I have my M.D.*, so I can now diagnose medical problems in my children. Most recently, I have diagnosed Ella with colic. This child cries more than Emma, Charlotte, and Cristina combined. I'm pretty sure if she was my first child I would have tied my tubes myself. At first, I thought maybe she wasn't getting enough attention and that is why she was crying all the time. I quickly realized that was not the case considering that Brian and I have both spent hours trying to comfort her. Emma, Charlotte, and Cristina have all done their part to try and soothe her. It seems that none of us are very good at it and we are all starting to lose our patience with Ella. Case in point....
Today, Cristina, Ella, and I were all sitting in the car while Brian was pumping gas. As usual, Ella was crying, while Cristina was trying to watch a movie. After a few minutes, I hear Cristina say, "Shut up." I turned around and she is staring at Ella. Then, she pulls her pacifier** out of her mouth and says, "I SAID shut up." I about died laughing. When Cristina realized Ella wasn't going to stop crying, she sighed, looked at me and said, "Will you turn it up?" (She was talking about the tv volume.)
*Mother's Diploma
**Don't judge. We don't have the energy to get Cristina to give up her pacifier.
Thursday, June 30, 2011
Living in the Moment
Brian totally called me out for yesterday's post. He said I wasn't living in the moment. So, I'm going to share a funny story from today. It might be just a little jab at Brian for calling me out. First, I have to share a little backstory.
In January, we made the decision that we could only handle four children, so we decided we needed an effective form of birth control. You know, something more effective than an IUD. Brian decided on a vasectomy. He went in and got snipped. He left with instructions to return with a sample after twenty emissions or six weeks whichever came first. (No pun intended.) That brings us to today's story.
Brian went in this morning to drop off his sample. When he is checking in at the lab, the receptionist is confused as to why he is bringing in a second sample. According to her records, a sample was received on March 2 - six weeks after his procedure. Brian tries explaining to her that this is not a second sample, while she keeps telling him that there is no order in the system for a second sample. (Perhaps she was confused as to why it has taken him five months to get one sample in.) Finally, exasperated, Brian says, "Listen, I have four kids at home, I could barely get this sample." That cracked the women up and she finally agreed to take it.
In January, we made the decision that we could only handle four children, so we decided we needed an effective form of birth control. You know, something more effective than an IUD. Brian decided on a vasectomy. He went in and got snipped. He left with instructions to return with a sample after twenty emissions or six weeks whichever came first. (No pun intended.) That brings us to today's story.
Brian went in this morning to drop off his sample. When he is checking in at the lab, the receptionist is confused as to why he is bringing in a second sample. According to her records, a sample was received on March 2 - six weeks after his procedure. Brian tries explaining to her that this is not a second sample, while she keeps telling him that there is no order in the system for a second sample. (Perhaps she was confused as to why it has taken him five months to get one sample in.) Finally, exasperated, Brian says, "Listen, I have four kids at home, I could barely get this sample." That cracked the women up and she finally agreed to take it.
Wednesday, June 29, 2011
Little House on the Praire
I hope you aren't expecting a post about the Ingalls family. This isn't really about the Ingalls. It's just one of my crazy thought chains. I was randomly thinking about Little House on the Praire, which got me thinking about family. Then, I got depressed because we don't live near family. It made me wish I could move closer to family. Or better yet, my family could all move to Atlanta. That would be perfect.
It's tough raising children without family nearby. The kids don't have cousins nearby to play with or grandparents who can come to school plays and dance recitals. Brian and I have no one that we can drop the kids with on short notice, so we can go out on our own. Sometimes it feels really lonely. Well, as lonely as you can feel with a house full of children.
When I was a kid, I grew up in the same town as both sets of grandparents and a mess of aunts, uncles, cousins, and extended family. We were always going to Grandma's house for dinner - feasting on fried chicken and macaroni and cheese. We spent summers playing outside with our cousins where we created all sorts of crazy games. We watched old movies with my grandparents - Gone with the Wind, The Sound of Music, and The Parent Trap.
It makes me sad that my kids won't have the same experiences. If only we lived on a big homestead out on the praire.....
It's tough raising children without family nearby. The kids don't have cousins nearby to play with or grandparents who can come to school plays and dance recitals. Brian and I have no one that we can drop the kids with on short notice, so we can go out on our own. Sometimes it feels really lonely. Well, as lonely as you can feel with a house full of children.
When I was a kid, I grew up in the same town as both sets of grandparents and a mess of aunts, uncles, cousins, and extended family. We were always going to Grandma's house for dinner - feasting on fried chicken and macaroni and cheese. We spent summers playing outside with our cousins where we created all sorts of crazy games. We watched old movies with my grandparents - Gone with the Wind, The Sound of Music, and The Parent Trap.
It makes me sad that my kids won't have the same experiences. If only we lived on a big homestead out on the praire.....
Tuesday, June 28, 2011
The Long Commute
If you've spent any time around me, you know I have a long commute because I'm always whining about it. Waaaaaahhhhh....I have to leave my house at the crack of dawn to ride to the bus stop to catch the bus to catch the train to finish with a brisk walk to work. Waaaaaaahhhh....I have to do it in reverse to get home. I spend a lot of time traveling with the other commuters in the Atlanta metro area.
In my quest to live in the moment and not dream about the day that I have a helicopter and personal pilot to drop me at work, I've been thinking about the perks of public transportation. I've determined the main perk is the opportunity for people watching. I've been riding the MARTA for almost two years and I have a few favorites on my daily route.
There is the man who works for the water department. He has gigantic ears, a long ponytail and a giant bald spot in the middle of his head. I'd really like to tell him that the long hair does not distract from the bald spot. In fact, it makes it a little more obvious.
There is the woman with an abundant amount of hair who jumps out of her seat when the train reaches the end of the line. She rushes to the door often knocking people with her bag, so she can be the first off the train. For the longest time, I thought she was the rudest person ever. Last week, she was sitting next to me and told me that she likes this particular seat because she can get off the train fast. She said that she is afraid of being in the middle of the crowd when going down the stairs to the exit. Okay.
However, my personal favorite is Jeffrey Dahmer. Well, not THE Jeffrey Dahmer, but a guy that bears a resemblance. For the longest time, Brian and I were calling this guy Jeffrey Dahmer. Jeff has a habit of staring at people on the bus. One day, I told Brian he was staring at me - probably thinking that my breasts would make a nice snack and my hips would be great on the barbeque. Well, one day, something happened that really made me think I commute with Jeffrey Dahmer.
It's Friday morning and Jeff is at the bus stop with a cooler. He gets on the bus in front of me and the driver says, "ahh, you got some cold ones in there?!" Jeff responds as if he is not amused at the idea, "It's nothing like that." Okay, you can't convince me that the cooler was filled with anything other than elbows and toes.
In my quest to live in the moment and not dream about the day that I have a helicopter and personal pilot to drop me at work, I've been thinking about the perks of public transportation. I've determined the main perk is the opportunity for people watching. I've been riding the MARTA for almost two years and I have a few favorites on my daily route.
There is the man who works for the water department. He has gigantic ears, a long ponytail and a giant bald spot in the middle of his head. I'd really like to tell him that the long hair does not distract from the bald spot. In fact, it makes it a little more obvious.
There is the woman with an abundant amount of hair who jumps out of her seat when the train reaches the end of the line. She rushes to the door often knocking people with her bag, so she can be the first off the train. For the longest time, I thought she was the rudest person ever. Last week, she was sitting next to me and told me that she likes this particular seat because she can get off the train fast. She said that she is afraid of being in the middle of the crowd when going down the stairs to the exit. Okay.
However, my personal favorite is Jeffrey Dahmer. Well, not THE Jeffrey Dahmer, but a guy that bears a resemblance. For the longest time, Brian and I were calling this guy Jeffrey Dahmer. Jeff has a habit of staring at people on the bus. One day, I told Brian he was staring at me - probably thinking that my breasts would make a nice snack and my hips would be great on the barbeque. Well, one day, something happened that really made me think I commute with Jeffrey Dahmer.
It's Friday morning and Jeff is at the bus stop with a cooler. He gets on the bus in front of me and the driver says, "ahh, you got some cold ones in there?!" Jeff responds as if he is not amused at the idea, "It's nothing like that." Okay, you can't convince me that the cooler was filled with anything other than elbows and toes.
Monday, June 27, 2011
Monday, Monday
Monday, Monday. Who doesn’t hate a Monday? The weekend is over and it’s back to work, school, routine. In my quest to enjoy the present this week, I’m going to refrain from wishing for Friday and embrace Monday.
It got me thinking about who might like a Monday. Being the chronic dieter that I am, I realized that Mondays are great days for dieters. Everyone seems to think that Monday is the perfect day to start a diet. On Mondays, dieters everywhere pack their lunch - salad, an apple, and some bottled water- and throw their gym shoes into their bags. Monday is a day of resolve. They won’t be tempted by the doughnuts by the coffee machine or the call of the snack machine at 3:00 p.m. On Monday, they’ll eat their perfect lunch and go for a run. Oh, Monday, so full of hope for a lean and fit body.
Monday is so far away from Thursday when, exhausted from the week, dieters will have “just one” muffin, scrounge in their desk drawers for an old bag of candy, order fast food on the way home from work and eat their kids' left over french fries. The gym shoes won’t leave the bag on Thursdays because of some urgent meeting or other excuse. The resolve of Monday is long gone.
So, today, I am embracing Monday in all its hopefulness, carrot sticks and celery.
Sunday, June 26, 2011
How old do I have to be?
Emma, aged 6: How old do I have to be to get my license?
Me: 16
Emma: Can't I be 12?
Emma is always asking how old she has to be for different things. For example, how old do I have to be to walk to the bus by myself? How old do I have to be before I can watch The Suite Life? How old do I have to be to stay home by myself? And, my personal favorite, how old do I have to be to get an iPhone? (Answer: when she can pay for it herself!)
It's funny how we obsess about the future and things that we don't have now. I find myself playing my own "how old will I be?" game. For example, how old will I be when I can go to the bathroom without uninvited guests? How old will I be when I can have an uninterrupted conversation with my husband? How old will I be when I can sleep in on Saturdays again? How old will I be when I lose all this baby weight?
In case you didn't notice, most of those questions come up because I have a house full of little girls. These sweet darlings demand quite a bit of attention and their need is greatest when my bladder is full. This weekend, I found myself wondering when the questions about the future start to fade away and are replaced by "I remember when" stories. If it isn't the future we are thinking of, it is the past we are remembering. When do we stop and just enjoy the present? I'm going to challenge myself to spend a little more time enjoying the present this week.
Me: 16
Emma: Can't I be 12?
Emma is always asking how old she has to be for different things. For example, how old do I have to be to walk to the bus by myself? How old do I have to be before I can watch The Suite Life? How old do I have to be to stay home by myself? And, my personal favorite, how old do I have to be to get an iPhone? (Answer: when she can pay for it herself!)
It's funny how we obsess about the future and things that we don't have now. I find myself playing my own "how old will I be?" game. For example, how old will I be when I can go to the bathroom without uninvited guests? How old will I be when I can have an uninterrupted conversation with my husband? How old will I be when I can sleep in on Saturdays again? How old will I be when I lose all this baby weight?
In case you didn't notice, most of those questions come up because I have a house full of little girls. These sweet darlings demand quite a bit of attention and their need is greatest when my bladder is full. This weekend, I found myself wondering when the questions about the future start to fade away and are replaced by "I remember when" stories. If it isn't the future we are thinking of, it is the past we are remembering. When do we stop and just enjoy the present? I'm going to challenge myself to spend a little more time enjoying the present this week.
Saturday, June 25, 2011
I have a reading problem
I feel like I need a version of AA for book lovers. My name is Kristina and I am a reader. I love to read. I will read most anything. I would say everything, but a few weeks ago, I discovered a book that was so awful that I couldn't convince myself to keep reading it. It was one of those self-published books, signed by the author himself and given to me free of charge. Thank goodness I did not pay money for it. It was so awful - the ego jumped out of the pages and was really quite nauseating. Despite the fact that I was on the MARTA ride home, I could not compel myself to keep reading. I normally have the opposite problem.
Ever since I was a kid, I have been unable to put a book down once I start reading. This is the reason I am blind today. Seriously. I used to stay up long after I should have been to bed literally reading from the light from the telephone pole outside my bedroom window. Thankfully, our house was on the corner, so there was a decent amount of light. (Are those things called telephone poles anymore? I digress.) I would stay up until I was finished reading the book I'd started that day, no matter how long it took me. Thankfully, I'm a fast reader.
This is actually the reason that I am up late writing. I just finished reading The Handmaid's Tale, which I started reading on my train ride home yesterday. It is one of those books that makes you really think about things. It is kind of like 1984 in that it is in the future and shows what will happen if extreme elements take over. In this particular book, women have been forbidden to learn to read (the horror!) and are basically vessels to deliver babies. The woman telling the story makes the remark that is all happened so slowly - the changes were so gradual that people just accepted them. The reasons for the changes made sense at the time. They were lulled into believing the right decisions were being made for society. Things would be better, but they were only better for some, not all.
It made me think of gas prices. The prices rise sharply and we all moan and groan. Then, they start dropping a few pennies here and there. We are happy. What we don't realize, is that they are still way more than they were before, but we've been lulled into being happy about being given back a few pennies. It kind of creeps me out how easy it is for those with power and control to manipulate the masses.
And now, I have to stop thinking because it is late. In the morning, when my early bird children are awake watching The Voice at 6 a.m., I will greatly wish that I had gone to bed earlier.
Ever since I was a kid, I have been unable to put a book down once I start reading. This is the reason I am blind today. Seriously. I used to stay up long after I should have been to bed literally reading from the light from the telephone pole outside my bedroom window. Thankfully, our house was on the corner, so there was a decent amount of light. (Are those things called telephone poles anymore? I digress.) I would stay up until I was finished reading the book I'd started that day, no matter how long it took me. Thankfully, I'm a fast reader.
This is actually the reason that I am up late writing. I just finished reading The Handmaid's Tale, which I started reading on my train ride home yesterday. It is one of those books that makes you really think about things. It is kind of like 1984 in that it is in the future and shows what will happen if extreme elements take over. In this particular book, women have been forbidden to learn to read (the horror!) and are basically vessels to deliver babies. The woman telling the story makes the remark that is all happened so slowly - the changes were so gradual that people just accepted them. The reasons for the changes made sense at the time. They were lulled into believing the right decisions were being made for society. Things would be better, but they were only better for some, not all.
It made me think of gas prices. The prices rise sharply and we all moan and groan. Then, they start dropping a few pennies here and there. We are happy. What we don't realize, is that they are still way more than they were before, but we've been lulled into being happy about being given back a few pennies. It kind of creeps me out how easy it is for those with power and control to manipulate the masses.
And now, I have to stop thinking because it is late. In the morning, when my early bird children are awake watching The Voice at 6 a.m., I will greatly wish that I had gone to bed earlier.
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