Cras: Latin for "Tomorrow"

Thus, “putting off until tomorrow” = “procrastination”.

I didn’t call for eye exams today. I’m not going to call, not until after Spring Break (around April 15). Nor am I going to read another Asperger’s article, ADD advice book, nor call another Testing Place. Not for 2 more weeks.

We finished school Saturday morning. It occurred to me today that #1 needs to be reminded to have good posture. I probably should check her at the top of each hour, and take a morning to have her dress her best and show her how to sit, stand, touch the floor, etc.

But not this week. We could do math every day, too- but we won’t. A minimal of housework will be done, since I detest dirty dishes and since RootieToot is coming overnight Friday, but that’s it. No planned exercise. Cookies for breakfast, if there are extra cookies in the morning.

And not a smidgen of guilt, thank you very much. The day I die, there will still be laundry to do, dishes to wash, healthier choices to make. So no stress for the next 2 weeks. (And I am DEEPLY thankful to the Lord for allowing me to live in a country, and have the option, to put off work for 2 weeks!)

It’s good to be the HouseQueen!

Caturday Morning Stream of Consciousness

It’s the last day of school at my house. Frankly, we’re going to do math and read for an hour, then head out to a fashion show. Pure Fashion, Inc. is doing a free show at the local Dillard’s, and the shopping center itself is boothing facepainting, games, raffles, and snacks.

Mr Wonderful is studying for his GACE 2. I hope he passes it. He has sworn for the past 2 days he didn’t need to study any more, so I’m guessing he’s a little nervous this morning.

We have all enjoyed the usual Saturday breakfast- bacon and homemade pancakes. The pancake recipe comes from Southern Living Cookbook (one of those unasked-for wedding gifts that turn out to be a treasure over the years). (The other was a set of good knives.) Pizza for lunch, cream of cauliflower soup (hey, even Caturday needs to have a touch of nutrition!) for dinner.

BTW, lunch is what you eat around noon. Dinner is what you eat at night, Southernisms notwithstanding. When’s the last time you went to a restaurant and they handed you a “supper” menu? It’s not even a word, really, outside of Easter, and anyway shouldn’t be applied to a meal that DOESN’T include soup and bread. (Koreans eat soup for breakfast in school, our last exchange student informed us. I wonder if that meal should be called supper?)(I imagine she (our last exchange student)was pretty shocked the first day at South Atlanta High School to NOT be served hot soup in homeroom!)

Caturday, of course, has been stolen as a word from I Can Has Cheeseburger, and between bouts against the evildoers in Bookworm Adventures, we’ll be lol-ing over there, listening to Pandora Radio (we’ve already Youtube’d Moxy Fruvous’ “King of Spain” again this morning), perhaps reviewing an old Batman episode, or Muppetshow.

Aaah, the weekend!

C.O.R.- lol!

My mom has a wry sense of humor. When I was about 8, all my presents under the Christmas tree were marked “To JerseyChick, From G.W.”
“Who’s G.W?” I wondered aloud.
“Guess Who”, said mom.
“I dunno- George Washington?” (I knew by then about Mom and Dad being “Santa”.)
“No. Guess Who” says mom, stony-faced.
“Gopher Wood?”

How the woman kept from laughing, I only know now that I have kids of my own.

Sunday night we tell the kiddos, “We’re going out for ice cream!” They scamper to the van.
“Where are we going?” asks #3.
“DQ” replies Mr Wonderful.
“What’s DQ?” asks #1, who is usually more able to connect the dots.
“Dumb Question” is my reply.
“Mom, there’s no such thing as a dumb question!” #3 protests.
Sigh.

Anyway, tonight we’re having COR for dinner. COR stands for Clean Out the Refrigerator. #1 and Mr Wonderful are having ham-bean soup, #2, #3 and I are having Ban Pho-Beef soup (thanks, Rootie, for the noodles!) and all I can say is, warmer weather better be just around the corner, ’cause I am SO over soup!

What’s for dinner at your house?

My New Pal

Meet my new pal, Frustration.

I’d like to get #1’s eyes checked, but the opthamologist is out to lunch. The voicemail assures me he’ll be back at 1, and it’s now 2:24.

We got behind on a payment to AT&T, but made up for it, almost. Why Mr Wonderful wrote the check for $210 instead of $290, who knows? The check cleared 3/4/08, but the collection agent whose name appears on the letter I got today says the money still hasn’t been received by AT&T.

I’d like to arrange a tour of the local pizzeria during out spring break, and the company website offers the service for groups of kids. The manager assured me he’d call back after the lunch rush. Like I said, it’s now 2:27. (Maybe the opthamologist’s office went to B’ham for lunch?)

I’d like to get physicals for all 3 kiddos, since it’s been YEARS. The local provider hasn’t come back since (s)he went to lunch on Good Friday.

I stuck Frustration under the bed for 10 minutes and wrote a reference letter for a former student who was a blessing and a joy in 3 of my classes. It was the best thing that’s happened all day.

Looking up, the day isn’t over yet, and there’s coffee and hazelnut creamer in the kitchen even now… See ya, Frustration!!

Just Another Grocery List

I’m so glad it’s Monday. Mr Wonderful and I had a blast last night walking the track at the new park downtown. The kiddos played on the lawn in the center of the track. It was chilly, but we had all brought jackets. (#3 assures me jackets are used to keep you warm, whereas sweaters are used to keep you cool. Not worth the effort to contradict, last night.)

I’m eager to get started on chores this morning, however. The second load of laundry is already in the washer. (It’s 4:30 a.m.) (Mr. Wonderful finished his homework on the computer here in the master bedroom at 2 a.m.) The dishwasher is running. Since #3 is sleeping in the guest room (his bunk bed broke a beam)(try saying that 3 times fast!), I’m contemplating going through the “Out of Season Clothes” boxes in his closet to discern how much more he’ll need to pass the summer of 2008 as a size 10.

(#3 and #2 gleefully discovered yesterday (yes, we make the marks on the wall annually) that they have each grown about 3 or 4 inches in the past 8 months. #2 also gleefully received the assurance that her hair is “long and blonde, just like Hannah Montana”.)

Besides math (and the accompanying AS/ADD experiments with #3) and home eye exams, I need to call our insurance and find out if our PCP has to recommend the other 2 kiddos’ official exams. I truly suspect #1 needs glasses, but is hiding the fact…

Must find the number to the health department, since our PCP has directed me to get the kiddos’ annual checkups there. (No skin off my nose- I’d prefer to take my relatively-healthy kids to have their exams away from a waiting room full of sick kids, anyway!) (Health care in America is having growing pains. I shudder to think of what it will look like when I’m 64.)

Must also research more insurance-approved evaluation places for #3, since the Recommended Big Testing Place has a NINE MONTH waiting list.

And put away this year’s schoolbooks (we’ve only math, PE and reading left, and only 5 days left of that), and see what’s needed for next year. And write up a couple of course descriptions for the local high-school homeschooling co-op, since I want to earn some extra $$ next fall.

Plus, reserve a motel room (less expensive than driving back and forth) for our upcoming Spring Break Trip to B’ham, AL. Whoo, hoo!

Of course, there’s the usual 3 meals, supervising homeschool, talking Mr Wonderful through his drive home, de-worming the cat, fighting the red menace, trolling, and balancing the checkbook.

Suddenly I feel tired.

Forests, Grassland, and the Sea

I grew up on the beach in the Northeast. Desiccated, blonde, salty-air’d in summer, and lonely in the silent, snow-less grey of winter concrete and heavy clouds.

I love the sea. The Atlantic Ocean. (No one up there calls it the ocean, when they talk about living with it.) I know it was just a hobby- not like the Maryland crabfishermen of my dad’s family, who loved the sea intimately so they could harvest a living for their families.
My own mom was a teacher’s aide, my dad a glorified secretary. We didn’t depend on fish, or calm waves, nor did my friends, all of us townies at heart. We lived on the beach, not on the sea.

Maybe I love the sea like teenage boys love the girl next door. Puppy love, we used to call it. Not like a marriage, because there’s no responsibility chained to it.

When I was 10, my mom let me go camping for a week with the Girl Scouts. We slept in tents on clean wooden platforms, had evening sing-alongs and clean-smelling latrines, and I fell in love with the silent, deep, green forest. Puppy love again. Did I ever grow up? Am I even capable of commitment, of long-standing joy?

Now I look out my son’s bedroom window as I pray over his sleeping in the late evenings, already feeling the velvet touch of his forehead under my praying lips. His view is of a weedy yard, a stand of trees that we employ to pretend we don’t live close to our neighbors, and 3 new houses where the winter wheat used to grow.
I miss the grassy waves, small though they were when compared to the wild thrashing of my childhood. His childhood seems to be getting smaller every day. These learning/social/whatever disabilities seem, in my mind, to be floating him away like a cursed magic carpet to some land where I can’t see him as a happy kid anymore.

Chili

Note to Self: Although chili stewed overnight in the crock pot is convenient, the vapor from the onions makes sleep impossible. It burns my eyes and stomach.

Why most folks do ham on Easter instead, I suspect.

Quietly creeping through the week

Things are not in crisis here. Mr Wonderful is being, well, wonderful. He made enough to cover almost every bill until the end of the month.

Mr Wonderful has also been offered, and accepted, a new job, on the condition that he pass the GACE on March 29th. Time for more prayer, please!! This new job would mean at least $300 per month more than he brings home now. If the state accepts his work over the past 5 years in private schools as “experience”, it may be $500 per month. Medical and life insurance for the family. 401Ks. Steady paychecks.

The kiddos are winding down the school year, and I’m trying some experiments to help #3 with his problems.
It occurs to me that #1 may need glasses, so I’ve been attempting to get through to make an appointment with an insurance-approved MD. I suspect someone in their office had an all-Friday afternoon birthday luncheon, so it’ll have to wait until Monday.

We had a quiet day at home yesterday, and a quiet afternoon today. Nice. Welcome.
Happy Easter, ya’ll!

Prime

Ooops! When the bank told me my credit card was at 12.99% APR, I naively assumed it meant I would pay 12.99% interest. Seems it’s actually “Prime PLUS 12.99%”. Since “Prime” is about 13% nowadays, that credit card is at a total of 25.74% interest.

Astounding!

Mr Wonderful graciously gave up studying time tonight to buy a handcraft for #3 and to re-check my findings on our finances. The state of our finances is not a pretty picture, but I feel very reassured that we’re in it together.

Still waiting to hear from Big Testing Facility about when #3 can have an appointment. Meanwhile, I’ve begun trying some “cures” at home- smaller sets of instructions, using an egg timer, logging info, multivitamins, etc.

It was also encouraging to see that, although Math with #3 felt like an hour, it was really only 27 minutes.

#2 has 5 more days left of school. #3 and #1 have 10 more days. (#2 worked over Christmas break.) Little or no housework will be done until that time.

Rootie, I thank God you have boys, since your #4 will probably never notice that we haven’t dusted in a month by the time he visits.

It was also very encouraging to get a hug from a M-Family Boy at AWANA tonight, and to have 2 M-Family Boys say, “When can we sleep at your house? Can we tonight?”

(Where’s Sally Field?) They really, really like us!

Looking Down, and Around

I broke down in the counselor’s office today. She was wise enough to walk #3 down to the waiting room (she was done talking with him anyway). For the rest of the morning, the tears are leaking out slowly, nudges of grief and pessimism.

PMS, of course.

Look. #3 is not going to be “cured” overnight of AS and ADD. Frankly, he probably won’t ever be “cured” at all, but I can get him, God willing, to a point where he functions like most folks you know.

What I don’t need is to be put into voicemail at the big testing center Downtown, now that I’ve finally gathered the courage to call them. But I was.

What I don’t need is to be told, “Can’t you just teach him some techniques or something, and we can get on with a normal life?” by my husband/#3’s father. But I was.

What I don’t need is pressure to finish these last 10 days of school in 5th gear. Our kids are getting an excellent education, thank you, and are doing well socially, too. I’d like to slow down to 2nd gear- maybe show a couple of science movies and drop spelling and Latin. Mr Wonderful disagrees, and he is both the Head of the Household and the Headmaster of our Homeschool. So pressure is what I’m getting.

And palpitations, and broken sleep, and tears, and shaky hands, and fear of facing the women at Mom’s Night Out.

There is one thing I’m going to hang onto with all 10 fingernails, though- the counselor reminded me of it this morning. You’ll be able to hear me whisper is over and over, between the screams and weeping.

2 Peter 1:3 His divine power has given us everything we need for life and godliness through our knowledge of him who called us by his own glory and goodness.

Everything. I. Need. It’s already there, held out in the Loving Hands of a Dad who has all power, all love, all the time in the world to cherish me, and bless every member of my family, all at the same time. Done.

We’re gonna make it.