Short and Sweet

I feel like this weather is cooking my brain. I felt very blah today. It didn't help that I feel like I spend every day cleaning up the same 2-3 messes. It's discouraging.

I did work out today. I also got an amazing massage. It is a rare treat, but I'm hoping to make it a more regular occurrence.

I've had a low-level headache for most of the week, most likely because of the weather.

I feel like I accomplished a lot this week, though. I managed to (finally) drop off some stuff for Goodwill, a bag of plastic bags, food at the food pantry, I straightened up even more after the big switcharoo last weekend.

I am spending my Friday night the way I most love, watching reruns of Modern Family. I watched Brooklyn fall asleep on the couch. The kids played in the pool until like 7:30. Doug ate four hot dogs for dinner. (I'm not sure I'll be able to afford to feed him soon--be on the lookout for a commercial where, for 50 cents a day, you can provide a nutritious meal for him.)

I'm not much for being out late, so I'm really quite happy to be on my couch, in comfy clothes, on a Friday night.

I'm not sure, though, why people persist in setting off fireworks. Enough already.

Soupy, Droopy Weather

I slept in today until 8 AM, which was actually quite glorious. It helped that it was raining quite heavily and therefore, the sun was not blaring through my window. I also took a very short nap around noon. I remember that I napped (had to nap) every single day, at least two hours a day. Now, it's rare for me to nap at all. If I do nap, I try to keep it under and hour. (The exception is when I give blood--that earns me a longer nap.)

Today was a much different day than yesterday. I over scheduled my morning. A generous friend was able to pick Jeremy up from band class and bring him home. (This is even more special to me because Jeremy plays the tuba, which he has to haul back and forth from the school.)

I had a walk today with a new client. It went well. I was glad to get a walk in before the extreme heat settles in tomorrow. I have two 1-hour walks scheduled for Saturday with a regular client, a giant schnauzer named Tony. I am already preparing myself for those to be cancelled. I tried to walk him a couple of weeks ago on a Saturday morning. The sun was blazing and the humidity was quite high.

This has been a quiet week for walking dogs, which has not bothered me that much. It has been too beastly hot (as my maternal grandmother used to say). It's not worth putting my health (or the dogs' health) in jeopardy.

Today, the kids were in the pool while I was prepping for dinner. This made for a much smoother meal prep. I managed *not* to burn the hamburgers, thanks to Brian manning the grill. I even managed to make homemade bread and hamburger buns.

I met with a friend this morning and had a really good chat. The older I get, the more I cherish the opportunity to have 1-on-1 chats versus being in a crowded room of people. It was nice to get to know her a little better. I shared with her about Doug's mishap on Monday and the crazy trip to the museum yesterday.

Blogging is, for me, a way to debrief my day. It's tough sometimes to unravel all the things that happen during the day. It gives me a chance to watch the tapes, so to speak, and see where I fell short, where I excelled, and what things need to just be left behind.

Right now, I am listening to Bekah read me a book about Misty Copeland. I love hearing my fierce little dancer critique things. There is a picture of Misty dancing en pointe. Bekah mused that Misty could be doing a grande battement, but then the skirt isn't in the right spot. According to Bekah, the skirt wouldn't be away from Misty's leg. Additionally, Bekah asserts that the shoes depicted are not actually point shoes but rather ballet shoes.

These kinds of observations are what amaze me about Bekah. I enjoy that she notices things like that. She has a very sharp eye for things and, like her dad, has very good judgement. She calls things like she sees them, which can be tough to do sometimes. Also, the fact that she notices things like this means that she is growing as a reader.

My dad used to read out loud to my brother and me well into high school. It's not always possible to do this with four kids, so I relish the opportunity whenever it arises. (It helps that Brooklyn fell asleep a while ago. Having her chattering around me is like being pecked to death by a chicken.)

Tomorrow should be an interesting day. I have no walks scheduled. My parents are heading out of town, so I'll be watching their dogs for a day or so. I'm hoping to finish shawl number two and progress further with shawl number three. I'll be sure to post pics as I finish. Hopefully, the warm weather this weekend will mean I have more time to sit and crochet. We shall see.

A Hard Day's Night

I missed two days. Monday went sideways in the evening. Doug, my younger son, stepped on a roofing nail. It missed his heel bone by centimeters. It threw us into all sorts of upheaval.

Tuesday was Tuesday, but more so because my parents weren't available to help me and Brian was working. I got home at 8, exhausted and hungry. I didn't start eating dinner until close to 9.

We went to the Discovery Museum in Rockford today. My kids love it there.

Prepping for the trip is akin to preparing for a military operation.

I have to pack lunch and snacks for four kids. I have to remember what each child does and doesn't like. Do we have bread to make sandwiches? Nope, it's moldy, so I have to improvise. That equalled peanut butter sandwiches out of hamburger buns.

Cut up some questionable red bell pepper, had to be okay with Bekah tossing it out.

Remember to bring the boys' doses of Ritalin.

Pack enough water for everyone for the ride home.

Repack the diaper bag (thanks, Bekah, for helping me with that, and also for cleaning out the van).

Make sure everyone has used the potty.

Make sure I have a charging cord for my phone.

Make sure I have the transponder for IPass. (I didn't.)

We arrive at the museum.

Two people want to eat. The rest, overwhelmed by the input, find my mom, dad, brother, sister-in-law and nephew.

I am already exhausted and we have just arrived.

Over the next 2.5-3 hours, I attempt to corral the children, thankfully with the help of the other adults. I do my best to sit still and eat some lunch myself, but I am always thinking about the kids.

Are they okay? Does someone have eyes on Doug? Is Brookie okay, does she need to go potty (this is our first major trip away from home post-potty training)? Have the boys taken their noon doses of Ritalin?

I played Wizards Unite, but I was always concerned about something.

Then, it's time to go home.

Do we have all the lunchboxes? Has everyone pottied? I went to get the van and pulled up to the entrance to get the kids.

Who wants a water? Who wants an apple? Do the people who didn't eat their lunch want their lunch? Are we sure no one needs to potty?

Start driving, tentatively, to make sure I'm going the right way. Realize, because Brookie points it out, that I forgot to buckle her in her carseat. Pull over, put on my hazards, hope there isn't a cop nearby. Jump out, buckle her in.

Make it to Culver's but miss the turn, so I have to sit at two stoplights. Get everyone a milkshake (it's a tradition). Almost get to the expressway and hear from Brookie, "mommy, I have to go potty."

Silently curse, then try to figure out where I can stop to take her to the bathroom. Spot a gas station, but miss the turn. Same drill, two extra stoplights.

Lock everyone in the van, take Brookie potty. It takes a lot longer than I thought it would.

Get back on the road. Pull onto the expressway, hear her say again, "mommy, I have to go potty."

I figured it was a false alarm, so I ignored it. Next thing I know, she's sleeping.

We drove through a brief but powerful rainstorm. It was cute to hear my daughter's friend relay a bad travel experience she had last year.

Get home. Brooklyn is sleeping. Have to roust her to take her to Walmart. Realize she did, in fact, have to go to the bathroom. Dig around to find clean underwear and shorts.

Go to Walmart, where she insists she can't walk (her legs are broken). She immediately needs to go to the bathroom. Again.

Basically, have a trip to Walmart that is anything but quick.

Get home, realize it's already past dinnertime.

The night devolved from there.

I haven't quite figured out our grill. I made it too hot and put too many of the steaks on it. This succeeded in charring the steak, but leaving it basically raw. I did my best to make adjustments, but I was worried for a minute that I was going to start my house on fire.

It ends up taking me an hour of fiddling to cook the steaks enough to serve them to my kids.

In the interim, Jeremy and Bekah have kept up a steady stream of sniping at each other. It is exhausting. I am a constant mediator between them. She did something he didn't like and vice versa. They know how best to needle each other and have gotten very good at doing so.

I lost my temper with them. I lost my temper with Doug. I tried, in a very exasperated way, to explain to them how tired I am and how much I just want to sit on the couch and relax.

I felt too defeated to write, but I didn't want to skip three days in a row.

I recently read something on Facebook about how vacationing with kids is really just taking care of your kids in a different location.

I know my kids had fun today, the Discovery Museum is one of their favorite places to be. I hope that, when they get older, they will forget that I burned dinner (again, it's an alarming trend lately), that I yelled at them, that I wasn't the best version of myself.

(Brooklyn is still awake. I am not sure I'll make it until Brian gets home.)

The Old Switcharoo

Bekah and Jeremy, my two older kids, are 16 months apart in age. The phrase we have used is "Irish twins." Oddly enough, I had more people than I could count ask if they were *actually* twins.

Jeremy stayed in his crib until he was almost three. He had no earthly desire to climb out. We used to joke because at bedtime, he would ask us to put all of his toys in his crib with him. We would oblige and say goodnight. Minutes later, we would start to hear small thuds as he tossed the items back out, one by one.

Bekah, on the other hand, was a ninja. She started crawling out of her crib very early. She was the reason we had to put child locks on our cabinets. We didn't have baby gates up until Bekah. She was a one-woman wrecking ball.

When we found out we were expecting Doug, we figured it would be easiest to combine Bekah and Jeremy into one room. That was back in 2007.

We always knew there would be a point that the arrangement would stop working. We kept putting off switching things around. Something would come up, or we wouldn't have the energy, or we would all get sick.

It all came to a head this past week. Brooklyn got potty trained and that was the last piece of the puzzle. We didn't want to put her in a big-girl bed (a twin-sized bed) until we knew she was potty-trained. We jumped that last hurdle. A couple of generous friends donated two twin mattresses and we were in business.

We started moving smaller things on Friday night. Yesterday, Brian worked in the evening. I wanted to keep the momentum going, so I buckled down and took on a big task, moving the boys' bunk beds. That was a huge undertaking. As it turns out, the only way to move them is to deconstruct them and then reconstruct them.

Today, Bekah and I served in childcare at church for the first time. Once we got home, we resumed the project.

By the end (we still have some minor projects to complete, but the vast majority is complete), we had 5-6 kitchen-sized garbage bags full, 4-5 garbage bags full for donation, we gave away the crib, the toddler bed and the crib mattress. I vacuumed every one of the rooms. I must've gathered up at least five pounds of dust and dog hair. It was crazy.

I was a little sad to say goodbye to the crib, but honestly, it was time. I didn't feel like we went beyond the expiration date. I was honestly sadder about Jeremy and Bekah not rooming together anymore. It feels like the end of an era.

I am excited for this next chapter. I am also excited to get some rest.

Insomnia Won't Win

It's been a long five months of waiting. I don't do patience very well. I tend to go a bit batty.

Today, I dealt with insomnia. I was up from 2-5 AM for no real stated purpose. I did managed to throw a load of laundry in the dryer and start a load of dishes.

Aside from that, I've had a nagging headache.

But today, I embraced action.

We are working to switch the kids' rooms around. It's time for the kids to be separated on the basis of gender.

Bekah has been lobbying for the change for quite some time. We have had to wait for Brooklyn to potty train, which I mentioned she finally has.

We started in earnest yesterday, cleaning up and dismantling the crib. It's really the end of an era, to not have someone in a crib.

Even though I didn't get very much sleep, I pushed through today. I wanted to get things done. After five months of being in a permanent limbo, there is something empowering about having and executing a plan of action.

I vacuumed corners of rooms today that I've not cleaned in months and/or years.

Tomorrow, I will set the kids on their room to clean up all the flotsam and jetsam that's accumulated over the past several years.

But forgive me, I'm exhausted and need to get some rest. I will share more tomorrow.

Fri-yay

My time to write this evening is incredibly limited. Brooklyn is tired. If she was child number one, I would tell her to go up and lie in her bed.

She is not child number one. She is child number four.

Truthfully, we had hoped that she'd basically be raising herself at this point. We claim no credit in the fact that she is able to hold her pencil the correct way. She knows some letters. That also has nothing to do with us.

Happily, she is potty-trained. That, I will say, is on us. We had to be a bit firm, but she caught onto it quite quickly.

In any case, she is number four. That means we have lost the ability and energy to be as firm with her as we were with Jeremy. She has developed the bad habit of falling asleep next to either Brian or me. We are in the process of switching around the rooms so that she shares a room with Bekah. It's going to be a lot easier to tell her to go get in her bed. Up to now, she's been in a crib.

She crawled in and out of her crib at will, but the funniest thing was that she would wake up in the morning and cry for someone to get her. She is the consummate youngest child.

So right now, she is sitting on the couch. She wants me to sit next to her. I know the deal, I know she's exhausted. Right now, her crib mattress is on the floor of the kids' room (which will soon be her and Bekah's room). I'm almost positive she will end up sleeping with us tonight.

I am tired myself, having been up since 6 AM this morning. I had a productive day. Worked out with Kate. Learned that I really don't like goblet squats. I used a 20-pound weighted ball. It was bearable, but they went by much more slowly than I thought they would. I'm grateful I wasn't hobbling out of there.

I went on two Wag! walks today, which is good. This week has been much slower than last. I haven't wanted to go out of my way to take a walk, but I had hoped to get a few more.

As I write this, I'm fairly convinced that Brooklyn is asleep. She hasn't been calling out for me since I started writing.

I love my kids and I love my life with them. It's busy and my hands are full, but my heart is even fuller.

Thankful Thursday

Mercy. 

It is almost 10 PM. 

It was a quiet day today. I felt oddly unsettled all day. It was like I was carrying around my umbrella, expecting it to rain. 

And then it didn’t. 

But I still felt like I needed to carry the umbrella. 

Maybe not the best analogy, but I’m pretty exhausted. 

Grateful for so much. Bekah is sleeping comfortably on her new (to her) mattress. I consider that a win. 

I don’t like all the “hurry up and wait” we’re experiencing during this season, but even in the midst of it, I know God is providing for us abundantly. 

If you’re so inclined, please send up a prayer for our little family. We’d surely appreciate it. 

Love and peace. 

Hump Day, Schlump Day

I just got done watching Bohemian Rhapsody with Brian. I am up way past my bedtime. I made a special dispensation about bedtime so that we could watch it together. He threatened to watch it without me. I had wanted to see it, it's just so tough to jockey for TV time in our house.

We also have plans to watch Stranger Things. The new season just hit Netflix. I used to be all about binging shows after the kids went to bed. Now, the kids usually end up asleep either just before me or just after me. I have no energy to be up late to watch TV.

I spent the day at the lake today with a friend. It was a blast, aside from getting some sunburn. I should know better by now, I know. I am outside walking dogs all the time, but I always have a short-sleeved t-shirt on. Today, at Brookie's insistence, I got my bathing suit on and waded into the lake. The sun was brutal and I got burnt in the spots on my upper body that aren't already tan. 

Aside from that, like I said, I had a really good time. This is a good friend of mine, someone who is a faithful reader of my blog (which, you have to understand, is rare). Our kids are similar in age and get along really well (aside from an incident last summer where are two youngest fought incessantly over a ball). 

It was good to get out of the house, even better to be in the sun and passing time with a good friend. Brian's work schedule at Walmart is very wonky. Some weeks, he's home four nights in a row. Others, only one or two. My bedtime doesn't change much. This is something I've learned as I've gotten older--I need to have a consistent bedtime. It doesn't have to be rigidly so, but I need to get enough rest. So when he is *not* working, I try to go to bed even earlier to buffer for those nights when I stay up later to deal with the kids.

I also feel sometimes like I'm a permanent Debby Downer. I hate showing up to things and when people ask how I'm doing, I want to say okay but my face fights me. So I tend to avoid and cancel last-minute, which I also hate and am also worried that people are judging me for. Again, I'm continuing to learn that what people think of me is none of my business. It's a tough lesson, but it's an important one to try and master.

In any case, we had fun at the beach. We were generously gifted a twin-sized mattress, so we went and picked that up. I finally evicted the items that had been traveling with me for the last few weeks. They are now living happily at the Savers in town. I didn't make it to the food pantry to donate a few things, but there's always tomorrow for that.

We hit Costco and Aldi and headed back home. Dinner was easy-rotisserie chicken from Costco. I went for a walk, played a little Wizards Unite, then back home to eat dinner and watch the movie.

I continue to be grateful for the friends I have who are walking this path alongside me. I love their senses of humor and the way they show their support. I know that God put these people in my life specifically to help me make it through. 

Busy day again tomorrow, but beyond grateful to have four beautiful kiddos who I'm able to shuttle around to their different activities. 

The One About How Tired I Am

I just heard the oven timer beep, signifying dinner being ready. Tuesday nights are always killer. It's been a long day, lots of schlepping kids from one place to another. Heavy emphasis on transportation to and from the dance studio.

I worked out with Kate today. Hours later, I went to scratch my head and my arm protested. It was an incredibly difficult routine, from the mountain climbers to the TRX planks, BOSU burpees and wall sit with bicep curls.

I checked all the boxes for things I wanted to do today. I didn't have a chance to return a phone call. The Toyota doesn't have BlueTooth and I don't need a ticket for using my phone while driving. That can wait for tomorrow.

I've sent a list of interview questions to one of the three women I'll be interviewing. I'm almost done with the second set of questions, but literally, sitting here and typing is making my arms hurt.

I am hoping to have the second set off tomorrow.

Found a twin-sized mattress for Bekah, so that's good. Didn't eat any food until about 6:45 PM--I need to work on that tomorrow.

Now I'm off to eat dinner, take some ibuprofen and read until I can't keep my eyes open anymore.

Into Every Life, A Little Rain Must Fall

I am exhausted tonight. I did a cardio kickboxing class with my friend Kate. I love it. The time passes quickly and I get tired afterward, but a good tired, like I've accomplished something.

Brian doesn't work a lot of evenings this week. This helps my mood a lot. It's one thing for him to be gone eight hours during the day. It's another for him to be gone during the end of the day.

I am also tired because I cried today.

Let me preface that by saying, I have always been overly concerned with what other people think of me. I could fill reams of paper talking about just that very subject. Suffice to say, I worry especially that people will think I'm whiny or complaining or both.

I've been told, multiple times, by multiple people, that what other people think about me is none of my business. It's a valid point, but one that I've failed to internalize.

I've tried very hard to keep a positive outlook on all the things. Job, weight, kids, house, etc. All the things. I have kept my whining and complaining to a minimum. I have two or three friends who get to hear it. To the public, to the people who are FB friends, I've kept a stiff upper lip.

Here's the thing. It occurred to me today that I can be two things at once. I can hold two thoughts in my head at once. I can be incredibly grateful for the outpouring of love and support we've received over the past five months. I can also be sad because of the season we are in right now.

Brian spent a long time being underemployed prior to being unemployed. Being underemployed is tough. It means an utter lack of financial margins. We have no credit cards and while that ultimately is good, it also requires a lot more strategic thinking. Brain power can be in short supply when one's time is spent constantly trying to strategize.

For example.

I go to Costco every two weeks. I mostly know how much I spend there. I am not swayed by the economy packs of Sharpie markers because it's not on my route through the store. I like to eye crazy things, like a gazebo that has speakers, but it's nothing more than eyeing because it's so ridiculously out of our reach.

There are things that we buy like clockwork--bags of salad mix, hot dogs, waffles. Then there are things like Cascade, paper towels, toilet paper, garbage bags. I probably buy those things every few months. I try, as much as possible, to spread out those purchases. Yes, it's cheaper to buy those things at Costco, but the cash outlay for buying them cuts into the other purchases I have to make. So sometimes, I'll buy toilet paper but will grab two rolls of paper towels on a trip through Walmart. Or vice versa.

Again, it seems like a small problem and it is, but it compounds quickly. Every trip I make to the store, whichever store, I am always running the numbers. I am always having to consider how my purchases will impact future produce runs to Aldi or wherever. I have visited the food pantry in the past, but my kids have very specific tastes. There are only three or four vegetables that my kids eat--green pepper, cucumber, baby carrots and red/yellow/orange pepper. Trying to vary from those veggies will mean that I have rotten veggies in my refrigerator.

I'm always, always, calculating the cost of things in my head. If I make a misstep, I beat myself up for it for days.

For example.

Jeremy recently complained about not having any shorts. We went to Walmart, where Brian has a discount. I made the mistake of listening to Jeremy tell me what size he was, versus having him try the shorts on. I spent a total of $20 on his shorts.

None of them fit. Even after buying a belt with my dad, they don't fit.

It's $20, no big deal. Except, $20 has almost always been a big deal for us. It's not the end of the world, but it's frustrating and I end up feeling defeated.

I shared this experience with someone today. They told me Savers has clothes half-price on Mondays. I went after meeting with friends and spent $5 on three pairs of shorts for Jeremy. Score!! (Don't worry, I'll still beat myself up about the squandered $20 on shorts, but at least now I won't have Jeremy walking around, belt tightened as far as it goes, shorts bunched up all around his waist, as evidence of my failure.)

It's just a tough thing. There are so many things I want to do for the kids, things they could benefit from, and I just have to say no. I have had to say no a lot. I don't think saying no to my kids is a bad thing, but there's something about saying no because you *have* to versus saying no because it's the better option. (If that makes sense.)

A lot of being underemployed, or living paycheck to paycheck, is about a lack of choices. Yes, I have food in my fridge or clothes on my back. I am grateful. But it's also a little sad that I don't always get to choose the food or clothes. I graciously accept both and thank my lucky stars, but it's also disappointing sometimes not to have more autonomy.

I will admit, I'm not praying as much as I should. I've started to feel like God has to be annoyed with me for praying the same thing over and over again, kind of like I feel when Doug asks me the same question over and over again (even after I've answered it). I have done my best to get out of myself, to focus on helping other people. I try to remind myself that it could always be worse.

I am glad that the shorts I bought at Savers seem to fit better than the ones I bought at Target. It is hard to dress Jeremy sometimes. He is long and thin, like a string bean, but with broad shoulders. I always hoped he would join the swim team. I guess there's still time for that particular dream to come true.

Two Choices, Though Not Both Alike in Dignity

This is much earlier in the day than I normally write. It was a hectic day today. We had church first thing, then a birthday celebration for our resident dinosaur expert. Simultaneously, Bekah was in our town's Independence Day parade.

The parade steps off at 1 PM. The birthday celebration started at 12:30 PM. I had to make a choice about which to attend. I had to drop Bekah off at 12:30, then go station myself at the end of the parade route so that I could pick her up. Our town doesn't normally see that much traffic, so it can get pretty clogged. I have a tried-and-true parking spot, near the end of the parade route but also out-of-the-way. I do everything I can to avoid the festival parking.

I could have left her, stopped by the celebration and then left, but the timing would have been tricky. I would have had to get across town in a relatively short amount of time. I didn't want to risk Bekah getting anxious because I wasn't there immediately at the end of the parade.

Truth be told, I was a teensy bit okay with missing the celebration.

Let me explain.

Our go-to celebration spot is Chuck E. Cheese. We have a wide range of ages to accommodate. Brooklyn, my youngest, is 3-years-old. My nephew, Scott, is 2-years-old. On the other end, Jeremy will be 12 this September. It's tough to find a spot that can appeal to all ages.

Doug had recently traveled to Main Event with Jeremy as part of a NISRA outing. In the past couple of weeks, he made an appeal to my dad to move the celebration. I voted him down. My understanding is that Main Event is geared toward kids that are a little bit older. Brooklyn and Scott would not have had much to do.

I remember Chuck E. Cheese fondly from my youth. There are pictures (actual, printed photos) of me having my birthday party there one year. (I also remember Showbiz Pizza, just so you get a sense of how old I am.)

Because we visit Chuck E. Cheese for everyone's birthday, over the past two or so years, we've been there like eight times. That is, quite frankly, seven times too many.

It is my firm belief that Chuck E. Cheese is the training ground for Vegas. Upon entering, every single one of your senses is immediately assaulted. All the games have noises, and lights. Some vibrate. Most give tickets.

It has occurred to me, as I'm sure it has occurred to every parent who has ever surveyed the prize wall at Chuck E. Cheese, that a trip to the dollar store would be cheaper and quicker. There are non-crappy prizes toward the ceiling, illuminated by lights. I'm surprised that they don't have a track of angels singing on the quarter hour, just to highlight their magnificence.

Let's be frank. If I saved every voucher we ever printed from every time we ever visited for five years, we may have enough tickets to get one of those prizes.

Earning tickets is a fool's errand. There are some games where a modicum of skill is involved, like shooting hoops, playing skee ball or jumping over a lighted circle. The rest *seem* simple and easy to win, but of course are weighted toward the house (or toward the mouse, wink wink).

One of the games is Plinko, of course from the Price is Right. I kid you not, I have spent at least 15 minutes there, feeding tokens in, convinced that I'm just one token away from winning the jackpot.

Even there, the word jackpot would normally evoke elation, but I assure you, it doesn't and it shouldn't. Even if I won 100 tickets, I'd still be relegated to the lowest tier of prize possibilities.

So you enter, and are immediately assaulted on all fronts. After about half an hour, my brain shuts down. I can't carry on a conversation because in addition to the assault on my senses, my kids are running back and forth, dropping off their beloved tickets at the table.

Meanwhile, Brian and I usually tag team Brooklyn duty. She is too little to be left to her own devices. She is also too little to operate any of the games very well. But she's at the age where she *thinks* that she is old enough to do everything on her own. Anyone who offers to help her will be rebuffed. She is a pretty typical 3-year-old, who feels like she is a big girl and can therefore do all the things big girls should be able to do.

Let me assure you, she can't. Brian told me that today's visit was especially exhausting. She kept wanting to play games that were *just* out of her skill set. She wanted to play them as they were intended, but that required a gentle nudge, which she firmly rejected every time Brian tried to offer. So mostly, he followed her around and tried to reason with a 3-year-old. This is also a fool's errand.

Now, the absolute worst part of the entire trip is trying to be judicious in picking out prizes. I will admit, I have held onto several trips' worth of vouchers just to avoid having to haggle over who gets what prize. With four kids, the name of the game is always fairness. I have to try to get everyone the same (or closely similar items). Which means, after being assaulted and having my brain shut down, I have to sit and calculate how many tickets we have and how those tickets can be divided by four. Then, I have to look at the crappy prizes (which, as you recall, are almost all cheaper at the dollar store) and decide how I can get four sets of crappy prizes that are similar enough.

I'm tired just recounting the whole procedure.

Normally, by the end of the visit, I just want to get out of there. I want to breathe fresh air, listen to the birds chirp and close my eyes. It seriously becomes like a military exercise, trying to get the six of us, all of our presents (remember, we are celebrating someone's birthday), the leftover pizza, cupcakes, etc., out of the restaurant and into the van.

It makes me incredibly grateful that we only visit there four times a year (Scotty and Brooklyn's birthdays are close in proximity, so we combine their celebrations for now). Sometimes, the kids will come across the play cards (little credit cards that they swipe at every machine) and say, "mom, maybe we could go to Chuck E. Cheese!"

I typically use one of their well-worn strategies and pretend I don't hear them. It doesn't always work, so I go to the next tier of dismissal--"we'll see." (As Jeremy pointed out to Doug one time, "the good news is, mommy didn't say no. The bad news is she didn't say yes, either.") That phrase is the universal sign of "please lose interest in that idea so we don't have to do it, ever."

All of that being said, I know that the kids enjoy it. I am glad that my parents are generous enough to be able to provide the experience. I'm also glad that my kids still want to participate in things like that, with their parents around. I know the time is fast-approaching where they will ask to be dropped off at the roller rink. (I also am kind of looking forward to that, but I'm trying to not wish my time away.)

Also, you can see why I chose to stand in the blazing hot sun.

I'll Get Straight to the Point

I have spent all day mulling about what I should write. I wish I could say I arrived at an epiphany, but I haven't.

I have a lot of things swirling around in my head. A lot of them aren't remotely positive or uplifting. I have long subscribed to the idea that restraint of tongue and pen is a surefire way to keep one's nose out of trouble.

I will continue mulling. Hopefully, by tomorrow, the storm clouds in my head will have passed. I am hoping to have something far more constructive to say by this time tomorrow night.

A Movie Review and Fangirling for the Beatles

I made it to bedtime last night. I had a funny encounter with, who else, Doug. I was set up in bed with a book and a mindless movie on. He tried to bargain for having a sleepover in our room. I told him it wasn't a good idea because he had school today.

He walked out of the room, whining a bit (kind of a fake crying). Then he walked back in, pleading his case some more. I sent him away again. He came back and announced to me that I was, and I quote, "breaking his 7-year-old heart. You should be ashamed of yourself."

I couldn't even disguise the laughter as I texted Brian what he said. Sometimes I am able to keep a straight face, but last night I couldn't even muster it.

I swear the man has a cadre of writers working tirelessly somewhere. I don't know where he comes up with these things.

Today I had a rare treat. I got to see a movie with my dad. It's very seldom that he and I get to do things on our own. I usually have at least one child with me, or I'm needed somewhere, or I have to drop a kid off somewhere. I love my dad, as I have stated on numerous occasions. He and I have a number of common interests. (As it happens, we also have an uncanny knack to lose our keys. I currently have no idea where mine are. I even resorted to straightening the kitchen counters. No luck.)

There is a movie out right now called Yesterday. It's a British film. The premise is that the main character, a struggling musician, is struck by a bus during a freak global blackout. When he comes to, he realizes that there has been a selective deletion of things. For example, there is no more Coca Cola. He asks his mom for a Coca Cola and she doesn't know what he is talking about. (He uses Google to search for things, this is how he finds out that they have never existed.)

At a small gathering of his friends after his accident, his friend (and eventual love interest) Ellie (played by the radiant Lily James) gives him a guitar to replace the one destroyed in his accident. They ask him to play a song. He chooses to play the song Yesterday, by the Beatles.

When he is done, they are blown away. They compliment him on his songwriting prowess. He believes them to be giving him a hard time. He gives credit to the Beatles. His friends look at him with blank faces. "Like the bugs?" his one friend asks.

Upon arriving home, he googles the Beatles only to find not one single reference to the band. The only reference he can find is to the bug.

It seems like a silly premise, but I loved every minute.

I started listening to the Beatles when I was about 11 or 12, on the insistence of my dad. He gave me an education, starting with With the Beatles and all the way through The White Album.

I saw Paul McCartney in concert once, before kids. I remembered seeing the Beatles on Ed Sullivan. When I saw the girls in the audience, it prompted eye rolls. I thought the Beatles were nifty, but I felt like their reaction was over-the-top.

I remember, though, seeing Paul McCartney come out on stage. Hearing him play the songs I had grown up hearing was a feeling I can't quite describe. I understood, finally, a little of what those girls felt. I was ebullient hearing him sing. I had played Blackbird so many times on rough days. (In fact, when I was in the OR getting prepped for my emergency c-section, I tried to get Brian to play that song for me. He was too flustered to make it happen.)

Hearing Paul McCartney sing it, live, was an amazing experience (even from the nosebleed section).

The movie today highlighted what an extraordinary catalogue of music the Beatles produced. Jack, the main character, kept remembering different songs, though he sometimes struggled to remember all of the lyrics. Every time he played a new song, the crowds went wild for it.

At my wedding, Brian and I walked out of the chapel to All You Need is Love. We had our wedding party dance to Maybe I'm Amazed (while not the Beatles, still a McCartney tune).

The tremendous thing is the staying power of the Beatles' music. It holds up, even after all these years. There are lots of universal themes in what they wrote. Hey, Jude remains one of my most favorite. At the end of the movie, they played Hey, Jude as the credits rolled. I was sitting next to a total stranger (my dad was sitting in the row ahead of me) and we sang the entire song together. I know all the lyrics.

Brian and I went to see American English perform last year at the performing arts center in downtown Crystal Lake. I was probably about 15-20 years younger than the average age, but I knew all the lyrics to the songs. The range of ages in the audience was diverse.

Toward the end of the movie, two random people show up at one of Jack's concerts. They tell him that they, too, remember the Beatles. The woman presses a piece of paper into Jack's hand and tells him that she did some digging.

There is a cameo in the movie that also caused me to start crying. I won't divulge it, but suffice it to say, the casting and/or makeup was so spot-on it was eery. Even as I described it to Brian when I got home, I got chills.

I drove home from the movie playing Hey, Jude and All You Need is Love. I love listening to Lady Madonna when I'm feeling particularly motherly and also rushed. I Will, a little gem toward the end of the first part of the White Album, never ceases to put a smile on my face. Any time I stay in a hotel, I look for the requisite Bible and start humming Rocky Raccoon.

I am not sure why I got so emotional as I was watching the movie, except we've been over this--I'm an emotional being. Hearing the songs in that setting was emotional.

It's funny because every time a new boy band explodes onto the scene, reporters want to draw parallels to the Beatles and Beatlemania. This happened for New Kids on the Block, Backstreet Boys, and I've seen it happening now for BTS.

I always shake my head when they try to compare anyone to the Beatles. In my mind, anyone else pales in comparison. Now I feel like I need to expose my kids to their music, so someday *they* can shake their head when someone tries to make a comparison.

Seeking Independence

The other night, I didn't know what I was going to write. Tonight, I know what I'm going to write and I don't really want to.

The past couple of days, I've been very busy with dog walks. This is a good thing for which I am really grateful. It's also done a good job of keeping me distracted.

I took a walk last night at a time I normally don't take walks. I explained last night, in a rambling way, that I work very hard to protect my bedtime. I operate better when I get a prescribed number of hours of sleep.

When my sleep suffers, my mood stuffers. I tend to start to droop, like a plant that's not been watered enough. Normally, a good nights' sleep will help me perk back up. I'm hoping that's the case here. I am hoping that I wake up tomorrow morning with more pep in my step.

It's hard to droop at any point, but especially on a holiday. I've purposely kept off FB today. Holidays are different when you are struggling financially or have kids with special needs.

For us, fireworks are problematic. In addition to being loud and having to endure throngs of people, both of which are unpleasant for my boys, they take place outside. My boys have a tremendous phobia about bugs. (I honestly can't blame them and feel like it's not so much a phobia as an understanding about how gross and unpredictable bugs can be.) We are really a resort family, despite much encouraging from people about how wonderful and inexpensive camping can be.

When you are a resort family but there aren't funds available for a resort, you find cheap, local things to do. Hence our frequent visits to the public library, parks and other amenities maintained by the city of Crystal Lake.

We also don't really do overt patriotism. We don't have matching patriotic outfits, we honestly have taken maybe one or two family photos over the past dozen or so years. I avoid FB because holidays seem to mean an uptick in the number of highly-coordinated, posed portraits of familial joy. I won't lie, I am envious of those families.

I also mourn because we just don't have that family. We don't hang with a lot of people as a family. I think part of that is our size--trying to hang out with a family of four kids takes up a lot of space. It can be very loud. Not everyone is willing or able to accommodate us. I totally get it and am not begrudging a lack of invitations.

I'm going to say that again.

I am not whining about not being invited places or not being included. I am, quite frankly, grateful when we are excluded because it stresses me out having to take the boys places. We have two parties coming up with really the only two families with whom we gel well. That is just fine with me.

That doesn't mean that it's easy for me to scroll FB during holidays and not mourn a little that our family isn't like others. I think it's easy when one is droopy to scroll FB and get even droopier.

So I've kept myself busy today, with crocheting and reading and playing Wizards Unite. I had two dog walks. I hit my step goal.

I ate some things that I don't normally eat. Part of it was for comfort, part of it was because between yesterday and today, the heat has been oppressive and I needed the salt.

I hope someday I can celebrate my independence (see what I did there) from these expectations I put on myself about how the holidays *should* look. I know the people that care about me and my family are not judging me. Those that are, they are in luck. We live in a free country, where people are allowed to think as they please.

This year, we are going to try the fireworks. We are able to watch them from a relative distance, which minimizes both the noise and the crowds. It gives us a way to make a fast exit in case things get hairy. I can guarantee that there will be discord and discontent, both about the bugs, the heat, the proximity of one sibling to another, the list stretches on.

I would write more, but Doug has just informed me that Jeremy broke the protective shield (after more investigation, he means the curtains) in my room. I'm positive it's not going to improve my mood, but the silver lining is that bedtime looms near.

Ramble On

It has been a very long day today. I was up at 6:30 and didn’t stop moving until about 5 or 6 PM. 

I started off with one Wag! walk today. By 2, I had walked 5 dogs. I am sitting on a patio with today’s final client, Floyd the French Bulldog. I have been advised to keep my petting interactions short, as he can be a bit unpredictable around new people. 

I made an appointment with a friend for coffee. We both joked that we considered cancelling, which is really the mark of true friendship—neither of us really wanted to be in regular clothes out in public, but we made an exception for each other. 

More and more, 7:30 PM is late for me. I used to stay up pretty regularly until 1 or 2 AM. That was the norm more than it was an exception. I struggled with sleep apnea for years (unbeknownst to me). It meant I never really got restorative sleep. I would fall asleep just sitting on the couch. I would fall asleep driving. I’m not exaggerating, when I was pregnant with Brooklyn, I had to go to Park Ridge for a Level II ultrasound. Brian had to take me. I was not confident to make the 45-minute drive without nodding off behind the wheel. It was actually very scary to drive any more than 20 minutes away—I literally could not keep my eyes open. 

It’s been two years since I was fitted with a bipap machine. The structure of my throat, according to my pulmonologist, is not great. It’s likely I’ve had sleep apnea for years and just didn’t realize it. 

I was musing the other day about how different my life would’ve been had I received a diagnosis decades ago. I struggled in high school, as most kids do, to get up in the morning. Part of me wonders if that really was out of my control, if I was asking my body to do something it just wasn’t capable of doing. 

I feel like I missed a lot of life because I napped so much. It may or may not have contributed to my depression. It may or may not have contributed to my weight gain. 

In any case, the life I lead now means I am in bed by about 10 (if not sooner) and asleep before 11. I make plans based on how soon I can be in my pajamas, sitting on my couch. I used to close down parties. Now I’m typically one of the first to leave. 

My kids are early risers, with the exception of Doug (to no one’s surprise). By the grace of God, they are old enough now to fend for themselves in the mornings. When I get downstairs, the older two have already made themselves breakfast (usually waffles in the toaster). 

I don’t exactly know where I’m going with this, I’ll be honest. I was sweaty for about 80% of the day. Not a glistening sweat on the forehead, either. A full-on, sweat dripping down my back. The humidity here has been through the roof the past few days. The dogs I’ve been walking haven’t been too keen on staying out in it, either. It’s the same problem I had when it got crazy cold in the winter. 

I didn’t drink enough water because then I have to go to the bathroom. In most cases, I will use the restroom at the dog’s house. There’s always the chance, though, that the owner is home. Then I have to gauge how badly I need to go. I was so self-conscious today about how I looked and smelled. I didn’t feel okay going into someone’s house smelling worse than their dog. 

I also didn’t eat very well today. 11-2 is prime time for dog walking. At 1:45, I wolfed down two hard boiled eggs and drank some cold water. I ate dinner at 6:30. I am more tired than hungry right now. Tomorrow, I have no walks scheduled. That may change, but my hope is that I can eat lunch at a normal time of day. When I don’t eat, I get really squirrelly. And irritable. 

Again, I feel like all I’ve done is rambled today. I’m going to chalk it up to prolonged heat exposure. I am looking forward to getting a little more sleep and rest tomorrow. 

Terrific Tuesday

I really don't want to write tonight.

There has been a cluster of storms passing through over the last couple of days. It has wreaked havoc on my head.

I woke up early this morning. On purpose. I'm not one to do that normally. I was hoping to get a walk done before the day started.

I didn't have any dog walks lined up when I woke up. By the time the day was over, I had walked four dogs (two at one time, then two other dogs on their own). I had a job lined up for this week, but it fell through.

I hadn't already committed the earnings anywhere. I've learned the hard way, over the years, that I can make plans but I can't plan the outcome. I knew in my heart that the job for later this week was tentative at best.

When it fell through, my natural inclination was to feel discouraged. Luckily, instead of doing that, I started praying. I prayed that God would fill up my schedule for the week. It's been kind of slow in the Wag! app for the past couple of weeks. In addition, any jobs that have come through seem to be snatched quickly.

With that in mind, I tried to keep an eye on the app but not be obsessive. It paid off. I booked some jobs for September for a recurring client. I also lined up a dog sitting for this weekend and some walks over the next couple of days.

I love to walk dogs and am fortunate to be able to earn money doing it. I'm not out looking to make hundreds of dollars a week. That being said, Brian being unemployed sure can be a kick in the pants to get out there and take more jobs.

I walked 18,000 steps today. I was mildly surprised that the two workouts I did yesterday didn't leave me feeling incapacitated. I was sore (more so when I try standing up than sitting down).

It continues to be muggy beyond comfort here. I am trying to keep up with the daily walks, but it is like walking with a hot, wet towel over my face.

I am beyond grateful for all of the free places to go to cool off in Crystal Lake. We stayed out of the pool today because it was a very busy day, but I'm hoping we'll be able to swim tomorrow and also visit Three Oaks in the evening.

I started another shawl, which I am enjoying. I am on my fourth book in a week. I still need to figure some other things out, but I feel like overall, I am headed in the right direction.

Never Miss a Monday

I want to start by saying that I'm still compiling a list of questions for my upcoming interviews. I'm probably overthinking it, as I am wont to do. I am hoping to have the first interview done by mid-July.

It is 8 PM right now and I am workout dumb. I worked out twice today, once with my trainer and then later I did a cardio kickboxing class. (Or, as Doug likes to call it, my fight. I think he legitimately believes I go to actually fight with people.)

I feel amazing. There is something that activates in me when I workout very intensely. I have done a good job lately of hitting my step goal (to be fair, there is much to be said for people overstating the importance of simply hitting an arbitrary number of steps every day). I have not, however, done a good job of increasing the intensity of my workouts.

In my area, a lot of people do workouts with Beachbody on Demand. I have yet to take the plunge and subscribe to the service. I don't have a dedicated spot to work out (aside from in front of my TV, which involves a fair amount of straightening up). I don't have a lot of equipment, though I've been adding to my arsenal a bit at a time.

I like having someone plan the workout for me. I like having someone cheer me on. I'm not normally one for group classes, but this cardio kickboxing class is small and intimate. The instructor, my friend Kate, is not too over-the-top with her enthusiasm. I've known her for a long time and she's my kind of dark and twisty.

I also managed to finish the first shawl today. It came out really well, I am quite pleased with it. I am itching to get started on the second one and will do so after I post this.

I talked with friends today about getting into action, about doing the things that I know I need to do, even if I don't want to do them. Our brains are magnificent organisms, but they like efficiency. It's good for a number of reasons to try and learn new things. Every time we have to learn a new skill, it's like a workout for our brains. It ends up creating new neural pathways.

It's also why it's so tough for us to break bad habits and implement good ones. Our brains ultimately want to follow the path of least resistance. It's easier to sit on the couch and binge-watch the new hit show on Netflix. It's easier not to get up a little earlier and have more focus. It's easier to eat a second helping than to drink some extra water.

In any case, I'm hoping that upping the intensity in my workouts will help with a bevy of things.

I am continuing to enjoy a joyful spirit. Again, I don't know why. It would appear, to the untrained eye, that things are still in disarray and joy should be fleeting. I'm not going to poke the bear and wonder why; I'm just going to continue to ride the wave.