hooey!critic

Sunday Night Routines

September 9, 2012 by Neena 2 Comments

I’ll be the first to admit that I am one of those people who thrives on routine. It started in college when I would plan my schedule for school and my schedule for work. I marked the calendar with study hours, free time, work time, classes, etc. It worked for me. It allowed me to maintain a darn good GPA while working 40 hours a week. After college the routines just stuck.

I suddenly had routines for how I paid bills, how I cleaned the bathroom, what order I would unload the dishwasher, etc. It just made tasks easier to accomplish. I don’t necessarily expect others to adopt my routines, but they help me balance all that comes with raising three children and running the household.

Sunday night routines happen to be my favorite.

Because of how chaotic and packed the school week tends to be I do my best to make sure Sunday nights are restful and relaxing around the house. I figure keeping things calm before the weeks starts allows my family (and me by default!) to enter the week with a clear head.

Every Sunday night I try to make a big dinner. I do this because it is the one night a week I know everyone will have their feet under the table at the same time. There are no evening activities, no social calls to attend, no errands – just a family dinner.

While my husband cleans up dinner (oh, yes he does!) I make sure the kids get through their showers. Sure, they shower throughout the week. But on Sundays I am checking ears, clipping nails, monitoring flossing, drying hair, and whatever else is needed.

I follow shower time with a sweep through each bedroom to help the children pick out their clothes for the next day. We are sure to have the right shoes in case they have PE and this limits any rush the next morning to find what to wear.

Then I move on to packing lunches. I do this every night but on Sundays I like to take extra time – writing little notes, packing a little surprise – whatever I feel might brighten their Monday.

At this point the kids usually relax in the living room with a book or they’ll play a game with their Daddy. This is when I get my time. I brew myself a fresh cup of coffee, curl up on the couch, and work on the grocery list for the week. I make a menu for the week and cross-reference this with the calendar of activities, birthday parties, and camping trips that are scheduled for that time. I check sales online at my local grocery store and I write out a detailed list so I can head right to the store Monday morning after the kids are off to school.

As soon as the kids head to bed I try to squeeze in a quick blog post before relaxing for the rest of the night…usually with a good book.

I love the simplicity of this routine on Sunday nights. It keeps me centered and ensures my family has a stress free start to the week. Come 6:00 AM Monday morning it’s GO GO GO. But Sunday evening are for us – to relax, to breathe, and to remember that, even in the chaos of our lives, we still appreciate our time together.

What routines do you have to make your life easier?

Filed Under: Uncategorized

Advocating for my child

September 5, 2012 by Neena 12 Comments

From the moment Jacob was born in 2005 he was an unhappy baby. He arrived at 37 weeks and weighed 8 pounds 8 ounces.

A big baby, yes, but a terribly unhappy baby.

While in the hospital he dealt with jaundice and spent a couple of days under the bili lights. This wasn’t new to us since our oldest came home with bili light in tow. His levels never reached a dangerous point, but they were high enough to be a concern. That issue seemed to sort itself out rather quickly and we took him home from the hospital as scheduled.

Within the first two weeks we noticed that the child just cried. CRIED. Cried for hours and hours and hours. I know babies tend to cry and have moments of complete fits, but this seemed different. Something about my motherly instinct was on alert. I admit that I tried to ignore it based on advice I received from anyone and everyone around me. He’s just a little colicky. He’s going to be fine – babies just cry. Are you using the 5 S’s with him? It didn’t help that my husband was traveling nearly 80 percent of the time and I was left home trying to decipher exactly what I was doing wrong as a mother to have such an unhappy baby. Along with the crying he had trouble eating and went through bouts of severe spit-up to the point where he couldn’t keep anything down. He also made constant noises when he breathed as if something was lodged in his throat. Nothing I did could make that little boy happy.

I brought up my concerns every time we went to the pediatrician. Weekly visits, monthly visits – each time I was just dismissed as having a fussy baby. But I knew. I knew something was wrong with my child.

After two months of struggles, severe lack of sleep, a husband who was constantly traveling, and enough tears to fill an ocean I went back to the pediatrician determined to be heard. This time we saw a new doctor – a young man who to this day is known as a God send! I burst into tears in front of this man. I cried and told him that something was wrong with my child but that nobody seemed to believe me. He put his hand on my shoulder, looked me directly in the eyes and said ‘I believe you.’

Almost instantly the weight began to lift. Someone was listening to me. Someone was giving me the time and attention I needed to figure out what was wrong with my baby. He took tons of notes, asked extremely detailed questions, and gave us referrals to a pediatric ENT to confirm his diagnosis: Gastroesophageal Reflux Disease and Stridor. Essentially my poor baby’s stomach couldn’t handle anything and, combined with the Stridor, was making it difficult to breathe. We left with samples of a new formula and a prescription to help with the reflux.

I can’t remember for sure but I’m pretty certain I collapsed from exhaustion and relief when we arrived home. And within 48 hours of trying the new formula and medicine it was like I had a different child. A typical, happy, snuggly baby. I felt like I had been given a miracle. We followed up with the specialists and had to watch our baby go through an upper GI, but we were given answers. The diagnosis was confirmed and I had the resources and knowledge to take care of my little boy.

In all honesty he still cried a good bit even with the diagnosis which we chucked up to healing and maybe a bit of colic. But, he was getting better and that’s all I needed.

To this day I remember the frustration I felt when nobody would listen to me. I wanted to advocate for my son, but it was extremely difficult to do so when very few would listen to my instincts. I have no words for how wonderful that young doctor was to us that day I broke into tears in his exam room. He listened when no one else would. He later left the practice to go work at a Children’s Hospital in Atlanta, but he left me with the confidence I needed to always advocate for my children. I’ll always be thankful for that.

Over time Jacob continued to improve and was able to stop taking the medicine. He grew out of the Stridor and has become an amazingly healthy and happy 7 year old. I’m so glad I don’t have to think about who he would have been had I not pushed for someone…anyone to help my child.

How far would you go to advocate for your child? In January First, father Michael Shofield and his family struggle to find the right treatment for his daughter Jani, who was diagnosed with schizophrenia at six years old. Join From Left to Write on September 6th as we discuss the Shofield’s memoir January First. As a member, I received a copy of the book for review purposes.

Filed Under: book club, jacob, Uncategorized

My babies?!

September 3, 2012 by Neena 3 Comments

Tomorrow my little munchkin, my baby Charlotte starts Pre-K. I knew this was coming. We registered her months ago. We bought school clothes weeks ago. And, last week we went and met her teacher.

All of a sudden it’s hitting me hard. You know what ‘it’ is, right? That ton of bricks that hits you when you have the sudden realization that you are no longer the mother of babies or toddlers but are, in fact, the mother of kids. Kids!

Living, breathing, thinking for themselves, know what they like, have friends, want privacy kids!

Charlotte is my last baby. I always said that when my children are all in school full-time that I would consider going back to work. And I’ve officially got one year to figure it all out. Sure, Charlotte will only be in school 4 days a week and we’ll still have our afternoons and Fridays for snuggles and adventures. But this year will fly by as they all seem to do and before I know it I’ll be repeating this process next year as I walk her into a kindergarten classroom and watch her brother and sister run off to 3rd and 4th grade.

And it’s hard.

I’ve been a full-time mommy for over 8 years. I’ve dedicated myself to their schedules and well-being. I’ve taken them to the doctor, sat through countless karate classes, unpacked backpacks, and coordinated play dates for over 8 years. Frankly, I don’t want that to end. I like being here. I like being a full-time mommy. Ultimately I’d like to find a career that still allows me to do that. And I feel like my deadline is almost up.

I don’t worry about Charlotte going to school. She’s a tough cookie. I worry about me. Me being able to let her go. Me sitting back and watching her become whoever it is she is meant to become. I worry that she’ll change so much that she’ll no longer be the girl in a tutu that proudly announces she wants to grow up to be a princess turtle doctor. I worry that she’ll need me less all the while learning to praise her for her budding independence. I worry that so much of my identity is wrapped up in my kids that I won’t know the girl looking back at me in the mirror in the morning.

Right now she is in the dining room laughing as she plays some educational computer game with her braid still wet from her bath. She’s wearing a princess nightgown and her little toes are curling as she plays. She’s a happy kid. She’s completely ready for school tomorrow. She’s done this before – for the last two-year in fact. She doesn’t have any idea that tomorrow is different for me.

Tomorrow I take my kid, not my baby, to school. And the whole thing is rather bittersweet.

2-year-old class

3-year-old class

Filed Under: charlotte, reflection

My stories to tell…

August 29, 2012 by Neena 9 Comments

I started blogging in 2007 just before my youngest daughter was born. I immediately became fascinated by this idea of an online journal – a digital recording of my story. But as I looked in my closet this morning for something to wear I took notice of this…

This is a stack of journals dating back to 6th grade. That was 1990 if you care to do the math. And I was hit with this sudden realization that essentially I was a blogger long before there ever was such a thing.

Those journals tell my story starting from the moment I realized I had a story to tell. They are filled with quotes, musings, love-sick tales, anger, sadness, confusion, and accounts of perfect moments from my history. Well, as much emotion as one can muster while rocking the teased bangs and the pegged pants of my adolescence. They hold all my stories for the last 22 years. I can look through those journals, read those words, and have a perfect account of every emotion I felt when I first met my husband and our journey together. I can even look at the small journal he brought me on the night he proposed with my ring tied securely to the ribbon bookmark.

So many of my stories sit on that shelf – hiding behind fabric covers and spiral binding. I don’t look through them very often. In many ways I don’t feel that I need to. I know they’re there and there is a safety in their shelved existence. Someday my children as going to ask about my story – who I was as a girl, a young adult, a new bride, and a mother. I’ll share snippets with them – keeping certain experiences within the walls of my heart. But someday when I’m long gone I know that my story – however exciting or traditional or extraordinary it may turn out to be – will be left behind. And they’ll have the option to learn a little bit about the woman who was their mother.

Maybe they won’t see these as much more than the ramblings of a silly girl. And that’s okay…because to me they are simply and honestly the words of my one and only life. And I choose to leave them behind.

This post is inspired by Sarah McCoy’s The Baker’s Daughter. In a small Texan town, Reba discovers Elsie’s German Bakery and falls in love with more than the pastries. Shes drawn to Elsie’s life in Germany during the last year of WWII. Join From Left to Write on August 29 as we discuss The Baker’s Daughter. As a member, I received a copy of the book for review purposes.

Filed Under: book club, reflection

A Teachable Moment: Setting Goals

August 27, 2012 by Neena 3 Comments

Oh, hello little blog! So glad you still welcome me with a big blank screen after I’ve taken a few days off to do thinks like paint the kitchen, close a bar on a Saturday night, and prepare for 6 little boy scouts to arrive at my house tomorrow.

Life has been crazy these last few days. Super crazy! I’ve accomplished so much, but I’ve missed coming here to write. So, even though I should be putting my daughter down for some quiet time and folding the 5 loads of laundry on my bed, I wanted to pause and take a few minutes for myself right here.

Let me tell you a story…

The new karate cycle started last week. I’m now watching my son rock his blue belt and my daughter kick some green belt butt. Each cycle the kids have some sort of project they must complete outside of karate. It’s a way to bring the discipline and teaching points into the home environment. This cycle is all about goals. Each child has to set a goal, point out their bad habits, and make a plan for achieving this goal in a set time frame.

We were trying to explain this to the kids last night over dinner. They were super imaginative in attempting to pick goals for the cycle.

I wanna learn to organize my room!

I want to make my muscles as big as possible!

I want to become a better artist!

I want to learn 50% of what there is to know about venus!

The part they struggled with was understanding exactly how to set a plan for achieving their goals and how to measure if they were successful. We went round and round at the dinner table and ended the evening with the whole ‘Okay, we’ll just finish talking about it tomorrow’ line. My kids are smart little cookies and trying to discuss anything with super smart kids is freaking exhausting!

But, in the moment of trying to explain these goals I ended up making a promise to set my own goal and work on it while they work on theirs. Yea, somehow I roped myself into being a good parent and setting a good example. Perhaps this whole thing would be less exhausting if I made it my goal to just embrace being a crappy parent. Food for thought…

Anyway, I am now working toward my own goal while my children work toward theirs. Over the last week or so I finally came through a bit of a writing block. I didn’t write much this summer because I didn’t really feel inspired. Plus I was taking the ‘I finished the PhD’ laziness to the extreme. But this past week I began writing. I picked up a novel I started a few years ago and managed to make some pretty incredible progress. It felt good. No, actually it felt great! So I set a writing goal that I will work towards while my children read 10 new books and teach the dog a handful of tricks. (yep, that’s what they eventually chose as their goals!)

For the next 8 weeks I am going to work on this novel. It is my goal to write 25,000 words by the end of this little exercise. It may not seem like much, but when you’ve done nothing but write scholarly academic stuff for 3 years it really is a big deal. A whole bunch of words may come one day and none the next. I may only write for small chunks of time everyday. The point is that I’m going to give it a shot. I’m going to work on this alongside my children to show them that even adults set goals for themselves. Maybe I’ll meet this goal and all will be right with the world. Maybe I’ll fall short and we’ll have to have a conversation about ‘is it failure if you still worked super hard?’

I’m secretly kind of excited about this. I’m excited to see if I can push myself to start moving forward on my dream to write romance novels. I feign exhaustion with all these parenting and teachable moments. But perhaps I’ll get something good out of this, too.

Filed Under: Uncategorized

Project: Help Me Paint My Kitchen (and maybe my dining room too!)

August 20, 2012 by Neena 7 Comments

After the weekend fiasco with the water damage our deadline to finally paint the interior of our house has been moved up.

Over the years we’ve painted the kids’ rooms and their bathroom. We knew at some point we would have to paint the general living spaces of the house for the simple reason that everything is painted in that horrible “builders beige.” Not only is it a terrible color, but it shows every scratch, mark, and finger print from the last 7 years. Frankly, everything looks dirty and the whole house just needs a fresh coat of paint. And with the hold in the dining room now ready to be fixed we need to finally pick a color and give the interior of the house a fresh coat of paint. Plus, we’ll never be able to match the “builders beige” in the dining room to fix the hole even if we wanted to postpone painting for a little while.

I’ve mentioned before that I am looking to repaint the kitchen. Right now it is a drab green that I liked a few years ago, but is now the last color I would choose. My original intention was to paint it a beautiful, clean white. My husband (who usually lets me pick whatever I want) asked politely if I would choose something other than white. He is concerned that it will get dirty and won’t be quite what I envision – especially with three kids and two dogs running around.

Since I am always one to compromise willingly *snort* I decided to get some paint samples that might work better than the original white I picked. And this is where I need your help. I can’t decided what color will work best for the kitchen. I am going for a fresh, clean look that retains more of a classic rather than trendy feel.

Here are the choices (all Benjamin Moore colors):

The white was my original choice, but I can see now that it may be too white. My husband might just be right on this one. I love the classic gray yet I love the other two choices also. So, what are your opinions? Would you do something like the Owl Gray throughout the house and stick with more classic gray in the kitchen? Would you pick something entirely different. Even though it is hard to tell from the picture they are all rather bright. clean, and fresh looking. And that is where my indecision comes from. Our cabinets are dark (as is most of our wood furniture) so I think any color will work well in the house and in the kitchen

So give me your opinions. I’m desperate to get this project underway!

Filed Under: decorating

The List Maker

August 18, 2012 by Neena 5 Comments

I cannot remember a time when I wasn’t a list maker.

I makes lists for everything – the grocery list, the weekly menu list, daily to-do lists, lists of household projects, shopping lists, lists of errands, school assignment lists, writing lists, chore lists, and even lists of books I hope to read.

I am never far from a little notebook or an index card in which to make the next list. I’m comforted by lists. They tend to make me feel like I can tackle what I need to without feelings of being overwhelmed. Somedays I manage to cross each item off the day’s list. More days than not there is a task or two leftover that will inevitably make it onto the next day’s list. I don’t mind that so much since I know that each thing on a list will eventually get done.

Today my husband and I made a project list. We sat down over our morning coffee and he typed out the list as I rattled off each thing I want to accomplish before the end of October. Why October? That is the unofficial deadline I set for myself so we have to ability to sit back and really enjoy the holidays this year. This is the first time since Charlotte was a year old that I have not been working on some PhD assignment during the holiday season and by golly I intend to embrace it!

Back to today’s list…

We made the list and it ended up being two typed pages long – some small projects, some large projects. After a quick and focused trip to Home Depot we managed to cross off almost 10 things from the list before dinner tonight. Not a bad start. But then it all went down hill…

I went into the dining room to measure the length of our curtains since I’m planning to replace them (#17 on the list) and I noticed one of my pictures next to the window looked dirty. I took a closer look at the photo and noticed what looked like mold.

Then I made the mistake of moving the picture…

(Mental note: don’t ever move the picture. Just pretend there is nothing whatsoever to see behind it. Be ignorant, my friends.)

A huge patch of the wall was wet and covered in mildew or mold. I have no idea which and don’t really care because either way EWE!! I called my husband over and we agreed that the only way to assess the damage was to cut out that portion of the wall. My pretty wall. My pretty dining room wall.

Behind the wall we found a ton of dampness on the wood, the insulation, and the surrounding area.

That is the point where I wanted to start crying. I wanted to cry because I suddenly became aware of exactly how many tasks we just added to our project list – exactly how many more supplies we will have to buy – exactly how there is probably no possible chance we will meet my stupid deadline for finishing all the crap that needs done around this house – exactly how hard it is going to be to paint the 25 foot walls in this house which we have to do now to cover up the big fucking hole!

So for now I quit. No more crossing things off the list tonight. No more projects to be added. Instead I am going to make pancakes and read a trash novel because homeownership is stupid.

Filed Under: house

Roots

August 15, 2012 by Neena 8 Comments

When I was born we lived in an old house on Forest Ave. It was hunter green, had an old fire pit in the back yard, and the basement always seemed a bit haunted house-ish for me. By 2nd grade we moved to a small 2 bedroom apartment. It was on the top floor and the neighbor boy always smelled like pee.

Just before 3rd grade we moved into a duplex. I could see the elementary school from the front yard and it was the year my brother and I got to share bunk beds. Half way through 4th grade my mother remarried and we moved into yet another house in another neighborhood. I remember feeling surprised that we stayed in this location until I finished 8th grade. But that Summer – just before high school- we moved 3 hours away to a new town in another new house. They let me pick the color of my new bedroom as a way to placate my hatred of moving. I chose a deep blood-red.

Just before the end of my senior year in high school my parents moved back to our home town. I didn’t want to change schools just two months before school ended so I opted to live with my aunt to finish out the school year.

From there I went to a dorm room, a shared apartment with my brother for the summer, another dorm room, and then a 700 mile move to Georgia where I finished college in a small house near the campus.

Once I graduated college I got my first apartment with no roommate. I was starting my first teaching job and needed to be closer to work. I lived there for just over a year before Andy and I got married and bought our first house. We lived in that new house for 3 years and loved the feel of the neighborhood with its families and kids always outside playing. Sadly the neighborhood started to decline and we chose to sell and move before things went completely downhill. We moved about 30 minutes away to the house we currently have now.

We’ve lived here for 7 years. That is the longest I’ve ever lived in one location.

Usually I get this urge to relocate about every three years. I start obsessing over real estate listings, finding new places for us to go, and when i finally realize moving isn’t an option I start nesting and rearranging furniture. I get over it and feel settled for a little while before the whole process begins again.

Recently my husband mentioned that there is a possibility (someday down the road) that we may have to relocate to Phoenix for his work. Normally this would thrill me and I’d begin researching the best neighborhood and making mental lists of everything I would want different in a new house.

But this time I panicked. I suddenly got anxious and scared at the possibility of someday in the future maybe having to move. I made rude comments about living in the desert and not finding cactuses at all worthy of using in home decor. I pictured scorpions in my shoes, the damn sun shining all the time, and having to learn to eat rattlesnake. Have I ever been to Arizona? No. Is this an accurate picture of the state? Probably not. But my mind believes one thing and there is no convincing me it is any different from this picture in my head.

I mentioned this to my mother-in-law one day. She responded in her heavy southern accent with “Oh, my. You’re starting to root!”

And I realized it was the most truthful statement.

I am establishing roots. Here. In this house. In this neighborhood.

Two of my babies were born while we’ve lived here. All of my babies learned to walk in these hallways. They’ve started school in the area and have friends in the neighborhood. The walls are covered in kid marks and there is a hole in the wall where the dog ate through a jam-covered hand print. I’ve planted vegetables, celebrated birthdays, watched it snow on the rare occasion, and struggled through homework and tears at the kitchen table. The Christmas tree has a special spot and the Bactine is always within reach. I can’t imagine giving up our local karate studio or the scarecrows that come out every Fall or even the weird neighbor that mows his lawn every single day.

This is my home.

That urge of wanderlust is gone. I don’t want to reestablish somewhere else. I want to nurture these roots I didn’t even realize had begun. I love it here. I love being in one place – making memories and celebrating the familiarity of daily life.

I may not want to move away someday but I’m sure it’ll be inevitable at some point. We will outgrow this house or want to trade up for better schools or taxes. Jobs opportunities will call and new locations will have to be considered.

For now, though, I’m going to cherish being in one place for so long and continue rooting as deep as I can…

because it’s exactly what I’ve always needed.

Filed Under: reflection

Away They Go: Back to School

August 13, 2012 by Neena 3 Comments

The dishwasher is running, the laundry is cycling, and my house is rather quiet. My older two babes? We dropped them off at school this morning to begin their 2nd and 3rd grade adventures.

They wore new outfits, slipped their feet into new shoes, and struggled to carry their new backpacks fully loaded with fresh school supplies. We had sausage, eggs, and waffles for breakfast since I always prefer to cook a big breakfast on that first day of school. I like knowing their tummies are full as they begin their new adventures.

They posed for the obligatory ‘back to school’ photos – humoring me even less than they did last year. We drove them to school and walked them to their new classrooms where they were eager to say good-bye and have us go on our way. I was fine through all this. I was great in fact! No tears, no sadness, no worry.

But when I got home and started the laundry and finished the dishes I realized that I already miss them terribly. They are getting bigger – no longer wanting to hold my hand as we walk in the building and not requiring that last hug before we leave for the day. Good for them…kind of sad for mama.

So I’ll be here today – hugging on my youngest and appreciating the last year I get with her before she is off to kindergarten. I’ll continue with my domestic chores – making bread, running the vacuum – and I’ll wait. I’ll wait until 4:00 when I see their smiling faces run off the bus eager to tell me all about their day.

Maybe I should make cookies too…

Filed Under: back to school

Turning 7

August 11, 2012 by Neena 3 Comments

Dear Jacob,

How does it feel to be 7, little man? How does it feel to be a 7-year-old with a shiny new blue belt? By the amount of cake you ate today and the smile that never seemed to fade I’d say it probably feels pretty darn good.

There is something special about celebrating your birthday – especially considering you are my only little boy. Sometimes the house feels like it is covered in pink and ballerinas and hair bows. You give us the joy of seeing little corners of dinosaurs, history books, Star Wars, and anything orange.

You’ve changed a great deal this past year – retaining your tender heart and sensitivity while growing into a mature little boy. You’ve discovered a love of science and ancient history. You seem to show a more generous spirit and have perfected the ability to be kind to all people and animals. You still like me to tuck you in and kiss you goodnight but you no longer require me to read you stories. You do that all on your own.

You often wake up first in the morning and, after coming to say hello, you head to your bed to work in some extra reading time before the day starts. I still can’t get you to clean your room but that’s ok. I understand being distracted by all the cool stuff up there.

And you’re the only kid in the world that always offers to share his food – and the only one that will call me to say you saved leftovers from a restaurant so we can enjoy them together.

I love you, buddy. You are an incredible Kid. Happy Birthday.

Love,

Mama