Saturday, June 24, 2006
Hanging with the girls
No, not the E's, but my girlfriends. Last night we went to dinner, one of us learned something new at Krispy Kreme ("You mean they have a drive-thru??")and we shopped a bit at Kohl's. Many laughs were had, in between all the talking, and talking and talking. We just don't do it as often as we should.
Wednesday, June 21, 2006
Visit your local CVS
Confession of rudeness: When the checker started to ask if I wanted to donate I was all geared-up to decline...until I heard it was for Lou Gehrig's. Terrible, huh?
Tuesday, June 20, 2006
White, and getting whiter
We just got back from the pool. As I approached the girls' bedroom to remind them to put their wet clothes in the laundry room I heard,
"How white is it?"
As I entered, there was E2, backside to the mirror, peering over her shoulder to check out her tan lines. I just shook my head in amusement and left to unload the wet stuff I was carrying. As I headed back down the hall though, I heard,
"It will just keep getting whiter and whiter until it explodes!"
I poked my head in the door and said, "Honey, your butt isn't getting whiter. The rest of you is getting darker from being in the sun. Your butt is the same color it always is." She looked surprised.
Where on Earth did that child get the idea that her butt could explode from whiteness?
E3 crashed in the van on the way home. Child is a FISH. Not 'oh, she swims like a fish'. IS. A. FISH. She's crazy, kicking her legs and splashing her arms, and has no fear.
F-man and Grandma came with us. F is more conservative, when compared to E3, but is probably typical for a normal 2yo. He had an unfortunate tussle with his snack bowl as Grandma was changing him into dry pants just before we left and it left him covered in cereal crumbs and raisins. The vultures that are E1, E2, and friend O were swarming the cereal but not bothering to help pick up the raisin spillage. Not to mention, it was causing F to be more anxious about getting his snack. Punks. It took all I had not to throw a couple elbows in there as I got them all to back away.
"How white is it?"
As I entered, there was E2, backside to the mirror, peering over her shoulder to check out her tan lines. I just shook my head in amusement and left to unload the wet stuff I was carrying. As I headed back down the hall though, I heard,
"It will just keep getting whiter and whiter until it explodes!"
I poked my head in the door and said, "Honey, your butt isn't getting whiter. The rest of you is getting darker from being in the sun. Your butt is the same color it always is." She looked surprised.
Where on Earth did that child get the idea that her butt could explode from whiteness?
E3 crashed in the van on the way home. Child is a FISH. Not 'oh, she swims like a fish'. IS. A. FISH. She's crazy, kicking her legs and splashing her arms, and has no fear.
F-man and Grandma came with us. F is more conservative, when compared to E3, but is probably typical for a normal 2yo. He had an unfortunate tussle with his snack bowl as Grandma was changing him into dry pants just before we left and it left him covered in cereal crumbs and raisins. The vultures that are E1, E2, and friend O were swarming the cereal but not bothering to help pick up the raisin spillage. Not to mention, it was causing F to be more anxious about getting his snack. Punks. It took all I had not to throw a couple elbows in there as I got them all to back away.
Thursday, June 15, 2006
Send help!
For some reason, the first two entries down there show comments, but the rest don't. Any ideas there? Emails welcome at nrolves AT yahoo DOT com
Thanks!
[Edit} Of course, THIS post has comments. What's up with that?
Thanks!
[Edit} Of course, THIS post has comments. What's up with that?
Human "Resources"? How about Human "pain in the butt"?
For those of you who are employees only and don't have to hire (or even worse - fire) personnel, let me tell you, you're a pain. Scariest thing the boss can hear is "Hey, got a minute?). Usually means trouble for the boss. Doesn't mean you shouldn't talk to the boss about your troubles, just realize that you've just added a high priority issue to his task list. But that's why he gets the proverbial big bucks.
We're hiring a new draftsman at work and it's my job to sort through applicants and pick one that will do a good job and not drive everyone crazy with whatever strange personal traits they may or may not have. In 12 years of being VP I've gotten it right about 4 times (not counting the awesome hires my cousins turned out to be, but they were all part time). I'm hitting lower than Yadier Molina. Only difference is I don't have the defensive skills to offset it.
If there's a Saint to pray to for making a good hire, let me know. My first hand-picked recruit turned me down because he wants to be, of all things, an architect. Well, good luck with that.
If only my kids were older, I could employ more nepotism and force them to learn Autocad. I'd do it too. Heck, they're lucky the coal mine closed down or they'd be chipping in like I had to at their age. The only difference from my childhood would be the lack of beatings. (Sorry Mom, the truth will come out).
We're hiring a new draftsman at work and it's my job to sort through applicants and pick one that will do a good job and not drive everyone crazy with whatever strange personal traits they may or may not have. In 12 years of being VP I've gotten it right about 4 times (not counting the awesome hires my cousins turned out to be, but they were all part time). I'm hitting lower than Yadier Molina. Only difference is I don't have the defensive skills to offset it.
If there's a Saint to pray to for making a good hire, let me know. My first hand-picked recruit turned me down because he wants to be, of all things, an architect. Well, good luck with that.
If only my kids were older, I could employ more nepotism and force them to learn Autocad. I'd do it too. Heck, they're lucky the coal mine closed down or they'd be chipping in like I had to at their age. The only difference from my childhood would be the lack of beatings. (Sorry Mom, the truth will come out).
Blogging
Way back in the day, when we were parents of one E, we had a website called World Wide Rolves. It was free, provided by our internet service, and we had an easy-peasy program for designing and publishing a website. We posted pictures of E1, and gave updates on her development because we just KNEW that everyone wanted that information. We added links, including a calendar and other things, and we had sound clips added throughout. Scintillating stuff, like E1 babbling at 3.5 months. It was fun stuff, I assure you, but it fell by the wayside as we changed internet providers and such.
I've been blogging for a year now, but this blog is my first public blog. I thought I wouldn't be able to post comments to Kristin's blog without it linking to my private blog, but I've since learned that's wrong. But! Now it means other people can enjoy my wordy goodness, right? Robo is on this blog as well, so he can comment at Kristin's blog. I don't know if he intends to post stuff here as well. AND, we can add pictures!
So, once again, World Wide Rolves is back on the web!
I've been blogging for a year now, but this blog is my first public blog. I thought I wouldn't be able to post comments to Kristin's blog without it linking to my private blog, but I've since learned that's wrong. But! Now it means other people can enjoy my wordy goodness, right? Robo is on this blog as well, so he can comment at Kristin's blog. I don't know if he intends to post stuff here as well. AND, we can add pictures!
So, once again, World Wide Rolves is back on the web!
Accurate
E3 has taken to waking the other two in the morning. She's awake, so they should be as well, right? She calls to them from her bedroom until they respond, or come to her. This morning they were hollering back at her, giggling and calling her Meatball. (No. I don't know.)
I finally called E3 into my room. Upon entering she proclaimed, "My sisters are being silly."
I finally called E3 into my room. Upon entering she proclaimed, "My sisters are being silly."
Tuesday, June 13, 2006
Rumination
There are times while parenting when we find ourselves running into the same brick wall, over and over, with our children's behavior. Sometimes the phase passes before we ever figure out what it's all about...and other times it's not until we figure out what it's all about that the phase finally ends. Or, maybe we think we know what's going on but it doesn't change anything and we just have to ride the wave.
I've been pondering what E2's CONSTANT NEED TO TALK could possibly mean. She's loud, and I admit I often tune her out because to be attentive everysinglemomentoftheday would cause my brain to implode. As it is, I just have bleeding ears by mid-afternoon.
She talks about EVERYTHING, but I think what drives me craziest is that she's always days, weeks, months, or even just hours away from where we are right then.
She's got at least ten ideas on what she'd like to do for her next birthday (in September) and she's been planning it since October.
She's planning on E1 and I helping her shop for her wedding dress.
She thinks we should hike the blue trail the next time we go to Georgia.
She's saving her last piece of gum (from Easter) to chew on our flight to Hawaii in January.
She'd like to have Triscuits and cheese for an after school snack today (it's 9:30am).
She chatters on and on all day, making plans and dreaming up how great it's all going to be...and she's got a memory, so don't think she'll be forgetting any of this any time soon.
It's inspiring, I guess, that she has so many grand plans and ideas. I should see about hiring her a personal assistant, really, someone with superhuman qualities to keep track of all these ideas and help make them happen. But the trouble is, the personal assistant tasks usually fall to her not-so-superhuman mother.
We scarcely get finished eating breakfast and she's plotting an afternoon snack. We just walk into the house after getting groceries and she's telling me what she thinks we should have for lunch, oh and can they have marshmallows for dessert? After lunch she thinks we should... and after Dad gets home... and when is Friday? Is it tomorrow?
All this before I've unloaded one bag of groceries. Before I finish eating lunch she'll be back to adding to the list - and hey, don't forget those marshmallows. She let's me know if I'm slacking by trying to squeeze in something foolish like laundry. She's exhausting. Not in the physical, play hard, kind of way. She exhausts me mentally.
Motherhood, I think even more than Fatherhood, is mentally challenging. There is so much we Mom's have crammed into our brains about what happens, when, where, and with whom, and it all increases exponentially the more kids we have. As the CEO of the household, there is a lot of day to day stuff we automatically do that isn't always obvious. To the unsuspecting family members this stuff often just happens and the intricate chain of events that took place to make it happen go un-noticed (well, unless we finally blow off some frustration by TELLING THEM EXACTLY EVERYTHING WE'VE GOT GOING ON). Adding E2 to that is like having a second boss, who really isn't your boss, but keeps piling work on your desk anyway.
I've taken to reminding her not to worry about later, tomorrow, next week, next month, or next year - funny, since my life revolves around strategizing in advance, worring and pondering what will happen in the coming year. "Let's think about right now," I'll wisely advise.
And maybe this isn't a phase that she's going through...but a lesson in 'one day at a time' I'm learning.
I've been pondering what E2's CONSTANT NEED TO TALK could possibly mean. She's loud, and I admit I often tune her out because to be attentive everysinglemomentoftheday would cause my brain to implode. As it is, I just have bleeding ears by mid-afternoon.
She talks about EVERYTHING, but I think what drives me craziest is that she's always days, weeks, months, or even just hours away from where we are right then.
She's got at least ten ideas on what she'd like to do for her next birthday (in September) and she's been planning it since October.
She's planning on E1 and I helping her shop for her wedding dress.
She thinks we should hike the blue trail the next time we go to Georgia.
She's saving her last piece of gum (from Easter) to chew on our flight to Hawaii in January.
She'd like to have Triscuits and cheese for an after school snack today (it's 9:30am).
She chatters on and on all day, making plans and dreaming up how great it's all going to be...and she's got a memory, so don't think she'll be forgetting any of this any time soon.
It's inspiring, I guess, that she has so many grand plans and ideas. I should see about hiring her a personal assistant, really, someone with superhuman qualities to keep track of all these ideas and help make them happen. But the trouble is, the personal assistant tasks usually fall to her not-so-superhuman mother.
We scarcely get finished eating breakfast and she's plotting an afternoon snack. We just walk into the house after getting groceries and she's telling me what she thinks we should have for lunch, oh and can they have marshmallows for dessert? After lunch she thinks we should... and after Dad gets home... and when is Friday? Is it tomorrow?
All this before I've unloaded one bag of groceries. Before I finish eating lunch she'll be back to adding to the list - and hey, don't forget those marshmallows. She let's me know if I'm slacking by trying to squeeze in something foolish like laundry. She's exhausting. Not in the physical, play hard, kind of way. She exhausts me mentally.
Motherhood, I think even more than Fatherhood, is mentally challenging. There is so much we Mom's have crammed into our brains about what happens, when, where, and with whom, and it all increases exponentially the more kids we have. As the CEO of the household, there is a lot of day to day stuff we automatically do that isn't always obvious. To the unsuspecting family members this stuff often just happens and the intricate chain of events that took place to make it happen go un-noticed (well, unless we finally blow off some frustration by TELLING THEM EXACTLY EVERYTHING WE'VE GOT GOING ON). Adding E2 to that is like having a second boss, who really isn't your boss, but keeps piling work on your desk anyway.
I've taken to reminding her not to worry about later, tomorrow, next week, next month, or next year - funny, since my life revolves around strategizing in advance, worring and pondering what will happen in the coming year. "Let's think about right now," I'll wisely advise.
And maybe this isn't a phase that she's going through...but a lesson in 'one day at a time' I'm learning.
Subscribe to:
Posts (Atom)