it!" Yeah, she does the martyr thing. I absolutely hate taking my child's playthings away but, if she refuses to even make the attempt to take care of them, she doesn't deserve them. It usually leaves me on the verge of tears.
Another constant is refusing to put on her shoes. She knows how. She's actually quite good at it. But, if she doesn't feel like putting on her shoes, she refuses to. She'll sit there like a lump. Like after swimming class yesterday. Despite the pavement being "too hot!!!", would she put them on? No. She wound up having to go to bed without supper as soon as we got home. It seems an overreaction to the situation, I know, but it's so much bigger than the shoes. Because, basically, it all boils down to this: Do what you're told when you're told. And she doesn't... consistently, unremittingly doesn't.
Ironically, my 15 1/2 month old is far more obedient that Katie has ever been. She'll even willingly help pick up, she holds her foot out to have her shoes put on, she tries to help when we dress her (all three things, Katie never did). It gives me a little hope. Because, otherwise, I feel like a total failure as a mother.
Oh, by the way, now, 1/2 hour into naptime, she's had to move to her time out spot for the remainder of nap (with blanket, pillow, and stuffed animal) because she simply wouldn't stop talking.
Whereas Katie can't be trusted to sleep in the guest room, and
Whereas putting her and Evie in the same room for nap was an unmitigated failure, and
Whereas she clearly isn't getting enough sleep,
Now, therefore, she is lying in a little blanket bed on the living room floor under my reluctantly watchful eye. She has a stack of books and a big stuffed animal. I'm playing new agey meditation music on the computer.
So far, I've had to remind her of the no-talking rule 6 times. She's been (sort of) down 10 minutes.
The sleep thing is getting to be a real issue because her behavior is exponentially worse when she's tired. She's 10 times as sassy, 10 times as defiant, and 10 times as disobedient. Given that she's really rather sassy, defiant, and disobedient in the first place (well, she is almost 4!), it makes for days filled with parenting crises of confidence.
I get tired of spending what feels like 90% of my time yelling at her. It's not fair to her. It's not fair to Evie. It's not fair to me. I don't like my household to be wreathed in such negativity but I also know it's my job to civilize my child. I can't release her out into the wild without such things as manners, knowing when to shut the fuck up, how to be considerate to others, yada yada yada.
This boils down, at this point, to teaching her that disobedience has a price. The trick, however, is proving to be finding the price that will make her realize it's not worth it.
Take picking up. I know, for a fact, that the child is perfectly capable of picking up; she's done it on multiple occasions. Sure, things may not always be in the most logical or "proper" spot afterward but, hey, she's 3. But, like most of us, she'd far rather play than pick up. Now, just so you know, I don't expect her to remember to pick up. She gets reminders - several - and some direction in how to go about it (even though she's proven she can do it without direction when she wants).
So, in comes Sol, the Pick Up Fairy. (Personally, I always imagined the Pick Up Fairy to be a girl - my husband, however, insists the PUF's name is Sol (for S.O.L.). Makes for an interesting visual since it's already been established that the PUF wears striped tights. Of course, it does explain the bowler hat - it covers his bald spot.) Sol recently added our house to his rounds. After Katie goes to bed, he comes and takes the toys she's left out. Some, he'll let me put away for Evie, some go off to Ukrainian orphanages. Sounds like it'd be a pretty good incentive to pick up, right? Yeah. So did we. So far? Not so much. We get a lot of "well, I didn't like that anyway!" and "I don't want it!" Yeah, she does the martyr thing. I absolutely hate taking my child's playthings away but, if she refuses to even make the attempt to take care of them, she doesn't deserve them. It usually leaves me on the verge of tears.
Another constant is refusing to put on her shoes. She knows how. She's actually quite good at it. But, if she doesn't feel like putting on her shoes, she refuses to. She'll sit there like a lump. Like after swimming class yesterday. Despite the pavement being "too hot!!!", would she put them on? No. She wound up having to go to bed without supper as soon as we got home. It seems an overreaction to the situation, I know, but it's so much bigger than the shoes. Because, basically, it all boils down to this: Do what you're told when you're told. And she doesn't... consistently, unremittingly doesn't.
Ironically, my 15 1/2 month old is far more obedient that Katie has ever been. She'll even willingly help pick up, she holds her foot out to have her shoes put on, she tries to help when we dress her (all three things, Katie never did). It gives me a little hope. Because, otherwise, I feel like a total failure as a mother.
Oh, by the way, now, 1/2 hour into naptime, she's had to move to her time out spot for the remainder of nap (with blanket, pillow, and stuffed animal) because she simply wouldn't stop talking.
Sep 6, 2008
Slipping Through My Fingers
"Schoolbag in hand, she leaves home in the early morning,
waving goodbye with an absent-minded smile."
My baby started preschool this week. How can she possibly be old enough?? She's going 2 days a week all day (9:30 - 2:30). The night before , I lay out her clothes and pack her lunch. They want me to pack 2 snacks and a meal - Katie's always been a grazer so I'm not sure how this going to work. How very odd to be packing her lunch! Cheese sandwich, carrots and ranch dip... goldfish crackers... Hmmm... water, I guess. She's not much of a water drinker but I'm not sure how they'd feel about me packing a bottle of milk even with the coldpack. (I did wind up doing that on the second day and it was fine, btw.)
The big day arrives. I drag my sorry-work-nights-ass out of bed at 7:30, drink my diet smoothie, roust her at 8, get her dressed and fixed for breakfast, then roust the baby (and it goes against my grain to wake a sleeping baby), get her dressed and fixed for breakfast, and then it's suddenly time to go. Time to go take my sweet (mostly), innocent (mostly), little (mostly) one and leave her in some stranger's care. Ack!
All dressed up - heading to the car. We're both (slightly shakily) optimistic. She just so darned cute. I'm a little frustrated that the nametag they want her to wear won't stay stuck.
We had to wait outside for a few minutes among a crowd of other excited/nervous/anxious kids/parents/grandparents/caregivers. They don't open the doors until 9:30.
She knows several of the kids in her class from various town toddler classes, etc. She's ever so calm as we sign in, hang her backpack and her lunch up, show her the bathroom. One little girl, whose mother has already left, is sobbing and won't be consoled even as Katie tries to hug her. (The girl's brother, a year older - thus having a year of experience under his belt, has clearly already written her off and is off playing with friends from the last year.) Katie gets distracted by a puzzle. I ask if she has to go to the bathroom before Mama leaves. Nope. Ok, then, I guess we need to go now. I'm ok. I'm not crying. A bit shaky but not crying. John and I and the baby leave without fanfare and head to our cars. One mom who left after us and who is a family friend said, "she looked around at where she last saw you and said 'Mommy? Daddy?!', then looked around the room and said it again, more anxiously, then turned to me and said 'pick me up?'" Her daughter is a first year too.
"...I watch her go with a surge of that well-known sadness
and I have to sit down for a while..."
I was ok during the day though it was rather surreal. I got some work-work done. I took care of the baby. The time to pick her up came quickly. We got there a couple minutes early. All the kids were playing outside and we had to walk around the playyard to get to the pick up gate. She didn't notice at all, so engrossed was she! Ok, now the tears really did threaten. I was pretty choked up.
"... the feeling that I'm losing her forever
and without really entering her world..."
"...Then when she's gone
There's that odd melancholy feeling
And a sense of guilt I can't deny...
I was going to be this great mom whose kid could read and count before preschool, the one whose kid spoke German as well as English, etc. God, where does the time go?
"Well, some of those we did, but most we didn't,
and why I just don't know.
... Sometimes I wish that I could freeze the picture
And save it from the funny tricks of time, slipping through my fingers..."
waving goodbye with an absent-minded smile."
My baby started preschool this week. How can she possibly be old enough?? She's going 2 days a week all day (9:30 - 2:30). The night before , I lay out her clothes and pack her lunch. They want me to pack 2 snacks and a meal - Katie's always been a grazer so I'm not sure how this going to work. How very odd to be packing her lunch! Cheese sandwich, carrots and ranch dip... goldfish crackers... Hmmm... water, I guess. She's not much of a water drinker but I'm not sure how they'd feel about me packing a bottle of milk even with the coldpack. (I did wind up doing that on the second day and it was fine, btw.)
The big day arrives. I drag my sorry-work-nights-ass out of bed at 7:30, drink my diet smoothie, roust her at 8, get her dressed and fixed for breakfast, then roust the baby (and it goes against my grain to wake a sleeping baby), get her dressed and fixed for breakfast, and then it's suddenly time to go. Time to go take my sweet (mostly), innocent (mostly), little (mostly) one and leave her in some stranger's care. Ack!
All dressed up - heading to the car. We're both (slightly shakily) optimistic. She just so darned cute. I'm a little frustrated that the nametag they want her to wear won't stay stuck.
We had to wait outside for a few minutes among a crowd of other excited/nervous/anxious kids/parents/grandparents/caregivers. They don't open the doors until 9:30.
She knows several of the kids in her class from various town toddler classes, etc. She's ever so calm as we sign in, hang her backpack and her lunch up, show her the bathroom. One little girl, whose mother has already left, is sobbing and won't be consoled even as Katie tries to hug her. (The girl's brother, a year older - thus having a year of experience under his belt, has clearly already written her off and is off playing with friends from the last year.) Katie gets distracted by a puzzle. I ask if she has to go to the bathroom before Mama leaves. Nope. Ok, then, I guess we need to go now. I'm ok. I'm not crying. A bit shaky but not crying. John and I and the baby leave without fanfare and head to our cars. One mom who left after us and who is a family friend said, "she looked around at where she last saw you and said 'Mommy? Daddy?!', then looked around the room and said it again, more anxiously, then turned to me and said 'pick me up?'" Her daughter is a first year too.
"...I watch her go with a surge of that well-known sadness
and I have to sit down for a while..."
I was ok during the day though it was rather surreal. I got some work-work done. I took care of the baby. The time to pick her up came quickly. We got there a couple minutes early. All the kids were playing outside and we had to walk around the playyard to get to the pick up gate. She didn't notice at all, so engrossed was she! Ok, now the tears really did threaten. I was pretty choked up.
"... the feeling that I'm losing her forever
and without really entering her world..."
"...Then when she's gone
There's that odd melancholy feeling
And a sense of guilt I can't deny...
I was going to be this great mom whose kid could read and count before preschool, the one whose kid spoke German as well as English, etc. God, where does the time go?
"Well, some of those we did, but most we didn't,
and why I just don't know.
... Sometimes I wish that I could freeze the picture
And save it from the funny tricks of time, slipping through my fingers..."
Jul 20, 2008
Katie's New Room
Ok, it's not so new anymore but, by the time I had time to take pictures of it, it was so messy that I wouldn't. We had to clean the house for the Christening however and I finally took some pictures.
Some brief history: when we started, the room had NO trim. Nothing around the windows, nothing around the doors, no mopboard, nothing around the closed. It was also panelled in that lovely paneling that screams 1970s rec room - you know the kind, came in big sheets, was dark with thick weird black lines down it? The paneling was also shot full of holes and, yes, I do mean shot as in BBs - lots and lots of BBs. We filled the holes and painted the paneling. We'd debated ripping it off but the idea of how bad the plaster and lathe behind it might be scared us out of that idea. Also, the radiator covers for the baseboard hotwater heat were all missing so we had to put those in too since the fin that covers the pipes is sharp (as I found out from personal experience!).
We lucked out - we didn't have to buy any of the furniture. I did buy some fabric to recover the cushions on the little rocker (which was mine as a child and had oh-so-70s upholstery!
You can't really see the stripes in the curtains here but the stripes we put on the walls match exactly - whee! (I recommend HIGHLY the Benjamin Moore paint, btw, they had paint chips that were about 6x8" big - so much easier to see the real color!)
Yes, we are still working on potty training (note the little potty) and, yes, I use a baby gate to keep her in her room - after that week where she had to go to the ER on Monday, then ruined my kitchen ceiling by flooding the upstairs bathroom on Friday, can you really blame me?
We also lucked out that Lowe's had the cut-to-size roller blinds in the right color. They claim these are offwhite. Yeah, well, they're pink. BUT, they're exactly the right shade of pink so I'm not complaining!
Just so's you know... when I went to check on her about a 1/2 hour ago? Her carpet is flipped over halfway through the room. The contents of the bins in the bookcase (diapers, socks, undies, etc.) are spread liberally throughout the room. She's pushed the bed up to the high boy to get into the top drawers. There are toys and books everywhere. And the potty is somehow in the middle of the room. I should probably take a picture of that too for her baby book but it depresses me too much!!
In other news, please send prayers and positive thoughts my way on Wednesday afternoon. I have an audition for a section leader position. No, this isn't the PPC but would be paid. I'm planning to sing O Thou That Tellest from the Messiah. Overdone? Yes. Could sing it in my sleep and even if the accompanist screws up? Check. Shows my voice well? Check. Unless my voice coach coaxes me into singing the Pergolesi piece we worked on last November, Handel it is.
Some brief history: when we started, the room had NO trim. Nothing around the windows, nothing around the doors, no mopboard, nothing around the closed. It was also panelled in that lovely paneling that screams 1970s rec room - you know the kind, came in big sheets, was dark with thick weird black lines down it? The paneling was also shot full of holes and, yes, I do mean shot as in BBs - lots and lots of BBs. We filled the holes and painted the paneling. We'd debated ripping it off but the idea of how bad the plaster and lathe behind it might be scared us out of that idea. Also, the radiator covers for the baseboard hotwater heat were all missing so we had to put those in too since the fin that covers the pipes is sharp (as I found out from personal experience!).
We lucked out - we didn't have to buy any of the furniture. I did buy some fabric to recover the cushions on the little rocker (which was mine as a child and had oh-so-70s upholstery!
You can't really see the stripes in the curtains here but the stripes we put on the walls match exactly - whee! (I recommend HIGHLY the Benjamin Moore paint, btw, they had paint chips that were about 6x8" big - so much easier to see the real color!)
Yes, we are still working on potty training (note the little potty) and, yes, I use a baby gate to keep her in her room - after that week where she had to go to the ER on Monday, then ruined my kitchen ceiling by flooding the upstairs bathroom on Friday, can you really blame me?
We also lucked out that Lowe's had the cut-to-size roller blinds in the right color. They claim these are offwhite. Yeah, well, they're pink. BUT, they're exactly the right shade of pink so I'm not complaining!
Just so's you know... when I went to check on her about a 1/2 hour ago? Her carpet is flipped over halfway through the room. The contents of the bins in the bookcase (diapers, socks, undies, etc.) are spread liberally throughout the room. She's pushed the bed up to the high boy to get into the top drawers. There are toys and books everywhere. And the potty is somehow in the middle of the room. I should probably take a picture of that too for her baby book but it depresses me too much!!
In other news, please send prayers and positive thoughts my way on Wednesday afternoon. I have an audition for a section leader position. No, this isn't the PPC but would be paid. I'm planning to sing O Thou That Tellest from the Messiah. Overdone? Yes. Could sing it in my sleep and even if the accompanist screws up? Check. Shows my voice well? Check. Unless my voice coach coaxes me into singing the Pergolesi piece we worked on last November, Handel it is.
Jul 11, 2008
If you need me...
Well, so far today, my daughter has
So, if you need me? I'll be on a greyhound to St. Louis under an alias.
- peed her pants,
- flooded the upstairs bathroom so thoroughly that my kitchen ceiling has a wet spot 5' long and 18" wide, and
- dumped half a canister of formula on the upstairs bathroom floor (after I cleaned up all the water.
- my parents got on my case about my discipline of said child (I confined her to her room) and
- my husband criticized how little I've gotten done today (mind you, I've made a tortellini salad, fed Evie *and* Katie twice, run a load of wash, and vacuumed all the floors downstairs).
So, if you need me? I'll be on a greyhound to St. Louis under an alias.
Jun 9, 2008
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