School has resumed!

Has it really been almost a month since I last wrote? blogging is one of my most rewarding writing experiences and I have been bogged down with Life!

School has resumed. I was sad over not being able to sign up for classes myself, but now I am happy because my suburban died and my husband is in the middle of a huge project that he couldn't get a little time out to help me get to where I would need to be so I would have had to drop the classes.

My kids are in a language immersion school. We have no bus service. I had been walking them to school, then coming home and having to walk back since Mudd is in kindergarten and starts school late, then walking back in the afternoon. It was a mile in each direction which was no big deal, but another mom drives the morning kids to school and takes them all home and I only have to walk Mudd to school. I look forward to getting the 'burb back, but the walks are really nice. We leave much earlier than we have to so we can look at leaves and berries and inspect the creek that we pass on the way to school. I remember walks with my mom when I was 5 and I wonder if these two will have fond memories of us walking.

The older two have a greater struggle with the immersion program but we are making them stick with it. Calamity Jane is having a great time and comes home glowing about her teacher and all her new friends. Her disposition is so sunny that you can get a tan sitting next to her; everything "couldn't be BETTER! I am so lucky!"

Cloud is doing really well with her sports and music. Her coach is a lady who I was in college with, who won every award for position in her sport that she could and I think she was MVP 4 years in a row. She has recruited Cloud for what she coaches and her music teacher also likes her and has told her to start trying out for things. Her music teacher remembered me from several years before when he worked with Peaches. He was standing behind me when he stopped and said that he recognized my voice. He remembered my last name even though it was different from Peaches' and that was really shocking to me, but he said I am pretty distinct. I think it was me scolding an errant toddler that jogged is memory more so than my voice. I have a way of saying, "Uh-uh-uh!" to naughty 3 year olds that is pretty distinct!

There was a case of Guy getting into mischief at school last week. Ahhh! Junior high! I hate dealing with this stuff, but we resolved it. I know it is just the start even if he is good for the rest of school. (Without going into detail, he has impulse control issues: in real life, these things have to be curbed. Thank goodness he is the only one of my kids to have them!)

With some time to just me and 3 year old Starshine, I am having quite a time getting my house organized. It is suddenly easy. Starshine sits and reads books or plays quietly while when Mudd is home, they get into things. I am shedding CRAP by the garbage bag full. My husband is pretty much a packrat and if I throw stuff out with him here, it's, "What are you doing? There are some more uses to that!" Of course if he throws out my stuff, I am as bad. Right now I am looking at things and saying, "Throw away, give away or keep?" Most of it is being tossed out. Everything we uy eventually gets used up and thrown out and it's bothering me. Since Tuesday is the start of a new month, they accept bags of things so I as of Thursday (two days ago) I started saving things again to take down to them.

I feel like I am getting old and crotchety. I'm evaluating my time. I used to love-love-love helping out in various places that were not nice to go to. Hospice, the prisons, homes for really sick people. . . those were my hang outs. I really enjoyed spending my time in those places when I got out and now I am wondering if I really liked them. Did I like them or was I ale to get a change from home and justify it? "They need me." I am doing radio now and that gives me energy. I like interviewing people and playing with sounds. Just for fun (I deleted it after I showed a few people in my house!) I took an interview and made it sound like we were in a bar and took the man's answers and used my own voices and made it sound like he was getting hit on while I interviewed him. I was painting a scene with sound! Anyway-- the old nurturing gigs that I had don't appeal to me now.

Part of the nurturing that bugged me was getting thanked. I hate being thanked-- interviews, yes, thank me for making you sound good and for the hours I will put in to editing! If I spend three hours sitting with someone who is sick, it's an act of love. Thank me once, then tell me that I bring sunshine into your life or that you get a kick out of me telling you funny stories. I don't really need words and I prefer to keep them to a minimum. I don't know why words of thanks bother me so much, but they embarrass me. These things are not what I want in my life now.

I'm purging things from my life. It is sad in some ways because I am not Florence Nightengale and I used to admire people who did those kinds of things. I still admire them, but I don't want to be like them. I have so much time and I have to be selective and ask how much time I can really devote to things and what I am getting out of them for what I put in to them.

I think that radio and writing about what I do is my area. I love going out on a volunteer event, trying it and writing about it. I have been asked to go out on something because of my work at the Examiner and I can't wait to dive into it. I feel so flaky knowing that I will love it, wish I could stay, but if I do, I will soon tire of it. It isn't about the need for newness so much as it is simply not my calling.

I have been hanging out with some new friends, a certain class of women who obsess over their weight. (It has to do with publicity.) My family practices Eastern Orthodoxy. We have numerous fasts and we just stay away from those foods and if offered, we are supposed to accept a small serving so as not to draw attention to the fast. This particular demographic of women worry about their weight and make an issue of it. They work out a lot, but if they see the dessert cart, they make an issue that goes like this:

"Oooooh! I like that Tiger Mousse cake but I'll need to work out an extra half an hour!"

Then another says, "Oh Shiela! You aren't fat!"

Shiela looks astounded and says in a conspiratorial whisper, "I've put on 10 pounds since June!"

I got ticked at an event and took the plate of petite fours from them as they stood staring at it and talking about how much weight they had to lose. Did they really want that little frosted confection? They'd have to work out at least 20 minutes! I said to them, "Don't stand around talking sh--! Either eat the damned things or don't, but don't stand around calling yourselves fat when there are people starving three blocks away and living in tents!" (I happen to be good at publicity for them, and they are interesting. . . and this may turn into a paying job. This stays in my life.)

This is all for now. There is much more to share, but I have a closet to clean and a birthday party to take a child to, not to mention a dessert to eat!

And then the washing machine breaks!

I didn't get a lick of stats done today. As soon as I got done with my last post and got my books in order and my Pandora station set, my husband came in to me and whispered that our bathroom sink was leaking and that it had been for a number of days. Hobbling and hopping, only I could see what was needed to be saved. Bending was rough and painful. I cleaned it then helped my husband clean up the watery mess. Somehow over the course of the past 10 years I never bothered with cleaning under that sink. It was a catch-all for pageant make-up, awards, 50 bottles of nail polish and soaps. How did I get two sets of hot rollers in the mess? My hair is wild and I don't try to tame it so I don't use them.

I lifted the mess and hurt myself again when I got outside. (I do not identify with my present back situation but it has to be worked around.)

After that I lay down on an electric blanket and took some pain killers. I got up and made dinner (my husband was trying to get my Diva running) and got the kids fed. (I have discovered uncooked tortillas-- I love cooking with them and the kids like it, too.) After dinner. . . the washing machine broke. If we can' get it working, we'll have to bag up the clothes and go wash them all at a laundromat.

Is this a sign from God to get out and give up on my degree or a test to see how persevering I am? Everything is normal, no big deal, we can handle it.



I'm listening to Barry Manilow right now-- I'm chillin'!

Calamity Jane has listened to k.d. lang and loves he and I am getting some of her CD's this week. She started belting out Honky Tonk Angels, then they took it off youtube, but she likes some of her other work. Not bad for a six year old!

"Are Mushrooms Kosher?" Random Thoughts While Doing Statistics

Today I am prepping for a stats test. I had to take an incomplete in it. The Temperamental Diva isn't running so I cannot say that my children had to be taken any place. They did, and I had to listen to them complain. My husband had to do some other running around and then got home and didn't want to go any place unless it was here.

I had to do my school work. While sitting here I have been yelled at by a very good husband who realizes that when my dad told him I would drain his patience, he wasn't joking. I resist so much, but I like it once I get into it. As I have studied, my husband has growled at me because of how my mind resists working. I have been working and just said whatever was in my mind, "Are mushrooms kosher?" "Can we assign an x variable to my thoughts?" Finally I just had to look up and he said, "TEA! GET TO WORK!"

If I like a topic, I practically teach the class. If I do not, I am a drain on my professors. I like statistics. As soon as I put the kids down for mandatory naps (including the older kids) I got things done.

My back is killing me. The weather is bad. I think I do better when resisting the pain. I tried laying down on our bed but every time I got up, pain shot through my back and legs. I have to sit at the table. I made stuffed peppers for dinner. I am doing it again. . .

Now I must get back to my work.

The Temperamental Diva is Steaming

The Temperamental Diva is my SUV. Before my husband left on his trip-- I won't go into that. The bottom line is, when a woman says that her car needs to be looked at and her man carries the fucking purse, he'd better take care of it without making an issue of what it will cost, announcing it or whatever.

FORTUNATELY my former lawyer has noted that I have been ignored a few times and have had some near MAJOR PROBLEMS with my vehicles. He told me a couple of years ago that if I ever thought that anything was wrong with my SUV or for that matter, had to tell someone that it was fine to give him a call. The heater quit working last night-- I think it was when the Temperamental Diva heard me talking about Sarah Palin not having the sense to use a flipping thesaurus and she was showing her coolness for the governor, but I'm not sure. Today I pulled up at the house and it was cold out and the car seemed to be steaming, but I thought it was because it was cold. I assured Peaches that it was fine, which made me remember the lawman's warning. He called me a couple of times, I was going out anyway to a coffee shop and I went to see him and I bought FIVE GALLONS of antifreeze. He put antifreeze and water in it.

I'm taking it to the mechanic in the morning and I have a class. So very frustrating, but I was grateful to my former lawyer taking care of me as he did.

The Tempermental Diva is Almost Ready

We found out what is the matter with the Diva-- it's something with the fuel injector. Our mechanic is very nice and making it affordable to us to fix her up. If I had a million dollars, I think that I would give some to a mechanic like him to fix cars for people like my family. I don't know what I would do without him, but what he is doing will also increase the fuel efficiency of my SUV. At first I was like, "It's only going to help with three extra miles to the gallon." He laughed and said, "You have a 30 gallon tank!" Oh-- never mind! That's a hundred extra miles! Do it, do it! I get about 12 MPG as it is-- increasing it by a fourth is a very nice thing!

We want to take the kids out to the bay this year in a community called Homer. Can you believe that I've never taken them to salt water where there are crabs and sea shells and clams? My husband and I went to some sporting outfitters and found some affordable tents and sleeping bags. I so much hope we can do it! If it's too much to take the Diva, we will have my husband go in his little car with Princess Cloud, Guy, Basil and Dmitri. It will be a tough journey with the four of them, but they can manage it and have SO MUCH FUN. I'll probably be pulling my hair out with the three babies by the time they get back, but c'est la vie. The point is for them to see salt water and to sleep in tents and new sleeping bags. My husband wants to get two tents-- one for me and him and one for the kids with my 18 year old overseeing the kids which she is fine with. I told him that he and I had better get the bigger tent because before the night is through, all the kids will be coming in to be with us!

He wants to buy me some cooking utensils. I want an iron Dutch oven. He says I am trying to be too fancy, but I hate tomato soup and sandwiches like he thinks I should make. Canned soups and sandwiches just don't turn me on or even give me a reason to want to live. When I was in labor, my favorite OB, Dr. Lawrence would tease me that there was a delicious lunch or dinner awaiting me if I had the baby by a certain time. He'd find out and tell me what it was and oh dear, he said Beef Bourguignon and I was in so much pain-- I asked what time they were serving and he said around 6 and I had Calamity Jane by 5:30. "Just stitch me up, get the kid to the nursery and don't waste my time here. Where's dinner?" (I hadn't been allowed to eat during labor because I'd had c-sections before.) Had he said that tomato soup and sandwiches were being served, I'd still be in labor with her and she is almost six years old! No-- when you camp or give birth or really, do anything else, you need to have the best food you can afford.

I hope to have the Dutch oven working well and using it before we go. The boys will help me more if I cook outside.

We are getting cheap sleeping bags for the kids-- my ex husband bought my elder two some really nice sleeping bags and they took them out of where I put them for storage and put them ontheir beds and they destroyed them. My husband said that this is what kids this age do-- we will get them bags that they may not use that much, that won't last for forever, but will serve a purpose.