1. Laundry. This can be broken down into several sub-categories:
a. Unballing balled up socks. Stinky, not mine socks.
b. Sorting other people's underwear.
c. Dripping laundry soap on my arm, each and every time.
d. Listening to the washing machine go ballistic.
e. Finding the Kleenex in the wet clothes.
f. Accidentally tossing my favourite shirts into the dryer, turning them into Barbie clothes.
g. Listening to the Terror's whiiiinnnnneee about the unjust expectation that they will put their own clean clothes away.
h. Knowing that I must wash, rinse, and repeat in 5 days.
2. The cat litter. I don't do it very often, since I am blessed with a man who caves under relentless nagging. But sometimes he makes me change the litter myself, and no amount of sulking gets me out of the job.
3. Wearing socks. Thank god for summer!
4. Paying the city bill. It irks me to no end.
5. Getting what looks like a really great book from the library, and then discovering that it is not so great. And I've tried to read it before.
6. Running into people in public that I really don't want to see.
7. Answering the phone when it's my mother in law.
8. Being wrong. Thankfully, this rarely happens.
9. Waiting. For anything.
10. Running out of things before #10 on my list.
Wednesday, July 29, 2009
Wednesday, July 22, 2009
15 books
I copied this straight from Facebook. I wanted to see what your list would look like, too! Leave me a comment if you post your book list.
Rules: Don't take too long to think about it. Fifteen books you've read that will always stick with you. First fifteen you can recall in no more than 15 minutes. Tag 15 friends, including me because I'm interested in seeing what books my friends choose (as well as pick up suggestions for my reading list). To do this, go to your Notes tab on your profile page, paste rules in a new note, cast your 15 picks, and tag people in the note - upper right hand side). I will not be offended if you don't play.
(in no particular order)
1. Anne of Green Gables
2. The Bible
3. Little House on the Prairie - set
4. When Rabbit Howls
5. Romeo and Juliet
6. Please Understand Me
7. Ender's Game
8. To Kill A Mockingbird
9. Gone With the Wind
10. Memoirs of a Geisha
11. The Kite Runner
12. Clan of the Cave Bear series
13. The Thornbirds
14. The Time Traveller's Wife
15. The Outsiders
Bonus: Are You There God? It's Me, Margaret.
So many more, but these are the ones I thought of first!
Rules: Don't take too long to think about it. Fifteen books you've read that will always stick with you. First fifteen you can recall in no more than 15 minutes. Tag 15 friends, including me because I'm interested in seeing what books my friends choose (as well as pick up suggestions for my reading list). To do this, go to your Notes tab on your profile page, paste rules in a new note, cast your 15 picks, and tag people in the note - upper right hand side). I will not be offended if you don't play.
(in no particular order)
1. Anne of Green Gables
2. The Bible
3. Little House on the Prairie - set
4. When Rabbit Howls
5. Romeo and Juliet
6. Please Understand Me
7. Ender's Game
8. To Kill A Mockingbird
9. Gone With the Wind
10. Memoirs of a Geisha
11. The Kite Runner
12. Clan of the Cave Bear series
13. The Thornbirds
14. The Time Traveller's Wife
15. The Outsiders
Bonus: Are You There God? It's Me, Margaret.
So many more, but these are the ones I thought of first!
Sunday, July 19, 2009
My mind went back to work last night.
Every summer, after school is out, we go through a "de-stressing" period. It takes both Hubby and I a week or more to fully relax and get into summer mode. Then for 6 blissful weeks, we are stress free. No school worries. Well, not exactly. Hubby is prone to random days of school stress throughout the summer, especially years like this one where he is headed into new subjects in the fall. He can't sleep, he looks worried, and he gets restless. But then it all goes away. Me, I usually am fine until August and then BHAM! I wake up, stressed and excited and ready to go. For some reason, though, this year I am freaking out early.
I couldn't sleep earlier this week. I spent waaaayyy too long going over lists of students in my head, trying to figure out who I will have in my classes. I am teaching a subject new to me, Communications 12, this year, and I am worried already. Last night I dreamt about the class, and it was horrible! Totally out of control!
If I am already stressing, in July, things do not look good for August.
I couldn't sleep earlier this week. I spent waaaayyy too long going over lists of students in my head, trying to figure out who I will have in my classes. I am teaching a subject new to me, Communications 12, this year, and I am worried already. Last night I dreamt about the class, and it was horrible! Totally out of control!
If I am already stressing, in July, things do not look good for August.
Saturday, July 11, 2009
Things I did NOT do.
For a long time I worried about what kind of mother I would be. Specifically, how I would relate to a daughter. All the studies say that we learn parenting skills from our own parents. While I can easily say that many people out there had worse childhoods than I did, I still do not want to repeat history.
Earlier this week Girl Terror told me that sometimes after she is in bed, she reads her books. "Just a few pages, Mummy. Until I get sleepy." I understand. I loved reading in bed as a kid. I still love reading in bed! But.... it's dark. And she should be sleeping. I told her "Be sure you aren't hurting your eyes, and don't read for too long." I did NOT glue blackout boards to her window. I did NOT rip her book up. I hopefully did NOT discourage her from telling me what she does.
Today, we went to buy a reading lamp for her. Normally, we avoid anything with cartoon characters, pop singers, or TV personalities on it. She knows this, and it is not a problem. I explained once why I was against Bratz, and she has never asked for any of their products. I let her know that Hannah Montana isn't my favourite role model, and she looks longingly at the merchendise, but rarely asks for it. Today, she admired a Barbie night light. We came home with a dolphin shaped light that Hubby picked out. Long story short, the dolphin was hideous and didn't cast light, so she and I took it back. Without Hubby there to be strong, I knew the pink Barbie lamp would be like a siren.
Girl Terror and I wandered up and down the aisle. We saw modern crane lamps. We admired "antique" table lamps. And of course, we saw a pink Barbie lamp, and a pink Princess lamp. I took a few basic lamps, and told her to pick one. She couldn't. She wanted to know which one was my favourite. I wouldn't tell her, and she got truly upset. If I wouldn't tell her my favourite, then she couldn't pick one.
I remember being this child. I too was a people pleaser. My favourite color was whatever my mother's was. My favourite food, the same as Dad's. I never voiced an opinion for fear of being wrong. I do not want my child to be like me.
Girl Terror finally choose the lamp she was sure I liked. As we were walking toward the check-out, she told me all the reasons this was a good choice. It was practical. It would last a long time. Daddy would like it. I could see her convincing herself that it wasn't so bad, and I flashed back to shopping with my own mother.
We were shoe shopping. At my school, the dress code required skirts or dresses, and dress shoes. I wanted what every other teenage girl had...pretty dress shoes with a bit of a delicate heel. My mother chose burgundy leather, practical, no-nonsense, sensible shoes. The type nurses wear. They had thick rubber soles. They were hideous. I did NOT say a word. I wore them all through grade 11, and I hated every minute.
I wasn't allowed to have pretty, girly type things. I did NOT ask, because that would just show a weakness waiting to be exploited. I wore ugly shoes. I had practical clothes. I wasn't allowed to read in bed, but if I were, I bet my lamp would have been a basic, possibly second hand, stern black or grey metal lamp.
We went back to the lighting aisle. I put down Girl Terror's first choice, and picked up a pink Princess lamp. "I think I need a Princess lamp, okay?" She looked up at me. "Oh, Mummy!! I think you need it too! And I can use it, okay?!" She hugged me. She beamed at me. She proudly carried her new lamp to the check-out, and it is now next to her bed.
Today, I did NOT repeat the mistakes from my childhood. Instead, I let my daughter be a little girl, and I was her beloved Mummy.
Earlier this week Girl Terror told me that sometimes after she is in bed, she reads her books. "Just a few pages, Mummy. Until I get sleepy." I understand. I loved reading in bed as a kid. I still love reading in bed! But.... it's dark. And she should be sleeping. I told her "Be sure you aren't hurting your eyes, and don't read for too long." I did NOT glue blackout boards to her window. I did NOT rip her book up. I hopefully did NOT discourage her from telling me what she does.
Today, we went to buy a reading lamp for her. Normally, we avoid anything with cartoon characters, pop singers, or TV personalities on it. She knows this, and it is not a problem. I explained once why I was against Bratz, and she has never asked for any of their products. I let her know that Hannah Montana isn't my favourite role model, and she looks longingly at the merchendise, but rarely asks for it. Today, she admired a Barbie night light. We came home with a dolphin shaped light that Hubby picked out. Long story short, the dolphin was hideous and didn't cast light, so she and I took it back. Without Hubby there to be strong, I knew the pink Barbie lamp would be like a siren.
Girl Terror and I wandered up and down the aisle. We saw modern crane lamps. We admired "antique" table lamps. And of course, we saw a pink Barbie lamp, and a pink Princess lamp. I took a few basic lamps, and told her to pick one. She couldn't. She wanted to know which one was my favourite. I wouldn't tell her, and she got truly upset. If I wouldn't tell her my favourite, then she couldn't pick one.
I remember being this child. I too was a people pleaser. My favourite color was whatever my mother's was. My favourite food, the same as Dad's. I never voiced an opinion for fear of being wrong. I do not want my child to be like me.
Girl Terror finally choose the lamp she was sure I liked. As we were walking toward the check-out, she told me all the reasons this was a good choice. It was practical. It would last a long time. Daddy would like it. I could see her convincing herself that it wasn't so bad, and I flashed back to shopping with my own mother.
We were shoe shopping. At my school, the dress code required skirts or dresses, and dress shoes. I wanted what every other teenage girl had...pretty dress shoes with a bit of a delicate heel. My mother chose burgundy leather, practical, no-nonsense, sensible shoes. The type nurses wear. They had thick rubber soles. They were hideous. I did NOT say a word. I wore them all through grade 11, and I hated every minute.
I wasn't allowed to have pretty, girly type things. I did NOT ask, because that would just show a weakness waiting to be exploited. I wore ugly shoes. I had practical clothes. I wasn't allowed to read in bed, but if I were, I bet my lamp would have been a basic, possibly second hand, stern black or grey metal lamp.
We went back to the lighting aisle. I put down Girl Terror's first choice, and picked up a pink Princess lamp. "I think I need a Princess lamp, okay?" She looked up at me. "Oh, Mummy!! I think you need it too! And I can use it, okay?!" She hugged me. She beamed at me. She proudly carried her new lamp to the check-out, and it is now next to her bed.
Today, I did NOT repeat the mistakes from my childhood. Instead, I let my daughter be a little girl, and I was her beloved Mummy.
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