Changing computers

Things are hectic around here. I am changing over to a new computer...YAY! I needed one very badly, since mine is having memory issues. Could it be the nearly 7 gigs of pictures I have stored on my computer? Hmmmm. Maybe? Good grief I need to get some of these developed. Maybe I need to find a good site for remote storage.

So I've been busy today transferring things from my old computer to my new one (which is actually DH's old computer scrubbed clean). I downloaded this program called GSpace, which is supposed to let you use your Gmail account like FTP, but apparently, Gmail frowns on that sort of thing, and I have been blocked out of my email program for 24 hours due to suspicious activity! UGH! For awhile there, it felt like I couldn't breathe! Of course, I can access my email through comcast and yahoo, etc., but I want my Gmail....wahhhhh! I hope they find it within their hearts to find mercy on me and let me back in to Gmail. If they're reading, I just want them to know that I ended up going with Comcast's free personal storage space. Who knew all that money I pay every month actually goes toward something like that?

Evie spent the day with her friend today, which was very nice, and Jacob took a long nap. I should have used my time productively, but I was dealing with the whole FTP crisis. Why is it when you finally get some free time - with which you have sworn to either accomplish much or accomplish resting - you don't do anything you want to do???

I don't really feel very contemplative today. I have these articles I want to offer my opinion on and other thoughts roaming around my head, but eh.. you know?

One very cool thing I found while transferring some files...a video of Jacob when he was first born. Now granted, he's all smooshed and pruned, and I couldn't tell right away which child of mine it was, but still. It's so sweet to look at them when they are THAT SMALL! That little squeal of his is so precious. Nowadays, it's not so precious. It's nice to be reminded of how little and innocent they started out. Anyway, I thought I would share. Let me know if it brings you the warm fuzzies.

Inspiring Reading!

I read this article in a MOPS magazine (Mothers of PreSchoolers) in the July/August issue of 2006, and I've had it on my refridgerator since! I love it...it really impresses on me the importance of treating your children special (especially when it's difficult).

Flannel in the Food Court
by Emily O. Wilson, Chicken Soup for the Mother of Preschooler's Soul.

The smell of our wet golden retriever filled the bedroom, confirming that the tippety-tap against my window was rain. I buried myself deeper under the comforter in hopes of delaying the usual morning chaos. My husband hustled around getting ready for work as I milked every last minute of relaxation. Suddenly, I heard the sound of mousy footsteps coming down the hallway and a 3-year-old voice filled with anticipation singing, "Good morning, Mommy! Is it pajama day?"

"Yes, it is!" I smiled as I pulled back the covers and lifted Hayley into the warm bed. She held my face in her hands, rubbed noses, then laced a big wet kiss on my lips.

Fridays are the best days of the week. Fridays are "Pajama Days." They were birthed on cold, crummy morning from an overflowing laundry basket. I had decided to rewash an entire load of laundry that had been sitting unfolded in the basket for several days. It seemed like a less daunting task than ironing the wrinkled wardrobe. Unfortunately, there were several loads of laundry waiting patiently for a spin and not many clean choices. So pajamas made the cut for the day's outfits. By lunchtime my daughter asked, "When do we get dressed?" I stopped for a moment, and then unexpectedly said, "Don't you know? Fridays are Pajama Days! We get to stay in them all day long!"

Here we were, on a perfect Friday morning. Gray clouds hovered outside, bordering a dense black sky. The rain was light but persistent. This was a perfect day to be inside all day in our pajamas.

"What would you like to do today?" I asked, envisioning us baking chocolate chip cookies and finger painting. Without hesitation Hayley said, "Today we'll make bears. You promised we'd make bears, and today is the day."

Suddenly the rain outside sounded ominous. My head started to ache as I quickly searched through my mental filing system. Yes, I had promised that we would go this week and make teddy bears. There is an upscale mall about 30 minutes from our house filled with boutiques and specialty shops, and the toy sore there lets you make your own stuffed animal. You pick out the style, stuff it, sew it, bathe it and clothe it. Hayley had never made a bear before but several friends had eagerly shown her their creations. But today?

I'm not sure if it was the multitude of kisses covering my face or the big brown pleading eyes, but I quickly caved in. "Well, let's get ready quickly, and we can even have breakfast at the food court. OK?"

Hayley and I began preparing for our teddy bear date. When I walked into the family room, there she stood in her purple fleecy-footed pajamas, bright pink robe with an embroidered purple butterfly, sunglasses, purse, and a book fittingly titled Pajama Time by Sandra Boynton. She took a good look at me and asked, "Where are your pajamas, Mommy?" Her voice wavered just a little. "It is Pajama Day, right?" "Yes, but we aren't going to stay home," I said, "so we need to put on some clothes."

The perfect pouter wound herself up and whined, "Pajamas are clothes." Tears welled up in her eyes. A knot formed in my stomach, rolling around and around and pushed its way up my throat, making me want to cry our yell - anything but stay calm and rational. This day wasn't turning out the way I had anticipated.

I closed my eyes for a second to balance myself before I addressed the inevitable temper tantrum, reminding myself that she was just three, and this was her day too. And then I was knocked off balance as I heard myself say, "You're right."

The 30-minute drive went by quickly as I listened to song after made-up song about pajama days, teddy bears, and hot chocolate. Hayley was elated. And I was preparing for the most embarrassing day of my life. As we walked from our car to the mall entrance, I kept glancing around to see if anyone was watching. I made a grand attempt to disguise my outfit with glamorous hair and makeup. But there was no mistaking my gray-and-red plaid flannel pajamas for anything other than pajamas. And the old cranberry terry cloth robe was a poor imitation of a coat.

The mall was quiet. The fountains weren't turned on yet, and the shops were still dark. I began to feel comfortable and relaxed as I thought, This isn't so bad; no one is even here yet. As we entered the food court, the scenery quickly changed. When I saw the long line at the coffee stand, I gasped. What in the world were these people going to think? What kind of mom lets her child go to the mall in a robe and pajamas? And what kind of woman dons the same ensemble? The swish swish of Hayley's footed pajamas on the mall floor echoed loudly as she shuffled ahead of me. There was no turning back now.

Eyes peered curiously at the two of us as we stood in line for our hot chocolate and chocolate cream cheese muffins. Here I was in my flannel pajamas, robe, and slippers in one of the finest malls I have ever been to, all for the sake of keeping our Friday Pajama Day tradition sacred. I obviously had lost control to a 3-year-old.

A gentleman in a business suit began talking with Hayley. Before he could ask the obvious question, Hayley announced to him, the cashier, and several other onlookers, "Today is Pajama Day! On Fridays we wear pajamas all day!"

"Those are the best kinds of days to have," said the businessman. "I wish I could have worn my pajamas today; instead I had to wear this suit."

Hayley nodded her head and then patted the man's hand.

"I'm sorry, not everyone had a mom like mine," she said.

It was the best Pajama Day ever.

The other day I was getting ready to take Evie to a park. I asked her whether she'd like to visit the busy park (where there are usually tons of kids to play with) or the quiet park (where there is rarely anyone to play with). Evie is a very outgoing girl. She LOVES to play with kids. She is never shy, marching up to kids all the time with a happy, "Can I play with you?"

In answer to my question, she told me she wanted to go to the quiet park because she didn't know anyone at the other park. Boy. Does that bring back memories for me! When I was her age, I hid behind my mom's skirt. I never talked to anyone new. I was quiet and would rather play by myself. Now this is probably due to the fact that I had an abusive father, but whatever. The point is, Evie is completely the opposite of me. But when I heard that answer fall out of her mouth, I had to take a double-breath and think for a minute.

Do I comfort her and tell her that it's okay to go to the park where she can play alone? Do I encourage her to go to the park where there are kids to play with? Do I push or pull back? Questions raced through my head. It's amazing how seemingly little things can overwhelm you so quickly.

I asked her again and reminded her of how much she loves to play with kids at the busy park. She again said that she didn't know anyone there and wanted to play alone, so I said okay, and we went. Things were fine. She had a blast, and a little girl showed up the last 5 minutes we were there, and Evie marched right up and started playing with her - no problem.

But I still wonder. What happens when she's 10 and going to day camps or overnight camps? What happens when she's invited to a slumber party with a group of girls? What about joining sports teams? These were all things that would make me break out in a nervous sweat - and I do get nervous when I think of her having to meet and make new friends. What if she chickens out at the last minute?? What if she senses my anxiety and doesn't want to do it? How in the world am I supposed to raise a normal kid with this many issues?? LOL!

Evieisms:

• Evie and I suffer from allergies, and whenever I have an allergy attack, she'll ask me in all seriousness, "Are you having a heart attack?" Today she sneezed and said, "I guess I'm having a heart attack too!"
• With Evie, there are 3 sizes: Small, Meatier, and Large.
• When Evie forgets her little brother's name (because her brain is running a mile a minute), she refers to him lovingly as "this little guy here."
• As mentioned in a previous post, at her swim class, another little girl asked her mother why some of the older women were wearing their shoes into the water. The mother explained that they were swim shoes, and Evie said, "That's the way, uh huh, uh huh, they like it." The mom just nodded her head and said "Yep, that's the way they like it."
  

Time for some introspection. I'm a mom to 2 kids (obviously). My daughter is 4-1/2, and my son is 7 months. I am completely devoted to my children. I love them to death and can't imagine life without them. But I struggle every day, trying to be a good mom. It seems like the title of 'good mom' is quite elusive. What makes a 'good mom?' Someone with patience? How much patience? Compassion? Generosity? Someone who keeps the fun coming, and coming, and coming? What if I don't have the energy for that? Or is a 'good mom' a mom who lets their kids make their own fun?

I think I'm a pretty 'good mom.' I give my kids kisses and hugs in the morning and ask my DD if she slept well. I try to do something fun each day with her, whether that's going to a park, going to the grocery store, making dinner together, visiting a friend, or going to the museum. Am I overacheiving in this area? Maybe, but if I don't, I'd feel like a 'bad mom' who just doesn't let her kids do fun stuff. A friend of mine told me that I should allow her more time to be bored. Perhaps that's true, but it just doesn't seem like that's right. When I was little, my mom let me play by myself a lot, and I loved it. Consequently though, I had major problems making any friends in school and remained very shy. I didn't want that for my daughter. Maybe I'm giving her what I didn't have - living out the childhood I wanted through her. That doesn't sound good. It sounds like I need to be laying on somebody's couch paying $100/hour saying this!

I'm not a 'good mom' all the time though. Sometimes I sink to the level of a 'bad mom' when I snap at my daughter or let my son cry it out for a few minutes when I just can't take the crying anymore. It's amazing that we seem to let one instance of 'bad mom' dash us to failure where it takes a continual level of 'good mom' for us to feel fairly happy with who we are as a mom.

I guess what I'm saying is I'd love to be a 'super good mom." Able to make cookies with the "help" of my daughter (and not eat any), read several stories, keep the TV off, do a Bible lesson (one for me and one for DD), play outside, nurse my baby 10 times, go to the park to learn about rare forms of tree moss or something else vitally important, wash the walls, and whip up a divine dinner all by the time my hubby gets home from work. I'd love to keep a happy attitude, wiping away tears with a gentle touch, having tickling fits on the floor with my kids, smiling, smiling, smiling, being willing to drop any personally important item in an instant to play yet another game of baseball, and never shushing anyone.

Unfortunately, I seem to fall way short of this. Too many times I have shrugged off our plans because schedules didn't work out for the day. Too many times I have kept the TV on because I know my DD will sit and watch and leave me alone a little longer. Too many times I haven't cracked open my Bible in a week! Too many times my hubby has come home to a messy house and a homemade hamburger helper-type meal. Too many times I have shushed my daughter in public for doing what comes naturally to her - asking the cashier if her favorite candy was on sale for instance. How precious! And I shushed her! Too many times I've set my baby on the floor to play alone while I sit at the computer doing nothing important. And way too many times I have said 'no' to that game of baseball.

Do these things make me a 'bad mom?' A 'not-so-good mom?' Does my understanding of these things make me a 'good mom?' For instance, maybe bad moms don't think about these things. But maybe good moms don't have to think about them.

I guess the only way to answer this will be to see my children grow up. All I can do is try my best to do what I think is right and not beat myself up for the things that I just can't do. I've noticed that even on the days when I can't pull it together in time to go to the park, my DD is just as happy to stay home and play outside with me. I've noticed that time alone to play helps her to build her imagination. I guess it's all about balance. A balance between 'good mom' and 'not-so-good mom.' I can do that!

Time sure does get away from me when I manage to steal away a few moments here on the computer to myself. I have a boat load of emails to answer, grocery lists to make online, volunteer work to get to, but instead I manage to dink around on the computer for a half-hour. Oh well.

Today was a nice day. It was HOT though. My DD had her first swim lesson today. She's 4. She did very well getting in the water and was brave enough to leap for the teacher in what they termed a "blast off." She didn't like the kicking exercises, because she didn't like it that the other kids were getting water in her face. She was a bit scared to put her face in the water, and when they tried to tell her that there were fish in there to look at, she quickly told them there were no such things in a swimming pool. A couple of the kids went under by accident. Phew! That made me nervous. I told my friend sitting next to me that if she got a baby flung her way (my DS) that it was because I was going to rescue my DD from drowning. Thankfully, nothing bad happened to my DD though.

Inspired by Judy's blog about how to have fun in 50 days, we made bubbles to play with this afternoon. They turned out really well I was surprised to find out. DD played with them for about 5 minutes, and then somehow the cup of bubbles mysteriously got dumped on the doggie. Hmmmmm. Well, he needed a bath anyway. So he got one.

Want to learn something I bet you didn't know? When someone says "segway" (as in we will use this to segway into that), did you know it is actually spelled "segue?" Yes, that's right. The fun trivia I learn as a medical transcriptionist.

That's it for today. I need to post a yummy recipe and then get to bed.

Evieism of the day:

When asked to hurry along so that we could leave for a walk, Evie responded that she was going to finish looking at some pictures slowly. When asked, "Why's that?" she said, "Cuz that's the way, uh-huh uh-huh, I like it."

Evieism - n. 1. a remark from my daughter Evie whose ingenuity or verbal skill or incongruity has the power to evoke laughter.

i.e.

Today when driving down the road and staring at a No Parking Sign, Evie stated, "Look mom, that sign says P's can't go there."

Yesterday when preparing summer squash and zucchini for supper, Evie asked me if she would be eating the "squishes and bikinis."

Look at me!

I have a new blog!

Like I don't have enough to keep up with, I thought I might torment myself with yet another thing to do. I need a place to talk. A place to be a mom - and all that this particular word involves. Homemaker, doctor, cook, maid, chauffer, wife, etc., I am still a person that needs space to think.

So much for that. Jacob is crying. Must run.