I'm exhausted.
Three long days of relentless illness -- not mine, but first the baby's, then the big kid's, then my husband's. A stomach virus, a particularly nasty one. Lots of laundry, lots of scrubbing carpets, toilets, furniture. Hours of soothing those I love the most while they suffer and praying I'll stay well enough to care for them. Washing my hands so often and so hard they crack from the abuse.
Add to it all the baby's molars coming in and you have an idea of the lack of sleep I've faced.
And as I sit in the dark silence at nearly midnight trying and failing to unwind, I once again hear from upstairs the baby's insistent cries. Third time tonight.
I want to run.
For a moment, I freeze. I can see myself, keys in hand, running out the door. Down the creaky porch steps into the cool night air. I can breathe there. I can hear the sounds of the car -- my husband's fast one, not my practical one -- the decisive thud of the car door, the sound of the engine starting up as I turn the key, the crunch of gravel under the tires as I make my escape.
Where will I go? The destination doesn't matter. Somewhere with a hot shower to wash away the stink of illness. Really good room service. A comfortable bed. A maid. Somewhere where I will be taken care of, rather than the caretaker.
I'm jarred out of my reverie by the memory of Saint Peter. He ran. After all his big talk, all his promises, he ran from the Cross. And in this moment I want to follow him.
But unlike Peter, I have the rest of the story. And therefore, no excuses.
This nudge from the Holy Spirit is enough. One foot in front of the other, I walk to the kitchen, aware of my mission. I prepare the dose of baby ibuprofen. I pour some milk. I climb the stairs and beg for the grace to embrace my cross (for the third time tonight). And then I do -- all 25 pounds of him.
To my great relief, he takes the medicine willingly and nestles against me in the rocking chair as he drinks his milk. As I rock him back to sleep, I talk to God, asking forgiveness for my selfishness and healing for my family. I beg the Blessed Mother's intercession. And I lift my sweet baby into his crib so we can start the night again.
Showing posts with label thoughts. Show all posts
Showing posts with label thoughts. Show all posts
Monday, March 09, 2009
Thursday, September 11, 2008
Tuesday, July 01, 2008
A boy and his tree ....
My eldest, on moving:
"Mama, when we go to a new house will our tree come with us?"
"No, sweetie, it has to stay with this house. I will miss it, too."
"But can we take it with us? Please? Please, Mama? Can we?"
This was said so wistfully my heart broke a little. And I realized I want to take it with us, too.
"Mama, when we go to a new house will our tree come with us?"
"No, sweetie, it has to stay with this house. I will miss it, too."
"But can we take it with us? Please? Please, Mama? Can we?"
This was said so wistfully my heart broke a little. And I realized I want to take it with us, too.
Friday, June 13, 2008
I bought a $500 thermometer.
Actually, it was $509 after shipping. All I have to say is, this thing better work:
I've been eyeing the LadyComp for a while, because I fell out of charting when I was pregnant with my littlest guy and have yet to really get back into it, mostly because I don't have Ovusoft installed on my new laptop and don't feel like paying another $40 to get a new license (it's not the money, it's the principle of the thing). And even if I did pay the fee and reinstall the software, there remains the fact that I hate waking up at the crack of dawn to take my temperature, and then having to remember to enter the data in the computer sometime during the day. None of this is a hardship, but the truth of it is that I really can be that lazy, and this is one of those things I'm lazy about.
Since I'm terrible about recording things on paper and I don't even remember how to plot the coverline because the computer always did it for me before, I've been doing what I call "half-assed Creighton," just paying attention to my body and physical signs and avoiding relations when there's even the most remote chance of pregnancy. Obviously, there's a whole lotta abstaining going on at my house. (Obvious disclaimer: My husband I have discerned serious reasons to avoid pregnancy at this time. Your situation may differ, so please consult with your own spouse and spiritual director, if needed, before using LadyComp or any other form of NFP.)
We need a better solution than avoiding each other most of the month, and since a miraculous increase in my fortitude and diligence is a nice thought, but probably not likely (at least not quickly and without some effort on my part), my husband urged me to give the LadyComp a try. His reasoning is that A) I'm 27 and probably have decades of childbearing potential left and B) We are not in a position to accept the blessing of a new child every year or so for that span, so the average $50 a year the LadyComp averages out to over its estimated ten-year lifespan is totally worth not having to ever enter another number into a computer, write it on a piece of paper, plot another graph, or roll mucus between my fingers and figure out what kind it is.
Please understand, I don't mean to knock NFP. It has worked for us and we are thankful for it. But we are technological people who like technological solutions. And the easier a product makes my life, the better. So I sprung for the LadyComp. I sure hope it works as well as the reviews I've seen say it does. It's basically just a very precise thermometer, but it also contains and internal computer with a database of something like 7,000 womens' cycles, and it stores data on your own cycle as it goes, so it learns your body as time goes on and tailors its recommendations and calculations to your own cycle. And the makers claim it works well with people who get up at night or have irregular periods.
Anyway, we'll see how this goes. Here are some more pics of the LadyComp (it's a lot bigger than I expected!). I'll let y'all know how it works.
I've been eyeing the LadyComp for a while, because I fell out of charting when I was pregnant with my littlest guy and have yet to really get back into it, mostly because I don't have Ovusoft installed on my new laptop and don't feel like paying another $40 to get a new license (it's not the money, it's the principle of the thing). And even if I did pay the fee and reinstall the software, there remains the fact that I hate waking up at the crack of dawn to take my temperature, and then having to remember to enter the data in the computer sometime during the day. None of this is a hardship, but the truth of it is that I really can be that lazy, and this is one of those things I'm lazy about.
Since I'm terrible about recording things on paper and I don't even remember how to plot the coverline because the computer always did it for me before, I've been doing what I call "half-assed Creighton," just paying attention to my body and physical signs and avoiding relations when there's even the most remote chance of pregnancy. Obviously, there's a whole lotta abstaining going on at my house. (Obvious disclaimer: My husband I have discerned serious reasons to avoid pregnancy at this time. Your situation may differ, so please consult with your own spouse and spiritual director, if needed, before using LadyComp or any other form of NFP.)
We need a better solution than avoiding each other most of the month, and since a miraculous increase in my fortitude and diligence is a nice thought, but probably not likely (at least not quickly and without some effort on my part), my husband urged me to give the LadyComp a try. His reasoning is that A) I'm 27 and probably have decades of childbearing potential left and B) We are not in a position to accept the blessing of a new child every year or so for that span, so the average $50 a year the LadyComp averages out to over its estimated ten-year lifespan is totally worth not having to ever enter another number into a computer, write it on a piece of paper, plot another graph, or roll mucus between my fingers and figure out what kind it is.
Please understand, I don't mean to knock NFP. It has worked for us and we are thankful for it. But we are technological people who like technological solutions. And the easier a product makes my life, the better. So I sprung for the LadyComp. I sure hope it works as well as the reviews I've seen say it does. It's basically just a very precise thermometer, but it also contains and internal computer with a database of something like 7,000 womens' cycles, and it stores data on your own cycle as it goes, so it learns your body as time goes on and tailors its recommendations and calculations to your own cycle. And the makers claim it works well with people who get up at night or have irregular periods.
Anyway, we'll see how this goes. Here are some more pics of the LadyComp (it's a lot bigger than I expected!). I'll let y'all know how it works.
Wednesday, June 11, 2008
Side by Side
Today, I found hidden treasure. My old Photobucket account, which I use sporadically for things like creating avatars and blog headers, contains 111 pictures spread out over six pages. I never look at them. I use the account to host whatever image I need to use at that moment, and then forget about it.
So today, I decided to check out the earliest pictures and see what they were. How could I have forgotten?!
Before I tell you what I found, I first need to give some background. Part of the reason I started this blog was to help me sort my thoughts on homemaking. By the grace of God, and thanks to the advice and insight offered by the wonderful people I've linked to in my Resources and Inspiration list, my house is fairly well-run and looks pretty decent these days. Albeit, my version of "well-run" may look a bit different than some, and there are still a few rooms I keep closed up when company comes over, but they are finally the minority -- most rooms in my house are actually quite lovely. But it wasn't always this way ... much to the consternation of my husband, who in a fit of frustration sometime toward the end of my oldest child's first year, threw everything in my slovenly home office in the trash -- including my laptop computer.
In fairness, the screen was broken and I was not using it. But I had not removed the hard drive yet to put it in a safe place, and that drive contained all of the photographic evidence of Ian's first year. To say I was upset would obviously be an understatement. By the time I realized what had happened, my computer was long gone, and with it, my precious pictures.
So what did I find today in my Photobucket account, but a page-and-a-half worth of baby photos of my oldest son -- all my favorites, no less! I guess I put them there to share on one forum or another back in the dark ages before Flickr and the Blog (is that a great name for a band or what?), and they sat there all this time waiting to be rediscovered! Better yet, my Dad says he has lots of pictures that I've e-mailed to him over the years and is going to burn them onto a CD for me. So I am a happy woman, indeed.
So, what's up with the title of this post? What does "Side by Side" have to do with anything?
Well, this is actually going to be more like "Over and Under," since I can't figure out how to get Blogger to let me put two images side by side. But in each of the next two sets, the top photo is my youngest, and the bottom is my oldest at about the same age. I'm in awe of both the similarities and the differences. God is an incredible artist.
Top photo: My youngest at about a week old (he was six weeks premature).
Bottom photo: My eldest at about a week old (he was full term).
Top photo: Youngest today, at seven months old.
Bottom photo: Eldest in March 2005, at nine months old.
As you can see, the little one overcame his prematurity very well and is now every bit as large and agile than his full-term brother was at the same age or older. God is good, and we are thankful for both of our babies' health and beauty.
So today, I decided to check out the earliest pictures and see what they were. How could I have forgotten?!
Before I tell you what I found, I first need to give some background. Part of the reason I started this blog was to help me sort my thoughts on homemaking. By the grace of God, and thanks to the advice and insight offered by the wonderful people I've linked to in my Resources and Inspiration list, my house is fairly well-run and looks pretty decent these days. Albeit, my version of "well-run" may look a bit different than some, and there are still a few rooms I keep closed up when company comes over, but they are finally the minority -- most rooms in my house are actually quite lovely. But it wasn't always this way ... much to the consternation of my husband, who in a fit of frustration sometime toward the end of my oldest child's first year, threw everything in my slovenly home office in the trash -- including my laptop computer.
In fairness, the screen was broken and I was not using it. But I had not removed the hard drive yet to put it in a safe place, and that drive contained all of the photographic evidence of Ian's first year. To say I was upset would obviously be an understatement. By the time I realized what had happened, my computer was long gone, and with it, my precious pictures.
So what did I find today in my Photobucket account, but a page-and-a-half worth of baby photos of my oldest son -- all my favorites, no less! I guess I put them there to share on one forum or another back in the dark ages before Flickr and the Blog (is that a great name for a band or what?), and they sat there all this time waiting to be rediscovered! Better yet, my Dad says he has lots of pictures that I've e-mailed to him over the years and is going to burn them onto a CD for me. So I am a happy woman, indeed.
So, what's up with the title of this post? What does "Side by Side" have to do with anything?
Well, this is actually going to be more like "Over and Under," since I can't figure out how to get Blogger to let me put two images side by side. But in each of the next two sets, the top photo is my youngest, and the bottom is my oldest at about the same age. I'm in awe of both the similarities and the differences. God is an incredible artist.
Top photo: My youngest at about a week old (he was six weeks premature).
Bottom photo: My eldest at about a week old (he was full term).
Top photo: Youngest today, at seven months old.
Bottom photo: Eldest in March 2005, at nine months old.
As you can see, the little one overcame his prematurity very well and is now every bit as large and agile than his full-term brother was at the same age or older. God is good, and we are thankful for both of our babies' health and beauty.
Friday, May 30, 2008
A Note to Real Estate Agents, Buyers and Sellers
We have been in the process of trying to get our house on the market for over two years. Lack of funds, time and good babysitters means we've had to do most of the work ourselves, piecemeal, and it sucks. We missed the peak, the beginning of the decline and now that we're well into the doldrums, we're just about ready to sell.
In my I-can't-do-another-thing moments, I sit and search real estate listings and try to remind myself why we're doing all this. I've noticed a few things, things I must share. It's a tough market out there, and hopefully these tips will help someone.
NOTES TO AGENTS:
1. Learn to spell. Failing that, please write your listings in a good word processing program that has spell-check, then copy and paste the corrected version into the MLS. Poor spelling is always annoying, but it makes me loathe to even think of dealing with you as a listing agent on a property I'm interested in if you are so oblivious and/or careless as to mangle words related to your own profession, such as SALE, SUITE or LOCATION.
2. Learn to take decent photos. You don't have to become a pro, just keep your thumb out of the shot, make sure you're photographing the home's rooms and features instead of just the homeowner's stuff (I'm not buying the couch, bed, dining set or cool antique sewing machine, so I don't need a closeup). This goes double for people's trinket collections, especially if it's something creepy like dolls (shudder). Also, and this is just a pet peeve, turn off the TV in the media room EVEN IF IT'S THE MIDDLE OF THE GAME and the seller pitched a fit. If it's that important to them that they not miss a single minute, they should have gotten a Tivo. I'm really tired of looking at pictures of 52" football games.
For advice on taking good listing photos (and examples of bad ones), I recommend this blog.
3. If the house backs up to the freaking cemetery, you might as well mention that in the listing instead of wasting everyone's time. I guarantee you'd only get very serious buyers coming through the door. Same deal with the house that shares a 9-foot barbed wire fence with an impound lot, and the house that's pretty much IN the busy restaurant's parking lot.
4. Don't be snotty. Just don't. It doesn't impress anyone, and neither does your leased Mercedes, Hummer or Lexus. Be polite, return phone calls, and always remember that (especially in my area) you never know who you are dealing with, so it's safest to treat everyone as if they were a big shot.
NOTES TO BUYERS:
1. My house has people living in it. Two of them are under the age of four. We also have a cat. I'm sorry if you hate children, or cats, with the fiery passion of ten thousand suns. I promise if you buy my house, I will take my children and my cat with me, along with every trace of their existence. The toys in the playroom and cat litter box in the laundry room should not be deal breakers for you, but to listen to the real estate agents tell it, there are a lot of you out there who will run screaming for the hills if they get the slightest inkling that real people and (the horror) animals live in a house. News flash -- this house is twenty-four years old. People and pets have been here. If you want a brand new, model home, feel free to go overpay for one.
2. My taste in decor may not be your taste. I get that. I've done my best to neutralize it, but I'm not dropping ten or twenty thou at Pottery Barn so my agent can write "Picture Perfect Pottery Barn Charmer" or something like that in the listing description. Like the kids and pet, it's all going with me when I leave, so if you can't stand the sight of it, fear not! Buy my house and I'll take it all somewhere else! (And for the record, none of it is horrible or outlandish -- it's just that I've watched those House Hunter shows where some guy is all "Hmm. I don't like that couch." or "I hate green." and moves on to the next listing.)
3. When I say "at least one hour's notice" I mean it. Don't show up before then unless you want an eyeful of dirty dishes, piled laundry, half-dressed children or worse. I have two boys under four, anything could happen. My oldest likes to answer the door with his pants around his ankles. Heck, if it's the moment I've seized to be able to shower, you could see ME naked ... and you don't want that. Trust me.
4. We pay our mortgage on time every month and have for the last eight years. We have put serious money into the improvement of this home. If you want to buy a broken down, nasty, as-is foreclosed-on home and deal with all the attendant hassles, be my guest, and I hope you get an awesome deal on a diamond in the rough. But don't expect me to price my home like one of those. The reason you like my house better is because it IS better, and therefore worth the somewhat higher price we're asking for it. We're not asking for 2005 prices here ... but we're not going to give it away, either. Like I said, we pay our mortgage. We may want to move, but we don't HAVE to -- and it's not worth it to us for less than a certain price. Deal with it.
NOTES TO SELLERS:
1. The summer of 2005 was three years ago. Please be realistic. I'm not getting an inflated price for my house, and I can't afford to pay an inflated price for yours. I respect your desire to make a modest profit, but when I see you bought for $143,000 ten years ago and want $750,000 for the same not-even-updated house today, I laugh. And if you bought in 2005, God help you. I know better than to pay what you paid, and that's public record. If you're not prepared to take the hit, don't sell the house. Unless you're going to lose it. But in that case, everyone is just going to wait for the bank to take it from you and sell it more cheaply, sorry to say. I'm not saying it doesn't suck to be you -- it does. But don't expect others to pay for your mistake.
2. If your house has an unpleasant odor -- or any odor at all, really -- please fix that issue before you sell. If you're not sure whether your house stinks, ask a trusted friend.
3. I like pets. But if you have them, please note that on the listing -- some folks are highly allergic and pet hair can be a really unpleasant surprise for them.
4. Dog poop. Pick it up. 'Nuff said.
5. Wallpaper. Take it down. Yes, it's a pain in the tush. And that's exactly why your house isn't selling -- no one else wants to deal with the problem any more than you do. Same deal with super dark paint. It's out of style, depressing looking, and a pain in the you-know-where to cover up with a lighter, happier color. So save your buyers the trouble and do it yourself, or pay someone to do it.
6. This one is going to sound a bit racist, but I'll put it out there -- if your decor is overly ethnic, tone it down. I'm not talking one or two Japanese fans on your wall -- I'm talking My Big Fat Greek Wedding-style ethnic. Odds are, the person who is going to buy your home isn't from your country (especially in the area I'm shopping in, since it is one of the most diverse in the nation), and potential buyers will have a hard time feeling at home there with your Ode to the Homeland consuming every square inch of space.
7. If you're a bleeding-heart liberal, hide the Michael Moore videos. If you're a dyed-in-the-wool conservative, stash the Ann Coulter books. We're a polarized nation and you don't need to be ticking off half your potential buyers when they look at the contents of your built-ins (and they will, because we are also a nation of nosy people). So unless the mere thought of someone of a different political bent living in your former home gives you hives, get the really controversial stuff out of public view.
There. I hope this helps someone. Pray for me as we head into the final stretch of preparations and please pray that God would guide as as we search for the very best spot to raise our family.
In my I-can't-do-another-thing moments, I sit and search real estate listings and try to remind myself why we're doing all this. I've noticed a few things, things I must share. It's a tough market out there, and hopefully these tips will help someone.
NOTES TO AGENTS:
1. Learn to spell. Failing that, please write your listings in a good word processing program that has spell-check, then copy and paste the corrected version into the MLS. Poor spelling is always annoying, but it makes me loathe to even think of dealing with you as a listing agent on a property I'm interested in if you are so oblivious and/or careless as to mangle words related to your own profession, such as SALE, SUITE or LOCATION.
2. Learn to take decent photos. You don't have to become a pro, just keep your thumb out of the shot, make sure you're photographing the home's rooms and features instead of just the homeowner's stuff (I'm not buying the couch, bed, dining set or cool antique sewing machine, so I don't need a closeup). This goes double for people's trinket collections, especially if it's something creepy like dolls (shudder). Also, and this is just a pet peeve, turn off the TV in the media room EVEN IF IT'S THE MIDDLE OF THE GAME and the seller pitched a fit. If it's that important to them that they not miss a single minute, they should have gotten a Tivo. I'm really tired of looking at pictures of 52" football games.
For advice on taking good listing photos (and examples of bad ones), I recommend this blog.
3. If the house backs up to the freaking cemetery, you might as well mention that in the listing instead of wasting everyone's time. I guarantee you'd only get very serious buyers coming through the door. Same deal with the house that shares a 9-foot barbed wire fence with an impound lot, and the house that's pretty much IN the busy restaurant's parking lot.
4. Don't be snotty. Just don't. It doesn't impress anyone, and neither does your leased Mercedes, Hummer or Lexus. Be polite, return phone calls, and always remember that (especially in my area) you never know who you are dealing with, so it's safest to treat everyone as if they were a big shot.
NOTES TO BUYERS:
1. My house has people living in it. Two of them are under the age of four. We also have a cat. I'm sorry if you hate children, or cats, with the fiery passion of ten thousand suns. I promise if you buy my house, I will take my children and my cat with me, along with every trace of their existence. The toys in the playroom and cat litter box in the laundry room should not be deal breakers for you, but to listen to the real estate agents tell it, there are a lot of you out there who will run screaming for the hills if they get the slightest inkling that real people and (the horror) animals live in a house. News flash -- this house is twenty-four years old. People and pets have been here. If you want a brand new, model home, feel free to go overpay for one.
2. My taste in decor may not be your taste. I get that. I've done my best to neutralize it, but I'm not dropping ten or twenty thou at Pottery Barn so my agent can write "Picture Perfect Pottery Barn Charmer" or something like that in the listing description. Like the kids and pet, it's all going with me when I leave, so if you can't stand the sight of it, fear not! Buy my house and I'll take it all somewhere else! (And for the record, none of it is horrible or outlandish -- it's just that I've watched those House Hunter shows where some guy is all "Hmm. I don't like that couch." or "I hate green." and moves on to the next listing.)
3. When I say "at least one hour's notice" I mean it. Don't show up before then unless you want an eyeful of dirty dishes, piled laundry, half-dressed children or worse. I have two boys under four, anything could happen. My oldest likes to answer the door with his pants around his ankles. Heck, if it's the moment I've seized to be able to shower, you could see ME naked ... and you don't want that. Trust me.
4. We pay our mortgage on time every month and have for the last eight years. We have put serious money into the improvement of this home. If you want to buy a broken down, nasty, as-is foreclosed-on home and deal with all the attendant hassles, be my guest, and I hope you get an awesome deal on a diamond in the rough. But don't expect me to price my home like one of those. The reason you like my house better is because it IS better, and therefore worth the somewhat higher price we're asking for it. We're not asking for 2005 prices here ... but we're not going to give it away, either. Like I said, we pay our mortgage. We may want to move, but we don't HAVE to -- and it's not worth it to us for less than a certain price. Deal with it.
NOTES TO SELLERS:
1. The summer of 2005 was three years ago. Please be realistic. I'm not getting an inflated price for my house, and I can't afford to pay an inflated price for yours. I respect your desire to make a modest profit, but when I see you bought for $143,000 ten years ago and want $750,000 for the same not-even-updated house today, I laugh. And if you bought in 2005, God help you. I know better than to pay what you paid, and that's public record. If you're not prepared to take the hit, don't sell the house. Unless you're going to lose it. But in that case, everyone is just going to wait for the bank to take it from you and sell it more cheaply, sorry to say. I'm not saying it doesn't suck to be you -- it does. But don't expect others to pay for your mistake.
2. If your house has an unpleasant odor -- or any odor at all, really -- please fix that issue before you sell. If you're not sure whether your house stinks, ask a trusted friend.
3. I like pets. But if you have them, please note that on the listing -- some folks are highly allergic and pet hair can be a really unpleasant surprise for them.
4. Dog poop. Pick it up. 'Nuff said.
5. Wallpaper. Take it down. Yes, it's a pain in the tush. And that's exactly why your house isn't selling -- no one else wants to deal with the problem any more than you do. Same deal with super dark paint. It's out of style, depressing looking, and a pain in the you-know-where to cover up with a lighter, happier color. So save your buyers the trouble and do it yourself, or pay someone to do it.
6. This one is going to sound a bit racist, but I'll put it out there -- if your decor is overly ethnic, tone it down. I'm not talking one or two Japanese fans on your wall -- I'm talking My Big Fat Greek Wedding-style ethnic. Odds are, the person who is going to buy your home isn't from your country (especially in the area I'm shopping in, since it is one of the most diverse in the nation), and potential buyers will have a hard time feeling at home there with your Ode to the Homeland consuming every square inch of space.
7. If you're a bleeding-heart liberal, hide the Michael Moore videos. If you're a dyed-in-the-wool conservative, stash the Ann Coulter books. We're a polarized nation and you don't need to be ticking off half your potential buyers when they look at the contents of your built-ins (and they will, because we are also a nation of nosy people). So unless the mere thought of someone of a different political bent living in your former home gives you hives, get the really controversial stuff out of public view.
There. I hope this helps someone. Pray for me as we head into the final stretch of preparations and please pray that God would guide as as we search for the very best spot to raise our family.
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