Conversations with the kids

Conversation with a four-year-old:

Her: Mom? Can I have some monies out of the money thingy?

Me: I don’t have any money.

Her: Yes you do! In the thingy.

I pull open the ashtray and hand her a nickel.

Her: I want more! Give me a penny!

Me: What do you say?

Her: Pleeeeeaase!

Me: Okay, how many pennies are there in a nickel?

Her (without hesitation): Five.

Incredulous I hand her five pennies.

Me: How many pennies are there in a dime?

Her: Two.

Me: No.

Her: Four?

Me: No.

Her: Five?

Okay, I’ll hold off on those college applications just yet. But I do wonder if she might be ready for kindergarten this fall rather than next ...

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Conversation with an eleven-year-old:

Him: They’re doing the four-star program at school.

Me: What’s that?

Him: It’s about abstinence.

Me: Oh. Well, I think abstinence has some valid points. After all sex doesn’t come without risk.

Him: You mean std’s?

Me: Yup, and babies. I don’t want my babies having babies.

Him: Mom? How old are people when they first have sex?

Me: I don’t know, I think it’s different for different people.

And if you ask about me I was forty. Oh wait, I'm not yet forty. Okay, thirty. Yeah, that's it thirty. He can't do math right? Okay twenty, minus two or three. But it doesn't really matter what I did, right?

Him: But what’s the average?

Me: I don’t know. I suspect some people in your school are having sex - which is way too young. And some people don’t have sex until they are thirty. I guess that averages out to something around eighteen.

Him: Weird.

Me: What?

Him: That’s only six years for me.

Me: Well, you can wait longer. I have no problem with that.

Him (sniggering): But I don’t want to be a forty-year-old virgin "... Hey, lady, can I put my bike in your car?”

Me: I think it went "...I hope you have a big trunk ‘cause I’m putting my bike in it.”

Him: Huh?

Me: Never mind.

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I’m in no hurry for the baby to start school. She'll get there soon enough. She can definitely wait another year. Definitely.

S.A.D.?

The alarm screams wake up, Wake Up, WAKE UP! It’s 6:30 am and I have to take my son to school. My eyelids are heavy and puffy. I rub them which does not help. I sneeze several times like a cat with dust in her nose. Overnight it snowed. There are two inches on the ground. Um, hello? Spring? I drag myself out of bed and subsequently drag my son out of bed. The hubbie is still asleep. I throw a coat on over my sweats and plop on the couch, put on the tv and watch with eyes half open as my son gets ready for school. Soon enough there is a knock at the door. The neighbor boy has arrived. The boys and I pile into the car and I drop them off at 7:20 am. My son has forgotten his backpack. I tell him tough patooties - don’t forget it next time.

Once home I make coffee. I attempt get middle daughter up. She doesn’t want to get out of bed. She whines and fusses. Finally she comes stomping downstairs. Her hair is a mess, essentially dreadlocks. She’s already mad at me so I take the opportunity and brush her hair. She screams. Her screams wake up papa. He comes wandering out, stares at her and then goes to switch the laundry.

She’s hungry. I give her a cereal bar. She is not impressed. I tell her that if she would get up earlier she could have a proper breakfast. Another neighbor comes to pick her up and she is off to school.

Finally I drink my coffee and snack on low fat cheese puffs (yes, tremendously healthy, I know). I pop a claritin. Then I get the baby up. She has ballet. Miraculously she dresses herself - tights, ballet outfit, panties - the whole shebang. I brush her hair. She is braver than her sister, less sensitive. She gets french braids.

I put on "real pants" and don a knitted hat (yeah for snow). We go to ballet. I knit during her class. The scarf is almost finished. I want to make a matching hat but don’t know if I’ll have time.

The babe and I have lunch at the club. Me, a BLT with hummus and green tea. Her, a bagel with cream cheese, chips and apple juice.

We get home and I sit on the couch. My eyes are heavy again. The hubbie is still doing laundry. The baby goes and plays in her room and I fall asleep.

I wake up as the hub is leaving for work. I snuggle with the babe. Now she is asleep. Soon we have to leave to pick up her sister. I’ll be armed with store bought cookies.

I am very tired. I have no energy. I am not sad per se. Just tired, very very tired. I need to exercise. I need to take my vitamins (although they look nice sitting on my butcher block). I need to eat three square meals and healthy snacks. I need for it to stop snowing already and warm up. I need some green (and not just tea). It’s the cloudy days that just kill me. I wonder if I’m dealing with Seasonal Affective Disorder.

Yesterday I found these crocuses prying their way up out of the dirt. Such tenacity in a monotone world. I want to be these little guys; a bright cheery spot against a dull background.

But right now I'm the background. I did manage to make homemade ravioli last night. And I’ve got ambitious plans for this afternoon. Perhaps the treadmill. And a shower. Maybe a bit of knitting and maybe some sewing. And I’d like to finish the laundry for that grand husband of mine. We’ll see how the afternoon progresses.

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Addendum #1: The cookies were a smashing success. The ride home from school was most pleasant. Note to self: bribe middle child with cookies, responds well to sugar-filled stimuli.

Addendum #2: I, like millions of others, typed tired into google and found this interesting little site and article. What a curious world we live in and I am a part of it. But, no, I didn't send in my own confessional. This blog is enough.

Addendum #3: I really am getting on the treadmill. I'll be there in 10 minutes. Here's to a wakeful tomorrow.

An Ordinary Day

Today I am having an ordinary day. And, in having an ordinary day I am choosing to have ordinary courage. Tomorrow is my cardiac ablation.

Last night the baby said to me, “Mommy we are going to die. I am going to die with you. We’ll die in a couple of days.”

Gaaaaaah! What?!!! This is much different from our death conversation several months ago. And, I haven’t been talking about death. I haven’t even been talking about complications associated with the ablation. I don't want to worry the kids.

“What makes you say that?” I asked. She looked at the ground, shy, embarrassed.

“What makes you think that?” I repeated.

“My brother’s back.” she said, “my brother’s back and ghosts.”

?????????? I didn't get it.

“Have the kids been talking to you? Did they tell you something might happen to Mom?”

“No.” she replied.

“Well,” I told her, “I’m not going to die, at least not in the near future.”

“Okay,” she said, “in a couple of weeks then we will die.”

“Hopefully longer than that.” I replied, perplexed, but knowing full well that a couple of weeks is eons to a four-year-old.

I went to bed trying to gage what she had said. Likely the kids were talking, worried about me and the ablation. It rattled me. But the rattle was in my brain and not my gut. I did not have that deep abdominal do not go get onto that plane do not go forward with this procedure feeling. The rattle was more along the lines of lets get this damn thing over with so I can get on with my life kind of feeling. And I slept well. I woke up happy.

I got up at 6:30 this morning. The hubbie was already at work. I had to get five children to school; my three and two neighbors. The boy was easy. He even remembered to ask for more lunch money. Middle daughter did not want to get up. She didn’t have anything to wear. None of her clothes fit her - NOTHING! I found an outfit which she begrudgingly put on. Then she put on her brother’s snow boots. I suggested she wear her own shoes (tennis shoes, keens, crocs, snowboots?). No, she wants to wear her brother’s overlarge snow boots. And she has nothing to wear that will fit her. Fine. And her hair? She looks like a wild child and is one step away from full-on dreadlocks. I didn’t even go there. We had nothing for breakfast - NOTHING! How about cereal or toast or eggs or yogurt or oranges or bananas? NO! I don’t like that stuff! There is NOTHING TO EAT! WHY DON’T YOU GO SHOPPING?!!! I threatened grounding and no ballet. She settled on toast.

The coffee pot overflowed - grounds everywhere. I filtered my coffee through the french press. It was cold. I heated it in the microwave. We didn’t have chocolate to make a “ghetto mocha”. I decided against an outright temper tantrum and went to get the baby ready.

The baby, a parrot of her sister, did not like the outfit I had chosen. Nor did she want to choose her own outfit. She did not want to wear those socks and no she didn’t want breakfast. I didn’t go near the hair. Dreadlocks you want dreadlocks you get.

In the car the baby wanted her sister’s toast. Sister did not want to share. I told the baby she could have breakfast at school. SHE DOESN’T WANT BREAKFAST! After dropping her off she gave me an extra long hug - she didn’t want to let go. Let’s not start talking about death, not here, not now. I released myself from her grip and came home.

Now I have this pile of laundry to contend with. The sink is full of dishes. I need to make a Cost Co run and go to the post office. Middle daughter has ballet tonight. It’s watching day where the parents stay and, well, watch. I can’t stay. I have to go to work and discipline someone for slacking off. I hope to be back in time to see the end of her session. I have no plan to feed my family dinner and am skeptical of creating one between now and then.

This morning the sky was overcast, grey. The snow is melting and everything is brown. But now, as I write this, the clouds are breaking up. I can see blue sky. It’s lifting my spirits. The hubbie called. There are left over cinnamon rolls at his work. I think I’ll stop there on the way to Cost Co and get a treat. I’ll get a latte on the way - no grounds necessary.

Today I am not climbing a mountain or jumping out of an airplane. I’m not fulfilling any life long fantasies. Today I am having an ordinary day with the faith that tomorrow will be ordinary too.