Stuff to Do

Both the girls are sick. I suspect (thanks to Dr. Google, a phrase I read somewhere) that Pippa has croup, and Charlie is just unidentifiably, miserably, and in all other ways, sick. I should buy stock in Kleenex, we've got so much snot at this house. I think I might be coming down with it too, but perhaps I can hold it off.   I'm planning a menu for this week, and I've decided that I'll just buy a bag of tater tots and a bag of frozen nuggets. For Jonathan, of course. I'm going to cook the same things I would normally cook. I would love to be successful in getting my 7-year old stepson to eat something resembling a vegetable, but you know what? I don't have the energy. It's just a battle I'm not even going to show up for, let alone fight. I've got enough other stuff to take care of.   As a side note, I love country music. I really love it. At some point, I got rid of all my country music, because I let Lachlan convince me that it was

A very wise friend of mine said to me recently, "You can't control 'x', it's not your job." ( the 'x' is mine, as I don't feel like explaining what 'x' is representing) And she's right. I'm trying to do God's job again, because things aren't happening as quickly as I think they should. It's not like I don't know that, so why do I keep coming up against it? Nearly all the stress I'm feeling is simply because I'm trying to handle more than I need to. It's just so hard to let go, you know? I have about 3 situations that are completely out of my control, and two of those are a result of the third. So my friends, please pray for me. Pray that God will unclench my fingers, so I can let go of these heavy, heavy burdens.   Now on to the parenting bits. I'm struggling, I admit. So what else is new? We've encountered a new kind of interesting behaviour - shoving and hitting. Not each other, but

I know that I've been sharing with some of you my latest attempt at the responsible and loving parenting of a 2 1/2 year old girl, and in sharing that, I might have mentioned that I felt as though I was shouting and smacking all day long. Lest anyone think I am a Mean and Horrible Mother, I wanted to say that I was not, in fact, smacking and shouting all day. It just felt that way. As anyone knows, when you are in the midst of something unpleasant, be it a pap smear done by a first-timer, 20 1/2 hour labour, or a really bad blind date (I've had all of these, and trust me - they are all interminable!) it seems like it takes forever. For. Ever. I just noticed that not only was I tense and angry all the time, but that Charlie was very "shouty" as well.   I've got great kids - as far as kids go, I've hit the kid lottery. They are relatively good eaters, sleepers, they are generally extremely obedient, and are gentle with other children. They are pr

This morning, as I prepared to do for the third day in a row what I call a 'busy mom's beauty routine' (deodorant, lipstick, mouthwash), I was grumpily ruminating on how unfair it is that I always come last. It was nearly 9am, and I was still in my pajamas, smelling a bit funky, hadn't eaten my breakfast, sporting some TinaTurner-esque hair, hadn't taken my medicine, and it felt like each time I tried to start doing any of those things, one of the kids needed me for something. And me being me, of course I'd get them some juice before I eat my breakfast, because clearly they would expire if they didn't get it RIGHT NOW. All of a sudden, it hit me. I am the only one who can put myself first. Children, by their very nature, will put their own 'needs' first. It's up to me to say "You can wait 5 minutes for some juice while I have my breakfast." It's up to me to make showering a priority (and it should be, because WOW, was