The Garage

My guy needs a bigger garage. He is the kind of guy who always has a project going. He does carpentry, electrical work, mechanical car repair, toy fixing, and any sort of small fix-it task all from our tiny, crowded garage. There are things lining every wall, and even things hanging from the ceiling. He does some great work in this garage.



A couple weeks ago, he changed the brakes on my car. Here is a picture of it in progress.


Click on it if you want to see it larger. Oh, he has tried to organize it, tried to clean it out. He just has too many things to fit. Plus, whenever a tool makes its way into the house and it sits on the counter or the dresser for a couple weeks and I get tired of it, I just take it out to the garage and lay it somewhere. I figure that's better than sticking it in some random drawer or on a random hook, but probably not better than just leaving it and letting him put it away properly in his own time. But I'm not the kind of person who can just leave things laying around on surfaces. I'm a compulsive counter clearer.


That is my car. It is a Toyota Camry, and it's almost 21 years old. I think that's pretty old for a car. It has some rust spots, and buttons falling off inside and the air conditioning is broken. But it runs very well, mostly thanks to my husband who can fix anything. He wants to fix the air conditioning, but I told him not to because it doesn't seem worth it to me. Thanks to this car (and his old beater car too), we get to take nice vacations every once in a while. Not having a car payment for 10 years will do that to a budget.


I admit I'm beginning to yearn for a nicer, newer car. But then I contemplate our next big vacation (England? Arizona? Australia? Niagara Falls? Japan?) and I turn those thoughts away.


But anyway, that's our garage. It's messy. It's full. Lots of good stuff happens there.


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My Grandma

My dad's mom was stupendous. I loved going to her house. I have so many memories of playing there with my sister--things like shutting all the doors in her L shaped hallway and bouncing superballs. Those wood floors were so shiny. Or setting up elaborate farms using Legos.


Many of my favorite memories are from times when I went there by myself to stay the night. I felt so special, because she'd lead me to the spare bedroom that she had set up. She'd put my suitcase in the closet while I noticed that she'd put out a new air freshener on the dresser.


She would color with me. She had a great selection of coloring books. She called crayons crins and she colored in a circular motion. I liked to sit and color on her window seat with the plant.


I followed her around while she did her chores. Her house was always immaculate, but still very cozy and livable. She swept up the big black flies that had fallen to the floor. She set out the daily newspaper with the comics separate, for people to read when they came over.


Because she cooked lunch (but called it dinner) every day, for anyone who wanted to come. People always came. My dad, my uncle, various cousins and their spouses, farm hands. She was the queen of side dishes. Each lunch would have one or two main courses and a lot of sides. We're talking mashed potatoes, noodles, corn, green beans, sliced tomatoes, and rolls. For one lunch.


But back to spending the night. She would let me stay up as late as I wanted, which was never as late as her. I would ask her, "Grandma, how late are you going to stay up?" She'd say, "Oh, probably until about 11:00." I asked her when she got up and told me that it was usually around 5:00 a.m. "You don't need as much sleep when you get old."


In the morning, I would wake up to the sound of her shoes walking around the kitchen. She always wore shoes, even in the house. The best thing about breakfast was the Tang. She'd make me a big glass of Tang, and some bacon and eggs. It felt kind of strange to be the only two people at her very long dining table. She always had a banana, and a slew of medications.


While she did her housework, we'd watch The Price is Right and Days of Our Lives. I'd sneak Reese's peanut butter cups from the fridge and eat them, but not in her front room with the white carpet. Except I didn't really have to sneak them, she would have let me have as many as I wanted.


As I got older, I didn't spend the night anymore. But I did go to her house when the rest of my family went to the high school basketball games. I didn't have much interest in sports. Still don't. She and I would play Rook or Uno at that long table. We laughed so much.


I miss her. She died when I was about 5 months pregnant with Bee. I so wish she could have met my kids, and that they could have played in her house, and drank her Tang.



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Three Rants

Everybody needs to whine once in a while! Here's mine.

1. I do not like compact flourescent light bulbs. I know they are more energy efficient, I know they are better for the earth. But I don't like them. I feel like most people won't properly dispose of them. I'm afraid one will break and mercury will contaminate my house. I know it's such a small amount, but still, I worry anyway. Flourescent lighting of any kind is a trigger for my son's SPD. He has visual defensiveness, and the flickering really bothers him. Take him into any big store with flourescent lights, and you'll want to get out of there quick.


2. Gluten free packaged food is so expensive! Luckily, I've been able to make most things. But I do buy a few things for him. I finally found a sandwich bread that he loves. It's a box mix that I put in my bread machine. It costs $7.00! A bag of pretzels costs $7.50. Granola bars or breakfast bars are 5 for $6.00. Rice crackers are cheap, at only $2.50, but it is a small amount. I bought him some animal crackers that were $5.oo. The various flours are more expensive too. I've been cooking more than I ever have before, and I'm not the biggest fan of cooking. Last Friday at school, they made pizza. I told him he could eat it if he wanted, figuring it would be a good test to see if the GF diet is truly helping. The weekend was rough, so I think it is helping. Although, I did find out that the pizza sauce had MSG in it, so maybe it was just that. Soon I'll try to add in gluten without MSG and see what happens. Anyway, it's expensive, but worth it.


3. This one is kind of a rant against myself. Remember our friends from Japan who sent the Bento Boxes? They are so generous. Every time we see them they have a gift for the kids. Well, about 3 months ago I finally put together a package for them. I filled it with candy, facial masks, and canned pumpkin and cranberry jelly. Those are things they can't get in Japan and miss having. I wrote a little note and put it in. Then I waited on My Guy to write a letter to put in as well. He finally wrote it about a month ago. It took me another week to get it labeled, because I couldn't find their address. I was too lazy to put it in my address book. What I did was cut out the return address on their last package, and tape it to the one I was sending. After all that, I finally took it to the post office today. The man at the counter told me that I needed to fill out a customs form, which required the address in English. Because I was so lazy, I only had the cut out address in Japanese. Arg! The package is currently sitting in the front passenger seat of my car. I wonder how long it will sit there?


Aah, that feels better!



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It's A Sleep Miracle!

When I was 22 years old, I started my first full-time, post college job. I was standing in the office filing some papers, and chatting with a couple coworkers and my boss. My boss said, "I haven't slept in 6 years. When you have a kid, you just don't get to sleep anymore." I was thinking, her son is 6 years old, don't kids sleep well when they're no longer babies? Don't they need lots of sleep? Don't they get up on Saturday mornings and watch cartoons while you sleep in?


Ha!


She was so right. Now my son is 6 years old. He was never a sleep-through-the-night kind of baby. We worried and we tried this thing and that thing and we slept with him and we moved him to his own room and we read books about sleep and we were tired. We never made him cry it out because that just is not something I would ever do. But we tried a lot of things. We fretted.


What I mean is, that for the first two years of his life he woke up approximately every 2 hours every single night. Oh sure, there were a few good nights thrown in there just to tease us, but mostly it was no sleep all the time. Slowly he began to sleep for longer stretches, pretty much all on his own. Around 2.5 years old, he was only waking once or twice a night. By age 3, he was sleeping well, usually only waking if he had a bad dream or a night terror or was cold, so maybe a few times a week. By 3.5 years old, he was sleeping great. (Falling asleep is another story, for another day. But he was staying asleep well. Also, he does still wake up at night if he has a bad dream or is sick or something, of course.)


But then, just as he was sleeping better, I got pregnant. I slept terribly all through my pregnancy. Goose was born, and we decided that our sleep solution was simply to surrender. So we did. Surrendering has been a great blessing. I have no expectations for how she'll sleep, and I no longer have the idea that sleep issues are a problem that need to be fixed. It just is what it is. She slept great for her first 4 or 5 or 6 months, but I didn't let it fool me. Sure enough, she started teething and hasn't slept well since.


Until last night!


Somehow, for some reason that I will never know, she slept for 12 hours in a row, without waking up even once!


I mean, seriously? How can that be? For the past 12 months she has woken up anywhere from 3-8 times a night.


You probably think I feel like a million bucks today, but I don't. I think I'm more tired than ever. I still woke up several times and looked at the clock, and freaked out thinking I was going to reach over and find her not breathing. But every time I laid my hand on her chest, she was just fine.


She was just sleeping! Hooray!


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Musical Wonderful

Last night my guy and I dropped the kids off with my sister, and then went to a musical. We saw a high school production of Little Shop of Horrors. My niece was a skid row resident, and it was really fun to watch her sing and perform. She has a talent for the stage, and if you ask her, she'll even say she doesn't get nervous. We share some genes, but that isn't one of them! I'd have been a nervous wreck!


She did a great job. Here is a picture of her in the last song, after she'd been eaten by Audrey II.



So the musical was great, but also wonderful was having that time alone with my husband. I kept feeling like my hands should be busy doing something, or that someone needed me to make food. It was so nice to sit still.


Whenever we go out, I revel in how much we have in common, how much we enjoy doing things together. We enjoy parenting together too, but it sure is nice to have the chance to finish a conversation. It's also nice to wear my high heeled boots and leave the diaper bag in the car.


I'm not used to late nights anymore! I had to take a nap with Goose this afternoon, which felt great and I should do it more often.


I hope your Sunday included a nap too!



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Not Pregnant

So, I have an IUD, my husband and I aren't trying to have a baby, and in fact, we are most likely done having babies. I wouldn't decide to have babies two years apart anyway. On any ordinary day, I walk around not pregnant, knowing I'm not pregnant, and feeling perfectly content with that fact.


So why does one negative pregnancy test put me in a pensive, melancholy mood?


I'd been having some possible pregnancy symptoms for about 2 weeks, so I thought I should test just in case. I fully expected the test to be negative. But there was a chance it would be positive. When it was indeed negative, I felt relief (because I'm a worrier and now I wouldn't have to worry about how to fit two babies in my bed, how to fit three kids in my car, how to fit diapers from two babies into my smallish diaper pail...hmmm, it turns out that the main worry is one of fitting.) and I also felt sad. Because, well, do you know me? I love BABIES! And CHILDREN!


But a day has passed since then, and the kids aren't giving me a moment to even make coffee for myself and the laundry has piled up, and I'm feeling okay about it.


We are having a nice morning around here. The sun is out, but it's cool. Bee is at kindergarten, and when I left him he was painting a picture of a pizza. Goose is playing with her dada, who gets to go in to work late today.


I'll leave you with a picture of Bee hiking with his friend last weekend.




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Today Is For Rest

Lots happening around here, but nothing big. Just many little things keeping us busy and full. Saturday we had family over, and we talked and went to a park and then out to dinner at a new restaurant. I don't recommend the restaurant though, the wait took twice as long as they said it would, and the food was mediocre. The company was great though! My sister is so good with Bee. She really makes him feel special. My mom was having some hip pain but still managed to get down and play with the kids. At the park, Goose asked to swing, and enjoyed it for the first time ever. Usually she gets in and panics and then wants out before the first push. But we put her in, and then put my 7 month old niece in the other side of the swing, so that they were back to back. I think that helped them both feel secure. My mom took a picture, if I get it I will post it.


Sunday we went hiking in the woods with some friends, and then had a picnic. Picnics, as you probably know, are just about my favorite thing ever. We stopped at an orchard and bought the kids some candy sticks, which turned out to be so soft from age they were chewy. Candy doesn't spoil though, does it?


Yesterday while Bee was at school I ran around like a crazy woman trying to get this house in order. Then I picked him up, and we drove to my dad's to harvest for the third time this season. The soybeans are done, and they have moved on to corn. Bee spent the entire day in the combine with my dad's brother, while Goose and I stayed with dad and manned the dump truck. I even drove the dump truck across the field, which is no small feat. It's big, not a semi truck, but almost that big. I let Goose steer.


It was so nice having my dad mostly to myself all those hours. You all know I love having Bee around, but he requires a lot of my attention. I find that I usually have one ear on him and one ear on the conversation, which leaves me feeling like I'm doing neither one well. Goose was there, but since she doesn't talk a whole lot yet, she didn't interrupt much. She called the combine a momine and the tractor a dacko.


Today is Tuesday, and that is one of the days my guy takes Bee to work for an hour and then drops him off at school. Which means I have 4 hours until I go pick him up. So I will rest while Goose plays nearby. Then I will bring Bee home and we will all rest together. I'm not baking, I'm not cleaning, I'm not going anywhere.


Well, maybe a walk around the block.


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