WTH Wednesday: Train Derailment

I call it my Daily Cadence.  The way my day goes.  Mostly it has to do with my internal life; the thoughts spinning about my cranium, arranging themselves any-which-way till I beat them into submission or brain-dump them onto paper.

Sometimes, it's also physical.  The pace of life.  The way we roll.  First we make the bed, then we get dressed...

When I say "we," I don't really mean My Hero.  I mean Mommy, Monkey and Manatee.  How we function day-to-day.  How we manage to get out of the house in the morning, how I manage to get dinner on the table most days and laundry done before it stinks (gah!).

The thing is, I talk to myself a lot.  Now that I live with people, my monologue has gone inward.  Which means I am the silent narrator.  I'm commenting on life in general, mixed in with planning next steps for the day, week, year.  What's for dinner? Did I say the right thing to Kelly today? Are these pants really worth trying to repair? ... all jumbled in there.

But then... horror of horrors: the constant, or at least predictable rhythm of interruption - the children.

Look, I don't expect my life to be silent and orderly.  I have kids.  I get that.  I also don't expect to complete all tasks without interruption with anyone else at home with me (including My Hero). What frustrates the POO outta me, though, is when I go an entire day without 1. finishing a task, or much worse 2. finishing a complete thought.  I call this "Train (of thought) Derailed" and it makes Mommy VERY, VERY cranky.

Example:  I have a "No Talking To Mommy When She's In The Basement" rule. Why? Because I have counted ... and I get anywhere from 2 to 4 minutes from hitting that last step until someone is at the top of the stairs.  Calling out Moooooooooommmy?  Mom?  Followed by a request (food), a tattle (he's climbing on the furniture) or a random question (where did we get the sandbox?).  ALL I WANT TO DO IS PUT THE DRY CLOTHES IN A BASKET AND THE WET CLOTHES INTO THE DRYER, PUSH ALL THE BUTTONS AND GO UPSTAIRS.  Why, oh why, can I not do this?

It's like the Phone Phenomenon, which I think was more an issue for OUR moms; as soon as Mommy is on the phone, the kids go nuts.  Why? Attention.  They either want the attention or they feel they can get away with things because Mommy is distracted.  Now in the age of emails and cell phones, I think part of that phone traffic has been reduced.  But the issue remains - for me it's "Look, Mommy's attempting to be productive.  How can I reassert my very being into that equation?"

Yes, my children are more important than the housework!!  But that doesn't mean I relish the derailment.  There are small windows in the day wherein the children are playing quietly, or alone, or at least not fighting, and I sit, motionless and hostage, afraid to rise.  Like right now.  I have a load of laundry in the washer as I type.  Kiddos are playing (together! a miracle!) with Connectagons in the parlor.  If I were to cross their lines of sight, I GUARANTEE I would get that same 2-4 minutes before SOMETHING would go TERRIBLY wrong ("MOMMMMMM!   He took all the RED ones!!!  He won't let me have ANY!").

So why am I writing this? What do you care?  Well, I guess it's nice just to put into writing.  Why some days I am completely frustrated and defeated and confused and irritated.  It's because I can't (yes, you can have that) get a complete (I think it's in the top drawer) thought out.  (NO, YOU DO NOT NEED TO WEAR A COAT TODAY, IT'S 90 DEGREES!!!!)

Am I alone here?

Foto Friday: This Moment

{this moment} - A Friday ritual. A single photo - no words - capturing a moment from the week. A simple, special, extraordinary moment. A moment I want to pause, savor and remember. -SouleMama

"Chloe will see me and she'll say I look fabulous" -Z

Fun Fact: Babies are born without kneecaps.  They do not appear until the child reaches two to six years of age.

WTH Wednesday: Snackies

Snack snack snack

All day long

Snack snack snack

While I sing this song 
(with apologies to Adam Sandler, and you, dear reader, if you now have this song in your head.  What crap we listened to back in the day, eh?)


We just made it through a very looooong summer.  It was long because: 1. I have children  2. I have children  3. somewhere along the lines I ... birthed children.

Ok, so it wasn't THAT bad.  But we had daily disagreements on the following topics: 1. "don't annoy your brother" 2. "don't scream at your sister" 3. "go OUTSIDE" 4. "please wear SHOES outside" 5. "no, we are not watching television," and 6. "NO, you do NOT NEED TO EAT right now.  You just had  (insert meal
here).  Go play."

So now a break to pause and reflect on the Child Snack Culture.  If you're a Mommy, you know exactly what I'm talking about.  It was the first thing I heard about when we left my daughter's preschool: "What'd you do today?"  "We had a SNACK!" "uh huh. what ELSE did you do?"  Every day: The Snack Report.

We eat breakfast at 8:30.  Preschool: 9-11:30  We eat lunch at 12 ish.

Soccer: snack signups passed around at first meeting.  Soccer starts at 8:45 (we ate breakfast at 8).  Till 9:45.  Then, as kids leave the field, they grab a snack and a drink from the obedient parent volunteers and leave for home.

Gymnastics Camp: starts at 9, ends at 12.  We ate breakfast at 8:30. I am instructed by my daughter to be sure to bring a snack tomorrow ... "for after we're done."  As in, right before I pick her up.

Vacation Bible School: snack (THEMED, to boot).  Sunday School/Nursery: snack.  The extended care program for Kindergarten (two hours, tops, after the lunch I packed): snack.

According to the Pennington Biomedical Research Center:

"Snacks are important part of a child’s diet. It is important to understand that young children need more frequent meals than adults, and they need snacks between meals to support growth and development.  A mid-morning and a mid-afternoon snack can increase a child’s intake of dairy, fruits and vegetables.  When the snacks are planned, the child will most likely have a healthier snack. Also, having snacks will cut down on the feeling of hunger and less likelihood of overeating at mealtimes by going for second helpings." (emphasis mine)

I would love to increase my children's intake of nutrient-dense, low calorie (or even high fat, in terms of dairy) foods.  For them to be munching apple slices (sans the caramel dip, Puh-leaze), sesame sticks, organic yogurt (hold the hormones) or broccoli trees.  But in this over-processed, convenience-addicted, contaminate-paranoid, allergy-sensitive society, the snacks provided are shelf-stable carbs at best; dyes, HFCS and preservatives out the wazoo at worst.  Little Hugs? Cheetos?  Pudding from the shelf (as opposed to the cold, dairy section variety, which at least has a bit of redeeming nutritional content)?  "Rolled up sheets of fruit-flavored rubber that look suspiciously like wallpaper"? (Barbara Dale)

Look, I'm sympathetic to the snack idea.  It's a treat.  It's a bribe.  It's a break for the teacher/caregiver (BELIEVE ME, I'm sympathetic).  But an hour after they've had, hopefully, a nutritious, well-balanced meal at home? They can wait another 30 minutes.  Keep your Freezy Pop and pass the hummus, please.

It's the Little Things

A trip to the local hardware store made my day.  Perhaps even my week.

My mission: 100 washers.  You're going to laugh at me, but here goes...

My purpose: to put one on each hanger in my closet, so that when I wear something, I can take the washer off.  If the washer's still on at the end of the season, out it goes.  Yeah, 'cause I'm anal like that.

I know, I know!  I can turn the the hangers around.  I can put a piece of tape on the hanger.  I could put a rubber band around the hanger.  I could make a list of everything I wear every day (don't think I haven't considered it).  Sigh.

Anyway, I came up with the idea last night, and ran with it today.  I have never been to this hardware store before, and I was pleasantly surprised at how bright and clean it is.  The cashier-person (she could be the owner, for all I know?!) was very pleasant and helpful.  She counted out 100 washers.  It was the best $5 I've ever spent in days.

So as I practically skipped out of the store with my sack o' rings, I happened to turn my head to see ....

(Can you hear the angels singing?)  I have been looking for a Pyrex measuring pitcher forEVER.  (Ok, not ever.  For probably a week.  Still, when I obsess, I OBSESS.)  I needed something less clunky than my TWO cup measuring pitcher to use with my new kitchen gadget.  And there, sitting in the HARDWARE store (I'd been online a bunch of places, and Target ...), was the perfect, this-week's-problem-solving item.

Ahhhhh.

So I had to return to the cashier ... who, knowing the purpose of the rings, and seeing the ecstatic look on my face from finding a measuring device, surely thinks I'm a nutcase.  Oh, and she goes to my church, which means she can whisper and point the next time she sees me.  Oh well.  *grin*  I am in anal-retentive Type A OCD bliss.

Foto Friday: This Moment (on Saturday)

{this moment} - A Friday ritual. A single photo - no words - capturing a moment from the week. A simple, special, extraordinary moment. A moment I want to pause, savor and remember. -SouleMama

I Love This: Bananagrams

I am a Werd Nerd.

I love crosswords and word searches and even fill-ins.  I play the letter games on My Baby.  My second favorite game on Pogo.com is Word Whomp.  I play a mean Perquacky, Mad Gab, Last Word and Balderdash.

I despise, however, Scrabble.  People who recognize my love of language are sometimes surprised by this fact.

Here's my beef with Mr. A.M. Butts and his 1938 invention: I can come up with a b-e-a-Utiful word.  Use all my letters.  Even use a J.  BUT THERE IS NOWHERE ON THE BOARD TO PLAY IT.  So there it sits, turn after turn being scavenged to form "jet," "help" and "tide."  Yawn.  No one will ever know the brilliance sitting here, full of hope, in my letter tray, waiting for its chance to leap onto the Triple Word Box.  Rats.

Enter: Bananagrams!  The free-form Scrabble-like game in a banana bag.  Excellent!  Here's why I love this game:

1. Go at your own pace: you're not holding anyone up by trying to think of a word using your X.  Take all the time you need!

2. Clicky ivory-like tiles.  Very tactile.  I'm all about tactile.

3. No one's words are IN YOUR WAY.

4. No silly colored squares to trifle with.

5. No math.  Really. (well, unless you are going with tournament-style, and then I guess you track how many tiles the loser(s) have left).

6. PORTABILITY.  Big for me: tidy packaging.  No standard-sized board game box under your arm, announcing: "We are about to engage in a terribly annoying game that will take at least an hour!" as you walk into the room.  Nope, slide this puppy into a coat pocket and you can be Stealth Word Monger.

7. Quality: Yes, it's possible the zipper could die on the banana.  But you could just toss the letters into something fabulous like this.  What happens when you get coffee on the Scrabble board? a trip to Toys R Us.

8. Semi-even playing field: you don't have to know all the three-letter words that start with "e" to play your last tile.  You simply make what you know, and if you get stuck, you pull apart some other word and make something different.  If you don't naturally think of words like "conveyance," "naturalist" and "garbanzo," you can stick with "chairs," "package," and "train."  No problem.

I am a Bananagramma Mamma-Jamma.