What am I waiting for? There is nothing new in my inbox. I click my Google reader - nothing new there. I check Facebook - nothing new there. Sane and intelligent people are gone to bed. There is nothing in the news worth staying up for. My accounts are all updated. There are plenty of more productive things I could be doing, SLEEPING, for one. Or clearing off the table. Or studying scriptures (although I did just prepare a lesson to sub in Primary tomorrow).
Why am I here? What is it that is so compelling about a glowing screen? Am I the only one who feels this? What do you do to tear yourself away? How do you self-regulate on the computer?
I'm going to turn on my cleaning music (low volume, I know it's late) and work on my dishes. I will feel better.
Saturday, November 07, 2009
Thursday, November 05, 2009
Defecation celebration
*TMI Warning: Read at your own risk. This post will discuss bodily functions!
It's 8:30 pm. I'm sitting on the floor outside my bathroom, reading the grocery ads and taking notes on the sales, while trying to encourage my child to empty the contents of his bowels.
"I won't!" he declares. He has already been sitting on the porcelain throne for at least half an hour. Mr. M has confessed his fear to me that this child has more willpower than the rest of us.
"You are going to sit on this toilet all night until the poop comes out," I insist, wincing inwardly. If he sits on the toilet all night, it means that Mr. M and I will have to trade off sitting on the floor monitoring his bowel movements, or lack thereof.
"I'm holding it in!" he crows.
I counter, "Don't you know that poop is poison? All the stuff your body wants to get rid of goes in poop and you need to get it out. If you hold it in, it will hurt more tomorrow. PLUS, if you go poop tonight, you can sleep in underwear" (not the pull-ups Mr. M brought home from the store).
10 minutes pass. He pushes perfunctorily, once and again. Nothing.
Mr. M pops out of the boys' bedroom, interrupting his story to Ethan, holding a pair of tighty-whities. "If you go poop right now, you can sleep in these AND I'll tell you a long story AND you can have an ice cream cone!" He disappears back into the bedroom.
When the clock reads 8:45 pm, I say to my son, "If you push out the poop right now, you still have time to get a story from Dad before he leaves to go set up chairs at the church. And you get icecream. And you can sleep in underwear."
He weighs his options. He starts to push! His face turns red, his body contorts, and....
TRIUMPH!
"Mr. M, it's time for a poop inspect!" I call gleefully.
The deed is done! The bottom is wiped. Congratulations and general joviality all around. Ice cream, underwear, and a story for the boy who pooped.
It's 8:30 pm. I'm sitting on the floor outside my bathroom, reading the grocery ads and taking notes on the sales, while trying to encourage my child to empty the contents of his bowels.
"I won't!" he declares. He has already been sitting on the porcelain throne for at least half an hour. Mr. M has confessed his fear to me that this child has more willpower than the rest of us.
"You are going to sit on this toilet all night until the poop comes out," I insist, wincing inwardly. If he sits on the toilet all night, it means that Mr. M and I will have to trade off sitting on the floor monitoring his bowel movements, or lack thereof.
"I'm holding it in!" he crows.
I counter, "Don't you know that poop is poison? All the stuff your body wants to get rid of goes in poop and you need to get it out. If you hold it in, it will hurt more tomorrow. PLUS, if you go poop tonight, you can sleep in underwear" (not the pull-ups Mr. M brought home from the store).
10 minutes pass. He pushes perfunctorily, once and again. Nothing.
Mr. M pops out of the boys' bedroom, interrupting his story to Ethan, holding a pair of tighty-whities. "If you go poop right now, you can sleep in these AND I'll tell you a long story AND you can have an ice cream cone!" He disappears back into the bedroom.
When the clock reads 8:45 pm, I say to my son, "If you push out the poop right now, you still have time to get a story from Dad before he leaves to go set up chairs at the church. And you get icecream. And you can sleep in underwear."
He weighs his options. He starts to push! His face turns red, his body contorts, and....
TRIUMPH!
"Mr. M, it's time for a poop inspect!" I call gleefully.
The deed is done! The bottom is wiped. Congratulations and general joviality all around. Ice cream, underwear, and a story for the boy who pooped.
Monday, October 26, 2009
Great news
Just found out last night that Mr. M's job has been extended. It was supposed to end this Friday, but it will now run through 12/24 for 10 hours per week! This is great news for two reasons: first, it means we will still have a little money coming in, and second, he will still have his office to go to and work on his research and writing. We are very happy.
Scott, our self-proclaimed manhole scientist, is obsessed with writing notes. He writes sweet variations on a theme of "I love you" and gives me folded up papers about 5x per day. He will occasionally write one to Dad or Ethan. My favorite, from last weekend, was a note written to Harvey, the Super Sewer-Surfing Pig (a fictitious character from the boys' bedtime stories). The note said, "Oink oink oink", which translated into English means, "Harvey, I love you." Scott rolled it up, put a rubber band around it, and left it in Harvey's mailbox, which can be located on the back of the toilet in the boys' bathroom.
I'm off to finish my violin teacher training with Cathy Lee. My delightful husband is in charge of the boys today, getting them ready for school (which he usually does anyway), and making sure they get there and get home at the right times. All on foot. Love you, Mr. M!
Scott, our self-proclaimed manhole scientist, is obsessed with writing notes. He writes sweet variations on a theme of "I love you" and gives me folded up papers about 5x per day. He will occasionally write one to Dad or Ethan. My favorite, from last weekend, was a note written to Harvey, the Super Sewer-Surfing Pig (a fictitious character from the boys' bedtime stories). The note said, "Oink oink oink", which translated into English means, "Harvey, I love you." Scott rolled it up, put a rubber band around it, and left it in Harvey's mailbox, which can be located on the back of the toilet in the boys' bathroom.
I'm off to finish my violin teacher training with Cathy Lee. My delightful husband is in charge of the boys today, getting them ready for school (which he usually does anyway), and making sure they get there and get home at the right times. All on foot. Love you, Mr. M!
Tuesday, September 15, 2009
My report
It might have been a crazy day: a broken air conditioner, leaking solar panels on the roof which dripped down into the apartment below, a jammed garbage disposal, a tenant calling to complain about ants in her parking space (!), and a plumber coming to work on rusty pipes.
However, the day started nicely at the boys' school and continued very well. I was helping Booster Club at the new family breakfast and was treated to bagels and pulp-free orange juice. Scott got to play on the kindergarten yard for over an hour with kids his age and was extremely happy. He has no fear and makes friends naturally. When we go to the school, he tells me, "Mom, there are no strangers there." He loves wearing his assistant manager badge when we go out so everyone will know his name.
Back at home, all the vendors who came to deal with the problems listed above came during their scheduled windows and none of them overlapped. Scott read me a silly story that made us both laugh; I got in a quick nap before running to the bank, picking up Ethan from school, and vacuuming. The boys played nicely on Mr. M's computer during my one violin lesson of the day, and I got the pork chops in the oven before the boys' last swimming lesson with Tyler.
Ethan's freestyle is much-improved; his arms are consistently coming out of the water and now he just needs to master the headmotion of breathing. Scott had a momentous lesson today, swimming 3/4 of the length of the pool freestyle (5 strokes, 1 breath, 5 strokes) and diving to retrieve a torpedo from 7 feet. Both boys cited swimming lesson as their favorite part of today.
Ethan ate everything at dinner (!) and cut his pork chop with a knife, rather than spearing it whole on his fork and biting off chunks. He even said nice things about the food. Scott declined a pork chop, but ate lots of mashed potatoes studded with peas. They listened to our after-dinner Book of Mormon chapter without wiggling or jumping on each other and then read quietly on the couch from the same Asterix and Obelix book. Ethan also practiced standing on his head. His record, which he just set tonight, is 1m 27 seconds. (My record headstand from my teenage years was 6m 32 seconds. Is he my son or what?!)
Tonight after the bedtime ritual, I'll do some tidying and probably read some more of Beethoven's Hair and Blessings of a Skinned Knee: Using Jewish Teachings to Raise Self-Reliant Children. Last night I finished Wild Swans, a very intense book about 3 generations of Chinese women from the not-so-distant past. Or maybe I'll just go to bed. I'm sleepy.
However, the day started nicely at the boys' school and continued very well. I was helping Booster Club at the new family breakfast and was treated to bagels and pulp-free orange juice. Scott got to play on the kindergarten yard for over an hour with kids his age and was extremely happy. He has no fear and makes friends naturally. When we go to the school, he tells me, "Mom, there are no strangers there." He loves wearing his assistant manager badge when we go out so everyone will know his name.
Back at home, all the vendors who came to deal with the problems listed above came during their scheduled windows and none of them overlapped. Scott read me a silly story that made us both laugh; I got in a quick nap before running to the bank, picking up Ethan from school, and vacuuming. The boys played nicely on Mr. M's computer during my one violin lesson of the day, and I got the pork chops in the oven before the boys' last swimming lesson with Tyler.
Ethan's freestyle is much-improved; his arms are consistently coming out of the water and now he just needs to master the headmotion of breathing. Scott had a momentous lesson today, swimming 3/4 of the length of the pool freestyle (5 strokes, 1 breath, 5 strokes) and diving to retrieve a torpedo from 7 feet. Both boys cited swimming lesson as their favorite part of today.
Ethan ate everything at dinner (!) and cut his pork chop with a knife, rather than spearing it whole on his fork and biting off chunks. He even said nice things about the food. Scott declined a pork chop, but ate lots of mashed potatoes studded with peas. They listened to our after-dinner Book of Mormon chapter without wiggling or jumping on each other and then read quietly on the couch from the same Asterix and Obelix book. Ethan also practiced standing on his head. His record, which he just set tonight, is 1m 27 seconds. (My record headstand from my teenage years was 6m 32 seconds. Is he my son or what?!)
Tonight after the bedtime ritual, I'll do some tidying and probably read some more of Beethoven's Hair and Blessings of a Skinned Knee: Using Jewish Teachings to Raise Self-Reliant Children. Last night I finished Wild Swans, a very intense book about 3 generations of Chinese women from the not-so-distant past. Or maybe I'll just go to bed. I'm sleepy.
Monday, September 14, 2009
My little man and random thoughts
Scott has become the man of the house for much of the day. This morning we took out the recycling and stopped at his favorite climbing tree on the corner to test out his new sneakers. (Thanks, Grandma Gail!) Halfway up the tree, he pronounced that the shoes were "great and effective". He says he will teach Elizabeth how to climb trees and will keep pebbles away from her because they are a choking hazard.
On our walk around the block, he collected 4 twigs and a pebble. "This is manhole territory," he declared. On top of each manhole, he dropped a twig, presumably to identify it as a manhole. At the last manhole, he dropped a twig and the pebble. As we turned the corner, he announced, "This is tree territory now," then spying a manhole, "but we are still in manhole territory, too."
I love this guy!
I love our peaceful days now that Ethan is back at school. Ethan is happy, too, although he says he hasn't learned anything yet. Last Friday, he received his first homework packet, which he is supposed to turn in this Friday. He did it all in about half an hour on Friday and Saturday, even the 3 extra credit pages. I hope there is something there that will challenge him. He complained on the first day that there was no hard math, but that he hoped there would be hard math on the state tests that happen in the spring. I told him to give it some time, that they were probably still reviewing and getting going. I suspect that academically, he'd be fine in 2nd or 3rd grade, but physically and socially, he fits in just right with the 1st graders. I imagine we'll be dealing with similar issues with Scott once he starts his pre-K class in a few days. He is reading me silly poems right now from a book called Laugh-eteria.
On the topic of Ethan, I'm trying to be a "strength detective" and really notice the good things he does. I tend to be critical of him, and I'm not sure why. I left him a note on the breakfast table this morning telling him how much I appreciated the quick and quiet way he went to bed last night. (I also included a scripture for him to work on memorizing; he loves to memorize!) The usual scenario is that he gets out of bed about 5 times, and there is usually a lot of giggling and roughhousing that goes on with Scott before they settle down. Last night, no giggling, no getting out of bed, just straight to sleep after my lullaby. They must have been worn out from playing with the friends we visited yesterday afternoon.
Elizabeth must be getting uncomfortable because she is VERY squirmy. Her motions are visible and my belly sticks out in strange ways as she moves around. 2 more months. I do not remember feeling so ready to give birth this far ahead of a due date. However, I think I've already topped my maximum weight with Ethan and I'm close to reaching the maximum weight with Scott. That may have something to do with it. Sigh.
On our walk around the block, he collected 4 twigs and a pebble. "This is manhole territory," he declared. On top of each manhole, he dropped a twig, presumably to identify it as a manhole. At the last manhole, he dropped a twig and the pebble. As we turned the corner, he announced, "This is tree territory now," then spying a manhole, "but we are still in manhole territory, too."
I love this guy!
I love our peaceful days now that Ethan is back at school. Ethan is happy, too, although he says he hasn't learned anything yet. Last Friday, he received his first homework packet, which he is supposed to turn in this Friday. He did it all in about half an hour on Friday and Saturday, even the 3 extra credit pages. I hope there is something there that will challenge him. He complained on the first day that there was no hard math, but that he hoped there would be hard math on the state tests that happen in the spring. I told him to give it some time, that they were probably still reviewing and getting going. I suspect that academically, he'd be fine in 2nd or 3rd grade, but physically and socially, he fits in just right with the 1st graders. I imagine we'll be dealing with similar issues with Scott once he starts his pre-K class in a few days. He is reading me silly poems right now from a book called Laugh-eteria.
On the topic of Ethan, I'm trying to be a "strength detective" and really notice the good things he does. I tend to be critical of him, and I'm not sure why. I left him a note on the breakfast table this morning telling him how much I appreciated the quick and quiet way he went to bed last night. (I also included a scripture for him to work on memorizing; he loves to memorize!) The usual scenario is that he gets out of bed about 5 times, and there is usually a lot of giggling and roughhousing that goes on with Scott before they settle down. Last night, no giggling, no getting out of bed, just straight to sleep after my lullaby. They must have been worn out from playing with the friends we visited yesterday afternoon.
Elizabeth must be getting uncomfortable because she is VERY squirmy. Her motions are visible and my belly sticks out in strange ways as she moves around. 2 more months. I do not remember feeling so ready to give birth this far ahead of a due date. However, I think I've already topped my maximum weight with Ethan and I'm close to reaching the maximum weight with Scott. That may have something to do with it. Sigh.
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