Ok, I knew I had been neglecting my little blog, but when the inclination struck me to look at it today...WHOA! I have not posted in over eight months?!
So what has the Four Walls Family been up to in the last eight months?
Well, first off, the I Clean Up After Myself Campaign? Epic failure. I think that I just have to accept that I am raising a pack of slobs, and give myself over to it. Oh, and the dishwasher died last night, so that will make it even more interesting around here until the landlord gets around to fixing it...
We passed the one-year anniversary of the foreclosure last month. No fanfare. I pulled our credit reports, and actually we're almost fully recovered in terms of our credit scores. Savings and sanity--not so much, yet.
The kids keep getting bigger.
Jellybean turned ten and is in fifth grade. Middle school is on the horizon, and every time I really think about it I start to hyper-ventilate, so that's all I will say about that today. She is still competing in gymnastics, although on a slightly less strenuous level, and her first meet of the season is in a few weeks. Of course, she is stunning in her new competition leo. It actually brought tears to my eyes when I saw her in it for the first time, but that's not surprising. Peanut has taken to calling me Cry-Baby-Mama, lately...
Miss Florida turned eight, was accepted into the Highly Capable program for our district, and is thriving there. Don't get me wrong, she has had some great teachers up until now, but she has never really been challenged. That was most evident the other day as she was working with Mr. Four Walls on a challenging assignment. She was struggling to grasp a new concept and broke down in tears, saying "I don't like not being the smartest in the class anymore!" That, my dear daughter, is a GREAT lesson to learn, and your life will be so much easier if you grasp it now at age eight and take it to heart: no matter where you go, who you meet, and what you do, there will always be someone bigger, better, faster, stronger, smarter than you. Don't let it defeat you, let it inspire you. Learn from them!
And now for Peanut. Oh, Little Peanut. She is still Terrific, just now as a three-year old. All that means, really, is her tantrums have become more mature. I had a really hard time with her birthday this year, though. Three. She's not so much a baby anymore, is she? Since we're done, it was really bitter-sweet for me. I suppose every birthday will be, though. Thanks to my sister for having a new baby the week after Peanut's birthday! Is it wrong that as I breathed in his Baby-ness, I wanted to take him home with me forever? It is? Ok, that's what Mr. Four Walls said, too. And he reminded me that they don't stay that little and sweet for long, as he pointed to Peanut and Miss Florida, wrestling, screaming and clawing at each other over...I'm not sure, really. Oxygen, maybe?
So what about me? What have I been up to that has caused me to neglect my mind-blowing fifteen Followers? As usual, Life. Around the time of my last post, I was getting sick and tired with always feeling sick and tired, so I started a long-ish process of addressing what was going on. Doctors appointments, lab work, etc, etc, etc. Long story short, I have now joined the ranks of the Gluten Free world. It's been six months since I've intentionally eaten gluten, and oh-my-goodness, what a difference! I'm not yet completely symptom free, but at least now I can function. I can braid Jellybean's hair. I can type. I can live without so much pain.
And I can look forward! So much so that I am finally returning to finish my BA! No more College Dropout status for me. So, I cannot promise this blog will not continue to be neglected, because let's face it: Wife, mom of three, employee, and college student...not much left to give there. But I will try to update and come up with interesting observations on what this crazy, busy, wonderful Four Walls Home life brings.
Showing posts with label Working Mom. Show all posts
Showing posts with label Working Mom. Show all posts
Thursday, October 25, 2012
Saturday, March 26, 2011
Two Steps Forward. One Step Back.
Last week we were expecting to finally have something resembling an answer from the bank. Alas, as in so many other areas of life, expectations in this process are a set-up for disappointments....
Instead of a yes, no, or even a maybe, we were told that instead of evaluating us for a short-sale they are now "required" to evaluate us for a loan modification. The same loan modification that we have been told previously that would not work in our situation. The same loan modification that the bank themselves told us they wouldn't consider us for previously.
It will take them another 30 or so days to work through that process. Once they determine that a modification will not work - and if they can do math at all they will see that it can't - then the file will go back to the decisioning process for the short-sale.
One step back.
Technically, our contract with the buyers expired this week. If they walked, as the previous buyers did, that could have been a giant step back. However, they and their agent requested to extend the closing date to on or before July 23rd! So obviously they are still hanging on. It's not a guarantee that they won't change their minds at some point, of course, but it is a positive move for now.
Two steps forward. Hopefully.
As for the rest of life in general, we're settling in to the rental fairly well. It's pretty cramped, but since it's very similar in square footage and lay-out to the first house Mr. Four Walls and I purchased - the home to which we brought newborns Jellybean and Miss Florida - it's not been too much of a challenge to cram in all five of us. There have been a few trips to Ikea, the storage Mecca, since in small spaces the only way to go is up! Wall shelving, bins, and some do-it-yourself honey-do items for Mr. Four Walls should get us out of the last few remaining boxes soon. We scored on some Ikea shelving in the as-is section for the corner of our bedroom - now referred to as The Office - and Mr. Four Walls is going to build in a customized desk top. Once it's all done I need to post some photos.
The other BIG item on the horizon is that we're coming up on the end of our arrangement with our current sitter. Childcare issues....again. The bane of my existence lately, especially since my heart isn't in it. I don't want to find childcare. I want to be home. Peanut is 18 months old today, if you can believe it. The time has gone so fast, and as I look back on the past year and a half, I remember so little of her teeny days. I can remember so much of Jellybean's and Miss Florida's, almost like it they were yesterday, but the fact of the matter is that I wasn't with Peanut much to make those kind of memories, and that breaks my heart. We're doing some serious soul-searching, budget-crunching, and God-seeking as we try to move towards a decision: find new care for the kids, or quit my job?????
If I do leave my great job - and it is a great job - I will still need to bring in an income. One big option on the table is for me to open a small in-home daycare, and I'm thoroughly researching this option. I can also flip burgers or wait tables every evening and weekend, basically putting me and Mr. Four Walls on opposite schedules. There are pros to cons to both options, so more decisions.
Big Decisions. That seems to be all that our lives are about lately, and as we make them we pray that they're the two-steps forward kind, not the one (or two, or five) step back sort.
Instead of a yes, no, or even a maybe, we were told that instead of evaluating us for a short-sale they are now "required" to evaluate us for a loan modification. The same loan modification that we have been told previously that would not work in our situation. The same loan modification that the bank themselves told us they wouldn't consider us for previously.
It will take them another 30 or so days to work through that process. Once they determine that a modification will not work - and if they can do math at all they will see that it can't - then the file will go back to the decisioning process for the short-sale.
One step back.
Technically, our contract with the buyers expired this week. If they walked, as the previous buyers did, that could have been a giant step back. However, they and their agent requested to extend the closing date to on or before July 23rd! So obviously they are still hanging on. It's not a guarantee that they won't change their minds at some point, of course, but it is a positive move for now.
Two steps forward. Hopefully.
As for the rest of life in general, we're settling in to the rental fairly well. It's pretty cramped, but since it's very similar in square footage and lay-out to the first house Mr. Four Walls and I purchased - the home to which we brought newborns Jellybean and Miss Florida - it's not been too much of a challenge to cram in all five of us. There have been a few trips to Ikea, the storage Mecca, since in small spaces the only way to go is up! Wall shelving, bins, and some do-it-yourself honey-do items for Mr. Four Walls should get us out of the last few remaining boxes soon. We scored on some Ikea shelving in the as-is section for the corner of our bedroom - now referred to as The Office - and Mr. Four Walls is going to build in a customized desk top. Once it's all done I need to post some photos.
The other BIG item on the horizon is that we're coming up on the end of our arrangement with our current sitter. Childcare issues....again. The bane of my existence lately, especially since my heart isn't in it. I don't want to find childcare. I want to be home. Peanut is 18 months old today, if you can believe it. The time has gone so fast, and as I look back on the past year and a half, I remember so little of her teeny days. I can remember so much of Jellybean's and Miss Florida's, almost like it they were yesterday, but the fact of the matter is that I wasn't with Peanut much to make those kind of memories, and that breaks my heart. We're doing some serious soul-searching, budget-crunching, and God-seeking as we try to move towards a decision: find new care for the kids, or quit my job?????
If I do leave my great job - and it is a great job - I will still need to bring in an income. One big option on the table is for me to open a small in-home daycare, and I'm thoroughly researching this option. I can also flip burgers or wait tables every evening and weekend, basically putting me and Mr. Four Walls on opposite schedules. There are pros to cons to both options, so more decisions.
Big Decisions. That seems to be all that our lives are about lately, and as we make them we pray that they're the two-steps forward kind, not the one (or two, or five) step back sort.
Wednesday, October 13, 2010
Separation Anxiety
Our sweet little Peanut has turned one year old. The Four Walls household is now officially leaving the snugly newborn-baby years behind with this momentous mark for our last child, and forging full-speed ahead into toddler-dom one last time. First steps, imitation, and temper tantrums are the on the daily menu at Chez Four Walls, and we love every minute of it. Separation anxiety, on the other hand, not so much. I don't mean it hasn't taken up residence, because believe me, it has. What I mean is that we're not loving this stage. And by we, I mean me.
Peanut is a Daddy's Girl. Mr. Four Walls is her world, and has been pretty much since birth. Even when I was her sole source of sustenance in those first few milky-months, she tolerated me to attend to the task of nourishing herself, and then wanted....Daddy. This is such a turnabout from the older girls who, while they certainly loved and bonded with their Dad, searched me out for all of their needs. It was me they wanted in the middle of the night, and when they were in an unfamiliar place they scanned for me. Neither of them went through a particularly painful phase of getting anxious at my leaving or being out of sight, but they were definitely happier to have me close. Peanut? Not so much.
Don't get me wrong. Her eyes do light up when I come home, and she does seem to enjoy when I swoop her up and breathe her in after a long day apart. That is, unless she knows Mr. Four Walls is home. The child seems to have a sixth sense of knowing when he is present before she can see or hear him, and know matter who or what she was engaged with, when she senses him, she has to have him. Right. Now. God forbid he come into the house and need to use the restroom or wash his hands before he gets to her. Lord help us all if, after greeting her and the rest of the family, he retreats to the shower to clean away the days worth of dirt and grime he usually wears home. After over eight years of fatherhood, he is finally perfecting the art of the ultra-fast shower. Even from the other end of the house, even over the sound of the shower, he can hear her mournful cries of "Da-daaaaa. Da-daaaaa."
She'll settle down a bit for me or whomever is holding her, but unless she's sure he has left for good (and sometimes it'll continue even then) she struggles to hold back the crocodile tears. Periodic, questioning "Da-da"s pass through her sweet, quivering, pouting lips. And I'm jealous.
I'm away from her so much. On a good day I spend 120 waking minutes with her, and many days it's less. Yes, it is wonderful that she has such a strong bond with her Dad, and I would never want anything less for them. And, yes, I know that she and I have just as strong of a bond, even if it's not as visible at this stage of the game. And yes, I know that they go through phases, this too shall pass, and yada, yada, yada. The mature, rational, experienced mother in me gets it and is grateful. However, the slightly selfish, overworked, exhausted, tired-of-being-a-working mother wants her baby to want me as much as she wants her "Da-daaaaa." It hurts when I get home and try to give her a kiss only to have her push me away as she snuggles into Daddy. It hurts when she screams and claws back to him when I try to embrace her. It hurts that my presence and embrace has only 1/16th of the calming effect of simply having her father sitting next to her.
So, I think we're both experiencing a bit of separation anxiety: her from her father, and I from her. I look back at how insanely fast this past year has evaporated, and I'm sad. While working and commuting, I've missed so many precious giggles and smiles, tears and tunny-aches. Yes, it was for a good reason - food and shelter are good reasons, I suppose.
In this period of transition, as we separate ourselves from our once believed-to-be-forever-home, I'm anxious to move forward. Forward toward the day when I get to spend more than 120 rushed minutes with my kids. Forward toward the day when I will be able to answer the always asked question of "So, do you know where you're moving?" Forward toward the day of her maturing enough to recognize that even we she can't see him, her Daddy is there, loving her and protecting her. That's a reminder that I need sometimes, too. Silly Separation Anxiety.
Peanut is a Daddy's Girl. Mr. Four Walls is her world, and has been pretty much since birth. Even when I was her sole source of sustenance in those first few milky-months, she tolerated me to attend to the task of nourishing herself, and then wanted....Daddy. This is such a turnabout from the older girls who, while they certainly loved and bonded with their Dad, searched me out for all of their needs. It was me they wanted in the middle of the night, and when they were in an unfamiliar place they scanned for me. Neither of them went through a particularly painful phase of getting anxious at my leaving or being out of sight, but they were definitely happier to have me close. Peanut? Not so much.
Don't get me wrong. Her eyes do light up when I come home, and she does seem to enjoy when I swoop her up and breathe her in after a long day apart. That is, unless she knows Mr. Four Walls is home. The child seems to have a sixth sense of knowing when he is present before she can see or hear him, and know matter who or what she was engaged with, when she senses him, she has to have him. Right. Now. God forbid he come into the house and need to use the restroom or wash his hands before he gets to her. Lord help us all if, after greeting her and the rest of the family, he retreats to the shower to clean away the days worth of dirt and grime he usually wears home. After over eight years of fatherhood, he is finally perfecting the art of the ultra-fast shower. Even from the other end of the house, even over the sound of the shower, he can hear her mournful cries of "Da-daaaaa. Da-daaaaa."
She'll settle down a bit for me or whomever is holding her, but unless she's sure he has left for good (and sometimes it'll continue even then) she struggles to hold back the crocodile tears. Periodic, questioning "Da-da"s pass through her sweet, quivering, pouting lips. And I'm jealous.
I'm away from her so much. On a good day I spend 120 waking minutes with her, and many days it's less. Yes, it is wonderful that she has such a strong bond with her Dad, and I would never want anything less for them. And, yes, I know that she and I have just as strong of a bond, even if it's not as visible at this stage of the game. And yes, I know that they go through phases, this too shall pass, and yada, yada, yada. The mature, rational, experienced mother in me gets it and is grateful. However, the slightly selfish, overworked, exhausted, tired-of-being-a-working mother wants her baby to want me as much as she wants her "Da-daaaaa." It hurts when I get home and try to give her a kiss only to have her push me away as she snuggles into Daddy. It hurts when she screams and claws back to him when I try to embrace her. It hurts that my presence and embrace has only 1/16th of the calming effect of simply having her father sitting next to her.
So, I think we're both experiencing a bit of separation anxiety: her from her father, and I from her. I look back at how insanely fast this past year has evaporated, and I'm sad. While working and commuting, I've missed so many precious giggles and smiles, tears and tunny-aches. Yes, it was for a good reason - food and shelter are good reasons, I suppose.
In this period of transition, as we separate ourselves from our once believed-to-be-forever-home, I'm anxious to move forward. Forward toward the day when I get to spend more than 120 rushed minutes with my kids. Forward toward the day when I will be able to answer the always asked question of "So, do you know where you're moving?" Forward toward the day of her maturing enough to recognize that even we she can't see him, her Daddy is there, loving her and protecting her. That's a reminder that I need sometimes, too. Silly Separation Anxiety.
The Lord is near. Do not be anxious about anything, but in everything, by prayer and petition, with thanksgiving, present your requests to God.
-Philippians 4:6 (NIV)
Saturday, June 19, 2010
I am the Scarecrow! (Confessions of a stressed out, working mom.)
So, I've pretty much determined that my head is full of straw. I am the scarecrow from Wizard of Oz, and I so desperately wish that I had a brain. I used to have a brain, or at least something closely resembling it, rattling around up there, but no more. A working mom (well, all moms really, but working outside the home full-time takes it to another level) seriously has to stretch to meet all of the needs and demands from those around, and sometimes - more than I'd like to admit, I fall so very short. Don't get me wrong, I am not one that has a hard time saying, "No." I don't like to over-commit myself or my children. However, sometimes there isn't much of anything I can take off my plate. I simply have to take a deep breath, dig in, and ask for forgiveness when the peas begin to spill on the floor. Often I can see the peas rolling off the plate, but other times I am so focused on some other portion that I fail to even notice that I've made a mess. Lack of a brain. I'm pulled in so many different directions. Work requires my attention, energy, and focus for 8+ hours a day, plus 30 minutes to eat. My commute takes up another 2 1/2 total, on average, plus another 20-30 minutes picking up the kids at their various afternoon locales. I am not one of those super-powered people that can function well on a lack of sleep, so a solid 7-8 (and more would be nice) hours of sleep is a must, even with the kiddos. This is so true that my wonderful husband has learned that it's better for him to get up in the middle of the night when the baby wakes (thankfully, a rare occurrence now) - happy wife, happy life! It also helps that our youngest actually prefers him to me at night, and has since day one, even when I was still nursing her. (She has him so tight around her little pinky I'm surprised she has any circulation left in that particular appendage.)
...1.5 hours left per working day to spend quality time with God, to spend quality time with the kids, to spend quality time with Mike, to spend quality time with me (!), and not to mention laundry, serious cleaning, meal planning, grocery shopping, visiting with friends and extended family, and shuffling to and from kids' activities (which are nonexistent right now due to the restrictiveness of our budget). Oh, and don't forget exercise - so not happening right now. Is it any wonder that I look around me and always see straw scattered all around!
Confession time: I forgot to send in pictures for Jellybean's Father's Day present she was making at school this week. And I forgot to send in her chips for her class party yesterday. And I wasted nearly 20 minutes of mine and my boss' time yesterday searching for a file that he desperately needed that I had managed to mis-file. And I spent nearly 25% of our grocery budget for the week on pizza last night so I didn't have to cook (and that was after having served Burger King, PB&J sandwiches, frozen pizzas, and I can't even remember what else on various nights this past week). And I was supposed to have a movie night with Mr. Four Walls last night while the older girls had their own movie night on a different T.V., but instead I fell asleep with the baby getting her to sleep. Then when I did wake, I sleepily staggered into my own bed where I promptly went back to sleep for the rest of the night - no goodnight kisses to the other kids, no "Sorry, hon. Can I take a raincheck?" to Mr. Four Walls. All week I stashed the unfolded laundry into the back of our closet instead of folding it, just in case someone came to see the house (which they didn't - sigh). All in all it's been a stellar week, if I may say so - or at least one for the record books, if a record book is kept for mothering ineptitude.
Now I'm off to set the foundation for a better week (and hopefully a restful Father's Day for Mr. Four Walls) around the Four Walls home: laundry folding, kitchen and bathroom scrubbing, HEALTHY meal planning and shopping, etc, etc, etc. I apologize to my friends and family if it has been your "pea" that has rolled from my plate, and I thank you from the bottom of my heart if you have helped me contain any of the scrumptious, green vegetables that I let roll away. I also apologize in advance to my friends and family if they find any of my brain matter in their food or in their homes. At least it's only straw and can be easily discarded - or fed to the neighbor's horses.
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