Time Flies

Everyone knows from The Doctor that time is "like a big ball of wibbly wobbly... time-y wimey... stuff."

... and still I felt like as soon as I would start something an hour or two or three had passed with very little to show for it.

I have good intentions; I have plans; I set goals; I try to be reasonable about how much I can do without neglecting my other more immediate responsibilities. Some days I can zoom through. Lately, I think that I am working, maybe even thinking in S..L..O..W.. Motion.

Raking

Most of my days are spent with my daily work. There are very few activities like raking. I work hard. I give my best effort until I have blisters on my hands and my hip aches with arthritis. Then I finish up as best I can gathering the last leaves and putting the rakes and such away. When I look at my work the ground is still littered with acorns and leaves (I live in an oak hammock).

Coba Seas Fan at REO Speedwagon Concert

Coba Seas Fan at REP Speedwagon Concert at Busch Gardens Tampa Bay.

And the winners are ...

I watched the academy  awards tonight. I believe it was the first time that I hadn't seen any of the best picture nominees. I had seen a few movies last year: the last Harry  Potter, the Muppet movie, Mission Impossible.  We sat and watched the show for many hours. I can't help but thinking it's wasted time. I did some paper work for some of it since it's the end of the month but maybe I should consider skipping the shows and reading the results the next morning.

My Romantic Husband

For New Years Eve, I tried to have a romantic dinner. I went to a friends house and got dressed in my best dress that fits. She helped me straighten my newly cut and colored hair (by another friend). Her daughter helped me by putting on "smokey eyes" makeup. I even borrowed some wonderful perfume.  I planned a lovely dinner of steak, potato and salad with sparkling apple cider for the 4 of us (my darling husband and my 2 children). As I arrived home all the little girls four 5 and 6 year old girls come running to my car to tell me how pretty I look and how I smell nice. It was nice to be treated like a superstar. I bet this is how Dora the Explorer feels.

My friend that helped me get dressed asked me what my husband said about my dress-up for New Years Eve. Initially, my husband said nothing. As far as I can tell he doesn't even look at me. So I asked him how I looked and he said I looked "cute." Not exactly the look I was going for but it does explain why I am only attractive to 6 year old girls.

My friend then suggested that my husband wasn't romantic. See that's the funny thing, my husband is romantic. He is very romantic.

We met in August of 1987 and started dating soon after. We married in December of 1994. My darling husband is romantic. He is kind and thoughtful. He is generous and loving. In all those years, he has never forgotten an opportunity to give me a gift. He has even given me presents for HIS birthday. He has written me love letters. He has brought me flowers. He records TV shows that he thinks I'll like. He saves magazine articles for me to read. He sends me emails and texts each day offering information and words of support. Although he does tell me frequently that he loves me, he rarely comments on my appearance.

So is my husband romantic? Absolutely. Now for me, am I a romantic? That's another story for another day.

Secular Co-op Road Trip

H.O.P. Home School Co-op

Total we spend the day at a Home School Co-op. That's what its called. It isn't anything like how I pictured school co-operatives 13 years ago when I first read about them. I pictured 4 families getting together. Three parents would stay and one parent would have that time off or something like that. In the area that I live, there are many home school co-ops. Most are based on common religions. Those families keep their children out of the school system to reinforce their beliefs. We are secular home educators. I drive all over the place. Every other Tuesday I drive an hour for Camp Fire USA. Then twice more I drive an hour to two different secular co-ops.

Wish You Were Here!

With all that driving you would think that I would be tired of driving but I have found myself lately day-dreaming of my next road trip. I have to admit I was going to try to sneak in a trip to the snow this winter. Apparently there will be no winter so that may have to wait. My daughter wants to go camping again in the Florida Keys. We went early last summer. I really wish I had sent a post card that said "Drove through the night Thursday night with the kids fighting the whole way. Friday morning, it was so hot that I thought I was going to pass out as I set up the tent. Friday night, the seam in our air mattress broke and quickly left us sleeping on the ground. Saturday morning, I got stung by a wasp on my leg. Saturday afternoon I brushed my back and arms against Fire Coral as I was snorkeling. Then Sunday morning it started to rain as we were packing.
Having a great time wish you were here."

Not Knots!

A couple of days ago we were at the beach. We lost our raft. We had used a granny knot to secure the anchor line. Guess what? A granny knot will not hold an anchor line. Luckily we were able to find the line and with only two attempts I was able to recall a bowline. So I decided that we would start practicing knots. We started with the Bowline. We are practicing it everyday. My son and I are going to master these knots. I should have known better. And how cute is it anyway to see my 4 year old tying a bowline.

My Nursing History

My circle is widely varied. I know women who didn't nurse at all. They didn't even try. They had no desire to try. I know women who nursed their children till they were 6 years old. I know women who nursed their children for some amount in-between.

When I was pregnant I really didn't give much thought to nursing except that since it was best for the child I would give it a shot. I only really knew one women who had nursed, or at least nursed around me. Beth Wright in Louisiana in the early 1980s. I had baby-sat her two sons who were about 2 and 3 years old at the time, Brandon and Matthew. She not only nursed her toddlers, she also had a family bed. Both ideas seemed reasonable to me but seemed to shock some of our mutual friends.

So, I gave birth and started to nurse. I had trouble. I knew there was something wrong because there just weren't enough dirty diapers. He was dehydrated. I attended La Leche League Meetings. The women there were very kind and helpful. I learned how to nurse more successfully for me. Strangely (or not so strangely) I ended up nursing the way felt most comfortable to me instead of what all the books said. I nursed on one side for each sitting. The next time we nursed we would nurse on the other side. Just that simple and baby thrived.

At the La Leche League Meetings I learned about child led weaning. Child led weaning begins when your child is interested in food. It is completed when your child no longer asks to nurse.

Even though I just started out giving it a try, after 3 years I was still nursing my first child. He had been nursing just once a day, just to fall asleep at night when I ended nursing. One day my breasts were really tender. I explained to my child how they hurt to touch them and how I didn't think I could nurse hime to sleep. He only asked the one night and never asked again.

My second child was another story. At her birth, I had some trouble. Again La Leche League members gave me good advice from their own experiences. We had thrush and once that was cleared up we were a happy nursing team.

She nursed more frequently than my son but she thrived. At four years old, for my own sanity, I had to persuade my daughter to give up night-time nursing. She did not reduce the number of nursing sessions per day as my first child had. She only changed the timings of the sessions to all day time nursings. Instead of feeling like I was caring for my daughter and enjoying the one-to-one and that unique closeness I was still tired and feeling trapped. So I started asking other moms around at the park one day. One of friends said she had bribed one of her sons out of nursing with a truck that he wanted. On the way home, I just asked my daughter if there was something that she would trade for nursing. She was quick to answer, she wanted a big prize from Target (a department store). I told her when she had stopped nursing after one week we would go to Target for a big prize. That was it, she was a little nervous later that first day but that night was fine. I took her to Target a week later. We went up and down every toy isle but she couldn't find anything that was right. Target didn't have any dresses (the employee said that they were out of season). I took her to Bealls (another department store) where she picked out two very fancy dresses and a pink scarf.

P.S. She didn't ask to nurse again until she was sick (once in February and then again in May) and was easily comforted by sitting on my lap.

No more na-na at nigh-nigh Part 2

So with much guilt and tears I started telling my daughter on Saturday that Wednesday would be the last day that she could nurse at night. I chose Wednesday because that was the day that she has ballet class and I knew that day would stand out. I wanted to give her fair warning but not dwell on it. Each day I spoke to her about it and answered any questions she brought up. She was worried about still being my baby. She really wants to still be my baby so I assured her that she will always be my baby even when she is old. She was worried about falling asleep and I told her that she will be safe and we will all be there to help her.
On Wednesday she asked to nurse very frequently. I bet she nursed 10 times that day, just for comfort. I sewed her a little pink satin pillow cover that she could hold on to at night. We read several books then I sang lullabies to her. That night she cried for about a half an hour but went to sleep clutching the pillow. She woke up once around 3am and it started all over again. I sang to her again and she cried for another half an hour before falling back to sleep.
Thursday was worse. She cried several times during the day about not being able to nurse at night and she woke up three times during the night and it took 20-30 minutes each time to get her back to sleep.
Friday was better. She still nursed during the day but that night even though she cried to go to sleep initially when she woke up during the night she was comforted just with the lullabies.
By the following Wednesday, she was not asking to nurse at night at all and not waking during the night either.
Finally after 4 years, I got 8 hours of continuous sleep.

No more na-na at nigh-nigh Part 1

So I found myself starting to feel depressed. It really wasn't sudden. In fact, it had been a gradual decline. I knew that I was becoming more and more depressed by how easily I began to cry. I have always cried easily AND I cry when I am happy and when I am sad. I had been crying any time music was playing. At first, I noticed that the Beatles' "Happy Birthday" song brought me to tears. But honestly, did I have some sad memory from my childhood that only the song could surface? I just didn't know. But when Smash Mouth 's song "Hey Now You're A Rockstar" brought me to tears. I really started to wonder about my sanity or at the least my stability.
Luckily, I thought, I need to talk to someone and I did. I called a friend who listened and then innocently asked, "hey are you still nursing at night?"
Well, I certainly was, and nursing every 1 to 2 hours every night sure was tiring. My daughter is 4 years old. I had no idea that at 4 she would still be nursing this frequently and for whatever reason I cannot sleep through her nursing. So...
I'll right more tomorrow.

Life on Life's Terms

One thing that really bothers me is how important it is for me to find like minded individuals. Especially when many of my ideas are a little outside of the box. My education is in Engineering so these are just my personal observations. I have noticed that there are people like me who need groups and people who don't. I am married to someone who I believe could live in a cave. I need daily interaction with other adults. I need to have interaction where no one is tugging on my shirt tale or asking me where their shoes are.

Hectic Month

For some reason March Madness really hits home for me. It isn't that I spend all of my waking time choosing my pick for the final four. March just always finds me pressed for time. We have birthday invitations, family commitments, extra work, bookkeeping and tax documentation, The 12 Hours of Sebring, Camp-outs and other sundries pulling me in a 100 different directions. This particular year, I am out-of town all four Saturdays and three Sundays.

I just cannot remember. Didn't I make choices so that my life wouldn't be so frantic?

Goldie Locks and the Three Bears

Both of my children enjoy being read to and having stories told to them. It bothers me that most of the TV shows and books have lost the morals of the stories. Of course some stories do not have morals really but if they did why not introduce them back into the story. Also, some of the stories that I grew up with, like Goldie Locks and the Three Bears, I did not like the moral that I hear so I have added a little here and there to make a better story. When I was growing up I thought that the moral of Goldie Locks and the Three Bears was that if you are Blond-Haired Blue-Eyed Girl you can break-in, steal, and destroy other peoples property with no consequences. While it may be true to some degree, this is not the kind of ideals I want to repeat, over and over to my children.

Goldie Locks and the Three Bears

Once upon a time there was a little girl who was lost in the woods. She had been walking all night and was scared, lost, tired, hungry and chilled all the way to her bones. As she walked, the sun started to rise and she also started to smell something delicious. She let the smell lead her to a lovely cottage that was adorned just like a doll's house would be. She went to the door and knocked and as she knocked the door opened because it hadn't been shut well. She called, "hello, is anyone home?" but no one answered. She called again and as she leaned in she could see the table with 3 bowls sitting there with the steam rising out of them. She went in inside slowly calling again but when no one answered she sat down at the table in front of the biggest bowl. She stirred the big bowl of oatmeal. As hungry as she was, she knew she could never finish all of that oatmeal so she slid over to the next chair. She stirred the medium sized bowl of oatmeal. Again she looked at the size of the bowl. It was smaller than the first but it was still more than a little girl could eat. The third and last bowl however was the smallest of all and looked just right. She sat down and ate the whole bowl of oatmeal. The oatmeal not only made her feel full it also made her feel warm and the tiredness of all that walking really started to set in. She went into the next room and started to sit down. The first chair was huge and overstuffed. Goldilocks felt like she was swallowed up in it. It was too soft. The second chair was smaller but as she sat down she realized there was no stuffing at all. It was too hard. The third chair was the smallest. It looked like it had been made for a child. As she sat down, she must have sat down too hard because the chair crumbled under her weight. Now she cried because she had broken such a beautiful chair. She was so tired and lost and alone. She noticed a loft and climbed up to find three beds. The first bed was huge. She climbed in and found it was too soft. The second bed was smaller but it was too hard. The third bed was the smallest of all. She laid down and fell right to sleep.

Once upon a time there were three bears: a great big Pappa Bear, a medium sized Mama Bear and a little bitty Baby Bear. Mama Bear got up, as she did every morning, and made them each some oatmeal. As she looked out the window she remembered seeing ripe blackberries nearby and she convinced Papa Bear and Baby Bear to join her for a walk to collect black berries while their oatmeal cooled. They had a great walk and even Baby Bear collected more berries than he ate. Right away as they returned to their storybook home, they knew something was wrong when the door stood wide open. Pappa Bear exclaimed in his loud deep Pappa Bear voice, " someone has been eating my oatmeal." Mamma Bear exclaimed in her medium Mamma Bear voice, "someone has been eating my oatmeal." Then Baby Bear cried in his squeaky Baby Bear voice, "someone has been eating my oatmeal and it's all gone!" They walked into the sitting room where Pappa Bear exclaimed in his loud deep Pappa Bear voice, " someone has been sitting my chair." Mamma Bear exclaimed in her medium Mamma Bear voice, "someone has been sitting my chair." Then Baby Bear cried in his squeaky Baby Bear voice, "someone has been sitting my chair and it's all broken!" After looking around for a minute quietly they decided to look in the loft. Pappa Bear exclaimed in his loud deep Pappa Bear voice, " someone has been sleeping in my bed." Mamma Bear exclaimed in her medium Mamma Bear voice, "someone has been sleeping in my bed." Then Baby Bear cried in his squeaky Baby Bear voice, "someone has been sleeping in my bed and she still is!"

Maybe it was the squeaky sound of Baby Bear's voice but Goldie Locks startled right up. There she was sitting before three wild bears. She was more afraid than ever. She turned and looked out of the open window and she could see part of the forest that she recognized. She leaped from the loft window and ran as fast as she could.

Late that winter as the bears still slumbered in their hibernation, Goldie Locks returned to the little cottage. She planted several cherry trees, and blackberry and blueberry bushes. Then she left a new chair a little bigger than the one she had broken.

She was so sorry for all the damage she had done and she so wanted to thank the bear family. Without them she may have been lost in the woods forever.

The End.