Friday, March 24, 2017
random and updates
I'm mad because I had a procedure done at the beginning of April last year and they just billed me for it last week. The amount is several hundred dollars, which would have changed my taxes considerably. I'm ridiculously peeved -- it's bad business, it represents Big Bad Healthcare in my mind, it's irritating to receive a bill so long after, and it's tied to a source of major stress in my life - a condition I have been spending hundreds of dollars and tens of hours on trying to get assessed, only to come up with a big fat nothing.
I'm going to try and remedy that situation next week, because the pain is becoming nigh on unbearable, but the combination of taxes, big money, and being tied to something else I'm already frazzled and frayed about is making an already bad situation worse.
I have a very thoughtful sister who went to Grandma's house and picked a few things for me to have as keepsakes. She asked very excellent questions and was most helpful and kind, as of course, is Grandma, who is making many hard decisions and is letting go of her house.
It's interesting how we need things and how we can get attached to them, and have so many feelings over them. I try not to get overly invested in things, but sometimes it's really hard. There is a box that I have tried to go through several times with my husband to decide what I want to keep from my "former" life and each time I just get frustrated and the box goes back in the eaves. Maybe I should just donate the whole thing without even looking inside next time I am tempted to go through it.
I won two haircuts at a service auction, which will both be used to trim N3's surfer hair. I can't call them locks, as that implies curls or wave in my mind. His hair is stick-straight, as is his father's. It's very unforgiving hair to cut, and he is like me in that he is afraid of going to new hairstylists. I have decided that the person who cuts both our hair gives satisfactory but not great cuts and that I will just not care as much about how my hair looks now that I have landed myself a HH. It's taken a long time to even start to get me convinced, but now I am well on my way. I never knew that I liked the "frills" part of a haircut so much - the consultation time, the shampoo, the blowout. Maybe someday when I have more disposable income I'll go back to it.
I had a neurological problem in my left thigh but I changed a few things and now it is doing much better, though my lower back is still really bothering me.
I started watching Poldark and have exclaimed to HH at least seven times, "I'm not sure I can keep watching this!" but yet I love the camera work and the lighting and the story is so gripping that I don't really want to stop. I have only seen through Season 1, but I'm telling you now, if Demelza dies, I'm out. (Don't tell me if she does. I don't want to know.) What kind of name is Demelza, anyway? I wonder if she ever got called "Melza." Her brothers probably called her "Smelza" just to bug her. (If I were a brother, I would probably stoop to such low levels, but maybe her brothers are better men than I am.)
Thursday, March 23, 2017
3Ds
Recently, our van was out of commission for about 3 weeks, so we have ridden in my car everywhere. I am much more sensitive to what is on in my car now that I have kids in it most of the time, and so in order to keep them from listening to the ridiculousness that is Top 40 music (I swear, even three years ago, it wasn't so bad, but now it's five-word lyrics repeated over and over again about sex, which is annoying.). The 3Ds CD was in the disc slot, and one day I turned it on in desperation. I didn't actually think they would like it at all, but they have really enjoyed listening to the 3Ds poems. They have asked me to
interpret each song. We are working on lyric interpretation, as most of their listening is top 40 pop (which they get from a source that is not me) or electronic music (their dad) or classical (me), so they have not had a lot of experience doing such. I never realized that listening to Simon & Garfunkel or the Beatles or Tom Petty or even Fleetwood Mac and understanding the lyrics could be difficult. But to some people, poems are really hard to interpret. So for now, I am lending my interpretation skills.
Their favorite, by far, is the Jabberwocky. They love to do the high pitched "whiffle, whiffle!" with me. I used to quote it and they had no idea what I was talking about. But now they love it!
They needed explanation on "The Crayon Box" and "Gunga Din" multiple times. They sang them over and over again. N3 often sings parts of "Vinegar Man" randomly about the house. "Let's hear it again!" they say, and "Don't listen to it without me!"
I didn't remember that so many of the poems were about people dying. My kids are very sensitive, so I was afraid that it would make them emotional or ask awkward questions, but it was actually a really good discussion base. I have found that as a parent, if you go into answering any question with the mindset of "how can I be a good educator, and give them the full picture, with the least amount of bias possible and so they can understand it" instead of being at all worried about my own feelings, it goes a long way to having productive and really actually non-embarrassing conversations about a lot of things.
As I listened to the poems again, I thought about how different my perspective is now that I am an adult and a parent. As a kid, I thought that the Charge of the Light Brigade was saying, "Happily, happily, happily onward!" not "half a league". And I didn't realize that so many of them died...I just focused on the fact that I liked how the song was produced.
If you haven't listened lately, you should. It's a great record, for a lot of reasons.
http://www.phoenixrecords.org/inalbums.php
Their favorite, by far, is the Jabberwocky. They love to do the high pitched "whiffle, whiffle!" with me. I used to quote it and they had no idea what I was talking about. But now they love it!
They needed explanation on "The Crayon Box" and "Gunga Din" multiple times. They sang them over and over again. N3 often sings parts of "Vinegar Man" randomly about the house. "Let's hear it again!" they say, and "Don't listen to it without me!"
I didn't remember that so many of the poems were about people dying. My kids are very sensitive, so I was afraid that it would make them emotional or ask awkward questions, but it was actually a really good discussion base. I have found that as a parent, if you go into answering any question with the mindset of "how can I be a good educator, and give them the full picture, with the least amount of bias possible and so they can understand it" instead of being at all worried about my own feelings, it goes a long way to having productive and really actually non-embarrassing conversations about a lot of things.
As I listened to the poems again, I thought about how different my perspective is now that I am an adult and a parent. As a kid, I thought that the Charge of the Light Brigade was saying, "Happily, happily, happily onward!" not "half a league". And I didn't realize that so many of them died...I just focused on the fact that I liked how the song was produced.
If you haven't listened lately, you should. It's a great record, for a lot of reasons.
http://www.phoenixrecords.org/inalbums.php
Sunday, March 12, 2017
crepes
Tonight I made my family crepes for the first time. The boys had never had them before. I explained to them that this was a treat my mom used to make for my family sometimes on Sunday evenings. (We had our dinner early, thus prompting the occasion, even though we had a lovely roast and potatoes and veggies, all courtesy of HH, who makes Sunday dinner >90% of the time. He is so nice and lovely that way.)
They weren't sure about them at first, but N3 quickly got into the swing of things. I made a peach blend I wanted them to try; L balked at it most strenuously, which I thought was a little sad, considering how much he likes peaches and everything else that was in there. In the end, he did try it, but rejected it in future crepes in favor of other fillings, and ended up eating the maximum amount I allowed (a very generous six. What can I say? Sometimes I'm a softie.).
I have been introducing more new things to the boys that I had when I was younger: my siblings might remember carrot-and-pineapple salad, marshmallow banana pineapple slaw, turkey tetrazzini, and hamburger bean bake, to name a few. Some of them are better left in the past, but I have enjoyed telling the boys about the recipes and times we ate them when I was kids. I tell the kids stories of my past as often as I can so they can feel close to me and remember that I am not just a parent, but I was once a kid, too. Sometimes I found it rather hard to believe my parents were ever children. ;) Maybe that's true of everyone? I wish I knew more about the childhood years of each of my parents. I would probably relate even more if I did.
I found a new crepe favorite: honey butter. A friend of ours made some and gave Tyler a jar as a thank-you for favor he did her. We have used most of the jar on fresh bread, but there was just a bit left and we used it as a treat. Sadly, we had no whipped cream or fresh bananas. Perhaps that's just as well, as it kept my crepe consumption down.
I am so grateful for the love and appreciation my family shows me and that they are more grateful now than they ever have been for all the efforts I put into feeding them treats and balanced meals. Something that has really helped is having them mostly make dinner (especially simple dishes). Knowing the work it takes to make dinner happen has made them even more grateful for each night they don't have to do it - a sentiment I am familiar with. I do enjoy cooking, but when I was single I didn't have to do it every single night, as there were often leftovers. Now, I estimate I spend approximately 25 hours a week preparing and managing my family's food. If I didn't work, I would probably spend a lot more than that. It's a task that is time-consuming and sometimes seems thankless, repetitive, and (sometimes) frustrating, but I am grateful I learned so much about how to manage food resources when I was small. I hope I can teach my kids that lesson, too - but, for now, it's one lesson at a time, and tonight, the lesson was that eating treats together on Sunday night can be a boon for all in both bonding time and pleased tastebuds/tummies.
They weren't sure about them at first, but N3 quickly got into the swing of things. I made a peach blend I wanted them to try; L balked at it most strenuously, which I thought was a little sad, considering how much he likes peaches and everything else that was in there. In the end, he did try it, but rejected it in future crepes in favor of other fillings, and ended up eating the maximum amount I allowed (a very generous six. What can I say? Sometimes I'm a softie.).
I have been introducing more new things to the boys that I had when I was younger: my siblings might remember carrot-and-pineapple salad, marshmallow banana pineapple slaw, turkey tetrazzini, and hamburger bean bake, to name a few. Some of them are better left in the past, but I have enjoyed telling the boys about the recipes and times we ate them when I was kids. I tell the kids stories of my past as often as I can so they can feel close to me and remember that I am not just a parent, but I was once a kid, too. Sometimes I found it rather hard to believe my parents were ever children. ;) Maybe that's true of everyone? I wish I knew more about the childhood years of each of my parents. I would probably relate even more if I did.
I found a new crepe favorite: honey butter. A friend of ours made some and gave Tyler a jar as a thank-you for favor he did her. We have used most of the jar on fresh bread, but there was just a bit left and we used it as a treat. Sadly, we had no whipped cream or fresh bananas. Perhaps that's just as well, as it kept my crepe consumption down.
I am so grateful for the love and appreciation my family shows me and that they are more grateful now than they ever have been for all the efforts I put into feeding them treats and balanced meals. Something that has really helped is having them mostly make dinner (especially simple dishes). Knowing the work it takes to make dinner happen has made them even more grateful for each night they don't have to do it - a sentiment I am familiar with. I do enjoy cooking, but when I was single I didn't have to do it every single night, as there were often leftovers. Now, I estimate I spend approximately 25 hours a week preparing and managing my family's food. If I didn't work, I would probably spend a lot more than that. It's a task that is time-consuming and sometimes seems thankless, repetitive, and (sometimes) frustrating, but I am grateful I learned so much about how to manage food resources when I was small. I hope I can teach my kids that lesson, too - but, for now, it's one lesson at a time, and tonight, the lesson was that eating treats together on Sunday night can be a boon for all in both bonding time and pleased tastebuds/tummies.
Thursday, March 9, 2017
planting and little birds
I'm working on our garden. Farming, even on a very small scale, is more difficult than it would seem to be. Finding a configuration of where to plant where everything is companionable and without discord is tough stuff. Then, actually finding time to plant is also an issue, because I am busy planting other things - violin lessons for N3, homework projects, dinner every night, six hours a day at work, helping boys become men, attempting to exercise more to eradicate some unwanted inches as a result of stress, and attempting to have a measure of fun in each day before Mr. Sandman (who, I have found, has never had wavy hair like Liberacci), is the garden of my life.
I have harvests - small moments of bliss with my boys, calm moments in the shower, and a full belly after a stressful afternoon. Sometimes it feels like the planting is all there is, with nary a bean (magical or otherwise) of harvest. But that's not true.
A few weeks ago I taught a group of about 40 women a lesson on peace of mind and joy. I'm not really sure I was qualified, as I can be very anxious and worry a lot about things I don't really need to. But the thing is, even in the planting, you're not alone. You can plant seeds of worry or of hope, and sometimes heartache is harvested (un)expectedly from either source. You're not the only person planting, hoping, hurting, emoting. Take comfort in the fact that there are other gardeners, whether you can see their plants or whether they are seedlings in the ground. Some seeds are weeds and it's good to pull them out before they cover everything. To parody and paraphrase the Weepies, "We are all gardeners, with harvests inside, never know what plant will grow...is it one you've planted before?" Even if all you can see is a craggy bed with clay for soil, you can imagine a garden. Butchart Gardens is a wonderful example of a literal garden made out of something that a lot of people thought was unsalvageable. Maybe you feel like a tar pit and there's "nothing green or good in (your) world."
Don't give up. Be still. Breathe. Be light - your plants will need it. Believe me.
I'm not sure any of this really made sense. I think my brain is out of seeds right now. The point is: I hope everyone reading this can find a ray of hope in this day. And two rays tomorrow. There are bound to be clouds, but all gardens need some rain in order to grow. May you not grow weary in the planting, and enjoy every harvest, big or small, that comes your way.
I have harvests - small moments of bliss with my boys, calm moments in the shower, and a full belly after a stressful afternoon. Sometimes it feels like the planting is all there is, with nary a bean (magical or otherwise) of harvest. But that's not true.
A few weeks ago I taught a group of about 40 women a lesson on peace of mind and joy. I'm not really sure I was qualified, as I can be very anxious and worry a lot about things I don't really need to. But the thing is, even in the planting, you're not alone. You can plant seeds of worry or of hope, and sometimes heartache is harvested (un)expectedly from either source. You're not the only person planting, hoping, hurting, emoting. Take comfort in the fact that there are other gardeners, whether you can see their plants or whether they are seedlings in the ground. Some seeds are weeds and it's good to pull them out before they cover everything. To parody and paraphrase the Weepies, "We are all gardeners, with harvests inside, never know what plant will grow...is it one you've planted before?" Even if all you can see is a craggy bed with clay for soil, you can imagine a garden. Butchart Gardens is a wonderful example of a literal garden made out of something that a lot of people thought was unsalvageable. Maybe you feel like a tar pit and there's "nothing green or good in (your) world."
Don't give up. Be still. Breathe. Be light - your plants will need it. Believe me.
I'm not sure any of this really made sense. I think my brain is out of seeds right now. The point is: I hope everyone reading this can find a ray of hope in this day. And two rays tomorrow. There are bound to be clouds, but all gardens need some rain in order to grow. May you not grow weary in the planting, and enjoy every harvest, big or small, that comes your way.
Subscribe to:
Posts (Atom)