January resolution wrap-up

So, January's resolution. Resolve computer time issue—make computer time also quality time.

Overall, I have definitely improved the quality of the time I spend on the computer. I do a lot less sitting down at the computer because I don't have the energy to think of something better to do, and I waste a lot less time aimlessly surfing the Web or playing Web games. The recurrence of my Sims obsession this month didn't really help the resolution, though! Nor did the huge number of emails generated by one of my groups. (One afternoon, I got 68 emails from that group alone.) I'd say the end result of January's resolution is a general improvement, but it still needs work.

As far as other months' resolutions go, I've done a great job working out, got started working on the writing, and cerainly thought a lot about time management! I'm still happy with the idea of doing one resolution a month—I really think it's going to help in the long run make these changes a longer term part of my life.

a nice surprise

Finally tonight I managed to set aside an hour or so and get some writing done. After doing the first exercise in my book, I started sorting through a folder full of old documents, and I read through several old pieces of writing, including my first 'finished' manuscript. (I've had a lot of disdain for how stupid that one is.) And it turns out, they're actually pretty good! Not fantastic, mind you, and needing lots of work—but the basic foundations and a lot of the writing are pretty good. Definitely better than I remembered!

The other night Lou and I were talking about things that we had once thought were important but that have slowly drifted to the back burner and completely off the stove due to the lack of time these days. Writing had become like that for me—a distant dream, and one that I was increasingly sure I was kidding myself about as the days went by. I hadn't even looked at anything I'd written in a long time. It's nice to be reminded that there really is something there.

time management

As February approaches (February's resolution is learning to manage my time better), I am so glad I picked this to focus on early in the year, because I'm really panicked about how I'm ever going to do all the things I think are important to be done.

I'm pretty good about keeping ongoing to-do lists, but terrible at prioritizing the things that need to be done first ... and no matter how I do it, the most time-consuming and put-offable tasks (which include writing, arguably one of the things I want most to do) wind up on the semi-permanent back burner, waiting until the day I have an uninterrupted block of time at the same time as I have the enthusiasm and energy to do them. (That would be a long-winded synonym for never!)

I'd like to just schedule my day—certain hours for one task or type of task, certain hours for fun, etc.—but a person with three kids ages 3 and under just can't be that inflexible. I suppose I could assign the hours such that I did the things assigned to those hours if I could, and scrapped them if I couldn't, which would mean they got done occasionally... I just don't know. I suspect February will be some trial and error! I hope to just be able to get out from under this feeling of panic and bewildered overwhelmedness.

parking lot rants

I seem to have been in a lot of full parking lots recently, and I found them annoying.

To start with, there was the guy shoveling out his snow-plowed-in car in the parking lot at the Y Monday morning. I come out with two toddlers holding onto a stroller, the guy is parked two spaces away. He watches me making my way to my (also snow-plowed-in) car. Ya think he offered to shovel me out? Or lend me his shovel? Nope. Course not.

Next bit—people who see me, three small kids in tow, reach my car, and immediately turn on their signal and settle in to wait. Really, people. From the point where I unlock my car, it takes me a good 10-15 minutes to get the kids in the car and get ready to go. And that's when I don't feel like every move I make is being watched by someone impatient to have my spot. Why block a parking lot lane for someone who's going to take that long? It's just nonsensical.

Then there are the geniuses who see me pulling out, turn on their turn signals, and then keep inching forward as I'm trying to back out. I, of course, being a mom of 3, drive a big old honking minivan that's complicated to maneuver in parking lots anyway. So if someone is in the lane moving forward, I'm as likely as not just to pull back into my spot for fear of hitting them.

And there are the people who "pace" you as you're walking to your car. One guy did this to me the other day. I'd walk a few steps, his car would jerk forward. I am pretty scared of cars, and being a helpless pedestrian being stalked by one in a parking lot is not something I enjoy.

Now, don't get me wrong. I appreciate the frustrations of a full parking lot. But seriously! There's just no need to be that aggressive about it! (And please don't get me started about the specific parking lot at Greyson's preschool, and all the moms who insist on parking in the middle of the lot [shared with a church, and very small] while two classes of preschoolers and their younger siblings are trying to get in and out of school.)

learning to count to 100 in Portuguese

Or some other language. Anything but English!

Here's the problem. I go to bed, I lie there in the dark looking around, and I start thinking. And the next thing I know I'm off on some distressing and/or exciting mental tangent, and sleep is the farthest thing from my mind. To try and quell this impulse, a few years ago I started counting my breaths. I'd lie there and focus on each breath and count it until I fell asleep.

It wasn't too long before I got into the routine of this, and counting was no longer enough of a distraction—it was too easy to count with one half of my mind, and think with the other. So instead I started counting backwards. And that worked for a long time. But now it doesn't anymore. So I need something else that is rhythmic and requires concentration—but it can't require too much concentration, or it causes the problem on its own, makes me too interested and wakes me right up.

So, I'm thinking of learning to count to 100 in a foreign language. It'll take me a while to get up to speed, but then the effort of remembering the words will take enough focus, but not too much. (Well, it's a theory, anyway!) Any suggestions which language?

the flip-side

So this is why having three kids isn't always magical.

Last night we go to bed around midnight, as per usual. Finally stop talking and Lou goes to sleep around 12:45. (He's one of those irritating people who can fall asleep in mere seconds, while I lie awake and have to invent mind tricks for myself to stop thinking and go to sleep. But that's another post.) He hasn't been asleep for five minutes when I start hearing strange noises. It sounds like a person moving around. I try to convince myself it's the dog, but eventually decide it can't possibly be. So I get up and go out to the hallway, where I find Greyson in the bathroom hovering over the toilet. (We've had some mucus-induced midnight vomiting this past week—apparently we've actually trained him to get up and go to the bathroom instead of vomiting in his bed! Yay for Greyson!) He's nauseous, but doesn't throw up. So I put him back to bed, change his leaky diaper, and head back to bed myself.

I get in bed, and Miss Veronica wakes up. I spend about 20 minutes listening to her—full cry, decelerate, decelerate, quiet, back to sleep?, no, full cry again! I decide that after a week's worth of bad nights, my sleep is more important than her learning to self-soothe. I get up and go get her. On my way from her room to ours, she starts shrieking full-force, and I just know she's going to wake someone up. Get her in her car seat next to the bed, give her her bottle. Get in bed to go back to sleep.

Then I hear voices talking. I get up to go see which child is awake and how bad the situation is. It's Charles, and he's whining. Now, Charles doesn't usually respond well to us going in in the middle of the night. It's often better just to let him put himself back to sleep. But I think that since Greyson's already been up, I don't want Charles waking him again, so I go in. I still have no clue what he wanted. I get him somewhat pacified, go back to bed. Veronica wakes up again, and this time doesn't really want her bottle. Just wants to "complain". While I'm trying to get her settled back, I hear the whining again from the boys' room. Charles is up again.

It's about this point—2 am, and I have yet to get a single moment's sleep—that I call for reinforcements and send Lou in to deal with Charles. Finally get Veronica back to sleep, and manage to eventually get to sleep myself.

(And the coda? Veronica was back up, gassy and complaining, at 5. Then she woke up at 8, and Lou got up with her. Greyson and I both woke up at 9, and Charles didn't make it downstairs until 10! Personally, I would actually have preferred it if they'd just all slept last night!)

three really IS a magic number

Like most moms who take the plunge and decide to have three kids, I was nervous. How would I get anything done? How would I go places? Was I really equipped to handle the kind of attention demanded by three kids?

And maybe this is because Veronica has such a peaceful, tranquil disposition (so far, anyway), but I've found it's just the opposite. Not only has adding a third child to the household not been a disruptive influence, but I've also found a level of confidence and happiness in parenting that I've never had before. Other people have noticed it, too. At a recent mother's group meeting, a woman I barely know commented on how much more "at peace" I seem now. And it's really true. I could speculate on various reasons, but mostly I'm just happy knowing we made the right decision and knowing that we have a happier family because there are now three kids in it than we would have had if we had stopped at two. (And, NO, I don't think the effect would be greater if we went for four, thank you!)

It wouldn't be for everyone, obviously, but for us, three is the perfect number!

blue-eyed babies

It's amazing what a spectrum they cover. All three of the kids have blue eyes, but they're all different colors. Greyson's are ice-blue, very Scandinavian. Charles's are a bright, clear blue. And Veronica's are a very deep, almost dark blue.

In further comparisons, Veronica has changed her look a fair amount since birth. When she was born, she seemed to look more like Charles, between the shape of her nose and her overall face shape. But now she looks strikingly like baby pictures of Greyson—people are starting to comment on it. She's still dark-haired, though, while Greyson's remains nearly white-blonde. Charles is starting to get a red tint to his, although that could be the effect of the winter darkening.

No two alike, that's for sure!

book report III

I've finished a couple of books recently. Last night, finished my bedside book, Beginnings, Middles & Ends by Nancy Kress. It's a far more standard book on writing, but specifically focusing on the three separate spots where a writer can get stuck. I wasn't completely blown away by it, but I appreciated that she took a workmanlike approach to writing, and definitely found several tidbits that I think I can use. Next up at the bedside, a book of Louis L'Amour short stories. (Non-westerns, though, so less exciting than it could be!)

I also finished a book on Betsy Ross and the first flag. Not that interesting, and written in an old-fashioned young adult style that just doesn't fit any readership these days.

And, finally, gave up on a book of short stories by E.M. Forster, most of which I had read before. I like Forster quite a bit, especially A Room with a View and Maurice. The big difference, really, is that the novels tend to be traditional plotted works with a narrative flow, and the short stories are much more conceptual, allegorical even, and harder to follow.

American Idol!

Yay, it's back! Despite feeling extremely old that I missed the cut for this national phenomenon by one year (no, I don't think I'm good enough to get on TV ... but I'll never know, will I?), I'm so excited that it's back. Yahoo! It certainly makes it much easier to wait for the next installment of the Amazing Race. :)

insidious machine

Okay, halfway through the month, it's time to get serious about my January resolution—quality computer time or no computer time! You know when you're reading a Television without Pity recap of a show you no longer watch (Desperate Housewives, and the increasing zaniness of the plots indicates that was a choice that upped my quality of life!), that you should have something better to do with your time. (Also, having just removed three of them from one sentence, I am hereby removing the word "really" from my vocabulary.) Last night, I blew an entire three-hour post-bedtime on the Sims. Only to have all my work (literally) go up in flames when a forgotten toaster pastry burnt down the family's house and took out one of the sons to boot. Still not sure if I managed to escape without saving that horror story!

You would think, with my overload of journals and my huge backlog of to-be-read books that I would have better things to do with my time ... and so I do! I am rededicating myself to improving my computer usage for the rest of the month. No more TwoP until The Amazing Race comes back on (Miss Alli's recaps are anything but a waste of time—they are things of beauty and joys forever). If I'm sitting here, I'd better be reading and/or replying to email, writing, or blogging. By golly. (Wish me luck.)

there they go being cute again!

So we put the boys to bed, and we're down here listening to thumps and bumps coming from their room. Lou goes upstairs to sternly put them back in bed, and comes down to tell me that he just couldn't be stern with them ... because they were cleaning their room.

Yes. At ages 3.5 and 2, they are upstairs cleaning their room instead of going to bed. I'm writing this down because I suspect it's the last time that is ever going to happen!

mood swings

The last couple of weeks have been an interesting study in contrasting moods. Last week presented a number of higher-end parenting challenges, with the boys overtly lying to us and pointing fingers at each other, and the questions connected with dealing with those behaviors. Yet, despite all that, I felt really good last week. Everything in my life seemed to be going well, I was happy and calm, and generally felt good about my daily life.

This week, nothing much has changed. The boys are somewhat less challenging, even—except that Charles is sick and has decided to be potty-trained—and yet, my stress level is way up. The last couple of mornings I've really dreaded getting up (and, I think not coincidentally, have been woken up in the middle of dreams that were far more interesting than my daily life), and have found that the kids have caused me to overload with very little acting-out, comparatively. Things that shouldn't bother me that much have just sent me over the edge.

Not sure what the difference is, honestly. Last week I was getting less sleep, and my exercise and diet were the same. I had fewer journals on my plate with deadlines farther away, granted. And I really do dread having to read and deal with Journal of Chinese Philosophy—but it's my last time doing that journal, so I shouldn't feel that bad about it. Maybe it's hormonal ... my cycle is due back any time now.

Either way, I'm trying to muster my enthusiasm back up. This afternoon helped some—I got all the laundry done and felt like I was being efficient but not overstressed. Hm. Thinking about it, it really seems like Charles being sick may be a large part of the problem. It makes him whiny, which reacts on Greyson, which reacts on me. And then adding him wanting to potty-train on top, and it's definitely tiring. You know, let's pretend I never thought of that, because heaven only knows how long this sickness could linger. Charles tends to take his time getting over things. And the potty-training could continue being a problem for weeks or even months, based on the experiences of other people I've known whose kids have started at this age.

Blah. I think it's time to go to sleep now ...

end of an era

Yahoo! This morning I pumped for the last time.

Six years ago last Sunday, I threw out my birth control pills. Since then, I've spent a total of 3 months on Clomid to get pregnant, 3 months doing IUI and injectible drugs to get pregnant, 6 months trying to get pregnant naturally, 7 months trying to regulate my cycle to get pregnant, 11 months post-partum, and 33 months pregnant. Plus 5 months with two different IUDs trying not to get pregnant. That's 68 months, folks. 5 years and 8 months worth of worrying about my reproductive system pretty much every day.

It was, unquestionably, worth it. I've given birth to four wonderful children, all of whom have enriched my life in their own ways. And I wouldn't trade it for anything.

But I am thrilled beyond belief that I am done! Done done done! Not only do I never have to worry about getting/being pregnant again, I don't have the responsibility of trying not to, either, thanks to my brave and generous better half taking the hit for the team.

Now, the only thing left to do is figure out what to do with my pump. Many destructive things come to mind as a fitting send-off to that horrid thing, but I think I'll try and give it away first.

Yee-hah!!! I'm done!

resolution - January

So my resolution for January was to stop using the computer as a mental babysitter. (For me, that is.) I have too much tendency just to sit down here and surf when I can't think of anything better to do or don't want to do what I should be doing. The idea behind the resolution is to keep my computer time for work; email; blogging; writing; and keeping in touch with people.

To date in January, I've done okay. I still check my email obsessively, but I have kept my web-surfing down to my first-thing-in-the-morning check of my regular sites. There's more work to be done (I've been on BabyCenter a few too many times each day), to be sure, but I have definitely made my time online more worthwhile.

I've also gotten a jump on at least one future resolution—I've been to the gym twice this week! First time in my life, I actually used weight machines and everything. And I kind of liked it.

So far so good on the "New year, new outlook" front.

"brother did it"

Ugh. I was definitely not ready to arbitrate between the two boys while they pointed fingers at each other, but it has started. The other night, I found a ripped up book (just the spine, but the principle is the same) in their room. The pieces were in Greyson's bed, but he claimed Charles did the ripping and put the book in his bed. Since Charles was smirking while he denied it, I punished Charles. But tonight I found another book with a ripped-up spine, and they both pointed at each other and said, "He did it." So I punished them both, because I didn't know who to believe.

I felt awful, because Greyson genuinely looked shocked and hurt. I explained to him why I had punished him, too, but he didn't get it. And I really think it was probably Charles.

So I feel like I'm stuck in this place where I'm either teaching them they can pull one over on me by pointing fingers at each other, or I'm teaching them that they can get punished for something they didn't do. I'm really kind of at a loss about how to deal with this, especially since the stakes will get higher as they get older.

Ah, parenting. Never a dull moment.

Happy New Year!

2005 was the best year so far; hoping for 2006 to improve on that standard. :)