Lead Me

In my morning prayer I had a simple, yet crazy complex request of God to “lead me”, to prompt my spirit into action, to pull into movement His plan for me.  God knows my plan isn’t really working well.  I completely recognize that I need to hit the reset button.  The awesomeness of God’s grace is that I don’t need to perfect anything before coming to the throne of God.  I can just show up, just as I am.

In the area of health and well being, I’ve been complacent. As a mother, I’ve been directive and at times fighting an uphill battle of a match that doesn’t need a warrior, but a nurturer.  In my marriage, I’ve been an inactive listener, I need to be present and engaged.  At work, a multi-tasker that is juggling too much and desperately needs focus on an action until it’s completed.  My writing, in need of dedication and discipline in just getting it done.  My relationships with others, to be present and not provide excuses or avoid being engaged.

Lord, please lead me in better choices about food, my health, in my relationship with my children, my husband, my work, my writing, my relationship with friends and family.  Help me to be “me focused” where it’s needed to shape me to be a disciple of Christ, to be the person you designed me to be.

Lead me, prompt me, move me towards the plans you have for me – Amen.

Hebrews 4:16.

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The Attack of the Giant Green Caterpillar

I went out to my garden today intending to pick a handful of tomatoes.  What do I find?  A giant green caterpillar eating my tomato plant.  I tapped the branch and it reared back.  I took that as an aggressive move and defended myself by pulling back on the branch and launching him about 20 feet out of my garden.   It was so big  and heavy that it really did fly that far.

I wonder what Camp Ferrara will bring tomorrow?   Won’t matter, I’m ready.

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Camp Ferrara

Thanks to all who follow my musing,  random thoughts,  and crazy tactics that keep my life full of creative thinking and crazy execution.

Things have been going great with the boys since the end of strike, we have our moments of “that’s so unfair” and learning moments.  I’ve now turned my attention to the wildlife at Camp Ferrara.  Our backyard maintains it’s own ecosystem and wildlife challenges.

 

I’ve been battling wildlife in my yard, instigating squirrels who when I shoo them away or send the dogs running after them chatter loudly their discontent as if they owned the place.  The chipmunks decided to move closer to the garden, well they made a basement apartment underneath the weed block of the garden box.  Now when I’m working in my veggie box I half expect a chipmunk or snake to run across my feet.    I’ve shoved thorny weeds in the holes and thought that was working, but apparently it was received as grocery delivery.  Yes they’re cute, but either I or my dogs are going to break our ankles in one of the crazy holes.   So I’m trotting down the humane approach, did some online research and put together my arsenal.

1.  The solar owl with the twisty head.  This guy rocks,  I placed him on the deck right next to my strawberry plant and so far its working pretty well.  The squirrel activity in the back yard is reducing.  My bushy tailed friends are keeping their distance from the house and chattering at the owl.  I move him around a bit so he’s not stuck in one place.  The cool part is that he turns his head every once in a while.  If he wasn’t there then I’d spend my morning coffee seething over the sight of the squirrel sitting on my strawberry plants getting first chomp of the sweetest strawberries I’ve ever had.   I’d run out yelling at the squirrel like a crazy person to have it back up one step and flash its tail at me.   I was hoping it would be intimidating enough for them to move out, but no the squirrels are just more cautious.  My boys want me to get the one that looks like it’s swooping in flight, which would be funny but not at it’s price point.

2.  Scram sticks for the garden.  Given that my chipmunk friends think they’re living on a small farm just for them.  I bought scram sticks, which are blocks of soaked, nasty smelling, all natural cork blocks that are put on sticks in the garden.  This stuff is so foul smelling I think if I had to have this all the time in my space, I’d move out.   I’m not sure if it’s working, Greg said the chipmunks are using some of the holes near the garden.  They may have moved out of the box itself, but they basically moved to the hole just outside the garden.

 

3.  Fox urine granules – this is my next tactic;  I don’t even want to know how they make this stuff, I’m just hoping it works.  I’ll sprinkle this stuff in high rodent running areas and home sites as a last warning that they are being hunted.

I hope after all this effort that the squirrels and chipmunks pack their nuts and move out.   If not, then I move onto filling the little holes with sand, finding the hawk rehabilitation guy to stop by with a recovering feathered friend to hunt; and getting an arborist to come in and trim back the trees that are closest to the house.

Now to devise a plan for our resident doe (and twin fawns) who has become aggressive and has been charging and stomping dogs.  Including one of my own (no injuries, just bruised pride).  She’s also been following people on the cart path with dogs, so obviously she’s trying to protect her brood and has had a run in with a dog previously.  I’m hoping that as the fawns are able to move faster, her anxiety will reduce.  For next year  we’re discussing clearing all the underbrush by the lake so it’s a less desirable spot for the deer to nest in at night.

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Day 11 – Truce

I’m pleased to announce that a truce brunch was hosted today.  The strike is officially over, Mommy goes back to work but the boys have learned what it means to pitch in and not take for granted the job of Mom.

At the brunch we talked about what we learned and what would be different.

What the boys have learned (from the mouths of babes):

1.  When Mom says she’s on strike, she’s not kidding.

2.  I now realize that Mom and Dad do a lot for us, much more than I (we) thought.

3.  There’s a lot that goes into making a meal – a lot of planning, pots and clean up.

4.  At first I didn’t like having to do so much work, but after a while I felt proud for helping.

What’s going to be different?

1.  If I see something that needs to be done, I should just do it and not wait to be asked.

2.  I need to pick up after myself.

3.  If I’m asked to do something, I should do it right then and not wait, I didn’t like waiting to get my stuff done.

4.  I want to help cook more.

The main objective was obtained, we learned that we are a team and the household cleanup is a team event.  I’m certain I’ll never obtain perfection in getting an 11 and 12 year old to help around the house.  They now have a flavor of how their helping out can lighten the load and open up some quality time we can share together.

Mid week in the spirit of  good faith, I took G out to a movie, I was able to because he cleaned the whole kitchen and took the trash out to the curb without being asked, and before I ended my work day.  It was awesome, so I rewarded him with a movie out and reinforced that pitching in helps everyone in the house which also opens up more family time.

The strike is officially over at day 11, the toughest part for me was to leave things alone, not make dinner and serving it, just picking it up because it was driving me nuts to look at it.  I followed through, I’m proud of myself for not caving in.  Every trip to school had a cost, every meal was not served by me, I didn’t do their dishes, take the trash or recycles out, I left it alone and they learned too.   We’re at least on the road to better cooperation and I’m looking forward to eating as a family tonight.

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Day 4, 5 & 6 – Strike, One Step Back, Two Steps Forward

Who would have guessed that Friday and Saturday no one had the “need” to play Minecraft!?!  It wasn’t until last night did anyone notice that the network was down, how dissatisfying that was!  G took advantage of the X-Box all to himself Friday night.  Mike returned home Saturday and we fell into our routine, no one had time to really worry about electronic devices.  We had some interesting moments, G is definitely feeling the pinch, he’s $4 poorer, now completely out of cash.  G is also on my high contributor to the house list for Saturday.  He’s been great about keeping after stuff in the kitchen and helping me in the garden getting the dirt turned with peat moss and the young plants and seeds into the ground.   Mike on Saturday, was a bit missing in action, he managed to figure out how to do his own laundry for his upcoming trip.  I’m not sure if he used soap, but he did it.  I’m still not cooking, but I am coaching.  Saturday night they made their own grilled cheese burgers, they were pretty excited.

Sunday, I heard music to my ears.  G was up first, we had breakfast and he started loading the dishwasher and cleaning the counter tops.  It wasn’t perfect, but you know, I didn’t have to do it or ask.  That was sweet.  When he finished he decided to watch some Discovery Channel thing.  Mike, shows up downstairs about 11AM and grabs a bowl of cereal.  I’m in my office preparing a package to go out the door.  I hear G heading for the kitchen, he’s filling up his glass with ice and water.  The next thing I hear is a clink of a bowl and spoon on the counter top.  Then the music starts;  G “MICHAEL, I JUST CLEANED THIS WHOLE KITCHEN, PUT YOUR BOWL IN THE DISHWASHER!”   Mike, apologizes and I hear the dishwasher open and shut.  That was rewarding.

I didn’t give them much free time on Sunday like I usually do,  we have to clear the way for a moving company to come in and move several pieces of heavy furniture around here.  Let’s just say what went from their idea of helping to my idea of helping was not well understood.  It was a battle to get work done.  Gregory complained that he had cleaned the whole kitchen, while sleeping beauty did nothing.  I explained the mission, to complete the space we built out to enjoy with our friends and family!  I think their on board, but no.  Mike’s on board, he has visions of playing video games with his buddies dancing in his head.  I’m not sure what G was thinking, but it wasn’t about diving into the speed rounds of sorting broken items for the trash, donated items or  items to be boxed and  moved to another floor of the house.  I thought I was making it fun, but not enough for G to keep on the field.  The nag in me came out, and after a bit – I asked him to leave if he wasn’t going to help.  He left the room. Mike and I finish up.

Mike also has homework to complete his homework before his trip and pack his luggage.  I had to ask a few times to get him to actually sit down and get the homework done, and he didn’t complete the packing on Sunday.

I haven’t been grocery shopping since the beginning of strike, the food supply is low.  I decided that we should go out to dinner before Mike’s big out of town trip, calling a bit of a truce.  As luck would have it the boys left a mess in Greg’s office at the church and the Union Rep cancelled dinner out.  We haven’t been out to dinner, or eaten as a family since the strike began either, the boys were very disappointed.  I made a very simple dinner at home, and two young men took care of the trash, recycles, unloading and loading the dishes.  They wouldn’t let us help.  They asked if I would come off strike and I said no.  I’m looking for consistency in behavior, not just the first signs.  The Union Rep is doing a great job in reminding and negotiating terms, I think it’s too soon to return to my normal role.    The Union Rep is supporting the decision, but I can tell I better include him in my next dinner preparation to keep him from going off the deep end.

Monday rolls around, G’s alarm doesn’t go off.  I wake him up and he announces he can’t get to school, he’s out of cash.  I tell him to get ready, I’ll think of something.  A sarcastic “Oh, great” comes from his little face.  He comes down stairs makes his own breakfast and I notice that the ‘homework desk’ needs to be tidied up.  It’s  five minute job, so I let G know I’ll drive him to school if he gets that done now.  He does, I drive.

In the afternoon, Mike still has not packed his suitcase for his DC trip, but he’s managed to complete another load of laundry when he gets home from school.  He shows up in my office at 6 to announce that he doesn’t have any underwear or socks.

Here’s how that went:

I asked, “Did you know this yesterday when you were supposed to pack and I had a day off?”;  Mike defends his position, “No, I don’t know where they go…. I put them in the laundry room and they just disappear!!”; I’m half afraid to ask the question but I do, “Mike, where’s all the underwear you wore this past week?”  Mike thinks about blaming his brother, but changes his mind with an “I don’t know, they’ve disappeared!!”  Now I’m laughing, “Into thin air?!”  He’s now feeling bad, so to not antagonize the situation I tell him I’ll go out with him to get him some essentials.  I walk by the laundry room and there are three baskets filled with clothes, I suspect the missing items are buried in one of them.  I’m on strike, so I don’t dig through.  I trade the errand for weeding the front flower beds when he gets back from DC.  Right now Mike is so excited, I bet he’s thinking he’s escaping to great meals out, maid and room service!!   Yeah, good luck buddy, you’re sharing a room with 5 other boys, I can’t imagine what that’s going to look like!

On the errand run I grab a couple of steaks for the Union Rep and I, the boys have made their own dinners earlier, not as grand but they are doing okay with the prep and pickup.  It’s getting through to them, they keep asking for me to come off strike, I don’t want to have to remind them to take the trash out or to pickup behind themselves, which I still catch myself giving hints here and there.   We’re making progress, and I don’t expect perfect, just more progress than pain.

They say it takes 30 days to make or break a habit…. I think the Union Rep would freak out if I waited that long to go back to normal.

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Day 3 – Strike and Smoke

This morning, I slept in a little, after all I’m on strike and I might as well take advantage of the perks.  Apparently G woke up too late to catch the 6:50AM bus, so he paid his Dad (the Union Rep) $2 for a ride.  Mike, no impact, he rides his bike to school.  Mike, however, made a point to get a folder this AM to collect all his work for next week at school, he heads to Washington DC with a group of kids from school for a week long trip.  Good for him on the proactive side.

Greg and I discussed last night that we shouldn’t be expecting the guys to execute anything we wouldn’t do ourselves.  That’s a good point.  So if I expect beds to be made, my bed better be made.  If I want dishes in the dishwasher after they’ve been used, then I should also demonstrate that, vs stacking near the sink for someone later.   We’re all guilty of it, dishwasher is full of clean dishes, you don’t take the time to empty it right then, so the dishes get rinsed and stacked for later.  I’ve been extra careful to make sure I’m modeling what I’m expecting.  After dinner, I clear my spot, put my dishes in the dishwasher.  I made the bed, I cleaned the counter off in the bathroom of all my stuff when I was done using it.  I put my laundry away.  There is nothing that they can point out and say “But Mom, you didn’t do it” because I did. Do you know how hard it is to leave a dirty knife on the counter with a ripped strip from a frozen meal box?  There was also a bowl and a spoon out on the kitchen table – but I left it, I’m on strike.  Every small thing adds up.  That’s how I ended up here, things getting left behind for later.  Then next thing you know your rushing around picking up, ranting about how you don’t have time for this, barking orders at people who disappear upstairs because there’s a lunatic running around on the lower floor.  I can’t blame them, but I also know you reap what you sow.   I give them attitude about the cleanliness of the house, they give me attitude about cleaning it.

Greg and I went to the elementary school for G’s DARE Graduation.  DARE is a program that runs about 10 weeks and works with the kids in role play and decision making as it relates to the use and abuse of drugs and alcohol.  It was important to him for us to be there, so of course we went.  There was an option to take the kids out of school early, Greg and I let him know we were going to lunch to discuss the strike, he would take the bus home.   Many kids stayed behind, but generally I would have taken him with.  We have been letting G walk from the bus stop, not picking him up in the golf cart.

Mike came home, and here’s what happened:

Mike:  “Mom, I have something to ask you.  Okay, here’s what I want to do…. I’m going to look around and see if anything needs to be done, like unload the dishwasher.  Then I want to know if I can go to Hunter’s house for a little bit and then meet up at Max’s house and sleep over.”

Clearly agenda driven, but I don’t care, he thought through what it would take to get a yes out of me.   He even considered the current Strike situation, and how to demonstrate to move towards a amicable reconciliation.  So he’s not clueless after all, he’s just selective in what to show response to.  I should groom him for professional poker playing, he’s brilliant!!  This little fire under their butts has a spark and a little smoke now from both boys.

Me:  “A few questions first;  1.  Did you get all your homework from your teachers today?”

Mike:  “Yes, two worksheets and the rest said to enjoy the trip.”

Me: “2.  Is your bed made?  3.  Dishes from this morning taken care of? 4.  Is your laundry done and ready for your trip?”

Mike:  “I’ll go make my bed.  I just took care of the dishes. I’ll get my laundry started.  Then can I go?”

Me:  “I’ll think about it”

G shows up a few minutes later to ask if his buddy from school can come over tomorrow if he takes care of all his stuff.  I say sure and am thinking I may not have a fire, but we’re smoldering on the progress.

Mike came back later, after watching some TV and asked if he had permission to go. I told him to go work on the homework until his Dad came home from sound check, just to make sure there’s nothing planned by the Union Rep.  I also take the opportunity to remind Mike that he needs to take his upcoming  drum gig seriously, that he has Tae Kwon Do at noon tomorrow, pack for his trip and get his homework done before he leaves for DC.  Now he’s conflicted and asks me what he should do.

Me:  “Given all that you have to get done, what do you think you should do?”, the tears roll down his face, the drama is building.

Mike:  “I don’t know what to do, I’m feeling a lot of pressure, I was looking forward to hanging out with the guys;  Please just tell me what to do”.   I now have a spark moment with Mike.  The root of the problem…. I tell him what to do so often, he doesn’t think for himself.  So when he walks by a mess or a full trash can he does nothing, because I didn’t tell him to.  Even after several discussions about being proactive – he has no idea what that means to me.

Me: “Well, you’ve never had to really deal with the planning of this all before right?”

Mike:  “No, ma’am”.

Me:  “Tell me what you think you should do”

Mike:  Clearly upset, and tears rolling, “I guess I’m not going to Max’s house”.

Me:  “Tell me why you’re crying”

Mike: “I don’t know what to do.  I was really looking forward to going, and if I say I’m still going, even if I take care of the other things, you might be disappointed”.

Hmm a second spark, Mike wants to please us.  This is nice, good to know for leverage in the future, but it won’t work for survival.  We clearly need to give him more opportunity to make plans, priorities and decisions aligned to his responsibilities and thinking through what is right and taking action.  I don’t mind him using disappoint as a decision gauge, but ultimately I want him to feel accomplished and proud because of what he’s decided and done, for his benefit and happiness that we can all celebrate together.  The Union Rep and I need to discuss the plan to align on his responsibilities, setting some expectations of success together so we can all understand the terms of the job and reduce the levels of disgruntlement on both sides of the table.

Me:  “I didn’t say no to anything, I just want to know how you’re going to make sure you’ve covered your responsibilities.  Take a minute to think about it.”

Mike: “Okay, I’m going to practice drums until Dad get’s home, then I’m going to Max’s;  Tomorrow after Tae Kwon Do, I’ll complete my homework and pack for the trip.”

Me: “Sounds like you have a plan.”

Mike:  “Okay, I’ll go practice drums now”, so he did, and then off to Max’s for broccoli pizza.

Much to my dismay, no one tried to get online this afternoon.   We’ve got a smoldering effect going on right now, I’m skipping a night of tactic deployment I don’t want to smother or wave off progress.  If they back slide, well then there’s a good time to throw another tactic at them.

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Day 2 – Strike and Spark

I finally struck a nerve with G. He woke up late this AM and asked if I could drive him to school. My reply simple “I’m on strike, you better get going you’re really late”. He rushed through a shower, gobbled a quick breakfast and asked if I could drive him to the bus stop. Here’s how the dialog went:
Me: “There is no point in my driving you to the bus stop, you are too late for the bus.”
G: “Well, can you drive me to school then?”
Me: “Do you have $2?”
G: “What for?”
Me: “To drive you to school”
G: (annoyed) “Why would I pay YOU to take me to school?”
Me: “Why do I have to drive YOU to school?”
G: “This strike SUCKS, I don’t have $2, I have a $5 bill!!”
Me: “I can give you change”,  I took his $5 bill and put it neatly in my wallet, then dished out his change, some of which were the quarters I had recently received from him for a nice fold-able dollar bill.

So here we were too late for the bus, too early to drop off at the school so I mention that Marci will be here soon and he had a few minutes to square stuff away. He did nothing. Marci did, and I suspect that it will be quite an effort for him to find some of his beloved items like his headphones, the book he’s been reading, cleats and shin pads, and his favorite socks.

On the way out of the driveway I mention that it appears they forgot to take the trash cans out.  G tells me it’s not a recycle week.  I ask about the household trash, he says that’s Mike’s job.  “Did you know it needed to go out last night?”;  “Yep, but that’s Mike’s problem”.   So we got into the discussion about noticing things that need to be done and random acts of kindness.  We all have chores around the house and I sometimes take care of them, just to be a good citizen or to be kind.  He nods his head.  We’ll see later in the week how that nod looks when the trash is overflowing and they both have to manage mashing stuff down into the cans.   Greg and I made a decision to not take the trash down to the curb to make the point that their household responsibilities are important and that overflowing trash is not fun to manage.   I hope our neighborhood dogs, racoons or other trash sampling creatures stay away, that would really suck.  Mike’s response to forgetting the trash was a deep sigh.

This evening I didn’t leave myself enough time to eat dinner, and decided to stop for pizza, with plans to bring home leftovers for Greg.  I really struggled with going at all, with the boys in tow.  Would this equate to “making dinner”?  I needed to eat, so we stopped in, I let the boys know I was conflicted.  They both said they were hungry, they did make their own dinner earlier (and cleaned up after themselves without prompting), they only had a small sandwich.  Truly an error on their part.   I opted for no frills, large cheese pie, a small side salad with water to drink;  I shared the pizza with them.  The dinner conversation was somber, two sulking boys, then G broke the silence with a question,  “So, when does the strike stop?”, my simple reply “When will you two change your actions?”   G’s response, “Right now”.   So I gently tell them both that actions speak louder than words, that they will have to show me that they understand by taking care of their responsibilities on a consistent basis.   I know that my action in the declaration of the strike and sticking to my terms are now being perceived as a real issue.  Mike for the most part, stared at the TV in the dining area, and didn’t contribute to the conversation.  I see small changes from both, but no real commitment from the team to meet the terms.  I’ll have to consult with the Union Rep.

The check arrives and G grabs it and pulls out his wallet, insisting on picking up dinner.  I at first told him I would take care of it.  He said he really wanted to cover it, so I graciously thank him and ask if I can at least cover the tip.  He agrees, I teach him how to calculate the tip, I hand him my portion.  He proudly carried his Dad’s dinner out to the car, he feels accomplished.  I think G is starting to get it, Mike on the other hand, not so much (in fairness he did move Marci’s trash bags from the garage to the can when we got home).

Mike has been Marci’ed for certain, he can’t find his Kindle charger, it’s not where he left it.  He just asked if I can help him find it.  “I’m on strike.”

Night maneuvers for tactic two:  Internet password get’s reset.  This one will definitely get Mike’s attention, plus disconnect him from my tactic deployment plans.  Good night Mike.

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On Strike

I’m on Mommy Strike.  It’s not very sophisticated, my union rep is my husband.  My frustration has been growing with the boys not contributing to the house, or doing so with a negative attitude, as if they are too good for it, it’s a girl job.  Screeching vinyl record sound should be inserted here.  Well Mommy and the Union Rep are bringing some young men to the school of ‘real life’.

We have an evening routine, one boy empties the dishwasher (if I haven’t gotten to it) while I cook and sets the table, the other boy clears the table and puts the dishes from the table directly into the dishwasher (while I wipe down the counters and wash the pots/pans), this alternates all week long.  I’ll sometimes go to another room to stay out of the way of their bustling around.

Saturday, after  getting G to soccer, hosting a boy requested lunch at Taco Mac and a run to Pike Nursery (cut short because some short people had upset stomachs from too much soda) we have a relaxing late afternoon where I also took a few minutes to empty the dishwasher.  I later start up dinner, set the table and serve.  I remind G that it’s his turn to clear and load the dishwasher, he says ‘okay’ after a bit of grumbling.  After dinner I left the room, I hear G working on the dishes, but he doesn’t finish, he’s left dishes on the table and a few glasses, not dinner related are left behind as well.  Hmmm, I let him know he’s not finished, he starts arguing that he is.  I tell him I love him too much to argue, go to bed, I’ve got the rest.  He’s perfectly okay with that.  I don’t know about you but the guilt of knowing my parents were doing something I was asked to accomplish wouldn’t allow me to sleep well.  G has no trouble sleeping.

Sunday night was Mike’s turn, I called for him three times to clear the table after dinner, he was busy playing video games, I started to ask a fourth time, then decided to tell him “don’t worry about the dishes Mike, I’ll take care of it” in my sarcastic tone – nothing, no guilty get up, wow.  I take care of it.  I’m well aware that my ‘fixing’ it is a huge contributing factor to their lack of get it done.  Frankly I’m tired of asking, nagging, getting frustrated, so taking my late grandmother’s advice, I expect nothing from them, therefore, when they do contribute I can be delighted.  I think Mema’s advice is a double edged sword, but it sure does help reposition my head – I’m the adult.

Monday night, I make dinner.  As you’ve guessed it’s G’s turn at the clearing and loading the dishwasher.  I let him know at the back end of the meal it’s his turn.  He complains that Mike didn’t do his job last night, that I did it for him.  I remind him he didn’t finish the night before, I look at Mike.  For the first time Mike apologizes.  G is still ranting about the fairness, he’s a kid, why does he have to wahhhh wwaaaa waaaaaa.  I go through the good family citizen talk.  We all chip in and support each other.  He keeps going, I tell him I’ve had enough talk, I’ll do it myself.  I start clearing and cleaning and G’s sitting there and says he’s going to help.  I’m thinking, yeah it’s working.  He brings his plate, fork and glass to the kitchen counter, he puts away the hot sauce and goes upstairs.  I can’t believe he thought that was good enough.  I bit my tongue and plan my strike against the spoiled boys with the growing grumbling about pitching in.

Tuesday night, I made a house favorite, Sloppy Turkey Joe’s with chipolte sweet potato fries.  After dinner I announce, that I hoped they enjoyed their meal, oh I’m on strike starting at wake-up tomorrow;  I’m not cooking, picking up anything after anyone other than myself;  I will not set or clear the table, or load and unload the dishwasher;  I will not be driving short people to school, they need to wake up 30 minutes earlier to catch the bus.  Laundry – um no and I’m certainly not going to clean their rooms or bring their left about items to the rooms and put them away.  I’m done asking and nagging.  We’ll live their way and do nothing to be helpful to each other.  Mike slinks away;  G’s response, “Good for you Mommy”.  What!?  Not the response I was hoping for.

Wednesday morning – The boys get up, get breakfast and get themselves to school – Good.  They leave their breakfast dishes on the kitchen table, so do I.  They come home and actually enjoy making their own dinners, hmmm – good, they eat at the table amongst their breakfast dishes, gross.  With plenty of time ahead of them I remind them that Marci, our deep cleaning lady, who comes every couple of weeks, arrives tomorrow and trash pick up is tomorrow too.  Evening events begin, Mike heads to church for Edge;  G stays home, in the kitchen on the computer, the place looks like a tornado just came through.  It’s so gross, I eat in the dining room, clean my dishes by hand (dishwasher is full) and find somewhere else to be in the house, lest I break down and fix it.  I go upstairs and put my laundry away, put things away in the bathroom, straighten out the guest room, I’m getting Marci ready, G’s watching but doing nothing.    Greg picks up Mike from church and reminds them why I’m on strike and the level of disappointment.  Boys start cleaning the kitchen.  Had Greg said nothing they were both content to just leave stuff around.

As it stands now, the boys haven’t quite stepped up without discussion from the union rep.  The kitchen is okay, a little gross for my liking;  Trash was never picked up and put out to the curb.

Things weren’t exactly Marci ready this morning.  I expected that, so I call Marci my first strike tactic.  Marci is notorious for ‘putting away’ items in the most illogical places.  It’s very random and not necessarily in the same room it was left in.  It could take days to recover an item that has been Marci’ed.  It’s a verb in our house, if you care about an item, you’ll put it away before Marci get’s here.  She’s zooming around upstairs in their rooms now, so they should feel the pinch when they get back from school.

Long blog, but now you’re caught-up on my strike.  The Union Rep and I are applying tactics that will help reinforce our point of needing to contribute and be a good family citizen.  We’re trying to create a personal experience for each boy to drive the point home.  I acknowledge that they are still children, but children without responsibility grows an irresponsible adult.  We’re growing great men.

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Dirty Little Secret ;)

Hi all, I’m finally out of hibernation (well from blogging anyway);  I’m dusting off the Atlanta pollen and today is glorious!!  So it’s time to get into my little garden and refresh my dirt.  That’s right, I work the dirt before I work the plants.  A few of you know my dirty little secret!!  I don’t plant in Atlanta soil, well because it’s better for potting pottery than planting plants!!  I’m a raised bed gardener, and chose this garden type because I’ve learned a lot, such as most of the stuff I like to plant doesn’t need any more than 6-8 inches of dirt.

I remember growing up in upstate NY that we had a garden, well a couple.  My dad used to grow his hot peppers near the foundation of the house in full, hot sunlight.  Then the rest of the garden (row style) was next to the driveway by the creek, it had some shade in the late afternoon, but again mostly full.  It’s important to check and see what the plants preference is, well that is if you actually want to grow and have a decent harvest of it!  I also remember planting the seeds, it was so exciting to watch all that hard work pay off.  Then there were the weeds, and it became a competition and the garden, frankly, became a chore.   Back in the day all I wanted to do was harvest the food, bring it to the kitchen and have Mom make something fabulous and fresh tasting out of it.

When I tried raised bed gardening a couple of years ago, all I really did was harvest;  Because I prepared the dirt from a recipe of store bought bags, I had no weeds!  Of course the wind blows and undesirable plant seeds land in my dirt.  But it’s so much easier to manage sprouts I didn’t plant than the weedy plants that were, well first generation residents of the native soil row garden.

So here’s my inspirations and dirt secret;  It’s that time of year to get the garden growing.  There’s nothing better than growing your own!  You don’t need a big space – my box is 4X12 and it feeds a whole food fanatic family of 4 and then some.  If you don’t have a lot of space there are some great ideas for vertical gardening (Wall hanging containers), so you can have some fun in a smaller scale as well.

I promise the magic is in the dirt prep!!

Martha Stewart Living had a nice article on the raised bed gardening March 2012. My reference book is the All New Square Foot Gardening by Mel Bartholomew. You can also Google: Square Foot Garden which is all raised bed stuff.

Here’s the Mel’s Mix dirt recipe for a 6″ deep, 4×8 box. (He says you only need 6″ to grow good veggies)

Peat Moss (16/8 = 2 bales)

Vermiculite (16/4 = four big bags)

Compost – they recommend 5 different kinds to fill in and get the 6″ depth.

We used worm castings, mushroom compost and I think manure (my sister used aged goat poop – not kidding – lol). The variety he insists is the key so grab bags of whatever is available. I was able to find it all at Pike (Home Depot didn’t have vermiculite which I think is essential to the moisture control).

Things that grew well last year, our garden get’s about 4+ hours of sun:

Arugula / Romaine / Green Beans / Grape Tomatoes / Basil / cucumber  / yellow squash (needs room to roam) / green pepper / egg plant

Green beans, cucumber, and squash need room to roam, we put it towards the back with a trellis to go up which saved us some real estate.  Eggplant is like a bush and likes to go up and branch out – get some stakes and tie them as they grow so they don’t shade other plants.

We didn’t yield a good crop of jalepeno or pablanos (both pepper seeds planted yielded peppers way too small to stuff, so won’t be trying those again.  I also won’t try watermelon, it took over last year’s bed and the fruit, well wasn’t worth it, I don’t think it had enough sun to ripen it properly.

Today, I’m messing around in the dirt!!

I’d love to here your tips and tricks for the garden, what you grow well and what wasn’t worth the time to plant!  Happy planting!!

 

 

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Kick in the Pants

Yesterday, G turned 11, with his birthday so close to Christmas, we often find ourselves celebrating what we call the “season of G” because it takes all month to coordinate a birthday celebration between family members and friends.  This year is the shortest season of G ever, we celebrated with my parents in Florida the last week of December and yesterday we covered him up with birthday love at the Urban Jungle with some of his most favorite friends and then dinner last night.  We are officially closing the season the day of his birth!!  Woot!!

So yesterday, I was feeling quite proud of my party planning and invites going out before school let out.  Proud and running around like a champ, no limping for me, my knees weren’t going to get the best of me.  I even commented to Greg, as I climbed, for the second time, the 25 stairs up to the Urban Jungle Observatory that my knees felt pretty good.

The party a great success, then on home to bake a second cake (actually number 3 – I’ll have to work on reducing that next year), make the guacamole and the taco ring.  A quick run out to Publix for eggs and limes, back home again.  My knees are starting to feel spongy, but I ignore them.  I run upstairs (ok, cautiously hobble up) throw in a load of laundry and trot (hobble) back downstairs.   I started to whip up the corn muffins, ended up  rearranging the pantry, while looking for my little bag of cornmeal.  Then rearranged the cabinet where my muffin tins were stored.  By the time the muffins hit the oven, my knees were telling me to sit down and make some guacamole.  Thankfully Greg knows how to make Taco Ring, cause this girl couldn’t move without the stabbing pain in my knees.

At bedtime, I jump on FB, wallow in my pain, ask my friends for an Ortho recommendation, because the answer must be that my knees need to be replaced.  I took some Aleve and cried walking up the stairs.  I rolled into bed, only to wake up screaming at 4AM with horrible shooting pain.  I woke Greg up with my jolting howls, and feel horrible because he had to be up early to play at the 7:15AM Mass.  I went back to sleep and woke up, found my crutches in my closet and made my way down the stairs, I actually thought about bouncing down on my butt, but figured that might hurt.

So here I am in my chair, legs elevated, surfing FB.  I came across my friend January’s latest update and pop in to see what my girl is up to.  She’s been kicking some major fitness butt and I’ve been so proud of her.  I scroll through her page and there’s this blog posting popping up “I Ain’t Skinny” and I think to myself, huh, I definitely feel that.  So I hop on over to the blog and slap me in the face, it’s January’s Blog!!!  I had not put it together that she was writing the journal of her weight loss and fitness journey.  I started from the beginning Nov 2011, watched a video on Paleo low carb that she recommended,  I’ve read through the rest of her blog and all I can say is wow, January, you are a rock star!!

There’s no denying that I have a ton of weight to lose.   I know that all too well and scheduled a bunch of appointments to have my labs followup and med changes.  I also decided early this week to set up an appointment with a new Nutritionist and taking some required courses to try and get things pulled together where I can see more results.  I’ve lost 24 lbs since July, but haven’t seen the scale move that much most recently.  Mostly due to holiday fun eating, which of course I get mad at myself about, but not enough to stop. If only I would think that if I lose the weight I’d likely not always be in pain, or need all of these stupid meds to keep my blood pressure, cholesterol or blood sugar under control.   What I found interesting is that the nutritionist that I initially worked with was all about ‘keeping tabs on the carbs’, not the elimination of them, to look at healthy fats in moderation, etc., It’s been confusing, limiting, frustrating journey.  I have moments of determination and moving us to a clean eating diet, but when I don’t see ‘big’ results for my efforts, I back slide. January’s recommended video, gave me practical advice.

I have limited exercise ability because of pain, thankfully Greg has set up some Yoga classes for me as a Christmas gift, hopefully that will help.    I have to say that the biggest, most needed kick in the pants came from January.  Thanks girl for sharing your journey, and providing me that extra push to do something different.  You are awesome, inspiring, and a champion of persistence.  I feel hopeful and ready to move the needle on that stupid scale.

Pray for me, my current weight is not healthy, pretty, it doesn’t feel good (physically or mentally) and it certainly doesn’t move fast.   Wow, writing down the weight for all of you to see was not easy, I actually took it out three times.  Then I have to laugh at myself, because if you’re reading this, you’re likely a friend, and if you’re from the office, well there’s no fooling you anyway, it’s obvious that I struggle with my weight.  It just doesn’t matter how I got here,  what matters now is  climbing out of this.

This year,  it’s time to be honest with myself, to get my eating lifestyle under control and to start moving with purpose. Actually to live on purpose.   I need to claim the 24lbs and 2 sizes in clothes I’ve lost since July as a victory.  I need to realize that I have great friends and family to support and encourage me.  The only obstacle I have is me, and I’m too tired and hurt too much to keep dabbling in getting healthy, it has to take priority.   Thanks January, for sharing your journey, it was the kick in the pants I needed.

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