I Am SO Not A Morning Person....

I am so not a morning person. One of the things I hated most about working was the necessity for me to wake up at the crack of dawn and be on the road by 6:15am. Apparently I never grew out of that teenage need for sleep.

This morning, I was in the bathroom brushing my teeth after my alarm woke me up - because I never wake up voluntarily on school days (wow, I really do sound like a teenager, don't I?). As I stared sightlessly ahead, the rhythmic brushing tempting me to close my eyes and go back to sleep standing there, I heard the middle school bus drive past my house, as it always does at 7:06am.

For the first time, it dawned on me that the middle school bus picks kids up - and it doesn't stop to wait for stragglers - at 7:06am. And I know from experience that the high school bus comes by at 6:12am. Considering we wake up almost an hour before we need to be out the door, I started calculating what time the wee ones would need to wake up in middle and high school to be on time, recognizing that they will likely require more time for showers in the morning and makeup and other tasks.

I'm pretty sure I groaned audibly.

As a mom, I think it's my responsibility to ensure that I'm up when the wee ones are. And that they get to school safely, with backpacks and lunches. Yikes. I have a feeling I'm going to start looking forward to the college years once we hit middle school, and that's just wrong. If only I were a mom who knew how to nap, as I don't function well on less than nine hours of sleep. I don't see an 8pm or earlier bedtime as happening for me.

So parents who do have children who wake up at these ungodly hours already (maybe if I'm lucky by then the schools will have switched the high school and elementary start times?), how do you do it? Do you wake up with your kids or do you let them get up and moving before you? Do you take a nap after everyone is off to school?

Because... you know I needed something to to start thinking about this morning, four years in advance.

I Wouldn't Change So Much...

Last chance for Disney on Ice tickets! If you live in the Chicago area, I'm giving away a family four pack to Disney on Ice for Februay 2!

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So Sunday I was getting a massage (I'll pause here for a moment so you can all be jealous of my ninety minutes with Sofia). I love getting a massage, and it's especially beneficial when I've been spending a lot of time at the gym. Note that I say it's beneficial, not that I enjoy it most.

When I've been spending a lot of time at the gym, my IT Bands tend to get tight. And when they get tight, Sofia finds this and works to loosen them up. And she really works. She finds some way to work out the tension I gather there, but oh does it hurt. It hurts badly enough that my yoga breathing sometimes isn't even enough. It hurts badly enough that I finally had to ask her this time to lighten up on the pressure. It hurts badly enough that two days later, I can still feel where she worked on the IT bands. But when she's done there, I have regained so much motion and flexibility there. I know I need it. But ohhh does it hurt.

This time, I tried a new way of getting through the pain, as my breathing really wasn't cutting it. I thought about how nice it would be to be able to have the luxury of the time and money to get a massage like this on a regular basis so that my IT bands wouldn't be so tight on the occasions I did make it in. I thought about how nice it would be to get just a 30 or 60 minutes massage after every time I went running.

And then I realized that I'd need to win the lottery to do that. And that I'd actually do just fine going once a week. Or maybe twice.

I'd also hire a personal trainer to work with me once a week. I don't need someone all the time. And maybe I'd only work with a trainer heavily for a month or two and then go back on my own. I just need someone to get me over the hump with running again - make me finish that 5K.

But I wouldn't sell my house. I like where I live. I like my neighborhood and my friends and where we are. We don't need a bigger or "better" house. I would remodel our upstairs bathrooms and my kitchen, but that's about it for major improvements.

I wouldn't buy a new car, nor would my husband. He wouldn't quit his job or change what he does; he loves it, and it gives him purpose. I'd quit my job though (but really, you knew that already).

I don't have huge changes that I need to or want to make. I wouldn't go out and buy new clothes or take huge trips everywhere. I wouldn't start eating out all the time, and I'd still cook.

But you know what? I'd eat all organic foods. It would be more than just the berries. The milk, the meat, the fruit, the vegetables - they'd all be organic. I'd eat fish far more often, especially sushi. And I'd be doing the cooking, not hiring someone to do it for me.

I wouldn't go out and buy all new designer clothes or shoes. What I've got works just fine for me, thanks. The same goes for flying out some huge fancy hair artist for haircuts that cost hundreds of dollars. I would like to find someone who can cut my hair so it looks good and teach me how to do my hair so I can avoid more bad hair days than not, but I want to do the daily maintenance myself.

There are a few small treats I'd buy myself -- a good fancy camera, a laptop of my own, and ummm that's all I can think of right now. There isn't a ton that I need.

Even quitting work, I don't see myself as having a ton of free time. I'm already PTO president and could so easily dedicate more time to that. I'd like to get to the gym more often. And I really want to start volunteering at a therapeutic horseback riding center. That plus the normal things that need to happen, and my day is complete once you add in spending time with the wee ones.

And to be honest with you, I think that about sums it up. My day and my life is complete. I don't need to do all sorts of fancy things or have a huge amount of money to be happy or fulfilled. While it would be nice to have some "perks" that I don't now, they're not necessary for me to enjoy life. Winning the lottery wouldn't change my life. And I think that's a good thing.

Because, honestly, I don't think my IT bands could take Sofia too much more often.

The Grass Is Always Greener...

Something's been bugging me all week long (raise your hand if you're shocked to hear me say that). When I got back from Seattle on Monday this week, the first thing I did was head upstairs to my sleeping children and try to wake them up so that I could say goodnight to them.

This may not sound that unusual or odd to anyone, but I am a very firm believer in the need of sleep in children. I know how much sleep my children benefit from, and I also know that having spent the previous four days with my parents, they weren't getting anywhere near that level of sleep.

So why did I (unsuccessfully, mind you) try to wake sleeping children? I feel like I'm missing out on them. I see them growing up quickly, and I don't get a chance to spend the time with them -- particularly not one on one -- that I realize more and more I want to because they're such fun and neat little personalities.

My mom told me that on Monday, Little Miss asked her when my mom picked her up from daycare if Mommy would be on a conference call when they arrived home. That's my only daughter's view of me. When she comes home from daycare, Mommy will still be working and unable to ask about her day or play with her or even just pay attention to her.

Work has been really busy for awhile now for me. I work twenty-four hours, and my agreement is that I stay at twenty-four hours, even if some weeks I work more than that. In return, other weeks I work less. I quickly built my way up past thirty hours "extra" that I had in the bank. I've been trying hard to reduce that backup and get back to even, but five months later, I'll end this pay cycle up around eighteen hours.

Granted, I'm really lucky that I work only three days a week and that I do have two days during the week that I can spend with the wee ones. It's amazing how fast that time disappears though.

Little Miss goes to preschool five mornings a week (not my choice - the special needs preschool is five days a week or nothing and she benefits from being there), she comes home, eats lunch, naps, wakes up to eat dinner, and our bedtime routine starts. There isn't a lot of quality time with her on the days that I have home with her.

Mister Man's days with me aren't much better. He's home in the morning and doesn't head to preschool until after lunch. We had a playdate this past Tuesday, and I realized how infrequently we have the opportunity to do this and how much he loves playing and sharing with his friends -- and how much the playdates benefit him and his social development.

The first Tuesday of every month I have the PTO meeting which essentially takes up the entire morning. I have only twenty minutes after Little Miss gets on the bus to hang out with him before we need to head to the preschool. Tuesday and Friday mornings are my only chances to run during the week, so we talk in the car on the way to and from the club, but that's it. Granted he loves going to the Kids Area and making new friends there, but I don't spend the time with him. If someone needs a doctor's appointment, guess when I'll plan it? Or if I need to run to the post office? Or maybe if my car needs an oil change? How about grocery shopping? Yep, it's all during the time that I should be spending playing with him or working with him on something or setting up playdates for him.

Then I run into the issues where the school plans events on days I'm working. Since they rarely try to plan anything for a Friday knowing how busy Fridays are, there's a seventy-five percent chance that whatever event they plan, I'm going to have to miss it for work. Forget the Halloween parade at school. Forget the Thanksgiving craft with my child. Forget the RIF events. Forget Valentine's tea. I'm the mom who isn't there. Unfortunately, with the frequency they come up, I can't take the time from work.

And don't get me started about my actual job. It's better and safer for everyone if we leave that topic completely alone.

But how can I even think about quitting in this economy? Could we make it work as a one income household? Yes, we could. It would involve cutting back on various things, but we could make do. I'm a nicely frugal person. But everything is so uncertain. Who knows where inflation will be going. Who knows when our roof will need replacing followed immediately by our furnace then our hot water heater then my husband's car and then medical issues? Were any of those worst case scenarios to arise, making do would no longer be in my vocabulary.

I work part time. I have a job that challenges me intellectually and gives me great responsibility. They pay me decently. How can you walk away from a situation like that?

Then I peek into Mister Man's room to see him sound asleep with a cat curled up on either side of him. Roar lifts his head at the noise, sees it's me and goes back to sleep. I quietly edge open Little Miss's door and see her surrounded by stuffed animals. These quiet, stolen moments are sometimes all I get from the wee ones.

How much longer will Little Miss say that I'm her favorite? How soon before Mister Man again pushes me away? And how soon before I don't recognize the teenagers before me, grown up in an instant while I was distracted elsewhere.

It's really been bothering me this week. Ironically, tomorrow I have an article or post or whatever you want to call it up on BettyConfidential talking about how I got to my part-time life. Go check it out tomorrow, and then whack me upside the head for forgetting that life's never perfect.

Always Look On The Bright Side Of Life!

Ok, raise your hand if you now have that song going through your head. Suckers! And for the lone person out there who didn't raise a hand, go watch some Monty Python. Please!

Anyway, I've noticed that I complain a lot... mostly just kvetching and not things that are bad, bad, but still it's a negative attitude. I know I'm not the only one, but sometimes I need to remember that I don't have it so bad.

When I was in Seattle this weekend for my friend's black tie wedding, I ran out of hair product.
But it could have been worse - It could have been my wedding where I had no product to style my unruly hair!

When we landed at O'Hare, I noticed that they put up all the Christmas trees and red and green bunting throughout the terminals. *sigh* I hate seeing Christmas things before Thanksgiving.
But it could have been worse - The Christmas decorations could have been up when we came back from Florida before Halloween.

When we got to our car, it was freezing and there was snow on the car.
But it could have been worse - It was just a dusting of snow that blew off as we drove and didn't even need to be scrapered off. We didn't have a shovel with us.

My dad had surgery last week to remove a growth from his breast. It was growing quickly, and we almost had to cancel the Florida vacation to have it removed then.
But it could have been worse - He could have been diagnosed with cancer; we were lucky that it was benign.

Little Miss's bus was fifteen minutes late bringing her home, which means that Mister Man (who has the same bus driver pick him up twenty minutes later) was going to be late for school... again!
But it could have been worse - She arrived home safely and was late due to traffic. I can't even begin to list all the ways this could be worse.

I really don't feel like working this week. Or next week. I'm completely burned out on my job (though I'll continue to work hard and produce expected results because I can't just show up).
But it could have been worse - I look around at all the people I know who don't have a job at all. And those who have jobs but struggle mightily financially. I know I'm lucky.

Mister Man was sent home with a bad note from his teacher last week (more on that someday, I think) talking about his misbehaving.
But it could have been worse - His teacher was surprised by his behavior and hadn't seen it before and was asking me for my thoughts on what to do if it happens again.

Little Miss has been struggling with keeping her underwear clean this fall.
But it could have been worse - She's seven straight days now totally clean (knock on wood) and seems to get it. And the preschool she was going to attend would have kicked her out because she wasn't potty trained (she had been but was regressing the last month). Since she now attends the special needs preschool, it's a complete nonissue.

I could go on and on. Life is only as bad as you make it, and it's much more pleasant to look at the glass half full. So while I complain about various things (and I'm sure I'll be back at it tomorrow), I'm happy with my life. I know I'm lucky, and there are very few things I'd actually change if I had the opportunity to. And really, what more can you ask for?

What A World We Live In

Mister Man starting up preschool had me thinking. Yeah, I know that's a bad idea, but it's what happens sometimes. Things are really different from when I was growing up.

Mister Man has been receiving various therapies -- speech, occupational and physical -- since he was 17 months old. I was lucky enough to have friends who were able to lead me in the right direction when I felt there wasn't something quite right about Mister Man.

My mom had no such interventions. She talks about how many things are so similar between Mister Man and I, and that frequently makes it hard for her to understand why he's in a special needs school and I turned out "just fine." Apparently I probably had low core strength as a child, which led to delays in gross and fine motor development like being able to cut and write properly. You should see my handwriting now, as I never learned to do it properly. And don't ask me to use a pair of standard scissors. My mom blamed it on being left handed, but "we know better now."

On the plus side, we moved around a lot as a child, following my dad's jobs as he was promoted or transferred. I rather enjoyed going to new places and meeting new people, but I know my sister didn't. Married to a math teacher, I know that I'll never leave the state, as there's no way he's giving up his place on the scale or his pension by moving elsewhere.

In fact, while Mister Man has lived in three different homes, we moved to our current house when he was still two. His only memories will be here, and he'll have friends that he went to kindergarten with. I always envied my friends who knew others from infancy practically. My oldest friends are from eighth grade. I wonder how much of an impact on me that's had.

At the same time, we rarely lived near family. We visited frequently, and they visited us. We'd even vacation with my grandparents. I had good relationships with them all and loved them, of course.

With my parents, my wee ones have a very different relationship. They live fifteen minutes from us, and they frequently do childcare for us -- at their insistence. There are times when I wonder if they love my parents more than they do my husband and I. The "grandparent rules" are all well and good when you see them sometimes. I am concerned about the impact of having these rules in play so frequently, but I wouldn't trade their relationship with my parents for anything.

By the time I was four and almost five, I remember heading over to friends' houses by myself to play. And coming back in time for dinner. Mister Man still naps frequently, and so many children are so scheduled that it's hard to have the unscheduled playtimes, let alone the trust to allow them to go on their own without knowing exactly what they're doing.

At least we have sidewalks in our neighborhood, something I learned from my childhood. We never had them, and there were definitely times I was concerned for my safety while walking. Plus, there's far less excuse to cut across neighbors' lawns this way!

I'm a younger mom than my mom was, ironically enough, but in many ways I know more than she did. I've read more than her and consulted more experts. She raised my sister and I as best she could, and we're both contributing members of society.

I can only hope that my children grow up with the same measure of love and safety and respect and happiness that my sister and I did. As long as they grow up happy and healthy, it doesn't matter what's changed over the years. As long as they grow up happy and healthy, I've done my job.