This is the first time that this class (since there are TWO classes in the bilingual program Bruise and Bucket are in. I was in Bucket's class last week, where NONE of the kids remarked on my hair. This group I was with, though, in Bruise's class, is a little more observant) has noticed that I dyed my hair.
Girl 1: Hi, Bruise's mom ... wha... your hair. It's different.
Girl 2: Yeah. What happened to it? It wasn't like that ...
Me: Oh, yeah! You're right. I needed a change, so I colored it.
Girl 2: Like, with markers? *mimes painting her hair*
Me: *smiles* No, not with paint. It's permenant, with dye. It'll stay until I make it a different color.
And the girls were just boggled. It was cute.
Just like, about a decade ago, when I was student-teaching in a Kindergarten classroom. And I had colored my hair ... then toned it WAY down before going to the classroom:
Boy: MizCoz [what the kids called me], did you dye your hair?
Me: *sheepishly touching the ends of my hair* Yeah.
Boy: *matter-of-factly* My mom does that. *goes back to playing*
Kids can be really fun.
Then I went home and Mom headed back to her home. I read a few blogs and got caught up on Facebook, ate lunch, and then went to take a bath as Bubbles was waking up.
(Bubbles did NOT take any good naps on Wednesday. But she was well-behaved enough while we went to a few stores and the book fair at the kids' school ... where Bruise and Bucket made out like bandits. Yes, proof that they are my kids.)
Got out of the bath ... and got dressed, got the munchkin up out of her crib, and just puttered around until the kids got home from school.
With a certain monthly occurrence, I also lose the ability to sleep well or deeply. So, yeah, I was starting to really feel fuzzy-headed. But I had the kids help me clean up toys in the front room. And Mom had helped me get caught up on dishes. And I was only a little behind in laundry ... until (TMI ALERT, but -- well-- I have no shame, so here goes) I leaked through my pad (well, more like, it shifted enough/wasn't in the right place enough) to leak onto the fitted sheet, the flat sheet, AND a down comforter. YEAH. SUCKS.
So (TMI ALERT OVER), I needed to do MORE laundry.
And then, after Michael got home, we had a little flurry of activity
- Make dinner (quesadillas -- quick and easy, for the most part, as long as the pan isn't too hot/cold)
- Take a phone call and help a friend with ideas for a Harry Potter-themed cake, because, as she stated, "I'm a MUGGLE!" (She hasn't read the books/watched the shows, but her daughter HAS read about half of the series and seen a couple of the movies. ... And Michael and I are more confirmed Potter-heads ... So, between the two of us, we're a decent resource. ^_^)
- Report some Visiting Teaching (I NEED to get it take care of before we have vacation. I don't want my sisters to feel neglected!! Especially since two of them are new to me!)
- Get the kids ready for bed ... which is where our next bit of "excitement" occurs ...
So, as we're reading scriptures (1 Nephi in the actual scriptures, not just in the scripture storybooks), I look from where I'm sitting in Bruise's bunk at the shelf ... and there are chocolate milk cartons.
A LOT of them.
The kids are NOT allowed to have food/drink in their room. (They don't throw it away or bring dishes back. And, well, they're messy.)
A LOT of them.
The kids are NOT allowed to have food/drink in their room. (They don't throw it away or bring dishes back. And, well, they're messy.)
The kids get chocolate milk to take to school for lunch. Which they always drink it at school.
I was noticing that it seemed like we had JUST bought chocolate milk (the day before Easter) ... but it seemed like we were running out really quickly.
Because the kids were NOT ASKING when they STOLE them.
Both Michael and I were ... well, to be perfectly blunt, we were pissed off.
This isn't the first time the kids have stolen food.
It'd be ONE thing if they were taking food because they were sincerely hungry and I just wasn't doing my motherly/parental duty ... but this? This isn't because of that. It's because they WANTED chocolate milk and they didn't want to ask and chance me telling them "no," which I WOULD have, because THOSE are for school lunches.
I told them that this was WRONG. We were DONE. And when THEY start paying for food, THEN they can start eating it whenever without asking.
It's so TRYING to get lessons like these to stick in their heads.
I think that I need to get something delicious for them and then eat it all up before they get it.
And buy a soda and drink it all in front of them. Maybe MULTIPLE sodas.
Because just TELLING them is NOT getting through to them ...
But ... is that what I NEED to do in how to teach them?
It'd be a whole lot easier if I believed in lots of spankings. But, for the most part, I don't spank my kids a lot. I might give them a swat on the butt for sassing back ... but not a whole lot of spanking.
Because the kids were NOT ASKING when they STOLE them.
Both Michael and I were ... well, to be perfectly blunt, we were pissed off.
This isn't the first time the kids have stolen food.
It'd be ONE thing if they were taking food because they were sincerely hungry and I just wasn't doing my motherly/parental duty ... but this? This isn't because of that. It's because they WANTED chocolate milk and they didn't want to ask and chance me telling them "no," which I WOULD have, because THOSE are for school lunches.
I told them that this was WRONG. We were DONE. And when THEY start paying for food, THEN they can start eating it whenever without asking.
It's so TRYING to get lessons like these to stick in their heads.
I think that I need to get something delicious for them and then eat it all up before they get it.
And buy a soda and drink it all in front of them. Maybe MULTIPLE sodas.
Because just TELLING them is NOT getting through to them ...
But ... is that what I NEED to do in how to teach them?
It'd be a whole lot easier if I believed in lots of spankings. But, for the most part, I don't spank my kids a lot. I might give them a swat on the butt for sassing back ... but not a whole lot of spanking.
My mom gave me cold showers ... and I wish that THAT was still an option, too. Because, face it, discomfort is ... well, it's not pleasant. And you GET, really quickly, that you want to avoid actions that bring it about.
Whereas, with what's left to me ... talking, I have to REALLY work at avoiding just yelling at them or saying anything TOO hurtful.
Hell, I should just burst into tears and let THAT freak them out. But I hate doing that. ... even though, holding it together makes me want to cry for most of the night. Ugh.
Being an adult is haaaaaaaard!!!!
Being a parent is HAAAAAAAAAAAAARD!!!!
But it's not like I can just quit. Which I really, really find a tempting option at times.
But, well, I love my kids. Sometimes I love them a WHOLE LOT MORE than others.
And, let's face it, we can only afford SO much therapy for them.
Whereas, with what's left to me ... talking, I have to REALLY work at avoiding just yelling at them or saying anything TOO hurtful.
Hell, I should just burst into tears and let THAT freak them out. But I hate doing that. ... even though, holding it together makes me want to cry for most of the night. Ugh.
Being an adult is haaaaaaaard!!!!
Being a parent is HAAAAAAAAAAAAARD!!!!
But it's not like I can just quit. Which I really, really find a tempting option at times.
But, well, I love my kids. Sometimes I love them a WHOLE LOT MORE than others.
And, let's face it, we can only afford SO much therapy for them.
If you want to say some extra prayers for me and mine ... especially what frayed threads of sanity are left to me, I'd appreciate it. I'd also be grateful, if you don't LIKE praying, if you just send some good muju or thoughts or positive energy or whatever.
Because, between my kids and the angry bees in my head that hate me (Thanks, Mother Nature! Your gift sometimes REALLY sucks! But, for the other three weeks of each month, being a girl is not too shabby!), I am not feeling as fabulous as I could feel.
Well, today is a new day. The kids are cleaning their room ... instead of us going to work with Michael.
We had plans that we'd go down with him ... then I'd take the kids to play at a local park (if it wasn't too cold/wet). After a bit, we'd go to a local kids' museum (Bubbles LOVES the ball pit there) and play. Then, after we picked up Michael, we might go out to lunch or ice cream.
BUT, because Bruise and Bucket made a poor decision, we aren't doing that. Which sucks.
Michael and I were looking forward to it.
Heck, I almost thought of cancelling our vacation because things are NOT getting any better.
(But, as Michael put it, "why punish ourselves?" ... And this is a multiple-family event. ... So, yeah, I NEED some more prayers to help me know how to best instill honesty in all things into the kids.)
This is not how I pictured spending my first weekend of being 32. I kind of thought it might involve a lot more smiling. And less crying and feeling lost at sea.
Anyone wanna run to the store for me? I'm in my jimjams and NEED a couple pints of Ben and Jerry's or Hagen Daaz ... I need to get chip-faced. Maybe I should pull out the big guns and get something with coffee and Irish cream flavours. ... Yeah. It's been a rough 14 hours.
*headdesk*
*headdesk*
*headdesk*
: expletive:
(No, really. I've been taking to saying "expletive" when frustrated. I feel like I'm not TOTALLY cussing. But I don't have to actually USE any swears. And, well, I SHOULD cut down on how often I say "crap." For the children. Punk-butts that they are.)
Because, between my kids and the angry bees in my head that hate me (Thanks, Mother Nature! Your gift sometimes REALLY sucks! But, for the other three weeks of each month, being a girl is not too shabby!), I am not feeling as fabulous as I could feel.
Well, today is a new day. The kids are cleaning their room ... instead of us going to work with Michael.
We had plans that we'd go down with him ... then I'd take the kids to play at a local park (if it wasn't too cold/wet). After a bit, we'd go to a local kids' museum (Bubbles LOVES the ball pit there) and play. Then, after we picked up Michael, we might go out to lunch or ice cream.
BUT, because Bruise and Bucket made a poor decision, we aren't doing that. Which sucks.
Michael and I were looking forward to it.
Heck, I almost thought of cancelling our vacation because things are NOT getting any better.
(But, as Michael put it, "why punish ourselves?" ... And this is a multiple-family event. ... So, yeah, I NEED some more prayers to help me know how to best instill honesty in all things into the kids.)
This is not how I pictured spending my first weekend of being 32. I kind of thought it might involve a lot more smiling. And less crying and feeling lost at sea.
Anyone wanna run to the store for me? I'm in my jimjams and NEED a couple pints of Ben and Jerry's or Hagen Daaz ... I need to get chip-faced. Maybe I should pull out the big guns and get something with coffee and Irish cream flavours. ... Yeah. It's been a rough 14 hours.
*headdesk*
*headdesk*
*headdesk*
: expletive:
(No, really. I've been taking to saying "expletive" when frustrated. I feel like I'm not TOTALLY cussing. But I don't have to actually USE any swears. And, well, I SHOULD cut down on how often I say "crap." For the children. Punk-butts that they are.)
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