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July 27 Oh, dearMy boy had his kindergarten shots today.
Oh, dear.
He was so very brave. No tears, no screeching, not even a flinch through all four needle sticks. For Pete's sake (why do we say that?), he almost laughed through them. The very smart nurse brought a pinwheel with her when she came in the room, and gave him very specific instructions--he must keep the wheel spinning the whole time and he wouldn't even notice the pokes (and I'm sitting there going, "Yeah, right, lady." )(She also very quietly told me, "Now, Mom, you need to hold him around his arms and keep your arms firmly over his elbows (like a bear hug) because they automatically raise their arms when we poke them." Smart nurse.) Interestingly, she wasn't kidding. About the pinwheel, I mean. It works!! He seriously blew and blew and blew, and they were done before he knew it. I teared up as they did it! Nothing like holding your kid down when you know they're in for scary pain...no matter how noble the cause.
His kindergarten shots. Today was my "face the facts" day. My baby is growing up.
He's not a baby anymore. Babies are gone from my home. I'm so not ready for this.
Take a pinwheel the next time your five-year-old needs shots. Maybe your pediatrician's office is smart like mine. If not, take a pinwheel. And prepare for your own tears when your baby grows up. It's a killer. July 23 Wanted: Job IdeasSeth brought up something interesting on our trip yesterday...long car rides always seem to do that. Interestingly, the conversation didn't really go anywhere...thus, not actually making it a "conversation," but more of a "thoughtful moment." Anyway, he said, "When you go back to work and I go to school for something in computers..." and that was really it. We both just sat there thoughtfully, neither one of us really saying anything. As he was obviously pondering what it would be like to go to college for something like that and have me work, I got thinking, "What am I going to do for work when I do go to work??" In my mind, I will always, always be a stay-at-home mom. It's just my heart will always dwell. Someday, however, my children won't be at home, and I will work (and we won't think yet about when that will happen yet...my brain just can't handle that right now). So what will I do?
I always imagined I would teach. I figured I would stand in a classroom for the rest of my working life, teaching scores of children to become wonderful, productive members of educated society. Honestly, I don't see myself doing that any more. I don't have any desire whatsoever to enter that realm ever, ever again. It's awful to think that after five years of pretty specialized training to do exactly that, with the student loans to prove it, I have no intentions of actually doing what I was trained to do. The thought of doing it makes my head hurt and my insides churn. I love to teach. I hate the politics and particulars of teaching in a school. I don't enjoy dealing with students who don't care anything about being there (or other teachers who mirror that emotion). My children are a joy when I teach them. They are mine. I have no desire to deal with other peoples' miserable, spoiled, undisciplined, mean, hyperactive, lazy children every single day other than summer vacation. I know, I'm a rotten person. And yes, my children display each of those particular characteristics at different times, but there are three of them, not twenty-seven, and they are mine. I can insist upon consequences, lots and lots of love, appropriate behavior in my home and classroom, respect for others and property, disciplinary structure, and curriculum choices based upon their personalities, their likes and dislikes, their learning styles and their motivations. The thought of someone else telling me what I have to teach, when I willteach it, how that teaching would look, and how my classroom would operate...UGH!! No thank you!! And the meetings...the preparation...the paper grading...the planning...the follow-up...UGH again!!! This is not what I want. Not for the rest of my working life. No thank you.
So, this is where I found myself in the car yesterday: what will I do?? I love the thought of having a cake business that will take off. Having enough cakes to decorate and deliver in a given month that my income would represent that of someone working a "normal job." Making the money I could make working in an office somewhere, maybe as support staff. Ideally, that would be my goal. However, that type of job is hit or miss...if you get calls, wonderful! If you build your reputation, fantastic! If word of mouth and a few ads here and there prove effective, well, there you go!! On the other hand, a slow month means no money to contribute to the budget/vacation plan/Christmas fund. No money to throw at the retirement fund. And we're almost half-way there!! (Retirement!! AAAK!) A few months ago, I got interested in graphic design...played around with a few programs, noticed how wonderfully fulfilled I felt after I finished my projects, thought about the possibilities of taking that and running with it...when I realized I would need to train, and of course, training costs money. And time. Sure, I would enjoy that training (I always threatened to become a professional student...), but reality speaks here too: between the time, the money, and my already-packed schedule, plus the fact that once again, I would need to build a business...well, lots of obstacles. Maybe even more than building my cake business.
I have a meeting tomorrow with one of the assistant pastors at our church to discuss the formalities, the possibilities, and the ultimate plan to add me to Victory's structure as the on-site Wedding Coordinator. I have researched other churchs' policies with their wedding coordinators and directors, checking out their plans, their fee schedules, the coordinators' included responsibilities...do you remember planning your wedding? Did you have a wonderful idea of what you were doing right from the start? Or were you like me and you ran out the day after you got engaged to buy a "wedding planner for dummies" book, knowing that you had no idea what you were really doing and that this was sooooo not something you wanted to screw up?? I mean, I had been planning my wedding since I was six, playing with my best friend's Barbies and their dream house, but I didn't know what I was doing!! I did plan my wedding though, and before and since, have been in so many weddings, have watched so many friends get married, have listened to so many bridal toasts...by this time, I think I could put a wedding together with my eyes shut...especially the ceremony itself!! This is my ultimate dream job!! Becoming Victory's wedding coordinator, even if it's just 6 or 7 weddings a year, is the start of my dream job!! And imagine what could happen if the church had someone willing to organize their weddings? I'm not sure if any other churches in our area even offer that option. In four or five years, when I've got this down pat, could this expand into coordinating the whole shebang for local brides, helping them walk from engagement through their honeymoon with minimal bumps and bruises?
Who knows.
I said I had a headache thinking about walking back into a classroom. Now I have a headache just thinking about having a really organized, responsible job.
Maybe it's the 4 hours or sleep last night. I'll let you know how the meeting goes tomorrow. July 20 Wow I thought last week was insane. HA.
I'm learning there are degrees of insanity. Last week was insanity to the 4th or 5th degree. VBS, sports, Seth's work schedule, babysitting, well, you know. This week was insanity to the 10th or 12th degee. And the thing is, we were home all week other than two trips to Walmart, dinner at my mom's one night, and a trip to the Y. We were home. And the kids were great. Great. Seriously! Between the packed schedule with gymnastics (we even skipped tennis all week), the extra, wonderful 8-year-old all week, babysitting, worship rehearsal, my brothers both coming into town with their families throughout the week (which was also wonderful), the full week of crafts and activities, kids not getting naps and not getting to bed much before 9 all week, a cake today, Seth working 73 hours between Monday morning and 5:00 tonight...well, you get the point.
We told the kids we don't want them even thinking about getting up before 8 tomorrow, and none of them is to wake another one of them up (when there's a friend over whom everyone idolizes, well, it's just so hard not to wake everyone up!!). We have nothing planned tomorrow. I can't wait. I told Seth I want to scrapbook tomorrow. He said, "Go for it," (or something to that effect). And I think I will. And if I run out of pictures, well, I can have more in an hour. What a concept. The downside? My house is a wreck!! I'm not sure I care...I might clean my kitchen. Nothing else. Maybe I'll get some pictures for the kids to crop (thus alleviating my guilt about ignoring them all week while they played contentedly with their friend, and then doing a cake today).
Moms have guilt about the most interesting things. If I told you how much time I spent watching and interacting with them in the pool and on the trampoline, creating/dreaming up crafts for them to do, then helping with the crafts, playing games, monitoring 10-minute computer sessions, helping to figure out the ez bake cake decorator on hasbro.com, ironing perler bead sculptures, uploading pictures to Walmart.com for their last-day-with-Ally project...you would laugh at me!! And still, I have guilt. What is wrong with me??
It's like 10 extra pounds after a baby. Dust. Wet diapers. Dirty dishes. Hungry kids. It's life. The way things work. Guilt in motherhood. It's my reality.
Hmm. I'll bet there's a book about this. Anybody?
July 13 Open mouth......insert both of my size sevens.
Only tonight, they really feel like size thirteens, and boy, the rubber soles of my black old navy flip flops taste like crap.
I got an email from a friend today talking about how she had been confronted with an awkward situation and that she had chosen her words poorly. Now, in this circumstance, she had no idea the words she had chosen were poor ones, but quickly realized the error of her decision when the person responded with a comment which, well, pointed to that conclusion. She felt awful. Thankfully, she made quick decisions about the next words she spoke, and the person wasn't phased by the conversation...though it was awkward for her, he didn't seem to notice. I responded to her email...said that I had put my foot in my mouth on many occasions in the past, often not even realizing until well after the fact that it could have been taken as an insensitive/unkind/stupid/thoughtless thing to say...usually doing so because I hadn't listened carefully enough, or had been paying attention to too many things, or hadn't thought before I spoke...encouraging her with a "we all do it...don't feel bad" kind of empathy...not realizing that just yesterday, I may have done the very thing of which I spoke (and via email, no less), in a situation where my words could have been (and probably were) much more detrimental.
I am an insensitive idiot. This is my overwhelming conclusion.
My heart is breaking at the thought of hurting my friend...when it suddenly struck me that I could have done this, I immediately panicked, trying to get more information from a mutual friend (when no response came from the friend I may have hurt), trying to check her blog, trying to check the blogs of other people who connect with her blog, trying to access her blog from different angles. Before I did these things, I emailed her an apology--even if I didn't hurt her with my thoughtless question, I wanted her to know I later thought about my words and realized they could have hurt her. The blog world is an interesting place...you can feel so close to a person, though you only actually know her through her blog...thus the emails. Tracking down her phone number would be...well...weird, and definitely uninvited. Especially given the circumstance. I keep coming back to "I'm an idiot." I keep melting into a puddle of tears sitting here at my computer. My husband is sitting across from me very patiently not getting completely irritated that I'm so focused and weepy. And it's 11:01, and I need to go to bed.
Sleep. Yeah, that ought to be interesting.
If I have hurt you with my words in the past, I am sorry. Please tell me what I have said. If I do it again, please tell me right then, or as soon as you can. Please forgive me. Please let me make it right.
July 08 Alive...The Frazer family has happily survived yet another long weekend of camping at our local, happy, family campground...complete with pool and fully- functioning bathrooms and showers 50/50 raffles and craft morning and karaoke on Saturday nights...(we didn't attend the karaoke...I just can't handle watching grown people making idiots of themselves under the pavilion at the campgrounds...I don't think I could watch it anywhere else either, actually)(I'm such a snob!!). The kids had a blast, I slept for a few hours each night, the dogs fared better than I expected them to fare, and we came away exhausted and relatively unscathed. The camper is almost unpacked (it amazes me how long it takes to plan and pack for a weekend of camping, and how quickly it all comes apart at the end...other than the laundry...oh, the laundry), the kids are vegging in front of the tv, and Seth decided a pizza was definitely in order for the evening, so they're all munching and staring, munching and staring. I'm catching up on all your blogs, responding to 107 emails (Ok, not all of them require responses--especially the ones advertising medications which I will never purchase, and services no one needs), sorting through a mountain of clothing and towels, and not looking terribly forward to the week ahead...reality sets back in hard, doesn't it? I mean, as a mom, you don't really get away from the responsibilities of food preparation and child-maintenance even when you're technically vacationing, and camping...well, that even further complicates things...but I think I did 10 Sudoku puzzles. I read 3 chapters in a book. And no one fought over whose turn it was to play webkinz (no internet when you're camping!), and no one got mad because they didn't want to set the table (who actually sets the table when they're camping??)(No comments allowed on that one, Mom), and no one cried when bedtime came (because bedtime came 2 hours later than usual, and they practically fell into their bunks!). Now, there were melt-downs (when naps don't exist, and basically, neither do bedtimes, and your neighbors have to make noise at 7:30 in the morning...well, melt-downs are to be expected), and there were frustrating moments, but you know, it was a pretty darn fun time. We even took the kids to see Ratatouille (a very camping-like event, don't you think??) on Friday night and smuggled in way too much candy...I love weekends where everyone feels spoiled.
After the kids go to bed, I'll post pictures. Maybe.
Tomorrow begins VBS. I have such mixed feelings about VBS. I should be slapped, I'm sure. There's something wrong with me. I absolutely loved teaching in a classroom. I hate teaching Sunday School (and I've done it a really, really lot in my life). I loved planning activities, and implementing curriculum, and coming up with wonderful, creative ideas for my students. I dread VBS every summer as much as I dread...hmmm...sorting through the contents of my attic when it's 105 degrees and my kids are begging to play in the pool (can you tell what my household chore is this week?). I know, warped. I should love this, right? I love kids? I totally love crafts. I love doing crafts with my kids, even! But 100 kids in 3 hours, doing a craft a piece...I watch the clock the whole day! I rejoice when 12:00 comes!! By Thursday, I'm praying that I come down with double ear infections and laryngitis. I love my helpers, I love the kids, I am so thankful for the person who heads it all up, and I want my children there for the week of fabulous biblical teaching, creativity on the part of our children's ministry team (they write the curriculum every year, and it's seriously amazing...), excellent new kids worship songs, new friendships and new understanding about God's teaching and a few days of hanging out with another great grown-up...I just don't enjoy VBS. I got out of it for a couple of years when I couldn't justify throwing Bryson in the nursery for 3 hours over 5 days while I helped out with it...I said when he was old enough to be in an actual class, then I would help. This is his third summer in an actual VBS class. And my third summer helping. So many times I have said, "I'm just going to tell them I can't do it. This isn't my calling. I don't enjoy this area of ministry. I don't teach Sunday School because this isn't where God wants to use me right now. VBS is no different." Then I see the announcements in the bulletin, and I get a phone call from the director, and I'm right back in the thick of it. It's totally guilt. It's totally horrible. I can't justify being home by myself while my kids are doing this wonderful thing (which requires serious adult involvement at Victory) for five days when I could be helping. 275 kids is a lot of kids.
I'm an awful person.
Being a stay-at-home mom who babysits everyone else's kids and always has a couple of extras and sends kids home with spontaneous art projects does not make me a wonderful VBS craft teacher candidate. I will do it every summer...and I will do it with a smile on my face...but I will always count the minutes. The hours. The days...until it's over. And then I'll be so thankful it only comes once a year. And Deb, our amazing, talented director, if by some odd coincidence you happen to read this, please know that I will only talk this way for this brief moment...and I'll be there early all week long. I love being helpful. I know that God will use this week of VBS in a mighty way...and if I can just be a tiny, tiny piece of the foundation that supports the work that's going on there...well...I'll be there.
Please pray for me this week. Maybe I just need an attitude adjustment. |
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