Thursday, January 18, 2007
Wednesday, January 17, 2007
In Which I Resolve to be Lazier
While there is a side of me that is definitely random, spontaneous, creative, and even (though I hate to admit it) touchy-feely, there is also the other side to me that got me dubbed the designated engineer at my former workplace. I love plotting things out: designing databases, writing curriculum, and making grand, all-encompassing housework plans.
With the new year, I had some lovely changes to make. No more letting dishes sit in the sink overnight! No more leaving DOB's ironing until the last minute! More cooking in advance to make things easier! Actually mopping the floor occasionally! It all worked beautifully on paper. I even resolved to leave the computer off until after lunch to prevent me being distracted during the morning.
Maybe I should have waited until D2 and I had stabilized a bit more after weaning. Maybe I should have just tried one new thing at a time. Anyway, I crashed. Badly. Post-weaning hormones may have had something to do with it, as may a little scheme by the ducklings. I think this is what they're talking about when they seem to be playing sweetly together in the other room:
D2: I'm pretty tired tonight, do you think you can handle it?
D1: I could probably manage two or three potty runs, but then I'll be wiped out. Can you do Monday night?
D2: Yeah, I think I'll do the old whimper-in-my-sleep trick. That's not too tiring and really drives her crazy.
D1: Good. Don't wear yourself out; we have to make sure we don't let naptime last too long.
D2: How long do you think it will take for her to get tired enough to send us to see Grandma?
So, the last two days, I have regressed. The dishes have sat. The laundry has sat. I turn the computer on right away in the morning so that I'll be sure to sit down and waste some time instead of trying to get up and straighten everything up. I'm starting to feel quite a bit better.
I haven't entirely given up, though. I still have plans to cook up six pounds of turkey sausage this afternoon to make future meals easier.
But I probably won't wash the pot today.
With the new year, I had some lovely changes to make. No more letting dishes sit in the sink overnight! No more leaving DOB's ironing until the last minute! More cooking in advance to make things easier! Actually mopping the floor occasionally! It all worked beautifully on paper. I even resolved to leave the computer off until after lunch to prevent me being distracted during the morning.
Maybe I should have waited until D2 and I had stabilized a bit more after weaning. Maybe I should have just tried one new thing at a time. Anyway, I crashed. Badly. Post-weaning hormones may have had something to do with it, as may a little scheme by the ducklings. I think this is what they're talking about when they seem to be playing sweetly together in the other room:
D2: I'm pretty tired tonight, do you think you can handle it?
D1: I could probably manage two or three potty runs, but then I'll be wiped out. Can you do Monday night?
D2: Yeah, I think I'll do the old whimper-in-my-sleep trick. That's not too tiring and really drives her crazy.
D1: Good. Don't wear yourself out; we have to make sure we don't let naptime last too long.
D2: How long do you think it will take for her to get tired enough to send us to see Grandma?
So, the last two days, I have regressed. The dishes have sat. The laundry has sat. I turn the computer on right away in the morning so that I'll be sure to sit down and waste some time instead of trying to get up and straighten everything up. I'm starting to feel quite a bit better.
I haven't entirely given up, though. I still have plans to cook up six pounds of turkey sausage this afternoon to make future meals easier.
But I probably won't wash the pot today.
Monday, January 15, 2007
The Natural Balance, as it pertains to Sleep
It's my theory that in every set of parents there is one naturally gifted with the ability to sleep through an attack of armed bandits, and one who awakens every time the children roll over in their sleep. It is not always the father who is the former and the mother who is the latter, but in our case, it is. That is why I scoff when I hear suggestions about fathers helping out in the night. (Ha, ha!)
It is a far, far easier task to take D1 to the potty and answer whatever questions have been troubling her in the night ("Does Papa have a night-night blanket?"), provide D2 with his requisite 20 ounces of water, repeat all bedtime routines and convince them both to go back to sleep than it is to awaken DOB. I think he would wake up if I told him armed bandits were attacking, but only long enough to run them all through. Then he would promptly fall back to sleep. Whereas if I hear a rustle coming from D2's bed I awaken and lie there, heart pounding, for half an hour, wondering if he is about to wake up.
Now, there is good cause for this, of course. If all parents were sound sleepers, the children would die of anguish in the night. If all parents were light sleepers, the parents would die of anguish after about three days with no one getting any sleep at all. But it is hard to be philosophical about the balance of nature when one returns from the third trip of the night to see a contented log undisturbed in the bed.
However, things are looking up. A bit. D2, upon weaning, often sleeps all the way through the night, at long last. And last night we tried the experiment of leaving his water in bed with him, whereupon we discovered that he can find it and drink from it unassisted when he wakes up in the middle of the night.
It is a far, far easier task to take D1 to the potty and answer whatever questions have been troubling her in the night ("Does Papa have a night-night blanket?"), provide D2 with his requisite 20 ounces of water, repeat all bedtime routines and convince them both to go back to sleep than it is to awaken DOB. I think he would wake up if I told him armed bandits were attacking, but only long enough to run them all through. Then he would promptly fall back to sleep. Whereas if I hear a rustle coming from D2's bed I awaken and lie there, heart pounding, for half an hour, wondering if he is about to wake up.
Now, there is good cause for this, of course. If all parents were sound sleepers, the children would die of anguish in the night. If all parents were light sleepers, the parents would die of anguish after about three days with no one getting any sleep at all. But it is hard to be philosophical about the balance of nature when one returns from the third trip of the night to see a contented log undisturbed in the bed.
However, things are looking up. A bit. D2, upon weaning, often sleeps all the way through the night, at long last. And last night we tried the experiment of leaving his water in bed with him, whereupon we discovered that he can find it and drink from it unassisted when he wakes up in the middle of the night.
Saturday, January 13, 2007
Eragon vs. Taran
I read Eragon this week, and couldn't help constantly comparing it, rather unfavorably, to Lloyd Alexander's Prydain Chronicles, which I read about this time last year. They are both fantasies centered on the theme of a young man facing various trials and lessons which prepare him for leadership. (The Prydain Chronicles are aimed at a younger audience, though.)
Paolini is a young man, and his hero gets what young people think they need to face the world: skills, power, street smarts, and freedom.
Alexander, though, while he puts his hero and heroine through the obligatory battles and magical encounters of fantasy, focuses on some quite different lessons: humility, dependence on others, relinquishing of power, enough self-knowledge to cure one of self-focus, and a willingness to do the dull and unglamourous tasks simply because they need to be done. I'm not very old yet, myself (at least I don't FEEL very old yet), but my money's on Alexander's take on growing up.
Besides, he's a lot funnier.
Paolini is a young man, and his hero gets what young people think they need to face the world: skills, power, street smarts, and freedom.
Alexander, though, while he puts his hero and heroine through the obligatory battles and magical encounters of fantasy, focuses on some quite different lessons: humility, dependence on others, relinquishing of power, enough self-knowledge to cure one of self-focus, and a willingness to do the dull and unglamourous tasks simply because they need to be done. I'm not very old yet, myself (at least I don't FEEL very old yet), but my money's on Alexander's take on growing up.
Besides, he's a lot funnier.
Friday, January 12, 2007
Frugal Friday: An Assortment of Curtains
I've never done a Frugal Friday before, but since I stumbled across the topic for the week and it was precisely something I wanted to blog about anyway, I proceed. This is one of Wondergirl's many projects while she was out. In the one corner, the living/dining room with an assortment of oddly-shaped windows and white, white, white walls. In the other corner, Wondergirl armed with a pile of identical burgundy rose sheers inherited from our great aunt. I think she may have used a few safety pins, but other than that, adapting the curtains to the different windows was simply a matter of ingenious draping. The white panels I swiped from my great aunt (or possibly grandmother?) at an earlier date. They're considerably shorter than the burgundy panels, but if you tuck them behind, you can't tell. The tie backs are cut from tulle that was on wedding gifts. The only expenditure on this entire project was a much-needed support for the center of the long curtain rod--otherwise, we just used whatever hardware was on the windows and some cup hooks and nails we had on hand.
Someday I'm going to paint this whole room a nice creamy tan, but until then, these have greatly relieved the white.
Tuesday, January 09, 2007
Miscellaneous
It is not helpful, when one is trying to wean a toddler, to have an older sibling who likes to announce the next activity--"D2! You need to nurse!"--before I can stop her and remind her that no, he doesn't do that anymore. Nonetheless, we must really be done since that didn't really upset him, although it did make him exceedingly eager for me to get on the sandwiches (which were peanut butter and banana, even though DOB thinks that's gross).
Yesterday I was making pizza with the assistance of the ducklings, which means I was making pizzas, D1 was standing on a chair occasionally sprinkling cheese on them and more often filching it for herself or D2, and D2 was standing by the table, grabbing anything edible he could reach. The can of mushrooms suddenly fell out of my hand, rolled across the pizza, struck D2 in the eye, leaving a smear of tomato sauce and cheese it had collected, and scattered on the floor. He was completely unfazed and immediately went after the mushrooms. Do not get between that boy and food.
D1 is going through a fascination with Polite Conversation stage. She will go around the dinner table: "Papa, how was your day?" "My day was fine, how was yours?" "Uh, very well. How was D2's day?" "He had a good day." "How was Mama's day?" It's best not to try a long explanation, though, as she'll just keep moving on to the next person. This still hasn't translated into much speech when accosted in public, but I hope sooner or later it will carry over.
D2 is picking up numerous words, but he shines best at "Yeah!" and "Noooo." "Yeah" is default, but he certainly knows when it's time to throw in a definite No, such as when asked, "Do you want to go night-night?"
Yesterday I was making pizza with the assistance of the ducklings, which means I was making pizzas, D1 was standing on a chair occasionally sprinkling cheese on them and more often filching it for herself or D2, and D2 was standing by the table, grabbing anything edible he could reach. The can of mushrooms suddenly fell out of my hand, rolled across the pizza, struck D2 in the eye, leaving a smear of tomato sauce and cheese it had collected, and scattered on the floor. He was completely unfazed and immediately went after the mushrooms. Do not get between that boy and food.
D1 is going through a fascination with Polite Conversation stage. She will go around the dinner table: "Papa, how was your day?" "My day was fine, how was yours?" "Uh, very well. How was D2's day?" "He had a good day." "How was Mama's day?" It's best not to try a long explanation, though, as she'll just keep moving on to the next person. This still hasn't translated into much speech when accosted in public, but I hope sooner or later it will carry over.
D2 is picking up numerous words, but he shines best at "Yeah!" and "Noooo." "Yeah" is default, but he certainly knows when it's time to throw in a definite No, such as when asked, "Do you want to go night-night?"
Monday, January 08, 2007
Reading Plans
As usual, I have far too many. But here they are, in several categories:
Book Club: I'm a member over here, at Bookfest 2006. Which is Bookfest 2007, now, of course, but it would be awfully cumbersome to change the title every year. I didn't dare try last year, when they had four books a month, but two a month seems more doable. The first one I've read from the list this year was highly enjoyable, and not something I would have found on my own. So I'm looking forward to the rest of the year.
Great Books: I'm trying to tackle some of the Great Books on a more-or-less chronological basis. I still have the Iliad to finish, though. (It's suffering from the usual slighting that goes to books I actually own, as opposed to those I have to return to the library.) I'm not sure whether I'll go on to read the Odyssey (which is bound to be more fun) or skip it and go on to some of the others I want to read this year: Plutarch's Lives, Athanasius' On the Incarnation, and possibly City of God by Augustine and Beowulf later on.
Preview Books: I'm working out a curriculum plan for future years, and previewing books as I go. Basically we want to do a four-year cycle: Ancients, Dark and Middle Ages, American History, and Modern World History. I started at the beginning of the cycle when D1 turned two so that we would be ready to start it over when she turned six. I've been reading books and previewing them, trying to find ones that meet my criteria and that are available through our local library. It's been a lot of fun; I wasn't sure I'd stick with it, but I've found it too enjoyable to give up. (Reviews on the books I do find are over at the other blog.) I'm working up a rough plan and book list now and will make a more detailed plan closer to the actual time. I just pulled in a pile of books on ancient Greece, then we'll do Rome through late spring and summer, and the Dark Ages in the fall.
And then, of course, there are the random books that I come across and can't resist. I try to do one on science now and again; I've read a lot on physics and on brain development and function in recent years, and I'd like to branch out, but I'm not sure into what. Chemistry is something I know very little about, but I've read about molecular bonds at the atomic level, and I'd like to learn about what that looks like on the next level up.
Book Club: I'm a member over here, at Bookfest 2006. Which is Bookfest 2007, now, of course, but it would be awfully cumbersome to change the title every year. I didn't dare try last year, when they had four books a month, but two a month seems more doable. The first one I've read from the list this year was highly enjoyable, and not something I would have found on my own. So I'm looking forward to the rest of the year.
Great Books: I'm trying to tackle some of the Great Books on a more-or-less chronological basis. I still have the Iliad to finish, though. (It's suffering from the usual slighting that goes to books I actually own, as opposed to those I have to return to the library.) I'm not sure whether I'll go on to read the Odyssey (which is bound to be more fun) or skip it and go on to some of the others I want to read this year: Plutarch's Lives, Athanasius' On the Incarnation, and possibly City of God by Augustine and Beowulf later on.
Preview Books: I'm working out a curriculum plan for future years, and previewing books as I go. Basically we want to do a four-year cycle: Ancients, Dark and Middle Ages, American History, and Modern World History. I started at the beginning of the cycle when D1 turned two so that we would be ready to start it over when she turned six. I've been reading books and previewing them, trying to find ones that meet my criteria and that are available through our local library. It's been a lot of fun; I wasn't sure I'd stick with it, but I've found it too enjoyable to give up. (Reviews on the books I do find are over at the other blog.) I'm working up a rough plan and book list now and will make a more detailed plan closer to the actual time. I just pulled in a pile of books on ancient Greece, then we'll do Rome through late spring and summer, and the Dark Ages in the fall.
And then, of course, there are the random books that I come across and can't resist. I try to do one on science now and again; I've read a lot on physics and on brain development and function in recent years, and I'd like to branch out, but I'm not sure into what. Chemistry is something I know very little about, but I've read about molecular bonds at the atomic level, and I'd like to learn about what that looks like on the next level up.
Saturday, January 06, 2007
The $10 Dollhouse, before and after
Actually, all that paint did cost something, so it's more like a $20 dollhouse afterwards. But that's still a great deal on a two-story wooden dollhouse. It's pretty plain inside, just all painted white, but that just leaves lots of room for upgrades on future Christmases.
History, Etiquette, and probably a few stray things as well
This blog really began nearly a decade ago as a weekly email to my sister, who lived far away. She found it amusing and read it to her co-workers. Some other siblings got word of it and started asking to be put on my list. My grandparents got on the internet and wanted to be included. Pretty soon there were quite a number of people on the list, and it began to get unwieldy to keep track of the addresses, not to mention taxing on my memory to remember all the amusing incidents of the week and write them down at the end of it.
Shortly after I got married, I discovered the possibility of blogging. It was the perfect solution: I didn't have to keep track of the email addresses, I could post things as they happened, and there was a place to store it off my computer, which kept crashing in an un-backed-up state.
I've never made my blog private for several reasons. One is that I want it to be easy to pass on to family members who may not be very comfortable on the internet. Another is that I've never wanted to bother with it. The main one, though, is that I like to meet new people. I've made many good friends through blogging. I even like to meet people who disagree with me, as long as they're civil about it.
What I don't like is people who are rude. Yes, a blog is public, but even guests who come on an open invitation should be polite. It's still my blog. It's like opening up my house for an open house; I'm happy for you to come and nibble at the snacks. I'll even let you use the bathroom. But don't poke in the cupboards. Don't start insulting me the minute you walk in the door, and then act surprised when I am less than gracious in response. (Perhaps I should be. But I am a mere mortal, and even the immortals aren't fond of being insulted.)
Responding to a general post on family events by insinuating that I abuse my children is just rude--particularly when you've never uttered a word on my blog before. I don't need to answer someone's questions when they do that, because rude questions can be politely ignored. Perhaps ignoring them entirely or deleting the question would have been the better course of action, but I have a hard time resisting the urge to dialogue.
So here are some rules for discussion:
If I express an opinion, feel free to disagree. But do so in a civil tone, addressing the opinion and not personally attacking my character or motives.
If I recount an event, feel free to recount contradicting experiences. Be cautious about jumping to grand conclusions about my beliefs or general practices on the basis of an isolated event. At any time, attacks on character and motives are rude.
I decide what rooms are off limits. Some things are private. It doesn't mean they're bad, or that I'm ashamed of anything in my life (I'm not) but there are some things I don't want to discuss in public. The mention of something connected doesn't give people the right to pry. You can ask, politely, but don't get all huffy if I don't answer. Call it self-centered, but I don't owe you anything, including information. It's. my. blog.
I am going to delete the discussion in question. It wasn't getting anywhere. In the future, I will most likely do the same with any personal attacks or excessively nosy questions. I will continue to welcome polite disagreement.
And hopefully now I will get back to the regularly scheduled programming. I have pictures of projects accomplished during Wondergirl's visit, a book reading plan for the year, and musings on some new books. I may even dare to mention the ducklings (whom, for the record, I do not hit, ever) again before too long.
Shortly after I got married, I discovered the possibility of blogging. It was the perfect solution: I didn't have to keep track of the email addresses, I could post things as they happened, and there was a place to store it off my computer, which kept crashing in an un-backed-up state.
I've never made my blog private for several reasons. One is that I want it to be easy to pass on to family members who may not be very comfortable on the internet. Another is that I've never wanted to bother with it. The main one, though, is that I like to meet new people. I've made many good friends through blogging. I even like to meet people who disagree with me, as long as they're civil about it.
What I don't like is people who are rude. Yes, a blog is public, but even guests who come on an open invitation should be polite. It's still my blog. It's like opening up my house for an open house; I'm happy for you to come and nibble at the snacks. I'll even let you use the bathroom. But don't poke in the cupboards. Don't start insulting me the minute you walk in the door, and then act surprised when I am less than gracious in response. (Perhaps I should be. But I am a mere mortal, and even the immortals aren't fond of being insulted.)
Responding to a general post on family events by insinuating that I abuse my children is just rude--particularly when you've never uttered a word on my blog before. I don't need to answer someone's questions when they do that, because rude questions can be politely ignored. Perhaps ignoring them entirely or deleting the question would have been the better course of action, but I have a hard time resisting the urge to dialogue.
So here are some rules for discussion:
If I express an opinion, feel free to disagree. But do so in a civil tone, addressing the opinion and not personally attacking my character or motives.
If I recount an event, feel free to recount contradicting experiences. Be cautious about jumping to grand conclusions about my beliefs or general practices on the basis of an isolated event. At any time, attacks on character and motives are rude.
I decide what rooms are off limits. Some things are private. It doesn't mean they're bad, or that I'm ashamed of anything in my life (I'm not) but there are some things I don't want to discuss in public. The mention of something connected doesn't give people the right to pry. You can ask, politely, but don't get all huffy if I don't answer. Call it self-centered, but I don't owe you anything, including information. It's. my. blog.
I am going to delete the discussion in question. It wasn't getting anywhere. In the future, I will most likely do the same with any personal attacks or excessively nosy questions. I will continue to welcome polite disagreement.
And hopefully now I will get back to the regularly scheduled programming. I have pictures of projects accomplished during Wondergirl's visit, a book reading plan for the year, and musings on some new books. I may even dare to mention the ducklings (whom, for the record, I do not hit, ever) again before too long.
Wednesday, January 03, 2007
Into the Wardrobe
I hated shopping even before I had small children. With small children, it's just out of the question. If I can't get it at the grocery store, I don't buy it.
But, with my sister here, some much-needed shopping is taking place. I even bought some clothes, which has always been a problematic area for me. Because I go shopping so rarely, and have rather strict requirements in the decency department, I usually feel a desparation to buy something--anything--that seems marginally workable. The end result is a lot of clothes that I don't really like.
So this time I resolved not to buy anything that I didn't love, and that furthermore it had to be workable with my life (i.e. washable and not showing stains) and be a good buy. Much to my surprise, I actually found one skirt and half a dozen blouses that met this standard. I even worked up my nerve to go into a more trendy-looking store--which I usually have avoided because I neither desire to wear hooded sweatshirts nor air my navel--and was astonished to discover some extremely cute striped stretch shirts and ribbed turtlenecks to layer.
In that vein, I've been interested lately by a new blog find, The Space Between My Peers, which is fashion discussion from a SAHM who homeschools. Clothes for real people. And who besides a homeschooling mom would explain outfit balancing with Cuisenaire rods?
I'm still working on what sort of clothes really work with my current job. Plain t-shirts and solid knits in general are seriously overrated--they show stains way too easily. Better to get something with texture and a little pattern (at least heathered) that will camouflage. I like TSBMP's advice to think of wardrobes in terms of tops and bottoms to wear around the house, and accent top pieces to toss over the top when you go out. This also helps cover up the drool. Also, low-riding skirts are more forgiving of waistline changes than ones that ride at the waist. And straight skirts or ones that button just are not going to survive sitting cross-legged on the floor.
So, I'm heading up into the attic, finding blazers that I had thought I retired, and trying them out with more practical skirts and blouses. I'm dragging out all my scarves, which didn't work at the neck anymore, and wearing them in my hair and as belts. I'm casting my net a little wider to find new things to try. I'm trying to put into words what I really like in clothes, so I know what I'm looking for (rich colors, especially red, green and brown, stripes, curved lines, extra stitching and details) and what I'll never enjoy (anything too girly or too bland). It's fun.
I've tried periodically to cure myself of caring about clothes. But I've never quite succeeded.
But, with my sister here, some much-needed shopping is taking place. I even bought some clothes, which has always been a problematic area for me. Because I go shopping so rarely, and have rather strict requirements in the decency department, I usually feel a desparation to buy something--anything--that seems marginally workable. The end result is a lot of clothes that I don't really like.
So this time I resolved not to buy anything that I didn't love, and that furthermore it had to be workable with my life (i.e. washable and not showing stains) and be a good buy. Much to my surprise, I actually found one skirt and half a dozen blouses that met this standard. I even worked up my nerve to go into a more trendy-looking store--which I usually have avoided because I neither desire to wear hooded sweatshirts nor air my navel--and was astonished to discover some extremely cute striped stretch shirts and ribbed turtlenecks to layer.
In that vein, I've been interested lately by a new blog find, The Space Between My Peers, which is fashion discussion from a SAHM who homeschools. Clothes for real people. And who besides a homeschooling mom would explain outfit balancing with Cuisenaire rods?
I'm still working on what sort of clothes really work with my current job. Plain t-shirts and solid knits in general are seriously overrated--they show stains way too easily. Better to get something with texture and a little pattern (at least heathered) that will camouflage. I like TSBMP's advice to think of wardrobes in terms of tops and bottoms to wear around the house, and accent top pieces to toss over the top when you go out. This also helps cover up the drool. Also, low-riding skirts are more forgiving of waistline changes than ones that ride at the waist. And straight skirts or ones that button just are not going to survive sitting cross-legged on the floor.
So, I'm heading up into the attic, finding blazers that I had thought I retired, and trying them out with more practical skirts and blouses. I'm dragging out all my scarves, which didn't work at the neck anymore, and wearing them in my hair and as belts. I'm casting my net a little wider to find new things to try. I'm trying to put into words what I really like in clothes, so I know what I'm looking for (rich colors, especially red, green and brown, stripes, curved lines, extra stitching and details) and what I'll never enjoy (anything too girly or too bland). It's fun.
I've tried periodically to cure myself of caring about clothes. But I've never quite succeeded.
Friday, December 29, 2006
Things Happening Around Here
Posting has been light (OK, absent) because my sister is here, and that means we have been very, very busy. She is not called Wondergirl for nothing. She just wanders about the house, doing the regular things, and then suddenly says, "If we moved this over there, we could put this back here, and then this would be over there. Would that be better?" And behold, it would be better, and she moves it all around and suddenly the house is neater and more efficient and prettier. All sorts of little projects that I've been wanting to get to are suddenly done.
Also we went shopping at the clearance sales at the outlet mall the day after Christmas, and then scouted out thrift stores the next day. Now I know where one is three minutes from DOB's work, and I finally found a brown suede purse that will work for me, as well as the cords I couldn't find at the clearance sales.
D2 is starting to repeat all sorts of words: "Cracker," "Jesus" (On Christmas morning, no less), "Walking." He wasn't too thrilled with all the running around, though, and in general has been rather cranky. Hopefully it's mostly teeth and will go away when these molars come through. We're making slow but steady progress on weaning~last night he made it through the whole night on just water and seems quite happy this morning.
I hesitate to rejoice too soon, but we may be seeing some progress on the potty-training front, too. Of course I read the books and they all said to use positive reinforcements to teach potty training, that wet pants alone were enough negative reinforcement, that punishment just led to power struggles, etc. Well, D1 liked the stickers and candy just fine. But when you're getting stickers and such all day, what's an occasional miss? So, on Christmas Eve, after she'd ruined the second kitchen chair in an hour, I decided I'd had enough and resorted to a more punitive form of reinforcement. She hasn't had a waking accident since, even with hours in the car and in strange places. Maybe she just needed that to be convinced that wet pants were no longer an acceptable lifestyle option.
Also we went shopping at the clearance sales at the outlet mall the day after Christmas, and then scouted out thrift stores the next day. Now I know where one is three minutes from DOB's work, and I finally found a brown suede purse that will work for me, as well as the cords I couldn't find at the clearance sales.
D2 is starting to repeat all sorts of words: "Cracker," "Jesus" (On Christmas morning, no less), "Walking." He wasn't too thrilled with all the running around, though, and in general has been rather cranky. Hopefully it's mostly teeth and will go away when these molars come through. We're making slow but steady progress on weaning~last night he made it through the whole night on just water and seems quite happy this morning.
I hesitate to rejoice too soon, but we may be seeing some progress on the potty-training front, too. Of course I read the books and they all said to use positive reinforcements to teach potty training, that wet pants alone were enough negative reinforcement, that punishment just led to power struggles, etc. Well, D1 liked the stickers and candy just fine. But when you're getting stickers and such all day, what's an occasional miss? So, on Christmas Eve, after she'd ruined the second kitchen chair in an hour, I decided I'd had enough and resorted to a more punitive form of reinforcement. She hasn't had a waking accident since, even with hours in the car and in strange places. Maybe she just needed that to be convinced that wet pants were no longer an acceptable lifestyle option.
Sunday, December 24, 2006
Merry Christmas!
First Christmases are overrated. Second and Third Christmases are so much more fun.
Friday, December 22, 2006
Christmas, Christmas
Various snippets of excitement from around here:
Making the Swedish Tea Ring for Christmas breakfast (or, as D1 dubbed it, the tea ring ring.)
D1 enjoyed making thumbprint stationery to give as gifts.
D2 did not. He just wanted to hold the ink pad.
Making the Swedish Tea Ring for Christmas breakfast (or, as D1 dubbed it, the tea ring ring.)
D1 enjoyed making thumbprint stationery to give as gifts.
D2 did not. He just wanted to hold the ink pad.
Wednesday, December 20, 2006
The Time Has Come
Sometimes it's time. Sometimes you're not sure it's time, but you plow ahead anyway. That's where I am with D2 and a certain form of sustenance.
I'm very big on Avoiding Bottles, although this has as much to do with cheapness and laziness as anything else. But D2 has long since grown past any need for that sort of supplementation; he can sit at the table and hold his own glass and wield his own fork (even if he has to poke the food on with his other hand.) Nursing him has gotten to be a dreary chore, as he hates to sit still with his back to the world for that long and usually spends the entire time with arms and legs flailing. Yet he keeps asking for it.
So, I decided it was time to nudge him a little. He spent the day at Grandma's on Friday and survived fine as long as he didn't see me. (Probably didn't help, though, that I arrived *before* the potluck started.) Gingerbread covers a multitude of maternal neglect. Having meals ready a little early helps. And I haven't even begun to cut out nights yet.
But he's still not entirely pleased with me. Yesterday at lunch screamed with protest through most of the meal, even as he managed to eat it with relish. (When he settled down a little I let him sit on my lap and fed him myself. This seemed to console him somewhat.) The rest of the day, he didn't seem to mind.
What he really wants is Mama and Food. It's not that important to him that the two come combined any more, but it's hard to take time to give him a little extra of both while he gets used to the change.
I'm very big on Avoiding Bottles, although this has as much to do with cheapness and laziness as anything else. But D2 has long since grown past any need for that sort of supplementation; he can sit at the table and hold his own glass and wield his own fork (even if he has to poke the food on with his other hand.) Nursing him has gotten to be a dreary chore, as he hates to sit still with his back to the world for that long and usually spends the entire time with arms and legs flailing. Yet he keeps asking for it.
So, I decided it was time to nudge him a little. He spent the day at Grandma's on Friday and survived fine as long as he didn't see me. (Probably didn't help, though, that I arrived *before* the potluck started.) Gingerbread covers a multitude of maternal neglect. Having meals ready a little early helps. And I haven't even begun to cut out nights yet.
But he's still not entirely pleased with me. Yesterday at lunch screamed with protest through most of the meal, even as he managed to eat it with relish. (When he settled down a little I let him sit on my lap and fed him myself. This seemed to console him somewhat.) The rest of the day, he didn't seem to mind.
What he really wants is Mama and Food. It's not that important to him that the two come combined any more, but it's hard to take time to give him a little extra of both while he gets used to the change.
Monday, December 18, 2006
Christmas Quiz
Which I took from Devona.
1. Egg Nog or Hot Chocolate?
1. Egg Nog or Hot Chocolate?
I've never tried eggnog. Hot chocolate sounds good in theory but never quite lives up to its promise. I like milk.
2. Does Santa wrap presents or just set them under the tree?
EVERYTHING must be wrapped. If Santa won't wrap the gifts, then he can't come. I even wrap gifts for myself.
3. Colored or white lights on the tree and/or house?
White. Colored are (usually) tacky.
4. Do you hang mistletoe?
We have a cardboard cutout of a foot with weaponish toes, but we don't actually hang it up.5. When do you put your decorations up?
When I get the chance. I prefer right after Thanksgiving, but that hasn't happened lately.6. What is your favorite holiday dish (excluding dessert)?
Crabs in cocktail sauce on Christmas Eve. Not that we do that out here. But it was yummy when we did.
7. Favorite holiday memory as a child.
Sitting alone in the dark in the living room with the Christmas tree lights on and soft music playing.
8. When and how did you learn the truth about Santa?
No one really believed in Santa at our house. After awhile we stopped leaving out milk and cookies for him and started leaving out veggies and dip for the Grinch.
9. Do you open a gift on Christmas Eve?
I prefer not to. But sometimes it's hard to avoid.
10. How do you decorate your Christmas tree?
By hanging ornaments on it, of course.
11. Snow! Love it or dread it?
I love it if I don't have to drive in it.
Yes, even backwards! No fancy spins, though.
13. Do you remember your favorite gift?
14. What’s the most important thing about the holidays for you?
(Humming) TRADITION! (Oh wait, wrong religion.)
15. What is your favorite holiday dessert?
Cookies. Krumkaka are required to be the favorite cookie, but after that, perhaps peppermint spritz.
16. What is your favorite holiday tradition?
Anything that involves little kids.
18. Which do you prefer, giving or receiving?
Both. Either one by itself is not nearly as much fun.
19. What is your favorite Christmas song?
Secular, "Have Yourself a Merry Little Christmas"
Sacred, "O Little Town of Bethlehem"
20. Candy Canes! Yuck or yum?
Yum for the first three licks. After that, yuck.
And now I really must stop procrastinating and go clean the bathrooms.
Friday, December 15, 2006
Deck the Halls
If you need help decorating your tree, I know two people who would be delighted to help.
Thanks to Uncle Steve & Aunt Bettie for pictures.
Tuesday, December 12, 2006
Women, Children and Chores
I'm a terrible internet writer, because I like to think about things for awhile before I write them. So I find by the time that I'm ready to sit down and compose my thoughts, the world at large has moved on to other topics, it's too much trouble to dig up the original link, and my thoughts probably are no longer very connected to the original idea. It's all right though, I'm not entirely ready to abandon the advantages of thought.
Anyway, a week or two ago I read the blog of a mother who was upset that her children, whom she had hoped would just be willing to cheerfully help with whatever needed to be done, actually hated to work and complained about whatever she asked them to do; she was considering whether perhaps the idea of regular, defined chores had some merit, after all.
I don't think she's alone in her ideals; in fact, I suspect most mothers secretly think that's the way things ought to be; I know mine certainly did. And to give you a rare glimpse into a nearly-as-rare Source of Tension in the Duchy, I tend to think DOB should just see when I need help and come to my side, whereas he thinks I should come and ask him so he knows what to do.
Women have a good reason for thinking this way; it's the way they operate toward their home. They don't wait to be told what to do, they figure out what to do and then do it. And if they can't figure it out, they go read all the books and websites they can to tell them what to do; and if they still can't figure out what to do, they weep and despair and raid the freezer. One seldom finds children or even grown men feeling this way about their house; they may be neat or sloppy but they are generally not troubled with the constant sense that Things Could Be Better.
What women need to realize is this sense they have is a combination of many factors--long training, social pressures, the predominately female desire to nurture, a sense of ownership and control in the house--and that few, if any of those factors are present in children. They really wouldn't want them to be. A kingdom doesn't do well with two kings, and a house doesn't do well with two keepers. Mother wanting to do things this way and Daughter wanting to do things that way is the source of countless conflicts when they're grown up; you really don't want to push it along before they've learned some better people skills.
Since the children can't run the house, there are only a few options left. They could do nothing and live a life of idleness, which is good for no one. They could do regular chores, which we will address in a minute. Or they could simply "help out where needed," which often sounds to mothers like the best of the options.
But think about what it means from the other end. It means you have no advance warning of how long you'll have to work or what you'll have to do. It means you get none of the advantages of a habit, of doing something customary. It means you have no ownership over your time. In short, it means you are a slave. And no one likes being treated like a slave, not even a six-year-old.
Which leaves us with regular, defined chores. A child with regular chores is not a slave, he's an employee. It's not the highest place on the scale of work, but it's a place that's reachable for children. They can learn the skills and practices that will help them to actually see what is needed. They'll get accustomed to work so that they know it's not really such a terrible thing. And they'll still have some control over their own time.
There's still a lot of room left for teach a servant's heart, for helping them see needs, for being willing to pitch in during an emergency, for praising unsolicited assistance. But regular chores teach the basics that make those advanced concepts more achievable.
Anyway, a week or two ago I read the blog of a mother who was upset that her children, whom she had hoped would just be willing to cheerfully help with whatever needed to be done, actually hated to work and complained about whatever she asked them to do; she was considering whether perhaps the idea of regular, defined chores had some merit, after all.
I don't think she's alone in her ideals; in fact, I suspect most mothers secretly think that's the way things ought to be; I know mine certainly did. And to give you a rare glimpse into a nearly-as-rare Source of Tension in the Duchy, I tend to think DOB should just see when I need help and come to my side, whereas he thinks I should come and ask him so he knows what to do.
Women have a good reason for thinking this way; it's the way they operate toward their home. They don't wait to be told what to do, they figure out what to do and then do it. And if they can't figure it out, they go read all the books and websites they can to tell them what to do; and if they still can't figure out what to do, they weep and despair and raid the freezer. One seldom finds children or even grown men feeling this way about their house; they may be neat or sloppy but they are generally not troubled with the constant sense that Things Could Be Better.
What women need to realize is this sense they have is a combination of many factors--long training, social pressures, the predominately female desire to nurture, a sense of ownership and control in the house--and that few, if any of those factors are present in children. They really wouldn't want them to be. A kingdom doesn't do well with two kings, and a house doesn't do well with two keepers. Mother wanting to do things this way and Daughter wanting to do things that way is the source of countless conflicts when they're grown up; you really don't want to push it along before they've learned some better people skills.
Since the children can't run the house, there are only a few options left. They could do nothing and live a life of idleness, which is good for no one. They could do regular chores, which we will address in a minute. Or they could simply "help out where needed," which often sounds to mothers like the best of the options.
But think about what it means from the other end. It means you have no advance warning of how long you'll have to work or what you'll have to do. It means you get none of the advantages of a habit, of doing something customary. It means you have no ownership over your time. In short, it means you are a slave. And no one likes being treated like a slave, not even a six-year-old.
Which leaves us with regular, defined chores. A child with regular chores is not a slave, he's an employee. It's not the highest place on the scale of work, but it's a place that's reachable for children. They can learn the skills and practices that will help them to actually see what is needed. They'll get accustomed to work so that they know it's not really such a terrible thing. And they'll still have some control over their own time.
There's still a lot of room left for teach a servant's heart, for helping them see needs, for being willing to pitch in during an emergency, for praising unsolicited assistance. But regular chores teach the basics that make those advanced concepts more achievable.
Monday, December 11, 2006
The Physics of Superheroes
I haven't finished this book yet, but I'm enjoying it immensely and can't resist the urge to tell about it. It is by far the most enjoyable thing I've ever read on physics OR superheroes. Not that I've read much on either, but that just goes to prove its power. If you've ever wondered what we can deduce about the planet Krypton from Superman's powers, whether Spiderman really could swing from a web, or how many cheeseburgers the Flash would need to eat, this is the place to find out. You'll also get a history of Silver Age comics, fashion critiques, and the essential connection between Einstein's Theory of Special Relativity and your shopping list.
And while I'm at it, it turns out that:
I am Spider-Man
Click here to take the Superhero Personality Test
And while I'm at it, it turns out that:
I am Spider-Man
| You are intelligent, witty, a bit geeky and have great power and responsibility.  |
Click here to take the Superhero Personality Test
Various Festive Activities
Friday was our Annual Insane Cookie Bake. We are still not nearly so elaborate as the Original Insane Cookie Bake, but we managed a fair degree of insanity nonetheless. I would have taken a picture, but I was too busy trying to limit the sprinkle-shaking to within two feet of the table.
We made had three grownups, four children (all under four) and made five kinds of cookies: shortbread, glazed rum cookies, sugar cookies, peanut butter blossoms, and candy canes.
Saturday we put up our tree, risking life and limb (or at least a ticket) in driving the wagon with expired tags; sure enough, the new tags were waiting in the mailbox when we got home. As is traditional, Uncle Steve and Aunt Bettie came to help us, and as is also becoming traditional, we stuck them with a large unrelated task while we had them handy. (Last year it was melting ice off the roof in preparation for the Roto Rooter man. This year we only had them watch the kids for a couple of hours. I'm not sure which was worse.)
So, now we have cookies; we have a tree. We are just about all set.
We made had three grownups, four children (all under four) and made five kinds of cookies: shortbread, glazed rum cookies, sugar cookies, peanut butter blossoms, and candy canes.
Saturday we put up our tree, risking life and limb (or at least a ticket) in driving the wagon with expired tags; sure enough, the new tags were waiting in the mailbox when we got home. As is traditional, Uncle Steve and Aunt Bettie came to help us, and as is also becoming traditional, we stuck them with a large unrelated task while we had them handy. (Last year it was melting ice off the roof in preparation for the Roto Rooter man. This year we only had them watch the kids for a couple of hours. I'm not sure which was worse.)
So, now we have cookies; we have a tree. We are just about all set.
Sunday, December 10, 2006
Advent Calendar
This is our advent calendar. Baby Jesus is under 25, of course, and Mary and Joseph on either side. I can't show what's under all the panels, because you're not allowed to turn them over early. But you get the idea.
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