Author: jenzug

Bartering Gone Crazy!

Thanks to a link I followed from Maryam’s website, I just spent an hour reading about One Red Paperclip. In one year and fifteen trades, Kyle MacDonald bartered his way up from a red paperclip to a house.

That’s damn crazy.

I think my favorite part of the whole story is when he said on Canandian television that he’d never do a trade in Yahk, B.C., but then someone made him an offer he couldn’t refuse, only it had to be traded – you guessed it – IN YAHK. Poor Kyle. What to do? Fortunately, he found himself a loophole:

[…]You see, Jeff Cooper sent me some photos of Yahk and I’d discovered a technicality. There was a sign from Yahk that read: YAHK – UNINCORPORATED I figured that since Yahk wasn’t incorporated as a city or town or village or hamlet pretty much opened up a giant grey area as to where Yahk actually begins and ends. I could theoretically say that I’m in Yahk right now, and so can you. Yahk is everywhere and nowhere at once, so I was free to go there because it doesn’t really exist. Admittedly, an easy way out, but nevertheless, a loophole. I thought about my loophole proudly. It’s not everyday you discover a loophole. There was a way to go to Yahk after all.[…]

Anyhow, I know a few Craig’s List addicts who might be inspired to attempt something like this, right?

Congratulations, Kyle!

The PB&J Debacle

IMG_2991

Ruthie made her own peanut butter and jelly sandwich today, which was really fun to watch until it all went down hill very quickly. She was very proud, and I was very encouraging, until there was half an inch of peanut butter involved and she was about to slap on half a cup of jam.

IMG_2990

I tried to be very Love and Logic about it by saying, “Are you sure you want that much peanut butter?” and “Can I help you scrape some of that off?” and so forth, to which she answered Yes and No respectively.

I figured as much.

I’m only on page 52 of Love and Logic, so I wasn’t sure what to do next in this latest quest for the right formula of parenting. So what did I do? I resorted to my old ways of taking control of the situation, though I did it calmly. She simply CAN’T have half a jar of jam on her sandwich, right?

IMG_2993

She didn’t see it that way, and threw a fit, earning herself a time-out after making her own peanut butter sandwich like a big girl.

Doesn’t that suck?

Doesn’t that just make you want to shed a tear?

It all worked out in the end, and she enjoyed eating the sandwich (minus about half the peanut butter, which I scraped off during her time out). But again I will say it: this parenting thing is EXHAUSTING.

I Declare Today as “Childish Behavior Tuesday.”

If this seems dumb to you as you read it, imagine how dumb I feel admitting it.

I was tired and cranky this evening. I always pack the days too full when Bryan is gone, which I did today by cramming in a bunch of afternoon errands that I should have just left alone, especially since they involved trying on clothes. Which? Never goes well.

While eating dinner Ruthie kept scraping her fork against my plate, making a screeching fingernail-on-chalkboard kind of sound.

I asked her to stop, which she did.

Then she scraped again, quieter, while looking at me to see how I would respond.

I asked her to stop. Again. Which she did.

Then she TAPPED my plate with her fork while, again, looking for my reaction.

My new phrase for her is, “What you are doing is mean spirited,” because she can be a little shit to me and all her friends with her antagonizing. So I said this to her, adding that I didn’t like the sound she was making, and I had already asked her to stop.

She then proceeded to stick her leg out and tap her foot on my knee, WHILE LOOKING FOR A FUCKING REACTION.

Which I, of course, gave her. In full color and form.

It was not my finest hour, but DAMN IT, she was pissing me off with the testing.

I’m realizing it’s not so much the disobeying that I get frustrated by, because HELLO! She’s three. I’m pretty sure she’s going to disobey. I become completely unglued when she antagonizes: when I tell her to not touch something and she brings her little hand within a centimeter of the thing she’s not supposed to touch and watches to see what I’ll do, when she touches the space ALL AROUND the thing she’s not supposed to touch and watches to see what I’ll do, when she slides her FOOT close to the thing she’s not supposed to touch and watches to see what I’ll do…

Are you getting the picture?

Why does that bug me so much?

Because A) I have a rage problem, which is essentially an issue of being a control-freak, and her being out of my control makes my chest tight and my jaw clench (my issue), and B) she is TECHNICALLY obeying me by not touching, but in her heart she’s giving me the big fuck you! finger, and that scares the shit out of me.

I don’t want my cute, smart, funny, sweet, blondie growing up with a big fuck you! finger tattooed on her heart. I want her heart to be soft, and teachable, and receptive of discipline.

Has my own dysfunction made her mean spirited?

Am I blowing a normal thing out of proportion?

Granted, I acted like a child myself the way I handled her tonight. I played right into her hand. I admit it. But I feel so worn down by this issue at large, and when you add to that a tiring day I honestly didn’t have the energy to be mature about it.

But it definitely has me stressed out.

Baby Steps

I know I keep bringing this up, but I can’t say it enough: I’M FEELING GREAT!

As I look back on the last year of blog posts and remember this, and this, and this, and how angry and depressed and incapacitated I was, I thank God for bringing me through it.

We have come full circle, leaving the gate open for Ruthie again so she can get to the potty when she needs to. As before, she often visits our room in the middle of the night, or wakes up at 5:30a.m. for the day. But this has not caused the same response in me as it did a year ago, and I’m not even using the t.v. to get me through the day like I did back then.

I also pulled out my household binder for the first time in almost a year to access my packing list for camping. Flipping through it I found old project lists, seasonal maintenance lists, my garden journal, and my basic to-do lists – and I was actually inspired and energized by the idea of organization!

Bryan still makes passing comments about my dislike for organization – largely because of the chaos of the last year. I admit, I’m a great starter, but not a fabulous finisher. However, given the circumstances of the last year I will say in my own defense that I used most of my energy just to get the basic day to day shit done without completely raging on my children, leaving very few brain cells for accomplishing anything remotely grand.

Raging saps my energy.

NOT raging seems to sap even more of my energy.

But I am learning new habits and new coping methods. And I’m learning to avoid the rage triggers before my blood begins to boil. NOT raging is becoming the new norm for me, leaving energy for me to get back to the business of Getting Things Done and loving on my children.

I’ve been cleaning my house a couple times a week. My garden is weeded. (Mostly). I’m keeping up with the laundry. And I’ve been cooking real meals again. This morning I actually got up early to plan my week: when to run errands, what to cook, etc. I can’t remember the last time I thought about what to make for dinner before 4pm of that day.

I think what I’ve learned most during this recovery process is that life returns to normal in baby steps. I’ve had to let go of the idea that I could draw a line in the sand, set a deadline, or otherwise mark a launch date for getting my life back.

It started with vacuuming a couple times a week. When that felt easy I started picking up every night before I went to bed. And when that felt easy I tackled the piles of clutter around the house. And when those were all cleared away I saw how beautiful my house was and now I’m motivated to keep it clean so much more!

And now, once again, I’m ready to tackle the Project Lists.

Baby steps.

Eleven Days and Counting

This last week I looked at the calendar and almost had a heart attack: we’re going camping in less than two weeks and I have done NOTHING to prepare myself, either mentally or practically. I said to Bryan, “This isn’t to say we won’t have fun, but I’m really overwhelmed at the prospect of GETTING us there.”

It will be okay. I think I’m just out of sorts because I usually spend several weeks obsessing over every detail. But it’s not like we’re even into roughing it – we are definitely advocates of car camping. You know the old saying of taking everything but the kitchen sink? Well, we actually take that, too.

And I’m not kidding.

Last summer Bryan got a bee in his bonnet to take our hammock, which is WAY bigger than the kitchen sink. We all mocked him for it, the whole lot of us. But then again, we all took naps in it, too.

One of the ways I’m looking forward to this summer, is it will be the first year we’ve gone when I haven’t been pregnant (and puking) or had a baby on my boob. The kids are older and more independent, and will have fun running around.

It may actually FEEL like a vacation this year.

For the sake of nostalgia…

I was looking for something else and came across this old post of mine, and I have to say it is my all time favorite random post. It’s like a Seinfeld episode, really – a post about nothing. And to make it uber-nostalgic, I even linked to the ORIGINAL post in my old Blogger account.

Wee!

Here it is…

“Oh, and by the way, I think that’s got caffeine in it.”

The Culture of Working from Home

IMG_2773

Sometimes, when Ruthie wakes up too early, she’ll wander downstairs to find Bryan in his office and snuggle up on his plush, shag rug. She’ll get to hang out there with him as long as she’s quiet. Sometimes Bryan will call me to come get her, but other times, like this morning, he’ll bring her upstairs to me and she’ll go back to sleep in my bed.

At lunch time we all eat together, and after I put the kids down for a nap Bryan and I get some time to snuggle on the couch and read together before he goes back down to his office.

I often get frustrated with Bryan for his strict boundaries of time, because it means I don’t get to do some of the things I want to do, or projects take longer to complete. But other times, like today, I see the benefits of good boundaries, because it means I can count on spending an hour with him for lunch every day.

And that’s kinda nice.

Coming in for a Landing

Zoe was born on Sunday, a day earlier than expected. This brought the drama of a little panic and rushing, but in some ways I think this was better than the anxiety of waiting. She came into this world as healthy and as strong as our wishes and prayers had hoped for, needing no assistance to breathe or keep her heart beating.

I spent most of the day, and all night Sunday in the hospital with Jen as she recovered from her C-Section, because her husband went to a different hospital with the baby, and her mom took her older son home.

Spending the night on the post-partum floor of a hospital without a baby in the room was very surreal. It felt very cruel, in fact. Grief is a giant shadow looming over you in the wee hours of the night when babies in other rooms are crying.

My neighbors probably think I’m a little wacko with the eclectic musical selections I play. Our houses are close together and my windows are always open and I usually blare my music at top volume. So when they hear anything from Michael Jackson, to Beck, to Gnarls Barkley, to Vinyard Worship music they probably don’t know what to think of me.

This morning as I decompress from the last few emotional days I’m sobbing and singing as I listen to worship music, hoping the words I’m singing will make some sense to my broken heart and confused mind. I need to be reminded that none of this is about me, and it’s not even really about Zoe, but it’s about acknowledging the sovereignty of God when life doesn’t seem fair. For me, fear sets in when I forget that God is in control. This morning, music has been the healing salve that calms my heart.

That, and a little rum and a hot bath.

Things That Make It Official: I’m a Geek!

I’m so excited I could pee! I have butterflies in my chest and my head is going to explode! I have finally discovered how to do EXACTLY what I’ve wanted to do with music on this blog!

Last night I went to a Gnomedex networking party and met a guy named Matt. We were talking about my wish to post song lists or mp3’s in my sidebar, and I told him I’d found Rhapsody, but that it had certain limitations I wasn’t happy about. Rhapsody is good for linking to an album I like so you, the reader, can see what it is or even listen to it if you download the player. But I still have to actually LINK to it. Also, it links to the page for an entire album, and I often listen to music mixes with songs off many albums.

Well, three cheers for Matt, because he told me about Last.fm and I am FONDLY AND OBSESSIVELY IN LOVE with it. Check out these very cool features:

1. I don’t have to download another freakin’ player unless I want to (though you will, if you want to listen), but can continue to listen to all my mp3’s on my computer in ITunes as usual.
2. The plug-in I downloaded automatically uploads EVERY SONG I PLAY into my profile on Last.fm, whether it’s a whole album or a mixed song list.
3. [And here’s what really made me hot and breathless] I copied some simple html code into the sidebar of my website that includes an RSS feed, so every song I play displays on my track list!
4. If you click on my track list, it will dump you into my Last.fm profile page, and you can poke around to see what I’ve been listening to. Also, you can download the player if you actually want to listen to my song.

This is way more use-able for me than Rhapsody was because after a few simple downloads and text copying, it’s completely automatic and I don’t have to think about it. I just play music as I always do, and it eventually channels it’s way onto my website.

I highly recommend it. And if you sign up for it, too, we can be ‘neighbors’ as they call it, and share each others’ track lists like we share Flickr photos. Won’t you be my neighbor?

Cheers!

This morning as I was drinking my coffee, Thomas held out his sippy cup to me and said, “Da!” which means “Cheers!” in Thomas-speak.

It’s a little something Bryan started with Ruthie a long time ago, daddy and daughter clanking their glasses together as they partook in beverages. But it soon evolved into something Ruthie does when she notices she has the same thing as another person, like when she cheers-ed our toes because she wore the same color nail polish as me.

I’m so used to this endearing ritual that it never occurred to me it’s a little quirky. Until, of course, I was at a playgroup last week and noticed a four-year-old wearing the same style and color of sandals that I was wearing. When I stuck my foot out in his direction and joyfully said, “Cheers!” he crossed his eyebrows at me and walked away.

Thomas has quickly picked up on this tradition, and now whenever we’re holding a beverage at the same time I’m sucked into the toddler-style uber-repetition of cheers-ing his sippy cup. It never ends. And just now as I was sweeping, he jabbed my little hand whisk out in front of him and said, “Da!” as he tapped my broom.