Yesterday afternoon at 4:15, the Asst. Zookeeper and I did something new. We went to dancing lessons.
Since we began dating, we've always said how much fun it would be to take dance lessons, especially Latin dancing. A few weeks ago, he asked me if I still thought it would be fun. And if he could arrange I time with one of the local dance studios, would I go?
YES!!!!
I spent all day yesterday as though I was a small child waiting for Santa. I was so excited! And it was WONDERFUL! We both had such a great time. We're going again next week and I can hardly wait.
We had a 45 minute lesson and learned four different dances. I managed to make him step on my toes multiple times, but it was usually my fault. And since I was moving backwards, I have to give him credit. He didn't run me into any pillars - not even once! And I'm sure he had to resist the urge. I know I would have! :)
Kudos to the Assistant Zookeeper!
Thursday, February 28, 2008
Waking the Animals
This morning is the perfect example of mornings at my zoo. It's no wonder that the first thing I do upon arrival at work is to slug down two or three cups of coffee and vegetate for several minutes. Mornings at the zoo are solos for me. The Assistant Zookeeper doesn't arrive home from work until 9am or later. I take pride in the fact that all my children are still living.
Years ago - and several children ago - I would roll out of bed at 5 am. I'd be out the door by 7 am. Nowadays, the mornings start around 7 to 7:20. Upon waking up, I usually discover that I've mammals laying on me. Sometimes it's one or two cats. Usually, it's Heathen #3. For a 30 lb mammal, he takes up a lot of bed space. It's really handy that the Asst. Zookeeper works nights.
I dragged myself into the shower. In the shower, I tend to lose track of time. My mind starts to whirl and I find myself just standing in the water with no idea how long I've been there. Quick scrub - and I jump out. Dry off. While I'm dressing, I start waking the Heathens.
Heathen #1 is the first stop - he's bedroom is right beside the bathroom. Flip on his light and call his name until I see some movement of the blankets (he sleeps with the blankets over his head). This child is like waking a hibernating bear - and usually about as safe. As soon as I spot movement or I hear a groan, it's on to Heathen #2.
Flip on Heathen #2's light. This Heathen is much easier to wake. His bed is right under the light switch. He's usually already stirring when I get there. He also sleeps with his head under the blankets. But you never know which end of the bed is where his head is located. I've uncovered feet on many mornings. Once this one is awake and talking, it's back into Heathen #1's room to re-wake him again.
During the entire waking process, I have to keep talking to them or they will crawl back into bed and go back to sleep. After they are both moving, they head for the bathroom. I usually stand in the hall outside the door to keep them moving. Heathen #1 has been known to curl up on the bathroom floor.
Usually about this time, Heathen #3 announced from my room that I have to come wake him up. He's fun to wake up still. He's warm and floppy and cuddly. My days of this are numbered though. I'm enjoying it while I still can.
Then it's time to get the oldest two dressed. This involves arguments of whether clothing qualifies as "clean" or how many times you can wear something between laundering. It also is usually the first opportunity for Heathen #2 to have a melt down - usually because he gets stuck trying to get his pajamas off or his shirt on.
Once the older two Heathens are dressed - we head to the kitchen for breakfast. Breakfast at our zoo is cereal, 29 days out of 30. The Heathens tells me what cereal they want, I put it in bowls and add milk. Heathen #3 is in charge of spoons. As soon as they are all seated at the table, I give my speech of "eat your breakfast, I'm going to fix my hair..." and I head back to the bathroom.
While I dry and prep my hair for the day, I listen to the Heathens alternately
chatting and screaming. By the time I'm applying makeup, I'm yelling from the bathroom to stop talking and eat. Usually, I make at least one trip down the steps to threaten them with annihilation if they don't hurry up and finish their food.
Then I've got to herd the older two into brushing their teeth and combing their hair. This is usually Heathen #2's chance for a second melt down - he always has knots in his hair. It's a wrestling match to get the knots out and keep his hands out of my way.
Then the alarm goes off in the kitchen and we suddenly have to find socks, shoes, coats, mittens, backpacks, and a violin (on Thursdays) and get those all appropriately applied. Then the older two Heathens head out the door to wait for the bus. And I take a deep breath.
Spinning on my heel, Heathen #3 now knows it's his turn for daily preparation and immediately becomes uncooperative. I usually haul him into his bedroom to change his clothes as though he were a football. And if it's a normal morning, he starts chatting that he wants to do something.
Today, the something was brushing his teeth. But he couldn't find his toothbrush because he hauls it all over the house. Once located, then he didn't want to brush his teeth anymore. So I announced that we were leaving and forcibly applied a hat and winter coat to Heathen #3.
From this point until we arrived at the sitter's house, Heathen #3 had a temper tantrum. He yelled the following items (over and over):
1. I want to brush my teeth!
2. I want fishies (which means he wanted to take a pack of goldfish crackers to share with Nicholas)!
3. Your not my friend!
4. I said I don't like you!
Add tears and crying and you have Heathen #3. It's very attractive on his part and it's always good for my self-esteem. It's a good thing I'm a morning person. Otherwise, none of my children would have lived this long.
Years ago - and several children ago - I would roll out of bed at 5 am. I'd be out the door by 7 am. Nowadays, the mornings start around 7 to 7:20. Upon waking up, I usually discover that I've mammals laying on me. Sometimes it's one or two cats. Usually, it's Heathen #3. For a 30 lb mammal, he takes up a lot of bed space. It's really handy that the Asst. Zookeeper works nights.
I dragged myself into the shower. In the shower, I tend to lose track of time. My mind starts to whirl and I find myself just standing in the water with no idea how long I've been there. Quick scrub - and I jump out. Dry off. While I'm dressing, I start waking the Heathens.
Heathen #1 is the first stop - he's bedroom is right beside the bathroom. Flip on his light and call his name until I see some movement of the blankets (he sleeps with the blankets over his head). This child is like waking a hibernating bear - and usually about as safe. As soon as I spot movement or I hear a groan, it's on to Heathen #2.
Flip on Heathen #2's light. This Heathen is much easier to wake. His bed is right under the light switch. He's usually already stirring when I get there. He also sleeps with his head under the blankets. But you never know which end of the bed is where his head is located. I've uncovered feet on many mornings. Once this one is awake and talking, it's back into Heathen #1's room to re-wake him again.
During the entire waking process, I have to keep talking to them or they will crawl back into bed and go back to sleep. After they are both moving, they head for the bathroom. I usually stand in the hall outside the door to keep them moving. Heathen #1 has been known to curl up on the bathroom floor.
Usually about this time, Heathen #3 announced from my room that I have to come wake him up. He's fun to wake up still. He's warm and floppy and cuddly. My days of this are numbered though. I'm enjoying it while I still can.
Then it's time to get the oldest two dressed. This involves arguments of whether clothing qualifies as "clean" or how many times you can wear something between laundering. It also is usually the first opportunity for Heathen #2 to have a melt down - usually because he gets stuck trying to get his pajamas off or his shirt on.
Once the older two Heathens are dressed - we head to the kitchen for breakfast. Breakfast at our zoo is cereal, 29 days out of 30. The Heathens tells me what cereal they want, I put it in bowls and add milk. Heathen #3 is in charge of spoons. As soon as they are all seated at the table, I give my speech of "eat your breakfast, I'm going to fix my hair..." and I head back to the bathroom.While I dry and prep my hair for the day, I listen to the Heathens alternately
chatting and screaming. By the time I'm applying makeup, I'm yelling from the bathroom to stop talking and eat. Usually, I make at least one trip down the steps to threaten them with annihilation if they don't hurry up and finish their food.Then I've got to herd the older two into brushing their teeth and combing their hair. This is usually Heathen #2's chance for a second melt down - he always has knots in his hair. It's a wrestling match to get the knots out and keep his hands out of my way.
Then the alarm goes off in the kitchen and we suddenly have to find socks, shoes, coats, mittens, backpacks, and a violin (on Thursdays) and get those all appropriately applied. Then the older two Heathens head out the door to wait for the bus. And I take a deep breath.
Spinning on my heel, Heathen #3 now knows it's his turn for daily preparation and immediately becomes uncooperative. I usually haul him into his bedroom to change his clothes as though he were a football. And if it's a normal morning, he starts chatting that he wants to do something.
Today, the something was brushing his teeth. But he couldn't find his toothbrush because he hauls it all over the house. Once located, then he didn't want to brush his teeth anymore. So I announced that we were leaving and forcibly applied a hat and winter coat to Heathen #3.
From this point until we arrived at the sitter's house, Heathen #3 had a temper tantrum. He yelled the following items (over and over):
1. I want to brush my teeth!
2. I want fishies (which means he wanted to take a pack of goldfish crackers to share with Nicholas)!
3. Your not my friend!
4. I said I don't like you!
Add tears and crying and you have Heathen #3. It's very attractive on his part and it's always good for my self-esteem. It's a good thing I'm a morning person. Otherwise, none of my children would have lived this long.
Wednesday, February 27, 2008
Toothless Chats
On school days at 11:30 (or 10:30 if it's Friday), I pick up Heathen #2 from kindergarten. Because of daycare costs, the younger two Heathens go to my Godson's house. And his house is, of course, outside of the school district.
I leave work, go get him, and drive him to the sitter's. It's probably only a 10 minute trip - on a slow day. But it's been a great chance to talk to just him, without any other Heathens interrupting or butting in. I turn off the radio and we chat the whole way to the sitter's.
Yesterday, for some reason, he announced that he knew he wasn't going to live forever and he started to become very morbid and upset. Young children do this on occasion. Sometimes it's hard to snap them out of it.
I informed him that he couldn't die for a very long time. That he would be older that Pap is when he finally gets around to it - and Pap is 82. He would be soooo old that he wouldn't have any teeth left anymore.
Something about my teeth comment really caught his attention and we talked about dentures for the rest of the trip. How you take out your dentures and soak them in a bowl overnight just like I take out my contacts. How you're all gums when you aren't wearing them. How it's hard to chew cookies without teeth, but you could still suck on lollipops. This whole conversation involved me making "gum faces" and talking as though I no longer had teeth either. Heathen #2 loved it.
He got out of the van, gave me a kiss, walked up the porch steps, and waved before he went in the door at the sitter's house. He was no longer upset that he wasn't going to live forever. It's amazing what a little chat can accomplish.
I leave work, go get him, and drive him to the sitter's. It's probably only a 10 minute trip - on a slow day. But it's been a great chance to talk to just him, without any other Heathens interrupting or butting in. I turn off the radio and we chat the whole way to the sitter's.
Yesterday, for some reason, he announced that he knew he wasn't going to live forever and he started to become very morbid and upset. Young children do this on occasion. Sometimes it's hard to snap them out of it.
I informed him that he couldn't die for a very long time. That he would be older that Pap is when he finally gets around to it - and Pap is 82. He would be soooo old that he wouldn't have any teeth left anymore.
Something about my teeth comment really caught his attention and we talked about dentures for the rest of the trip. How you take out your dentures and soak them in a bowl overnight just like I take out my contacts. How you're all gums when you aren't wearing them. How it's hard to chew cookies without teeth, but you could still suck on lollipops. This whole conversation involved me making "gum faces" and talking as though I no longer had teeth either. Heathen #2 loved it.
He got out of the van, gave me a kiss, walked up the porch steps, and waved before he went in the door at the sitter's house. He was no longer upset that he wasn't going to live forever. It's amazing what a little chat can accomplish.
Tuesday, February 26, 2008
Thinking with Fingers
The assistant zookeeper swears that he can sit and do something without thoughts running through his head. I don't understand that. There is a dialogue running through my head from this minute I wake up until the minute that I fall asleep at night.
Blogging for me is simply typing the dialogue that runs in my head. Maybe that was why I never had trouble writing papers in high school or college. Give me a topic, and turn me loose.
I don't understand what goes through people's heads all day if it is not a running dialogue. How do you NOT think? I realize that some people think in pictures (or so I'm told).
I think the Heathens think like I do. I can watch their thoughts cross over their faces and go through their eyes. They have very readable faces. I've been told that my face is like that as well. I'm not really sure though, as I've never looked in the mirror with that intention.
Anyway, I don't know that this entry really makes much sense. I understand what I'm typing, but I don't know that anyone else will. Not that it matters. These are my thoughts on zoo life and everything attached to it!
Blogging for me is simply typing the dialogue that runs in my head. Maybe that was why I never had trouble writing papers in high school or college. Give me a topic, and turn me loose.
I don't understand what goes through people's heads all day if it is not a running dialogue. How do you NOT think? I realize that some people think in pictures (or so I'm told).
I think the Heathens think like I do. I can watch their thoughts cross over their faces and go through their eyes. They have very readable faces. I've been told that my face is like that as well. I'm not really sure though, as I've never looked in the mirror with that intention.
Anyway, I don't know that this entry really makes much sense. I understand what I'm typing, but I don't know that anyone else will. Not that it matters. These are my thoughts on zoo life and everything attached to it!
Thoughts on Mothering Manuals
I spent some time on Amazon today looking for some light reading. Once the Heathens are in bed and the Asst. Zookeeper has left for the night, I love to curl up with the two psychotic cats and read a worthless novel. By "worthless," I mean one that does not hold value in the eyes of high school English teachers. Usually, my novels are a historical romance set in Scotland or England and involve either people of titles or people of qualities that are usually attributed to titled people. Don't worry, I know what I mean. These novels of mine are my mental escape from being the head zookeeper at my zoo.
The way Amazon's site works, as you browse through books and titles, it complies a recommended reading list based on your previous views and purchases. The site "learns" your preferences.
Somehow, I ended up looking at what I call "mothering manuals." The new age version of Dr. Spock. Some of them are written with all seriousness and you know those books are read and worshipped by the Manic Mamas. Some of them are written with an organic look and are used by the Flower Children's Children. There are mothering manuals for every kind of mother around.
I confess to being a Manic Mama at times. Regardless of how hard I struggle, it's hard not to be. The world of elementary school is full of them. At the Heathens' elementary school, I've gotten to know many of them. These women are the ones that have the perfectly coiffed hair, perfectly polished nails, smudge-less makeup, pressed clothing (that's perfectly in style) - and all this has been accomplished before they personally take their child to school every morning. Their children are spitting images of them.
I have actually found myself getting ready in the morning and thinking about my personal appearance in terms of "when I pick Heathen #2 up from kindergarten..... I don't want to be seen in that!" AAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAA!!!! What's wrong with me!?!?!?
Who cares? My Heathens rarely notice what I wear. That is unless they think they'll get brownie points (Momma you look pretty.... kind of thing). The Asst. Zookeeper rarely notices. Which is good - it means I'm a lot more to him than a fashion statement. But I know that other mothers notice. And I know this for a fact - because I notice what other mothers are wearing.
I also notice how they dress their kids, what shoes/purses they buy, whether their hair is obviously fixed or they've just rolled out of bed. I notice. And I know that they notice me. That's what mothering is - noticing and then comparing and finding things lacking.
This tirade started because of the mothering manuals! I admit that I've purchased them - for both myself and as gifts for friends as they've entered the world of mothers. The ones I've purchased for friends have been ones that have the ideology of "it won't be perfect, laugh at your mistakes." Those are also the ones that I find myself gravitating towards.
Once or twice I've looked at a mothering manual that was serious in nature. It had a lot of DOs and DON'Ts in it - lists of them. And I knew at every time I looked at one, that I was a sham as a mother. A good mother would have purchased the book and turned it into a religion. A good mother would have posted the lists all over the house and pinned them to her children. A good mother would have children that stayed in their beds and were quiet after lights out. And I'm definitely not that mother.
The urge to read mothering manuals comes from the deepest place inside me. Millions of women have does this long before I ever started on my own roller coaster. Somewhere, one of them had to be perfect - and she had to have written a book that gives her plan for perfection. If I just read enough of those manuals, I will find that ONE that will give me the secrets for which I'm looking!
The silliest part of the whole "mothering manual" issue for me is that I know that it will never matter how many books I read or buy. Every time I look through one and I read the blurb about the author, I always think, "Wow, and she wrote a book, too!" Just one more thing to add to my mothering to-do list - write the perfect mothering manual.
I must go now. I have to pick up the Heathens, then feed them and divide them evenly between scouts, swimming lessons and the playroom at the YMCA. I need to run and clear my head. It's almost as successful as reading a "worthless" novel. Which I plan to do tonight - no mothering manuals for me!
The way Amazon's site works, as you browse through books and titles, it complies a recommended reading list based on your previous views and purchases. The site "learns" your preferences.
Somehow, I ended up looking at what I call "mothering manuals." The new age version of Dr. Spock. Some of them are written with all seriousness and you know those books are read and worshipped by the Manic Mamas. Some of them are written with an organic look and are used by the Flower Children's Children. There are mothering manuals for every kind of mother around.
I confess to being a Manic Mama at times. Regardless of how hard I struggle, it's hard not to be. The world of elementary school is full of them. At the Heathens' elementary school, I've gotten to know many of them. These women are the ones that have the perfectly coiffed hair, perfectly polished nails, smudge-less makeup, pressed clothing (that's perfectly in style) - and all this has been accomplished before they personally take their child to school every morning. Their children are spitting images of them.
I have actually found myself getting ready in the morning and thinking about my personal appearance in terms of "when I pick Heathen #2 up from kindergarten..... I don't want to be seen in that!" AAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAA!!!! What's wrong with me!?!?!?
Who cares? My Heathens rarely notice what I wear. That is unless they think they'll get brownie points (Momma you look pretty.... kind of thing). The Asst. Zookeeper rarely notices. Which is good - it means I'm a lot more to him than a fashion statement. But I know that other mothers notice. And I know this for a fact - because I notice what other mothers are wearing.
I also notice how they dress their kids, what shoes/purses they buy, whether their hair is obviously fixed or they've just rolled out of bed. I notice. And I know that they notice me. That's what mothering is - noticing and then comparing and finding things lacking.
This tirade started because of the mothering manuals! I admit that I've purchased them - for both myself and as gifts for friends as they've entered the world of mothers. The ones I've purchased for friends have been ones that have the ideology of "it won't be perfect, laugh at your mistakes." Those are also the ones that I find myself gravitating towards.
Once or twice I've looked at a mothering manual that was serious in nature. It had a lot of DOs and DON'Ts in it - lists of them. And I knew at every time I looked at one, that I was a sham as a mother. A good mother would have purchased the book and turned it into a religion. A good mother would have posted the lists all over the house and pinned them to her children. A good mother would have children that stayed in their beds and were quiet after lights out. And I'm definitely not that mother.
The urge to read mothering manuals comes from the deepest place inside me. Millions of women have does this long before I ever started on my own roller coaster. Somewhere, one of them had to be perfect - and she had to have written a book that gives her plan for perfection. If I just read enough of those manuals, I will find that ONE that will give me the secrets for which I'm looking!
The silliest part of the whole "mothering manual" issue for me is that I know that it will never matter how many books I read or buy. Every time I look through one and I read the blurb about the author, I always think, "Wow, and she wrote a book, too!" Just one more thing to add to my mothering to-do list - write the perfect mothering manual.
I must go now. I have to pick up the Heathens, then feed them and divide them evenly between scouts, swimming lessons and the playroom at the YMCA. I need to run and clear my head. It's almost as successful as reading a "worthless" novel. Which I plan to do tonight - no mothering manuals for me!
Monday, February 25, 2008
Round and Round We Go!
It was another busy - but enjoyable - weekend at our zoo. After our Friday snow day (hurray!), the Asst. Zookeeper took Heathen #2 snowboarding for the evening. Heathens #1 and #3 stayed at the zoo with me. We ordered pizza and ate from paper plates - high style as always. :)
While the boys played Friday evening, I sewed a gingerbread cookie costume for Heathen #2's ballet company. Two weeks ago, an email went out to all the Grade 1 mothers - "Does anyone know how to sew who is willing to help make the costumes? They will be simple." Stupid me. I volunteered. I thought I was volunteering to help. Trouble is, no one else volunteered to help. So Friday night I sewed and I actually enjoyed it. I haven't taken the time to sew in years - since I was pregnant with Heathen #3 actually. I'm actually looking forward to doing it now.
Saturday morning, the Heathens all slept in - bless them! Heathen #2 had ballet at 1 and Heathen #1 went sled riding at a friend's house. Then we packed the Heathens into the van and went to my mother's house for dinner to celebrate my birthday. Chocolate cake with peanut butter icing! Life is good!
Sunday was the FUN day. It started as all Sundays do - getting everyone up and ready for Sunday School. Only, for the first time ever, I let my boys wear jeans and sneakers to church. That's what I wore as well. I felt really weird doing it and I was conscious of it the whole time. Talk about being trained to one way of thinking!
As soon as Sunday School was over, we drove home and picked up the Asst. Zookeeper. Then we met the whole family at BIL#1's house (that would be "brother-in-law" - the Asst. Zookeeper's older brother) and headed for Pittsburgh Mills Mall. By saying "the whole family," I do mean the whole family. Our zoo of 5, BIL#1's family of 4, BIL#2's family of 3, the INLAWS themselves, and the GRAND INLAWS as well. It was a convoy of four vehicles.
We went to play glow-in-the-dark miniature golf for BIL#1's 30th birthday. It was awesome and the kids had a great time! Afterward we went to the food court to have birthday cookie-cake. And then the kids all had the ride on the carousel that was in the food court.
The GRAND INLAWS wanted to pay for the kids to ride the carousel. And then looked completely content watching the kids go round and round in circles. These are the GRAND INLAWS. Nana and Pap.
While the boys played Friday evening, I sewed a gingerbread cookie costume for Heathen #2's ballet company. Two weeks ago, an email went out to all the Grade 1 mothers - "Does anyone know how to sew who is willing to help make the costumes? They will be simple." Stupid me. I volunteered. I thought I was volunteering to help. Trouble is, no one else volunteered to help. So Friday night I sewed and I actually enjoyed it. I haven't taken the time to sew in years - since I was pregnant with Heathen #3 actually. I'm actually looking forward to doing it now.
Saturday morning, the Heathens all slept in - bless them! Heathen #2 had ballet at 1 and Heathen #1 went sled riding at a friend's house. Then we packed the Heathens into the van and went to my mother's house for dinner to celebrate my birthday. Chocolate cake with peanut butter icing! Life is good!
Sunday was the FUN day. It started as all Sundays do - getting everyone up and ready for Sunday School. Only, for the first time ever, I let my boys wear jeans and sneakers to church. That's what I wore as well. I felt really weird doing it and I was conscious of it the whole time. Talk about being trained to one way of thinking!
As soon as Sunday School was over, we drove home and picked up the Asst. Zookeeper. Then we met the whole family at BIL#1's house (that would be "brother-in-law" - the Asst. Zookeeper's older brother) and headed for Pittsburgh Mills Mall. By saying "the whole family," I do mean the whole family. Our zoo of 5, BIL#1's family of 4, BIL#2's family of 3, the INLAWS themselves, and the GRAND INLAWS as well. It was a convoy of four vehicles.
We went to play glow-in-the-dark miniature golf for BIL#1's 30th birthday. It was awesome and the kids had a great time! Afterward we went to the food court to have birthday cookie-cake. And then the kids all had the ride on the carousel that was in the food court.
The GRAND INLAWS wanted to pay for the kids to ride the carousel. And then looked completely content watching the kids go round and round in circles. These are the GRAND INLAWS. Nana and Pap.
Here are my Heathens and a few of their cousins:
And, of course, you have to enjoy watching them go round and round and round and round and....
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