Complaint for the Day

I seem to be a magnet for phone solicitors, no matter what I do. We registered for the National Do Not Call list,  I ask everyone who calls to take us off their list, I do not give my phone number out to anyone except people I actually want to talk to, and still my phone is plagued on a daily basis with aggravating interruptions from people who incorrectly pronounce our last name and try to manipulate me into buying things I don't want. It is 11:30 a.m. and there have been three already this morning. One insulted me for not agreeing to buy anything from their supposedly charitable organization (incidentally, I bought something from them before and I'm pretty sure their organization is a fraud, hence the refusal), the second tried to scam me into using their long-distance service, and the third I didn't answer.

I try to be nice, I really do. I used to work at a call center and I know they are just starving college students trying to earn some money, but honestly! If you're going to get me out of the shower and then ask for my husband by the wrong name, and tell me I already want what you have and you just need to verify my address, don't be surprised if I hang up on you with no further explanation than a curt, "No thank you."  If I wanted to change my phone service, my cable service, my mortgage company, or get a warrantee for my car I would initiate that process myself and do it at some time other than in the middle of eating dinner. And why is my phone number, my phone bill, and how many long distance calls I make per month anyone else's business in the first place?

While I'm at it, let me also note I spent almost an hour at the bank yesterday opening a fraud investigation on some unauthorized charges to our debit card. I'm sure everyone else was previously aware of this, but I only learned yesterday that allowing companies to take a monthly draw through your debit card is a bad idea. If you set up that arrangement for paying your bill, and then you cancel your service or subscription, they still have your card info and can make withdrawals without the bank flagging it as unusual activity. Fortunately for me, the bank believed my claim without asking for any documentation (and without chastising me for not noticing the charges sooner, which would've been deserved) and they are recovering the money. 

Moral of the story: keep your credit information to yourself as much as possible, and don't bother making a mad dash to answer the phone; it's just a telemarketer. 

I feel better now. Thanks for listening. 

South of The Border

(Sorry Amy R., you already know all this too :) 

Just as I started getting into the swing of things with school, Luke and I left for the Mexican Riviera.  Seth and Amy (Luke's sister and brother-in-law) joined us and we had a great time. We went for a whole week, which made me nervous in respect to leaving the kids, but they held up alright.

Despite hurricane season the weather gave us no problems and the resort was great; I love all-inclusives. We enjoyed golfing, swimming, reading, relaxing, snorkeling, site seeing, and eating - a lot. The first day we were there I slept in, took a nap, and went to bed early. In between I ate and read books and hardly moved from my pool-side lounge chair. All that sitting around wore me out so I slept in the next day too :) 

A really cool place we went was a state park called Xel-ha. We rode bikes through the jungle to get to the mouth of the river. Then we snorkled down the river to where it met the ocean. We saw the largest school of fish I've even seen.  It was almost hypnotizing to see how that group of thousands of fish could move and turn all together. Suddenly I decided it would be fun to try and swim into the middle of the school and be surrounded by all those fish.  I started to swim slowly down into the center of the mass only to be met by a jelly fish swimming slowly up out of it. Mental note to self - trying to swim through a school of fish is a bad idea.  

On the same day, we toured the site of some Mayan ruins. They were amazing and the scenery was beautiful. It was just so dang hot and there were mosquitos everywhere so we didn't linger too long.  One morning we enjoyed riding ATV's on the beach and in the jungle (well, mostly enjoyed - I was holding on for dear life most of the time). We saw an alligator in a marshy spot in the jungle but I was without a camera. Oh well.  We took  some wave runners out on the ocean and the water was so clear I got an irresistible urge to go snorkeling again.  We joined a short afternoon snorkel excursion and it turned out to be one of the best snorkel experiences we've ever had. There was so much to see everywhere and several species I don't believe we've seen before. I kept a nice distance from any large schools that time.

One of the highlights for me was the sea turtles. We were walking back from dinner and this baby sea turtle was flip-flopping it's way across the side walk. Seth tried to point it to the ocean but it kept turning around, so he picked it up and started carrying it to the beach. Then we saw another, and another. When we got to the beach hotel security was there with a bucket full of baby turtles they were taking to the ocean. Without the moon on the water, the turtles were confused by the hotel lights and couldn't find their way to the water. We picked them up and held them and took pictures. Then I thought, "Aren't these endangered, and therefore illegal to touch?" Woops. But at least we were trying to save them while we were touching them.

It was a great week but like all good things, it had to come to an end. Home was waiting and in some ways I was glad to see it. What can I say? There's no place like home. Although, when you're not home, on the beach in Mexico is a very nice runner-up. 

A Smart Mother

When a child in bed with a stomach ache promises, "I don't need a bowl. I'm not going to throw up," a smart mother would not believe them and go get the bowl anyway.

When a birthday party invitation arrives, a smart mother would write down all the information in her planner and post the invitation in a prominent place as a reminder, instead of misplacing the invitation and then wondering, "Was someone supposed to be somewhere today?" on the day of the party. 

When her husband is out of town and her children are asleep by 8:00, a smart mother would go to bed herself and not stay up until midnight blogging.

When she hears herself say, "I don't know if this is a good show for you to watch. I don't like the way they talk," a smart mother would go change the channel despite her children's cajoling protests.

When thinking back over the things she wishes she'd done differently, a smart mother will learn from her mistakes, laugh at herself, and above all, just be grateful that she is a mother. 

My Side of the Story (this is my longest post ever, but I wanted the details for myself. Sorry.))

August was one of those brief phases in life that you don't want to end but can't wait until it's over.  I was so glad to have time with the girls all home and I felt like the summer went too fast, but I was happy anticipating the great experiences they would have once school started. Mostly I needed to get all of us to the point where we were in a routine and over our fears. Particularly me.

After the class assignments came, I talked a lot of brave talk to my anxious little Madeleine, and then I found a quiet minute alone to personally freak out. Last June, a parent I met in a random encounter felt compelled to unload her negative opinion about Mrs. Johnson on me and encouraged me to take pains to avoid her. Since then I had feared the worst in regards to Madeleine's class assignment and now the worst was happening. I was also sad that Madeleine didn't have her friends in her class because I knew how important that was to her. I didn't know how help improve her perspective when the view didn't look too great from where I sat either. My first course of action was to email Luke in a panic. He replied in his typically unruffled tone, "Everyone has at least one weird teacher. She'll be fine." I sat on my bed in tears telling myself three things; 1) just because one kid and their parents didn't hit it off with this teacher doesn't make her a horrible person and an inexcusable educator. WE might like her even if they didn't. 2) I believe with all my heart that our Father in Heaven knows my daughter, her situation, and her needs. I have faith that He will watch over her and teach her what she needs to learn. If that means being in a class with a difficult teacher then He will help me to know how I can support Madeleine and bring to pass His will for her.  3) I'll watch that teacher like a hawk and if she makes one wrong move toward Madeleine so help me . . .

Beyond concern for Madeleine, I had been apprehensive for weeks about simply being able to pull this off. Getting everyone up, dressed, fed, out the door, homework done, papers signed, snacks packed, uniforms clean . . . for all three kids everyday - the thought of the physical demand had me scared sick. I became fully convinced that if I didn't live up to all of it everyday then their adjustment to school would be difficult and I would be at fault. How would they feel if they got to school and they didn't have what they needed? What would they do if I dropped them off at the wrong place or at the wrong time? What would they think if all the other kids knew what was going on and they didn't because I had forgotten to tell them? Going from one child in school to three  gave me a new empathy for the parents of twins. Instead of gradually easing into the next phase one child at time, we were jumping in two at once. On top of that, the one child who should already be comfortable regarding school was the most disconcerted!  For the next two weeks I tried to appear at my best and braced for the worst. 

I became an expert in subtle propaganda tactics. Suddenly, there were all kinds of reasons we needed to stop in at the school. I guided the girls through the hallways with butterflies in my stomach, hoping each visit would put them more at ease. When we went to the family picnic I was so tense I was literally sore by the time we got home. On "class gathering" day I was too anxious to go to the "parent reception" portion of the event. Who could eat a muffin at a time like that?!

By the conclusion of the back-to-school social events, I had stacks of forms to fill out and pictures to send in and the kids had "homework" that was supposed to go with them on the first day. The night before school I stayed up until midnight working on all the paperwork and printing photos that the teachers had requested. Finally, I made a decision; I was not going to do it. I would not be the mother who had everything completed, in order, and delivered on the first day. I would not. My kids would be there with or without their paperwork and the world would keep turning. Come to think of it, there's still a sheet from Mary's class I need to fill out around here somewhere . . . I set aside what was yet unfinished and tried, unsuccessfully for the most part, to sleep.

I teetered through the morning of the first day as though I  was keeping my balance on the edge of a cliff. Ok, maybe it wasn't THAT bad. More accurately, I felt as though I was only one wrong move away from completely unraveling. But, as you discovered in my post about the first day of school, we survived. I didn't even break down when I realized I was supposed to have brought Mary's book bag, although I came close for a second.  All in all, I really enjoyed the first day. I found it delightful to watch each girl as their distinctly different personalities were reflected in their reactions. Even with all my mom-guilt and fears of inadequacy, taking them to school was a joy. I am so grateful for their opportunities and so hopeful for the possibilities in their futures. The element of drama took it's toll though.  I brought Mary and Beth home at 11:00 and I went back to bed at 11:05 :) 

Dropping Beth off for her first day of class in Kindergarten was far less nerve racking than the previous day. She CELEBRATED going to school. Her expression was adorable beyond words as she entered the room, found her cubby, and went to her seat. She gushed and giggled and sighed blissfully, beaming with pride that she was now, officially, in school. I reveled in the moment and was so happy for her. I smiled all the way to the car and out of the parking lot. Then I cried the whole way home. My little girl, off to school and so big now. Exactly what do you call that feeling when the joy derived from loving your child squeezes your heart so tightly it hurts? Mary heard my sniffles and asked what was wrong. I answered, "I'm just a little sad because I am going to miss Beth while she is at school." (pause from the back seat) "Well, we're going to go get her and bring her home today!" "I know," I laughed, "I'll stop crying in a few minutes." (another pause) "You don't have to stop crying," Mary offered practically, "You can still eat when you are crying." Later, I noticed a message from Tori's mom. She had kindly called to commiserate with me, sharing that she was "having a sad moment" as she drove home. Her thoughtfulness in that moment couldn't have been more appreciated. 

The next day Mary had her first day of class. Her demeanor was subdued as she approached her cubby and she would not be coaxed into a smile for my ever-clicking camera. Not until I led her further into the classroom did it occur to me that I never prepared her for "extended day," the extra hour after her class when she would stay and have lunch. I hurriedly tried to explain the procedure as well as the reason (so I could collect her at the same time that Beth is dismissed), and finally left her in her teacher's hands.  Confident that Mrs. Kristie had things under control, I headed home, alone. The car had never felt so quiet. My thoughts seemed so loud they virtually echoed in my mind.  I made a mental note to start bringing my IPOD in the car with me. In the five years that I'd had it, I'd not yet connected it in the car. The girls chattering away from the back seats always provided enough background noise before. Without them the silence was odd.  Entering the quiet house was different though. I looked around, sighed with relief, and smiled slowly. Three hours, all to myself . . .

We've been in the school mode for several weeks now.  It's a daily scramble, as opposed to the controlled and orderly process I continue to envision, but we are happy. The routine is demanding but the structure is good for us. So far no one has gone without an essential item and I haven't forgotten to pick anyone up after school. And guess what? Madeleine's teacher is really great! (Moral of that story: if you don't like your kids teacher, keep it to yourself so you don't cause other people to lose sleep! ) Madeleine really likes her and I have found her to be professional, qualified, reasonable, creative, and helpful.  Beth is thriving and constantly announcing the beginning of new friendships. Mary has the "extended day" leaders wrapped around her finger and though she drags her feet and insists "it's boooring" she is smiling when I pick her up from school.

Thus begins a new phase for me and I'm not %100 sure how I feel about it yet. Previously, the next step was laid out before the last was taken - each school grade proceeded another, college followed high-school, a mission followed college, getting married was ahead as I left my mission behind,  and after each baby I anticipated another before long. Now here I am, dangling from the last link in that chain of events and wondering what comes next when your baby was your last.  Please don't misunderstand me. I'm at no loss as to how to fill my time. My question isn't with what, but in what order? Perhaps I should get my Master's, or start a part-time career, or become engulfed in a new hobby. Someday, maybe. For now, I'm beyond content to enjoy my children in this new phase of theirs, and occasionally take a nap:) 

After (the Big First Day and the First Week Reaction)

The night before school the girls were so keyed up they could hardly sleep. Madeleine was up past ten, just "thinking about school."  We had practiced getting up early and getting ready quickly, but it was hardly necessary. I went to wake up Beth and she blearily smiled, "Today is my first day of school mom!" and was up and at it in no time. Madeleine was less enthralled since waking up for school holds no novelty for her, but she still jumped to it. Mary was caught up in all the excitement but looked as though she still wasn't quite sure what all the excitement was about.  There was some hustle and bustle, but all went according to plan and we had plenty of time to snap a few pictures before we loaded in the car.  The first day was different for both Beth and Mary. Instead of a typical classroom day, they each had individual appointments with their teachers.  When I reminded Beth that she wasn't going to have class or recess, her face turned stony and she yelled,"That's not fair!" That's not fair!" She was good and ready for some kindergarten action and by golly, she was not going to be content until she got some. She toned down pretty quickly though. 

We dropped Madeleine off first. Her steps slowed as she got near the door, and she needed three hugs good-bye, but then she headed in like an old pro and didn't look back.  Beth and Mary explored the library with me until it was time for Mary's appointment. Trying to keep Mary entertained and relatively quiet while reading a book to Beth was a feat in and of itself, requiring my cell phone, a pack of gum, multiple lipsticks, and promises of food. 

Finally it was time to take Mary to her teacher. I was asked to stay in the room and fill out paperwork while Mary was guided around by one of the three teachers and introduced to the classroom routine. I didn't bring her little blue and yellow nursery-school standard book bag (it's not like she had anything to put in it yet anyway -cut me some slack!) so she used my purse to practice hanging her bag in her cubby. I had to smile when I heard her explain to the teacher, "There are lipsticks in there. That's ok."I was glad the teacher agreed that it was ok to have lipsticks in your bag or Mary may have formed a lasting grudge.  Mary seemed comfortable enough and was her usual talkative self. Before I could finish filling out the forms they had given me, she was done.  We took a break at a nearby McDonald's to wait for Beth's turn, where we called Grandma Rosie and played on the playground. 

Then it was time for Beth to go to her sort-of-first-day of Kindergarten. As we approached her classroom  She literally skipped  down the hall and bounced through the doorway. Her teacher remarked, "There's enthusiasm!" and for the next 30 minutes she had her teacher and her classroom all to herself. She was a proud little piper and I was happy for her.  Appointments complete, we went home for lunch and quiet time and before too long it was time to get Madeleine. She came bounding out grinning and exclaiming all kinds of things about her wonderful first day. (sigh of relief) One day down - one hundred and seventy nine more to go. . . 

Since that first day all three girls have done tremendously well adjusting to school and the routine. At the end of the second day (and her first day of class), when I went to pick up Mary, she greeted me by scolding "You weren't supposed to drive off without me!" I guess I didn't really explain that when she went to school I wouldn't be going with her. The third day she greeted me by moaning, "You leaved me and leaved me and leaved me here!!"  Once in that first week she did wake up and claim she didn't want to go to school, but the reminder that she needed to go trade her library book snapped her out of it and got her going. Last Friday I went to get her a little bit early, thinking she would be relieved not to be "leaved" there, but when I walked in she indifferently stated, "I haven't had my lunch yet" and left me waiting while she ate. 

Beth's expectations of Kindergarten so far have been met and exceeded. She likes to sleep in foam rollers and go to school with her hair curly. She looks forward everyday to going to her "specials" and she is pretty proud to have homework.  She has a best friend in class, Tori, and she is making more friends everyday. One day out of the blue she sighed, "I love school," and she told me that she can't believe she is in Kindergarten - that she tells herself over and over, "I'm in Kindergarten. I'm in Kindergarten and I'm not even 6 yet!" When the weekend finally came around Beth woke up on Saturday and was dissapointed to be reminded that it wasn't a school day. On Sunday night she exclaimed,"I'm so glad that in the morning I can wake up, get dressed, and ship right off to school!" She told me yesterday, "I had a fun day, and I get to keep having fun days, because everyday I get to do the same things!"

Madeleine's reaction to the first week of school was similar. One afternoon in the middle of homework she blurted out, "I LOVE third grade!" She always comes home with something that she is excited about from one of her classes - currently her hot topic is tracking a whooping crane re-population effort. Most of her friends from last year are not in her class this year so socially she is trying to get a feel for where she fits in with this new group, but that will come. She loves her teacher and says she is "sooooooo nice." 

We are soooooo glad that they are doing soooooo well. We're definitely off to a great start . . .

Before (The Weeks Leading Up To The First Day)

Summer is officially over. I don't know which was harder; saying good-bye to summer or saying hello to school. Thanks to uniforms, school shopping was painless, but the emotional fluctuation around here was more drastic than a theme park roller coaster. Throughout the summer Beth would cringe and whine whenever she heard mention of school. One morning she took something from Mary and got reprimanded. When I asked her why she snatched from her sister, she wailed, "Because she took it from me first and I DON"T WANT TO GO TO KINDERGARTEN!" Upon any such outburst, Madeleine would come to her aide with confident words of comfort and encouragement about how wonderful school is. She personally couldn't wait to get back to school. Any time we mentioned to Mary that she was going to go to school she reminded us that she was NOT going to school. Then, one fateful day, a fat envelope arrived containing the much anticipated class assignments. Madeleine was so excited you would've thought it was her college acceptance letter or something. She literally trembled waiting for me to open it. I read Beth the letter from her teacher first. She whimpered and sniveled through the whole thing, but the second that she heard her little friend Tori was in her class, her face lit up and she beamed, "I don't even know what all that fussing was about. I can't WAIT to go to kindergarten!" She happily skipped off to go try on her uniform. Madeleine read her letter with enthusiastic haste. She exclaimed, "I got Mrs. Johnson!" but while her face was smiling, her eyes were panicked. Of the three third grade teachers possible, that was the one she didn't want. Her grin became even more forced as she read through the class list and didn't recognize many names on it. She tried to act excited still, but by this time her eyes were brimming. She walked away soberly, and returned tearfully to confess that now she was afraid of school and didn't want to go. From then on SHE cringed when we mentioned school and she couldn't sleep for worrying about it. I read Mary's letter to her and she asked, " You mean I'M going to school??" Boy, did I have my work cut out for me. Over the next two weeks the tension mounted. Beth was still excited, Madeleine was still not, and Mary was still bewildered. I started finding reasons to stop in at the school and walk the girls through the halls. We called school friends and set up play dates. The Saturday before school we attended the family breakfast so that the girls could meet their teachers. That helped a little bit. Then during the week each girl got to attend a class party, with their teachers and classmates in their own classrooms. That helped a lot. By the weekend before school Beth was counting down the days and reminding me what she needed to bring for the first day. Now Madeleine couldn't sleep because she was missing school so much and wanted to go back so badly. Mary was all matter-of-fact about going to HER class, acting like it was something she'd been doing everyday for years. With that roller coaster ride out of the way, we're ready to move on to the next attraction. I have a feeling the weeks to come are going to be a cross between go-cart racing and bumper cars - a lot of "hurry, hurry, hurry" and a few jolts along with all the fun. 

Under the Blue Umbrella

I'm under my blue beach umbrella watching my children splash in the pool. I've been here in this very spot almost every day since June. We'll stay until we've had enough of the afternoon sun and then we'll go have popsicles on the porch while we wait for Dad to come home. Dinner will be late, and though I know I should probably enforce bedtime, I won't. I'll let them stay up and play - it's still light outside after all. The long, slow days of summer ironically seemed to fly by this year. It feels like it should be July when it's well into August. We're making our final check marks on our list of goals ( Summer Goals 2008 post). We did pretty well, all things considered. We visited This Is The Place, the petting zoo, and the aviary, along with the Children's Garden and Wheeler Farm. Madeleine worked on riding her two-wheeler until an high-velocity encounter with a tree squelched her enthusiasm. Uncle Chad came over and gave Beth her first soccer lesson. Mary spent many a blissful hour with her little friends. Luke improved his golf score significantly.

As for my goals, I did ok. If you only count the first and last week of the summer I get credit for the goal of keeping the kids on a routine. I thoroughly enjoyed our little pioneer adventure. Mary is in fact potty trained - it was the lipstick incentive that did the trick. As far as my blog goes, well, what you see is what you get. I also read a few books and started learning to play golf. Some day I may even be good enough to have a score. And of course, I've been here, under the blue umbrella, watching my children laugh, play, and sometimes cry. I forgot to bring my camera this year. I usually video them swimming and doing tricks so that the next year we can see how much they've learned and how much they've grown. But they grow so fast. With or without the videos I can't keep up.

I already miss them, the ages they are right now I mean. I miss the thought of waking up in the morning and having the whole day open to spend with them however we want. I miss the freedom of sending them out the door in nothing more than a playdress and sandals. I miss the anticpation of all the fun things we'll do together over the summer, because now summer is over. But, there's always next year. We'll make new goals, and have more adventures, and we'll be here, splashing and playing almost every day. Come join us - you'll find us under the blue umbrella.