All Tickets Have Been Sold for The Sanity Boat

     Hero hottie is a great guy. He's helpful, playful, and always tries to do the right thing.
     What he isn't though is...patient. And maybe it's a guy thing, since males always seem to be loud and active and building things or tearing things down. Or perhaps it's a parent thing, we get so busy we can't seem to slow down.
      And maybe that's just the way he is. But he tries to hide it, contain it, not let it control him.
     'Tries' is the word here.
    
      Children though...they know and they're not afraid to tell you like it is.
      
      So one day, about a year and a half ago, hero hottie, CT and I were at Borders. (Ahh, I miss that bookstore.) We were browsing and lingering and not in any great hurry for once. But it didn't matter, CT goes toddling over to her Uncle, with the most serious look on her face.
      "Here is your patience, Uncle." She pinches her fingers together like she's picking something up from the palm of her hand and carefully, as not to drop any, hands it to him.
     "What?" He asks, studying her tiny fingers.
     "I have some patience for you, Uncle. Here take it." And she tries to hand him the invisible patience that she held so delicately in her hand.
     He laughs hard and lets her put the 'patience' in his hand. She grins at him, clearly satisfied that he has some patience now.
    Lesson learned.

  

   The other day I was busy. So busy that not even coffee could help, nor chocolate.

   Perhaps a personal assistant. I would have taken one of those.

   I was watching four children all from the ages of 10 years down to a year. While I was trying to feed them a snack, keep them entertained and keep Bug from eating every thing off the ground, because she truly hopes it's a bug and she will try to eat it...I was also taking photos of my sister's Christmas crafts. (You can see a few pics below.)
    What this crazy? Yes. I had a long sheet of paper hanging from my entertainment center to a tray. I had my professional camera perched on top of  my tripod in the middle of the living room which is normally alright and safe for my equipment, except when you have Abu and CT trying to sneak under the legs of the tripod to play.
      I had fake garland strung from my curtain rods and tied around a chair which sat on top of my table. My sister was helping with the kids but it was still a bit chaotic.
     The children didn't mind at all. They were loving it. There were cool houses to play with and decorations to touch and just so much to help with. I was wrong, I have four personal assistants, I don't need another one. :)
     Stop shaking your head at me and muttering under your breath about crazy women trying to accomplish too much. I was using natural lighting for the photos. And no matter how much I pleaded with the sun to stay up a few extra hours in the evening so I could take the photos after the children weren't around, it strangely wasn't listening to me. Go figure. (grin)
      It was all going pretty well until I couldn't find something. Then frustration started to kick in.
      "What are you looking for Aunt Christy?" CT asks.
      "My sanity."
      She jumps onto the couch and looks at everyone in the room. "Everyone get on the sanity boat. Aunt Christy come ride on the sanity boat."
     If only there was a boat for that.
    But then I'm sure all the tickets would be sold out.

    Later I'm talking with Grandma about our busy afternoon.
    CT joins the conversation. "Grandma. Aunt Christy didn't find her sanity. She was looking for it but she couldn't find it." Then she sighs and shakes her head slowly as if to say poor Aunt Christy.
    
    I guess the boat left without me this week.  :)



Here are some pics....

                 I think the photos turned out well considering I didn't have any professional lighting and I had four personal assistants. :)

 The children kept pulling the top off this one because of all the spooky decorations inside.

I think they wanted to eat the fake candy canes. Luckily they weren't real otherwise they would have disappeared. :)

Avoiding Stress or Otherwise Slaying Monsters

       Stress. Like a monster that nibbles your toes from underneath your bed. You can't quite see it but you know it's there because you end up as a bloody mess.
      Abu was upset with Bean the other week because older sister was spending the night away from home and Abu would be sleeping in their shared bedroom by herself.
       "Bean can't leave. Who will get rid of the monsters while I sleep?" She asks, while casting anxious glances towards the bedroom and all the imaginary monsters that lived there. They're relativity quiet during the day because I don't hear them while the girls are at school. But apparently they are quite furious during the night. I also didn't know that they could only be slayed by older sisters.
       "It will be fine. I'll take care of them before you go to sleep." I reassured her. We had to make sure the closet doors were shut, that the curtains were pulled tightly and that her favorite stuffed animal was firmly tucked under her arms.
       And then it still took a while for her drift off to sleep. The monsters didn't even nibble on her toes.
 
       I've been so busy this week trying to maintain sanity that I haven't even had a chance to write about stress, just experience it. Would that be an Alanis Morissette song? Or an annoying but catchy mix of David Bowie and Queen? It might just be too many Disney movie soundtracks or the Backyardigans. If you're missing my meaning, then think about the song that represents your own soundtrack right now. Is it a little wild or a bit sweet? Mine is fast, frantic and spiritual. Of course, I'm not sure if you can count Joan Osborne's song, 'One of Us', as spiritual, unless your Catholic. Which I'm not. But I do like to play it when I'm questioning the entire universe and pondering if God was a slob would it change anything. Mostly right now the soundtrack to my life is more like Lifehouse's song, 'Simon.'

      But I digress: Let's get back to stress. We all know what it is. It's like our childhood monsters that would inhabit the closets or under the bed or like Bean's, the bathtub drain. It's our troubles, our fears, the things we can't control.
      I know one of my major stresses this week is Abu's need for braces. Our dental insurance doesn't cover it and I found out how the orthodontist can have such a fancy, high tech, and amenity filled office. Really, I don't need access to high speed Internet, fresh coffee, game stations, and reward incentives for showing up on time for my appointments. The fact that she is going to end up with a beautiful smile and an easier time chewing is reward enough for me. I don't begrudge anyone the chance to make a good living but the price for all the work is quite astounding. Worth it for Abu but another stress because it involves juggling a tight budget, a slim savings account and rising food prices to pay for thousands and thousands of dollars worth of dental work.

      The other stress of my week was very personal and quite the attack on my integrity and values. I wish I could say more but because my blog is highly public I have to carefully weigh my words. I have never understood people that write about their bosses, family, or classmates in brutally frank and emotionally driven drivel, and then lose their jobs, their relationships or their friends but don't comprehend how that could possibly happen. I also don't like to talk 'smack' about people, even people I didn't even really know a week ago. Yes, a week ago this person hardly knew my name and now they have totally made it their current mission to make my life miserable. I understand that this life is hard and our insecurities can tie us up, but please don't try to drag me down with you. If I were 'mature' I would write a song like Gwen Stefani's song 'Hollaback Girl' and deal with my stress with that way. (Sarcasm. This is sarcasm because her lyrics remind me of fifth grade girls.)
    As I hope I'm older than that, I will respond with quiet professionalism and knowing that I can wear hero hottie's listening skills out with voicing my frustrations.

   In the meantime here are my quick, (because I have four kids about to have a mutually agreed upon group melt down) ten easy tips for slaying monsters or otherwise getting rid of stress. (Maybe not all stress because unless the tooth fairy brings me money, I will still worry until Abu's teeth are straight. But at least I can get rid of the little stresses.)

    1. Start a blog. Just don't say anything you'll regret or else your stress will be worse.
    2. Shut the closet doors. For kids they like this so they can't see the monsters. For adults, it works so you can't see the mess begging for your attention. Out of sight, out of mind.
    3. Laugh. Find a reason and do it. There are plenty of studies to back up my recommendations but this is a blog not a news article so I don't have to show my resources. :)
   4. Take a bath. But send the kids away first. Perhaps not too far away but just long enough to reclaim a bit of peace. Also, take a bath after the water heater fills back up. Do you know how much it stinks to fill a bathtub full of water and find out you didn't wait long enough for hot water?
   5. Turn off the television. Happiness can not...no matter what anyone tells you...be found in whiter teeth, eating yogurt and discussing your digestive tract, or in that mysterious five minutes that can save you tons of money. 
   6. Annoy hero hottie. Whoops, sorry only I get to do that one. And I'm only saying that because he's being ornery and trying to put metal clips in my hair. Don't ask. He's just ornery, what can I say.
   7. Listen to music. But not 'Everyday is Exactly the Same' by Nine Inch Nails. This song may not help, somehow being reminded that no matter how often I do dishes, I will still have more tomorrow, doesn't improve the mood. Try Pink's 'Get the Party Started' or depending on your mood, 'Black Hole Sun' by Soundgarden.
    8. Go to bed early. Really it's not a crime to go to bed early when you're an adult. Seriously. Burning the candles at both ends was just a conspiracy by the candle makers to sell more candles.
    9. Take the children, the spouse, the dog, perhaps even the cat...to the park. The trees, the swings, the lack of walls and chores, can be so uplifting. Nature is good for you. Maybe not in the winter, but on the whole we're supposed to spend some time outside.
    10. Do something easy on your 'To Do' list, just so you can scratch it off. Sometimes I put stupid things on my list just so I can mark them off. It can be so satisfying.

     Ahh, now I can relax. I have finished my blog about stress and I can cross it off my list. Lets not analyze that too closely. I think there might be something wrong with being stressed out about completing a blog on the topic of easing stress...Naw, it's the American way.
      Next on the list...finishing my brownie and listening to 'Adding to the Noise' by Switchfoot.

Life is Too Short to Eat Burnt Toast

       The past days I've been contemplating the stupid craziness part of life. It started as I stared at the pieces of toast I was preparing for Abu.
        Here, I'm going to pause for a short lesson in history.  Somewhere in Asia or so, around 12000- 17000 years ago, perhaps even longer, wheat was feeding people. It could be grown, harvested and stored as a reliable food source. It was wonderful and I'm sure a lot of women appreciated a little more growing and a lot less foraging. The grain was an important staple in the Bible and throughout history. To really understand the significance of wheat, go in your kitchen and try to find five items (that aren't a fruit or veggie) that don't contain wheat. It's in everything, from sauces and soups to candy and ice cream. This is in addition to the obvious suspects of bread, pasta, crackers, cookies, and cereal.
     
        The toast I was peering at, as I sprinkled cinnamon on it was not made from wheat. It called gluten free and whereas it won't kill you and you can grow accustomed to the taste and texture, it's not really bread. Its more like a bread wanna be. But my children have gluten allergies and can not enjoy a staple that has been around since the dawning of civilization.
      Hence, why I'm staring at this piece of toast and wondering why life is so ridiculous sometimes. The loaf of bread is over six dollars, which is even more expensive than a high quality loaf of wheat bread. The gluten free loaf is tiny, so it's contains less than half the slices that a 'regular' loaf of bread does and on top of that...Which maybe I shouldn't, but even I can't stand to eat it, I cut off the crust for Abu. If it was wheat bread, I would tell her to tough it out but I already feel like she's having to eat bread that is no where near the same level of 'breadness' that a wheat loaf is, so I cut off the hard, crouton like crust. Seriously, it's bread with a crouton layer.
     Bean will only eat the sliced bread if I make French toast out of it. This is probably why her favorite foods are not mac and cheese or peanut butter and jelly sandwiches but tacos with corn tortillas.
     And if it's burnt toast, (ignore the little voice that says eat it anyway because ounce for ounce I swear it cost more than gold,) make a new piece. It's hard enough to enjoy food in our household when gluten is a vile enemy, but life is definitely too short to be munching on burnt toast.

     Now, as if having to eat gluten free bread wasn't a sign that the world has gone crazy, the news is equally insane. I mean, you know the world is tilted or something when good Amish go bad. In Pennsylvania a group of Amish men, who had been kicked out, wanted revenge...or attention. They went back and committed great acts of violence against other Amish men. They cut off their beards. You know the world is going to hell when ex-Amish are cutting off other Amish guys beards. This is truly a sign of the times.
     But jokes aside, a beard is very important to the Amish guys from a religious point of view and to have them hacked off, brings them humiliation and shame.
     And regardless how one feels about beards and religion, it actually stinks because it is crime and doesn't solve any problems. It just makes more.
     It just seems like everyone is feeling the stress and changing of our world.

     And then lastly...crime in the United States is up. At least thievery is on the rise or at least thieves are getting more bold. This year thieves have targeted anything metal; AC units, manholes, copper wiring, and now...an entire bridge. Seriously. I can't make this up. And it was even Mark Twain who said, "Truth is stranger than fiction, but it is because Fiction is obliged to stick to possibilities; Truth isn't."
      In North Beaver Township, PA (have to start wondering about that state), thieves stole an entire bridge that was 50 feet long and 20 feet wide. The bridge was made out of corrugated steel and valued at $100,000. Wow! Do you know how much work it would take to steal the whole thing? And I can just imagine the look on the first person's face who went to cross it and the whole thing was missing. You might wonder about your sanity for a moment, because who steals a 50 foot bridge?

     Truth might be stranger than fiction but I can definitely wait for the cable television movies on the 'Amish beard massacres' or 'Gone in One Night: the Story of a Bridge that Went Missing.'
      So in this crazy world, who needs toast; gluten or not to be gluten; I'm thinking chocolate. And lots of it.

The Philosophy of Going to School in your Pajama's

      After so many years of being a Mother and repeating the same routine every day for well over ten years, I finally decided that this morning was it. This morning we wouldn't worry about appearances, rules or routines.
       Brush your teeth, but please go to school in your pj's, your robe, don't brush your hair and leave your dirty underwear on. It's alright. It saves us time. We don't have to worry about grabbing our jackets because we're wearing our robes. There's more time for sleep because we don't have to do our hair and tonight, all we have to do is slip into bed and we're ready for nighttime.
     
        Have I truly lost it? Has years of doing dishes a few times a day finally drove me crazy? Has folding the same shirts, pants, and towels finally sent me over the edge? How many times can a person cook dinner before they decide that their children can live off cereal, fruit and toast for all three meals a day? I'm not sure but some nights my children get awfully close to finding out. (Grin)
         
        And I'm not kidding when I say I sent Bean and Abu to school in their pj's. They were so cute too. Flannel pajama bottoms, messy hair and their robes. I even took pictures to prove that we took a break from our usual getting ready for school routine. They don't get to go to school being so unkempt and messy. It was fun.
         I didn't do it because I'm tired and worn out on the same daily script. It was Crazy Day for their 'I'm Drug Free Week.' They had to dress wacky for their school day. My children thought showing up in their pj's would constitute being crazy.

         I have to smile because at least I'm not raising Wal-Mart shoppers. I swear if I have to see one more sloppy woman dressed in a tight spaghetti strap night shirt and baggy pants that keeps trying to fall off while I'm trying to purchase food I'm going to explain to her that when they say you should wear a shirt or no service; they also mean you should wear a shirt that doesn't allow your boobies to flop out for the entire world to see. And wearing shoes, means actual shoes; not fuzzy bunny slippers. Oh, boy. We'll leave discussions of Wal-Mart people for other websites.
       On that point though I do have to mention a funny piece of journalism I read. This reporter was interviewing a woman shopper about this dollar store that had opened up in her town. She was excited because she didn't have to dress up to shop there like she did when she went to Wal-Mart. What??? Does that mean she's just going to wear a robe or worse, her birthday suit?
       
        Anyway...

        I'm not sure how wearing crazy clothes is supposed to promote not using drugs. The theme for today is Too Cool for Drugs. Tomorrow they can bring a stuffed animal to school (great, lets not promote bed bugs while we're at it) and the theme is Hugs not Drugs. Wednesday's theme is 'Drugs turn you inside out' and they get to wear their clothes inside out. Thursday we are back to being crazy. And Friday is 'Partner up for a fight against drugs.' You have to find a friend and dress up in the same outfit.
         The girls love this week because it's a break from their normal routine. But I still wonder how many kids won't do drugs because they wore their clothes inside out for a day? I have my doubts and like all parents should do I have had frank discussions with my children about drugs and the consequences. I know Bean. Don't tell her not to do something without a reason she can agree with, otherwise she'll do it just to spite me. I don't want her getting into drugs because she's trying to prove a point to her parents. Whatever she may perceive that point to be. And obviously, even the most diligent parent can't always prevent their children from doing stupid things but I do find that they do better when they understand the truth. So with Bean, because I know she works off facts and information, I let her watch two shows on the Discovery Channel about drug usage. The one show was about a Mother who was going to give birth in a prison because of drug usage. The other show was about a Mother who gave birth to a baby addicted to heroin. The shows were honest, real and explained consequences far more thoroughly than bringing your favorite stuffed animal to school will ever do. But I suppose schools have to try because unfortunately, not all parents are going to educate their children.


        Which brings us around to philosophy, strangely enough. Right now, I'm reading a book, 'Breakfast with Socrates' by Robert Rowland Smith.
         Why would I be reading a book on philosophy? Probably because one can only clean the toilet so many times before you wonder if Socrates was right when he said, "The unexamined life is not worth living." Or maybe, it's better not to think about how many you have cleaned crap off the porcelain surface.
         The word 'philosophy' translates to mean, the love of wisdom. Which, as I've been trying to teach Bean, being wise is completely different than being smart. Of course, no matter how many times I've done it or how much I hate it, I do think it's being pretty darn wise to clean the toilet...often too. :)
         I've just started the book, so I'm not much pass the chapters that are about waking up and getting ready in the morning. I'm currently studying the ideas of Descartes and the state of existing. He said something cool like, "I think, therefore I am."
         Can that translate to blogging? "I blog, therefore I am."
         I will have to ponder that for a while.

         (Grin.)