Lest one think that I whinge for the sake of whinging (isn't that a fabulous word? Much more accurate than "whine", especially after you read the definition here), I am trying to restructure my life to resemble what I think it should, or at least closer than it does. This has required a lot of re-prioritizing and soul-searching on mine and Sweetie's parts, and we've made some decisions.
I'm not going back to work after this school year.
I know that this seems a little silly, especially since my baby, Tinkerbell, will be in 7th grade next year and Kitty Boy will be a junior. There is, however, still much for me to do here at home. As with most people, or so I assume, by the time I get home from work the very last thing I want to be is productive. For some reason, this year has been much harder on me than others. I feel nearly completely emotionally and physically drained at 3:20 when the school bell rings. I don't want to hear one more child's complaints or requests, which does become a bit of a problem with three children still living at home. And while I genuinely adore my fellow "soldiers in the trench," I don't feel that I make much of an impact on the students, particularly the way things are structured this year. And as I have often said, you can give your heart and soul to your job, and your job won't ever love you back.
But your family will.
I do hear people talk about how being "at home" is thankless, and that they don't get the praise and feedback that those of us who work do. I guess if I were the type of person who were exceptionally competent at being a homemaker, I might feel a bit taken for granted if my level of extreme excellence wasn't acknowledged now and again.
I'm not that girl, let's just say that much.
My family would be so stunned and appreciative if we could actually eat at a cleaned off table now and again, I think that could keep me going for awhile. Add in clean clothes, ironed shirts, and a little bit of weeding, and Houston, we've got lift-off.
I've never stayed home alone without kids on a long-term basis (the odd sick day aside). I worked until Drummer Boy was born, and as soon as Tinkerbell started first grade, I went back to work. I do worry about being lonely. I worry about having nothing to show for my time. I worry that I might be bored. I'll have to deal with those as I come to them. Thank goodness for a pesky puppy--I'll spend so much time shooing her off the cats the time will fly by.
But today Kitty Boy was sick and having trouble breathing. I took the day off because I was nervous about leaving him alone like that. When I woke Elvira up for her college classes, she started throwing up and has been sick all day. I was able to supply jello, ice water, blankets, heating pads, and just plain "Mom." That's a pretty awesome feeling, and I didn't make a dime off of it.
So a little less than three months from now I'll be officially embarking on a much more budget-conscious, solitary, but hopefully more fulfilling life.
Oh, and I'll be writing more, too.
Thursday, March 1, 2012
Saturday, December 10, 2011
Dear Dad,
Dear Dad,
Well, a year ago today you died. Technically, it's tomorrow. But it was a Saturday afternoon, so I think I'll always think of it then. Mom and I were talking the other night about you, wondering what you were up to. She wondered if you were teaching or learning something. She got a little sad, I think, so I suggested that you were probably caught up in heavenly bureaucracy and had been standing in line all this time waiting to get your paperwork processed. She thought it was an appalling idea, but laughed anyway. Mission accomplished.
Lots going on with us. Travis is doing well, but I've gone back to school "just in case." I'm working on my pre-req's for nursing, but there's a pretty good chance I won't even get in the program, so I'm thinking of back-up ideas. Science and math aren't my strong points, as you well know. Chris is trying to figure out what he wants to do when he finishes school. We're trying to talk him into doing a Study Abroad in Berlin/Vienna next summer. I think he'd love it. Ellie graduated from high school and got into BYU! She's just starting her first finals week. She's majoring in Asian Studies, and next semester she'll take Chinese and Japanese. Crazy, I know, but she says she can do it. Hmm... Nate is six feet tall now--getting close to you! He's the only one with feet big enough to wear your shoes, and he wears your cowboy boots all the time. He thinks you're very cool (which of course, you are!). Maddie is in 6th grade now. She won an art contest at school last month, and is doing the district gifted writing program again this year. She got braces on in January, and she doesn't look little anymore.
I was a complete slacker this year in the yard. I didn't pick a single currant. Nate picked a bunch, but I didn't do anything with them and had to throw them out. We had to get rid of our demon puppy after he kept on attacking Chris. It was really sad, but Chris was here first, after all. And he attacked lots of the kids' friends, too, so it was more than just poor Chris. He was really hard on the yard, though, so we have some major work to do back there. Travis got the bathroom done!! We finally have two baths, and the new one has a granite counter. I feel very spoiled, and now I want it everywhere. The housing market stinks, and our house lost a lot of value. Looks like we'll be staying put for awhile, but you always tell me to do that. I don't know why you like this tiny house so much, but you have a good real estate track record, so I guess I'd better listen.
So much going on in the world. Arab Spring, Occupy, GOP race for next year... Every single day I think of something I just want to call and talk to you about. I'd love to get your thoughts on it all. I'm sure you have much more interesting things to think about, but still...
Well, I'd better get back to studying. I miss you tons and love you lots. Try to visit me sometime.
XOXOXO
Love,
Di
Well, a year ago today you died. Technically, it's tomorrow. But it was a Saturday afternoon, so I think I'll always think of it then. Mom and I were talking the other night about you, wondering what you were up to. She wondered if you were teaching or learning something. She got a little sad, I think, so I suggested that you were probably caught up in heavenly bureaucracy and had been standing in line all this time waiting to get your paperwork processed. She thought it was an appalling idea, but laughed anyway. Mission accomplished.
Lots going on with us. Travis is doing well, but I've gone back to school "just in case." I'm working on my pre-req's for nursing, but there's a pretty good chance I won't even get in the program, so I'm thinking of back-up ideas. Science and math aren't my strong points, as you well know. Chris is trying to figure out what he wants to do when he finishes school. We're trying to talk him into doing a Study Abroad in Berlin/Vienna next summer. I think he'd love it. Ellie graduated from high school and got into BYU! She's just starting her first finals week. She's majoring in Asian Studies, and next semester she'll take Chinese and Japanese. Crazy, I know, but she says she can do it. Hmm... Nate is six feet tall now--getting close to you! He's the only one with feet big enough to wear your shoes, and he wears your cowboy boots all the time. He thinks you're very cool (which of course, you are!). Maddie is in 6th grade now. She won an art contest at school last month, and is doing the district gifted writing program again this year. She got braces on in January, and she doesn't look little anymore.
I was a complete slacker this year in the yard. I didn't pick a single currant. Nate picked a bunch, but I didn't do anything with them and had to throw them out. We had to get rid of our demon puppy after he kept on attacking Chris. It was really sad, but Chris was here first, after all. And he attacked lots of the kids' friends, too, so it was more than just poor Chris. He was really hard on the yard, though, so we have some major work to do back there. Travis got the bathroom done!! We finally have two baths, and the new one has a granite counter. I feel very spoiled, and now I want it everywhere. The housing market stinks, and our house lost a lot of value. Looks like we'll be staying put for awhile, but you always tell me to do that. I don't know why you like this tiny house so much, but you have a good real estate track record, so I guess I'd better listen.
So much going on in the world. Arab Spring, Occupy, GOP race for next year... Every single day I think of something I just want to call and talk to you about. I'd love to get your thoughts on it all. I'm sure you have much more interesting things to think about, but still...
Well, I'd better get back to studying. I miss you tons and love you lots. Try to visit me sometime.
XOXOXO
Love,
Di
Saturday, October 1, 2011
A Life of Less Than
I'm back to my old tricks. Back in school--again--with nursing as a goal--again. Taking Math 110--again. Worried about a certain child of mine--again.
I find myself in this cyclical life, "Groundhog Day" without the laughs. Every week is a repeat of the last, but with greater intensity and urgency. Three days a week the kids do martial arts, two nights a week I go to class, every night I do homework for three or more hours, every day I work nearly 7 hours at my paid job, every night I work at my unpaid job. As any mom knows, the unpaid stuff is the most important, and it's getting the least attention at the moment. Sad kids (one in particular) that would love to talk but I don't have time. I kiss their heads on my way out the door and try to get up enough energy to cook them dinner before bedtime.
I want to say that I'm doing all of this for them. Partly I am. I don't want to show up on their doorsteps with my bags in hand and try to explain why Mommy couldn't get her act together and be self-supporting in her 70s and 80s. I do worry about that, I'm not going to lie, but mostly it's for me. I'm terrified of being poor. I know, blessed are the poor and all that, but there is no glory at all in being old and poor. None. I've seen it up close and personal, and I will move heaven and earth before I end up like that. So I'm pursuing a career that I can work at until I physically can't work anymore, and hope that's enough.
My trade-off for this ambition, misplaced as it may be, is that I'm living a life I never imagined. Everything about it is shabby. I look like death, with dark circles under my eyes on top of all the other flaws. My clothes are Wal Mart special, and I wear the same stupid pair of jeans every day until one morning they will wear out and I'll head back out to the Evil Empire and buy another pair for under $20. My house is a wreck, there are holes in the furniture, my children are DVD/internet addicts, and spiders are building webs in the corners. My mother is coming this week, and I know she'll be so sad for me, which I can't handle. I'm the toughest person I know, apart from her, and the last thing I need is pity, thank you very much. But isn't that what I'm asking for? Pity would cover a multitude of sins. Oh, poor thing. She just can't do it all, can she? That's not who I want to be. I do want to do it all. Every last bit of it, and better than 'well'.
My mom wants to know what she can do to help. What do I tell her? Please iron these shirts? The fridge is a little scary. The pantry needs to be organized. The walls are a forensic scientist's dream-come-true. It's not the obvious things I need help with. It's this internal struggle that I've faced since I was first conscious of it. I want this "life" that I grew up with, that I was conditioned to want. It's a beautiful picture, and I've lived it as a reality. But for the life of me I can't create it. The 'how' of it all eludes me. It's a secret code I haven't yet cracked, that illiterate women for centuries have been able to figure out. But I can't give up the picture. This happy family sitting down to dinner when it's still light outside, with money in the bank and smiles on the kids' faces. Children who know they are loved and are well on their way to creating their own beautiful lives. Okay, my kids do know they're loved, but the rest of the picture is out of focus with curled edges. My children suffer. My marriage suffers, and I feel lost.
So I keep working at everything that won't fix the problem. Because I already have a degree, and we both have jobs, and we're both artistic enough that we are capable of creating beauty. So in desperation I'm doing what I know how to do. Work harder. Sleep less. Worry more. Run faster.
What would really fix it? That's what I want my mom to help me with, because she figured it out decades ago.
I find myself in this cyclical life, "Groundhog Day" without the laughs. Every week is a repeat of the last, but with greater intensity and urgency. Three days a week the kids do martial arts, two nights a week I go to class, every night I do homework for three or more hours, every day I work nearly 7 hours at my paid job, every night I work at my unpaid job. As any mom knows, the unpaid stuff is the most important, and it's getting the least attention at the moment. Sad kids (one in particular) that would love to talk but I don't have time. I kiss their heads on my way out the door and try to get up enough energy to cook them dinner before bedtime.
I want to say that I'm doing all of this for them. Partly I am. I don't want to show up on their doorsteps with my bags in hand and try to explain why Mommy couldn't get her act together and be self-supporting in her 70s and 80s. I do worry about that, I'm not going to lie, but mostly it's for me. I'm terrified of being poor. I know, blessed are the poor and all that, but there is no glory at all in being old and poor. None. I've seen it up close and personal, and I will move heaven and earth before I end up like that. So I'm pursuing a career that I can work at until I physically can't work anymore, and hope that's enough.
My trade-off for this ambition, misplaced as it may be, is that I'm living a life I never imagined. Everything about it is shabby. I look like death, with dark circles under my eyes on top of all the other flaws. My clothes are Wal Mart special, and I wear the same stupid pair of jeans every day until one morning they will wear out and I'll head back out to the Evil Empire and buy another pair for under $20. My house is a wreck, there are holes in the furniture, my children are DVD/internet addicts, and spiders are building webs in the corners. My mother is coming this week, and I know she'll be so sad for me, which I can't handle. I'm the toughest person I know, apart from her, and the last thing I need is pity, thank you very much. But isn't that what I'm asking for? Pity would cover a multitude of sins. Oh, poor thing. She just can't do it all, can she? That's not who I want to be. I do want to do it all. Every last bit of it, and better than 'well'.
My mom wants to know what she can do to help. What do I tell her? Please iron these shirts? The fridge is a little scary. The pantry needs to be organized. The walls are a forensic scientist's dream-come-true. It's not the obvious things I need help with. It's this internal struggle that I've faced since I was first conscious of it. I want this "life" that I grew up with, that I was conditioned to want. It's a beautiful picture, and I've lived it as a reality. But for the life of me I can't create it. The 'how' of it all eludes me. It's a secret code I haven't yet cracked, that illiterate women for centuries have been able to figure out. But I can't give up the picture. This happy family sitting down to dinner when it's still light outside, with money in the bank and smiles on the kids' faces. Children who know they are loved and are well on their way to creating their own beautiful lives. Okay, my kids do know they're loved, but the rest of the picture is out of focus with curled edges. My children suffer. My marriage suffers, and I feel lost.
So I keep working at everything that won't fix the problem. Because I already have a degree, and we both have jobs, and we're both artistic enough that we are capable of creating beauty. So in desperation I'm doing what I know how to do. Work harder. Sleep less. Worry more. Run faster.
What would really fix it? That's what I want my mom to help me with, because she figured it out decades ago.
Thursday, June 2, 2011
Wednesday, June 1, 2011
Grilled Chicken & Pasta Salad
Grilled Chicken and Pasta Salad
For Salad:
1 small pkg. spinach
1 8 oz. pkg. bowtie pasta--cooked, drained, and cooled
2-4 T sesame seeds
1/2 c. sunflower seeds
1 can sliced water chestnuts
3 chicken breasts--seasoned heavily with lemon pepper seasoning, grilled (or baked), and cut into bite-size pieces
1 c. bean sprouts
mix well all ingredients and toss with dressing just before serving.
Dressing:
1/2 c. oil
1/2 c. sugar
1 tsp. salt
1 tsp. sesame seeds
3 T. soy sauce
2 T. seasoned rice vinegar
1/2 tsp. sesame seed oil (optional)
1 tsp. grated fresh garlic
Stir ingredients well to dissolve sugar, store in refrigerator. Let dressing warm to room temperature before tossing into salad.
This has a real Asian taste to it. You could add strawberries or craisins to it, or even chow mein noodles for a crunchy texture. I added more spinach and pasta and it made a huge bowl. There was plenty of dressing to cover it all. So good, and very pretty. And homemade breadsticks weren't so bad, either!
Monday, May 30, 2011
Day 1 of Summer Vacation
I have been looking forward to this day for many, many months. At last, work is done for a few months, or close to it anyway.
When I was a kid, we were so exhausted at the end of summer break we couldn't wait to get back to school. Everything was cleaned, sorted, purged, arranged, gone through, and any other thing we could do to it. Each drawer, closet, shelf, book, and knick knack was re-evaluated for its' usefulness and sentimental value. If it didn't make the grade, out it went. My mom was absolutely ruthless about it, which she really had to be. We moved nearly every summer, and we had a certain weight limit that our household goods had to fit within or we would have to pay the Army extra to move it. That would never happen as long as my mom and dad had a say in it, so we made that limit no matter what. Honestly, there are very few things I even remember getting rid of, so I'm hardly emotionally scarred by the experience.
In fact, I have often wished that we had a big move coming up. As overwhelming as it would be, knowing you have a concrete number to make makes everything look much less attractive to you. I've lived in this house for over 16 years now, and boy does it show. We have so much stuff, and it completely drowns me. I get so paralyzed at the sight of it all that I don't know where to start.
Since becoming a mom, summer vacation has typically become a blur as soon as the kids have gone back to school. I feel like I have absolutely nothing to show for it, and rather than having all sorts of educational enrichment activities, they're sticking straws in their noses or something equally disgusting. So in order to feel less like a complete failure in life, I'm going to chronicle our summer vacation. Boring for you, dear reader, but most entertaining for me.
Here goes:
On the first day of summer, the weather gave to me
A day full of pouring down rain.
So we went off to do errands, which needed to be done:
One trip to Petsmart, one new paper towel holder,
And a salad chopper that makes Kitty Boy smile.
Then off to Best Buy, to look at X-Boxes which I'll regret.
Lots of 'M' rated games, way too much money,
but Sweetie went and made a deal with the boy.
Thread at the fabric store, and a pattern for Tinkerbell,
A summer full of sewing for me.
Okay, that's enough of that. Then Kitty Boy made an amazing salad bar for us, I went through a few more papers and threw some out, I'm about to take the dog for a walk, and I've only played two levels of Wedding Dash today. Oh, and Tinkerbell played with Kylie all day long, and I took the kids to Macey's for frozen yoghurt. I also found the fabric that goes with the pattern I bought and am going to preshrink it tonight.
I talked to Mom and Suzy, but forgot to call Suzy back. Will do that during our walk. No reading yet, or pulling weeds. I'll try to remedy both.
Okay, I don't feel like a total slacker today. I got a fair amount done (plus dishes and the usual "stuff."). But I want each day to stretch out as long as it can. I'm in no hurry for it to end yet.
When I was a kid, we were so exhausted at the end of summer break we couldn't wait to get back to school. Everything was cleaned, sorted, purged, arranged, gone through, and any other thing we could do to it. Each drawer, closet, shelf, book, and knick knack was re-evaluated for its' usefulness and sentimental value. If it didn't make the grade, out it went. My mom was absolutely ruthless about it, which she really had to be. We moved nearly every summer, and we had a certain weight limit that our household goods had to fit within or we would have to pay the Army extra to move it. That would never happen as long as my mom and dad had a say in it, so we made that limit no matter what. Honestly, there are very few things I even remember getting rid of, so I'm hardly emotionally scarred by the experience.
In fact, I have often wished that we had a big move coming up. As overwhelming as it would be, knowing you have a concrete number to make makes everything look much less attractive to you. I've lived in this house for over 16 years now, and boy does it show. We have so much stuff, and it completely drowns me. I get so paralyzed at the sight of it all that I don't know where to start.
Since becoming a mom, summer vacation has typically become a blur as soon as the kids have gone back to school. I feel like I have absolutely nothing to show for it, and rather than having all sorts of educational enrichment activities, they're sticking straws in their noses or something equally disgusting. So in order to feel less like a complete failure in life, I'm going to chronicle our summer vacation. Boring for you, dear reader, but most entertaining for me.
Here goes:
On the first day of summer, the weather gave to me
A day full of pouring down rain.
So we went off to do errands, which needed to be done:
One trip to Petsmart, one new paper towel holder,
And a salad chopper that makes Kitty Boy smile.
Then off to Best Buy, to look at X-Boxes which I'll regret.
Lots of 'M' rated games, way too much money,
but Sweetie went and made a deal with the boy.
Thread at the fabric store, and a pattern for Tinkerbell,
A summer full of sewing for me.
Okay, that's enough of that. Then Kitty Boy made an amazing salad bar for us, I went through a few more papers and threw some out, I'm about to take the dog for a walk, and I've only played two levels of Wedding Dash today. Oh, and Tinkerbell played with Kylie all day long, and I took the kids to Macey's for frozen yoghurt. I also found the fabric that goes with the pattern I bought and am going to preshrink it tonight.
I talked to Mom and Suzy, but forgot to call Suzy back. Will do that during our walk. No reading yet, or pulling weeds. I'll try to remedy both.
Okay, I don't feel like a total slacker today. I got a fair amount done (plus dishes and the usual "stuff."). But I want each day to stretch out as long as it can. I'm in no hurry for it to end yet.
Thursday, April 14, 2011
Dear Ben (and Jerry)
Dear Ben and Jerry,
I watched Jimmy Fallon awhile back when you unveiled your new flavor in his honor. You were very funny (and you both look great--congrats on the weight loss!), and I could tell Jimmy was really excited about having his very own ice cream. I happen to love your ice cream, though perhaps a bit too much, if you know what I mean. But in my quest to acquire a healthier lifestyle, I decided to forgo dairy products. After that show, all my vegan hankerings went completely out the window. Vanilla ice cream, potato chips, chocolate, caramel! Heart attack in a carton, more likely, but impossible to resist.
But I've been thwarted at every turn! I've searched store after store in our lovely state of Utah, but to no avail. Then I found your Flavor Locator online. At last! I would know where to look! I believe your little gadget has a glitch in it, as it tells me it's not available in Utah yet! My sister in St. Louis can find it at Dierberg's, for crying out loud! (You can thank me later, Em). We're the #1 Ice Cream Consumption state in the country here in Utah!
I guess begging won't do much to speed things up. Please note, however, that a very devoted family is anxiously awaiting Late Night Snack.
Yours Sincerely,
Diane
UPDATE:
Well, their precious little Flavor Locator is defective! On a whim, I checked for it at Macey's here in Provo, and there it was! So excited I actually screamed (not too loud, but my kids were amused). Couldn't wait to try it, expecting something amazing, and.... it was pretty good, but not earth-shattering. I like Stephen Colbert's Americone Dream better. Sorry Jimmy!
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