Wednesday, December 17, 2008
Conspiracy theories.
I have a new theory on teenagers (and tweenagers for that matter.) They have invisible gremlin-type "friends" (along the lines of Drop Dead Fred) who gradually assert their mischievousness with ever increasing audacity as the teenage years progress. Who else makes the mess, misplaces stuff, forgets to put dirty clothes out, accumulates bath towels in the bedroom, and is responsible for the chocolate and lolly wrappers discovered, by Mum, under the bed. And who must have put that dirty plastic cup with chocolate milk remnants IN the bedside table drawer. NOT the teenager, apparently.
Backtracking a bit to the early formulation of my theory, here's an example. Ms 15 cannot find her black netball skirt. She huffs and puffs about it each Tuesday as if it is the fault of She Who Does The Laundry. SHDTL, by the way, is unmoved. Well, that part isn't hard, when the room of Ms 15, until recently looked like this:
Backtracking a bit to the early formulation of my theory, here's an example. Ms 15 cannot find her black netball skirt. She huffs and puffs about it each Tuesday as if it is the fault of She Who Does The Laundry. SHDTL, by the way, is unmoved. Well, that part isn't hard, when the room of Ms 15, until recently looked like this:
Then, when Ms 10 couldn't find her swimming costume (before swimming squad) yesterday, Ms 15 also commented that she was missing a couple of pairs of blue undies, as well as the netball skirt. "I tell you, things go missing in this place." she says.
When Ms 15 was out today I decided to go looking for "things" in her room, and happened to look under the bed. OM effing G. There was a lot of "stuff" under there. Including the aforementioned litter. And dirty underwear. (Unfortunately not the blue ones.) And a truckload of dirty tissues. Several water bottles. And other stuff. Like a jigsaw puzzle, for instance.
Her fault?! Of course not. The "oh my goodness, how the hell did that all get there?" look on her face would have been priceless if I wasn't so bloody annoyed. She cannot imagine how the dirty underwear got there - she hasn't worn those for ages. (I cannot even bear to go so far as to give you the description of the dirty underwear... and I couldn't bring myself to take a photo of the pile of under-bed detritus that I left for her to clean up on the floor.) And seeing she doesn't wea them anymore, she should just throw them out, right? She also can't imagine how the dirty cup got there - in the drawer?!! Just plain weird, that one.
Of the four (4) towels hanging around the room, one had an orange stain on it. The 'child' who paints in her bedroom insists that it isn't paint, and she cannot imagine what it could possibly be, or how it got there.
After giving her some time to clean up, I went upstairs and looked in on her. Ok, so the rubbish was cleared (but not yet out in the bin) She was sitting on her bedroom floor doing the jigsaw puzzle. As you do, when your mother has just called you home and given you a lecture about the disgusting crap under your bed. And then you roll your eyes and wonder why in heaven's name your mother is just a bit stroppy. After all, she is innocent, and so Mum has no grounds for being cranky. Right?
So it's gremlins, patently.
OK, well, if not gremlins, then it is an orchestrated plan by the three of them to send me insane.
Yesterday when I got back from driving Ms 10 to swimming - in her beach bikini, seeing the one-piece was still MIA (as a tweenager, she isn't as adept at the 'must be SWDTL innuendo' strategy ) - I discovered that Ms 13 had decided to bake shortbread biscuits as presents for her friends. (Instead of cards, you see, which I support in theory. But...)
She is my competent one in the kitchen (moreso than her older sister - after all, she can break an egg, while Ms 15 still refuses to do so...) - however time management is still not a strong point. Within minutes of me arriving home, she actually had to be ready for a lift to netball, and this is the kitchen bench I was left with:
With that tray waiting to go in the oven. Ah, and with one tray IN the oven - with 10 minutes to go on the timer. (Lucky I noticed THAT, given that shortbread takes only 15 minutes, and she was going to be gone for over 2 hours.)
Lots of room for Mum to prepare dinner. NOT.
Probably Fred, the Gremlin, made her do it.
Either that, or the three of them are plotting to slowly nudge me over the edge into a breakdown.
.
Saturday, November 08, 2008
Preoccupied
Thankfully this week I haven't actually felt like strangling anyone, so there's a plus. (Except for the usual amount of times I get stroppy with the kids, but that's nothing out of the ordinary.) Possibly I've just hit the next stage on the hormonal rollercoaster, with this last week being defined more by introspection than anything else.
My lower back decided last weekend it was time to give me a bit of curry. It does so from time to time for no apparent reason. A chiro visit on Monday helped... but in the early hours of Thursday morning my left arm decided to get in on the act and go the whole nerve-pinching pain thing, so I haven't been on top of the world. A chiro visit yesterday has helped that - but I'm not quite myself again yet. (And I keep thinking that I'm certainly contributing to the chiropractor's superannuation fund, if not a new car or two.) I've not exercised all week because of the back and arm, and so a happy little vegemite I am not.
At TAFE I'm in the process of deciding what to do next year. It's a part of the course I'm doing to do so, but it's also what I need to do anyway. I've applied to do a one year course in Information Technology (Web Design). I *think* it's what I want to do when "I grow up", but I guess I'm not 100% sure. On Thursday I decided to use the counselling service at TAFE - they do careers counselling as well as the personal stuff. Hell, it's free, why not? My first session was helpful - and I'm going back next week. Perhaps she will help me unearth whatever it is within that tells me I can't do stuff - though I'm not completely sure about the airy fairy stuff.
The oldest teenager is doing the girl with the curl thing, and when she's not being good and helpful and lovely, she is being dramatic, and accusative, (and unhelpful) and we are apparently unreasonable and over protective parents who are going to scar her for life because we are following the 'no computers in bedroom' line as advised to parents. And we won't/wouldn't let her go to a party at a town 2 hours away... She doesn't bring friends around here because we are, apparently, Embarrassing, (because I dare to engage her friends in a bit of conversation it seems), her sisters are Annoying and she can't get away from any of us in 'our open plan house', despite the fact that she has her own room. Pardon me for just BEING, and for not having a house with rumpus rooms/separate TV rooms and the like. I'm not sure what palaces her friends live in.
The biggest challenge (and preoccupation) at the moment is that we are planning a cycling holiday riding, with other tandem acquaintances, down the east coast of Tasmania - next February. Planning and communication with the other parties has to be done online, and that is proving to be ... interesting. I am about to bite the bullet and book our fares on the Spirit of Tasmania - the ferry between the mainland and Tasmania. We are going to drive to Melbourne (2 day drive from here) and then slum it on the ferry. It looks costly, but by the time we weighed up the cost and hassle of plane fares, with camping gear and tandems, extra accommodation for a family of five, and airport shuttles, the overnight ferry experience won out.
Weighing up the pros and cons of shared costs for the ride has been another challenge altogether. However - it looks like it's going to happen, and .. did I mention?... I'm about to make the booking. Today. Sometime. It is exciting and yet daunting all at the same time. I thrive on the planning of something like this, though at the same time it stresses and consumes me. Today I have reached the point where I am saying to Marc 'So? Do I book it?' Point of no return. A financial investment in another family holiday and adventure. I haven't quite done so.. but sometime later today I will. I WILL.
The planning for that will ebb and flow - until it reaches panic stations in February!
Meanwhile I just have to manage the teenage angst, my own angst - and decisions about where I'm heading with the rest of my life...
And finalising the last requirements for this current course. A few pieces of writing, which should be right up my alley, seeing I want to do something with writing to earn a quid or two, yet I am procrastinating over it all nonetheless. (And a First Aid "exam" on Tuesday.)
And Christmas is around the corner, and that stresses me out like not much else can.
I'm not sure where blogging fits into this, but while I work on reinventing myself, I might just need to vent every now and then. (Is it significant that the word "vent" appears in reinvent?)
When I am not venting, I will inevitably be preoccupied.
My lower back decided last weekend it was time to give me a bit of curry. It does so from time to time for no apparent reason. A chiro visit on Monday helped... but in the early hours of Thursday morning my left arm decided to get in on the act and go the whole nerve-pinching pain thing, so I haven't been on top of the world. A chiro visit yesterday has helped that - but I'm not quite myself again yet. (And I keep thinking that I'm certainly contributing to the chiropractor's superannuation fund, if not a new car or two.) I've not exercised all week because of the back and arm, and so a happy little vegemite I am not.
At TAFE I'm in the process of deciding what to do next year. It's a part of the course I'm doing to do so, but it's also what I need to do anyway. I've applied to do a one year course in Information Technology (Web Design). I *think* it's what I want to do when "I grow up", but I guess I'm not 100% sure. On Thursday I decided to use the counselling service at TAFE - they do careers counselling as well as the personal stuff. Hell, it's free, why not? My first session was helpful - and I'm going back next week. Perhaps she will help me unearth whatever it is within that tells me I can't do stuff - though I'm not completely sure about the airy fairy stuff.
The oldest teenager is doing the girl with the curl thing, and when she's not being good and helpful and lovely, she is being dramatic, and accusative, (and unhelpful) and we are apparently unreasonable and over protective parents who are going to scar her for life because we are following the 'no computers in bedroom' line as advised to parents. And we won't/wouldn't let her go to a party at a town 2 hours away... She doesn't bring friends around here because we are, apparently, Embarrassing, (because I dare to engage her friends in a bit of conversation it seems), her sisters are Annoying and she can't get away from any of us in 'our open plan house', despite the fact that she has her own room. Pardon me for just BEING, and for not having a house with rumpus rooms/separate TV rooms and the like. I'm not sure what palaces her friends live in.
The biggest challenge (and preoccupation) at the moment is that we are planning a cycling holiday riding, with other tandem acquaintances, down the east coast of Tasmania - next February. Planning and communication with the other parties has to be done online, and that is proving to be ... interesting. I am about to bite the bullet and book our fares on the Spirit of Tasmania - the ferry between the mainland and Tasmania. We are going to drive to Melbourne (2 day drive from here) and then slum it on the ferry. It looks costly, but by the time we weighed up the cost and hassle of plane fares, with camping gear and tandems, extra accommodation for a family of five, and airport shuttles, the overnight ferry experience won out.
Weighing up the pros and cons of shared costs for the ride has been another challenge altogether. However - it looks like it's going to happen, and .. did I mention?... I'm about to make the booking. Today. Sometime. It is exciting and yet daunting all at the same time. I thrive on the planning of something like this, though at the same time it stresses and consumes me. Today I have reached the point where I am saying to Marc 'So? Do I book it?' Point of no return. A financial investment in another family holiday and adventure. I haven't quite done so.. but sometime later today I will. I WILL.
The planning for that will ebb and flow - until it reaches panic stations in February!
Meanwhile I just have to manage the teenage angst, my own angst - and decisions about where I'm heading with the rest of my life...
And finalising the last requirements for this current course. A few pieces of writing, which should be right up my alley, seeing I want to do something with writing to earn a quid or two, yet I am procrastinating over it all nonetheless. (And a First Aid "exam" on Tuesday.)
And Christmas is around the corner, and that stresses me out like not much else can.
I'm not sure where blogging fits into this, but while I work on reinventing myself, I might just need to vent every now and then. (Is it significant that the word "vent" appears in reinvent?)
When I am not venting, I will inevitably be preoccupied.
Labels: bike riding, daily, parenting, teenagers
Wednesday, May 23, 2007
Absurds
So I have spent some of my morning straining MY brain cells on Year 9 maths.. and surds in particular. (I let Limpy have another day off with her hip, because she had PE Prac and Sport today. No point going just so she can sit and watch. She may as well be doing this bloody maths!)
I've learnt at least that I still have the determination to figure Maths out, even when I get it wrong in the first place. And it's usually a "Duh" thing. Go back to the chapter and you'll find it in there somewhere.
Ms 14 Minus 3 days has not that determination. She just gets stroppy, and tries to say that it is all irrational (which is what surds are!) Which kind of figures. She can be a bit like that with things in general. Irrational. Absurd even! (Yes, yes, she's a teenager.) Mind you, I am hard pressed to come up with some possible use for surds later in life, particularly when she has no intention of taking up any career involving Mathematics. Or so she thinks. Do you think telling her that it is just good for her to work her brain will work? Hmmm.. didn't think so.
So, no, I am not enjoying this Week of Maths. (And it will have to be an ongoing thing even after she 'catches up'.) Marc comes home from work, then has to pin her down, and be there to talk her through the 'duh' bits. And the 'blonde' moments. It does make me wonder how you'd teach a class full of kids ranging in ability, and speed at which they grasp mathematical concepts and procedures. He was unimpressed at how little she did yesterday during the day.
By the time she's been sent to bed, neither he nor I are much in the mood for relaxing and catching up. It's an issue I am finding even without the maths tutoring. As the kids get older they stay up later and later, and I find we are losing "our time". Perhaps others aren't so selfish about it - I know many people who think nothing of going to bed the same time as the kids - or before their partner. But I like my evening 'just us two' time. I suppose this is just another phase to get through - till we are empty nesters and rattling around the house driving each other nuts!
We will have a taste of that in the school holidays in July. We are leaving the kids at their grandparents in Sydney for a few days (after the State Age netball).. coming back home for the rest of the week, because Marc has to work, then going back down 2/3 of the way to Sydney to meet up with the kids at Marc's mum's, and to spend a couple of days with her.
I wonder how I will feel about having no kids to complain about for 3 days?!!!!
I've learnt at least that I still have the determination to figure Maths out, even when I get it wrong in the first place. And it's usually a "Duh" thing. Go back to the chapter and you'll find it in there somewhere.
Ms 14 Minus 3 days has not that determination. She just gets stroppy, and tries to say that it is all irrational (which is what surds are!) Which kind of figures. She can be a bit like that with things in general. Irrational. Absurd even! (Yes, yes, she's a teenager.) Mind you, I am hard pressed to come up with some possible use for surds later in life, particularly when she has no intention of taking up any career involving Mathematics. Or so she thinks. Do you think telling her that it is just good for her to work her brain will work? Hmmm.. didn't think so.
So, no, I am not enjoying this Week of Maths. (And it will have to be an ongoing thing even after she 'catches up'.) Marc comes home from work, then has to pin her down, and be there to talk her through the 'duh' bits. And the 'blonde' moments. It does make me wonder how you'd teach a class full of kids ranging in ability, and speed at which they grasp mathematical concepts and procedures. He was unimpressed at how little she did yesterday during the day.
By the time she's been sent to bed, neither he nor I are much in the mood for relaxing and catching up. It's an issue I am finding even without the maths tutoring. As the kids get older they stay up later and later, and I find we are losing "our time". Perhaps others aren't so selfish about it - I know many people who think nothing of going to bed the same time as the kids - or before their partner. But I like my evening 'just us two' time. I suppose this is just another phase to get through - till we are empty nesters and rattling around the house driving each other nuts!
We will have a taste of that in the school holidays in July. We are leaving the kids at their grandparents in Sydney for a few days (after the State Age netball).. coming back home for the rest of the week, because Marc has to work, then going back down 2/3 of the way to Sydney to meet up with the kids at Marc's mum's, and to spend a couple of days with her.
I wonder how I will feel about having no kids to complain about for 3 days?!!!!
Labels: daily, holidays, parenting, teenagers
Tuesday, May 22, 2007
You're not going to blog me are you?
Ah, but yes. But it's not all bad.
Eldest had a heavy fall at rep netball training last night. Right on her hip. It was quite a *thud* apparently - the coach even rang me when she got home because she was a bit concerned. At the very least she'll be sporting an impressive bruise before long... but I guess we have to wait to see whether she's done any worse damage. I figured she'd be pretty sore today, and indeed she woke up finding it hard to walk properly. So she's getting a day off school. The trade-off is that she has to do a lot of maths!
This has caused a slight problem, in that I had planned to go to the shops today to do birthday present shopping for her - she is turning 14 on Saturday. Yet while I have no problem with leaving her at home, I am not sure that I can trust her to keep to the maths. Marc has been supervising and tutoring her most evenings, occasionally glaring and muttering at me that I could be helping too, you know! (I tend to support the division of labour method according to ability and skill, and he is far better equipped to tutor maths.) I am pretty sure when I get home she'll be "having a break" in front of the TV.
All this maths business puts us in a bit of an ironic situation. Here we are telling her that she should pull her finger out with the maths, because it's important - 'too important' a subject to throw away (well, particularly if you really do have the brains but are just too lazy to use them.)
Then she has me as the role model of someone who did the maths (albeit without the angst) but can't remember most of it. If I'm to help her, I will have to re-teach myself Year 9 maths, which is not something I particularly feel like doing right now, not this week anyway. Been there done that, got the certificate - and didn't follow through with the maths. (Mind you I can still do some of the basic stuff that she has some rather scary brain fades over.) But if I have managed to get through my adult life so far not needing to know how to do 'all that shit', it's pretty hard to impress on her the usefulness of algebra, geometry, indices and surds ... (Surds? I don't even recall the term, although once explained I can nod and say 'oh, right... those!')
Then again, much of school, and even uni, when it comes down to it, is a means to an end.. and getting the bit of paper at the end of it. Which could be the topic of a whole new post where I bemoan the uselessness of my degree. (BA stands for 'Bugger All') I used the phrase 'means to an end' talking to her about it the other day, and she didn't really get what I meant.
So, meantime, and despite getting a Maths half-yearly test for her birthday, it's "celebration" time on the weekend, and today is really the only day I have left this week to shop for her. Which is a bit difficult...I'm not quite sure what to get her; I have a couple of ideas, but I'm not sure about type, and how much to spend, etc. I actually said to her the other day 'Why is it that this year, again, leading up to your birthday, your attitude and general behaviour hasn't contributed to making me feel all warm and fuzzy about putting myself out for your birthday?" (Last year she actually lost her birthday party through some misdemeanour or other!) Seriously.. she seems to have gone to town on the Attitude again just recently. Or maybe I am just noticing it more because I have to reconcile being a loving mummy at birthday time with stuff that she says and does that really shits me!
She had at least the grace to say 'I don't know', rather than give me more Attitude. And she did ask "You're not going to blog me are you?".
I rather think that that threat could be quite a powerful one to use, oh, for the next few years at least! Although I think she's smart enough to realise that, good or bad, I'll do it anyway! You'd think if you were her, she'd make sure I only had good and wonderful things to blog about her!
Back to the Maths. And birthday presents. And birthday.. celebrations....
Eldest had a heavy fall at rep netball training last night. Right on her hip. It was quite a *thud* apparently - the coach even rang me when she got home because she was a bit concerned. At the very least she'll be sporting an impressive bruise before long... but I guess we have to wait to see whether she's done any worse damage. I figured she'd be pretty sore today, and indeed she woke up finding it hard to walk properly. So she's getting a day off school. The trade-off is that she has to do a lot of maths!
This has caused a slight problem, in that I had planned to go to the shops today to do birthday present shopping for her - she is turning 14 on Saturday. Yet while I have no problem with leaving her at home, I am not sure that I can trust her to keep to the maths. Marc has been supervising and tutoring her most evenings, occasionally glaring and muttering at me that I could be helping too, you know! (I tend to support the division of labour method according to ability and skill, and he is far better equipped to tutor maths.) I am pretty sure when I get home she'll be "having a break" in front of the TV.
All this maths business puts us in a bit of an ironic situation. Here we are telling her that she should pull her finger out with the maths, because it's important - 'too important' a subject to throw away (well, particularly if you really do have the brains but are just too lazy to use them.)
Then she has me as the role model of someone who did the maths (albeit without the angst) but can't remember most of it. If I'm to help her, I will have to re-teach myself Year 9 maths, which is not something I particularly feel like doing right now, not this week anyway. Been there done that, got the certificate - and didn't follow through with the maths. (Mind you I can still do some of the basic stuff that she has some rather scary brain fades over.) But if I have managed to get through my adult life so far not needing to know how to do 'all that shit', it's pretty hard to impress on her the usefulness of algebra, geometry, indices and surds ... (Surds? I don't even recall the term, although once explained I can nod and say 'oh, right... those!')
Then again, much of school, and even uni, when it comes down to it, is a means to an end.. and getting the bit of paper at the end of it. Which could be the topic of a whole new post where I bemoan the uselessness of my degree. (BA stands for 'Bugger All') I used the phrase 'means to an end' talking to her about it the other day, and she didn't really get what I meant.
So, meantime, and despite getting a Maths half-yearly test for her birthday, it's "celebration" time on the weekend, and today is really the only day I have left this week to shop for her. Which is a bit difficult...I'm not quite sure what to get her; I have a couple of ideas, but I'm not sure about type, and how much to spend, etc. I actually said to her the other day 'Why is it that this year, again, leading up to your birthday, your attitude and general behaviour hasn't contributed to making me feel all warm and fuzzy about putting myself out for your birthday?" (Last year she actually lost her birthday party through some misdemeanour or other!) Seriously.. she seems to have gone to town on the Attitude again just recently. Or maybe I am just noticing it more because I have to reconcile being a loving mummy at birthday time with stuff that she says and does that really shits me!
She had at least the grace to say 'I don't know', rather than give me more Attitude. And she did ask "You're not going to blog me are you?".
I rather think that that threat could be quite a powerful one to use, oh, for the next few years at least! Although I think she's smart enough to realise that, good or bad, I'll do it anyway! You'd think if you were her, she'd make sure I only had good and wonderful things to blog about her!
Back to the Maths. And birthday presents. And birthday.. celebrations....
Labels: birthdays, daily, parenting, teenagers
Tuesday, May 15, 2007
No care, no responsibility
The Teenager is not very popular around here over a few things, which can all be pretty much summed up as Attitude. I am assuming that it is all relatively normal teenage type behaviour, and while I know it could be a lot, lot worse, it is driving me nuts.
Her latest "excuses" for anything are "I didn't mean to".. and ... "I forgot". Which in her eyes are an automatic get out of jail free card. If she says she didn't mean to do something, or that she forgot then we have no right to take her to task on it. Translated: Shut up Mum. Shut up Dad. I'll do what I want (until I want something that is).
"I didn't MEAN to get paint on my school uniform". Systematically, every shirt and pair of pants is being ruined because she does Art at school. "Don't you cover up?" I ask. "Please cover up." The answer is this vague "I do", but it's obvious that she doesn't. And that she couldn't actually give a stuff. One pair of navy pants covered in white paint? Oh well, whatever.. actually, Mum, these are getting tight on me, I think I need a bigger size. Two out of three light blue shirts now have yellow and red paint on them so that they look like art shirts now. Very expensive bloody art shirts.
I tell her that this is not good enough... to ruin clothes like this, and she shrugs. She didn't MEAN to, so ... like... whatever, and stop nagging me about it.
Parent-teacher interviews are on this week, and the system is that a few weeks earlier the kids get timesheets, and they have to approach each teacher to schedule a 5 minute interview time. OK, we'd like to see every teacher, so please get in and get interviews. She has systematically "forgotten" each day, after getting only English and Photography. The maths or science teacher insisted that the form be signed beforehand by a parent as an indication that we are aware and serious about being there (though for the life of me I can't see a kid scheduling an interview without being nagged about it by their parent.) So she 'forgot' to get us to sign it, then blamed us for not signing it, and still tried to use that excuse AFTER I had signed it. Two days she had!
When pushed then she counters with I FORGOT, ALRIGHT! And how dare you be cross with me because I just FORGOT.
I am still working on how to effectively dish out the same thing to her to make her realise how overboard she is being. Anything I can think of would either be neglectful parenting (like - I forgot to make enough dinner for you!)... or would backfire (she would wear unironed clothes if I forgot to iron hers!)
Any ideas? Help!!!
Her latest "excuses" for anything are "I didn't mean to".. and ... "I forgot". Which in her eyes are an automatic get out of jail free card. If she says she didn't mean to do something, or that she forgot then we have no right to take her to task on it. Translated: Shut up Mum. Shut up Dad. I'll do what I want (until I want something that is).
"I didn't MEAN to get paint on my school uniform". Systematically, every shirt and pair of pants is being ruined because she does Art at school. "Don't you cover up?" I ask. "Please cover up." The answer is this vague "I do", but it's obvious that she doesn't. And that she couldn't actually give a stuff. One pair of navy pants covered in white paint? Oh well, whatever.. actually, Mum, these are getting tight on me, I think I need a bigger size. Two out of three light blue shirts now have yellow and red paint on them so that they look like art shirts now. Very expensive bloody art shirts.
I tell her that this is not good enough... to ruin clothes like this, and she shrugs. She didn't MEAN to, so ... like... whatever, and stop nagging me about it.
Parent-teacher interviews are on this week, and the system is that a few weeks earlier the kids get timesheets, and they have to approach each teacher to schedule a 5 minute interview time. OK, we'd like to see every teacher, so please get in and get interviews. She has systematically "forgotten" each day, after getting only English and Photography. The maths or science teacher insisted that the form be signed beforehand by a parent as an indication that we are aware and serious about being there (though for the life of me I can't see a kid scheduling an interview without being nagged about it by their parent.) So she 'forgot' to get us to sign it, then blamed us for not signing it, and still tried to use that excuse AFTER I had signed it. Two days she had!
When pushed then she counters with I FORGOT, ALRIGHT! And how dare you be cross with me because I just FORGOT.
I am still working on how to effectively dish out the same thing to her to make her realise how overboard she is being. Anything I can think of would either be neglectful parenting (like - I forgot to make enough dinner for you!)... or would backfire (she would wear unironed clothes if I forgot to iron hers!)
Any ideas? Help!!!
Monday, February 26, 2007
Do I look that stupid?
Heh. What is it with teenagers, and tweenagers for that matter? Lying!! Why do they try to get away with the un-get-awayable? Do they think we're stupid or what?
The background: Thursday night when I pick up pizzas, I buy a bottle of lemonade. We have a tradition in our family that the kids get fizzy primarily for 'special' occasions. It doesn't reside in the fridge for daily consumption. Parties, celebrations, (and when they have ridden many kilometres on a bike.) Whenever anyone in the family has 'done good', we celebrate, and they can have fizzy. So, Thursday, Alison's haul at the swimming carnival was certainly meritorious. (And Zoe swam well too) So, yes, I bought a bottle of lemonade.
Arrive home with the pizzas - nothing has been done in preparation. Mum gets the poops, and they don't get lemonade, and it sits unopened in the fridge.
Fast forward to last night. Alison asks if they can have the lemonade. Guess they didn't do much to earn it yesterday, but maybe I did on their behalf - (40 km of mountain bike riding.) Or maybe I was just too stuffed to say no.
"Yeah, ok", I relent. Ali gets it out of the fridge, and hmmm.. interesting... it has been opened and about a glass worth has been consumed.
"Rightio, who opened the lemonade?"
"Not I" said Alison. "Not I" said Zoe. "Not I" said the teenager who had arrived home at least an hour earlier than the rest of us.
"You're kidding aren't you!" I say. "One house, currently 4 occupants, and you expect me to believe that not one of you opened it!!" We all look at the obvious culprit.
"Ah, duh... yeah... well, I only took a little bit."
"Well, none for you for dinner then."
"But it was only a little bit!!!"
"Um, Caitlin. You might just have got away with it, despite it not really being the right thing to do (especially as the celebration was not, that day, on your behalf.).. But you lied about it!! What possessed you to lie?"
"Um, it was just an automatic reaction."
Terrific.
Automatic reaction. Deny, deny, lie... ??
I can't figure it. Does she really think I'm that stupid? Unless.. (recalling my university psychology lectures), there has been a variable schedule of reinforcement occuring. Translation: Is she actually getting away with it more than I realise, so that it has actually become a Pavlovian response to lie as an automatic response.
In which case, maybe I'm not as on the ball as I thought I was.
Guess we are all only human... and we all make errors. And some are far dumber than not picking up your teenager's propensity to lie!
I'll leave you with these for a chuckle:
The background: Thursday night when I pick up pizzas, I buy a bottle of lemonade. We have a tradition in our family that the kids get fizzy primarily for 'special' occasions. It doesn't reside in the fridge for daily consumption. Parties, celebrations, (and when they have ridden many kilometres on a bike.) Whenever anyone in the family has 'done good', we celebrate, and they can have fizzy. So, Thursday, Alison's haul at the swimming carnival was certainly meritorious. (And Zoe swam well too) So, yes, I bought a bottle of lemonade.
Arrive home with the pizzas - nothing has been done in preparation. Mum gets the poops, and they don't get lemonade, and it sits unopened in the fridge.
Fast forward to last night. Alison asks if they can have the lemonade. Guess they didn't do much to earn it yesterday, but maybe I did on their behalf - (40 km of mountain bike riding.) Or maybe I was just too stuffed to say no.
"Yeah, ok", I relent. Ali gets it out of the fridge, and hmmm.. interesting... it has been opened and about a glass worth has been consumed.
"Rightio, who opened the lemonade?"
"Not I" said Alison. "Not I" said Zoe. "Not I" said the teenager who had arrived home at least an hour earlier than the rest of us.
"You're kidding aren't you!" I say. "One house, currently 4 occupants, and you expect me to believe that not one of you opened it!!" We all look at the obvious culprit.
"Ah, duh... yeah... well, I only took a little bit."
"Well, none for you for dinner then."
"But it was only a little bit!!!"
"Um, Caitlin. You might just have got away with it, despite it not really being the right thing to do (especially as the celebration was not, that day, on your behalf.).. But you lied about it!! What possessed you to lie?"
"Um, it was just an automatic reaction."
Terrific.
Automatic reaction. Deny, deny, lie... ??
I can't figure it. Does she really think I'm that stupid? Unless.. (recalling my university psychology lectures), there has been a variable schedule of reinforcement occuring. Translation: Is she actually getting away with it more than I realise, so that it has actually become a Pavlovian response to lie as an automatic response.
In which case, maybe I'm not as on the ball as I thought I was.
Guess we are all only human... and we all make errors. And some are far dumber than not picking up your teenager's propensity to lie!
I'll leave you with these for a chuckle:
Labels: doh, parenting, teenagers
Saturday, February 17, 2007
Inertia
Do you ever sit around at night, growing more and more tired, knowing that you really need to take yourself to bed.. but somehow the effort involved in doing that seems too much?
So you just sit, doing nothing of consequence or importance, feeling even vaguely nauseous because you are tired.. but you still sit. And sit. Knowing you have to finish up in the kitchen before you trundle upstairs. So you put it off, and off, and off...
You don't? Bet you jump out of bed all bright eyed and bushy tailed at sunrise as well...
Gah, I wish I wasn't such a night owl. (Because shortly I will suddenly get a second wind, so I'll still be going well after midnight.) I wish I didn't mind getting up in the dark as much as I don't mind hanging round at night - in the dark. Funny how I find one "acceptable" and the other not.
So much for the big plans to bike ride this morning, and all the 'Go Tracey Go' motivation racketing through cyberspace into my blogspace. (I really milked it in that post didn't I?!)
It rained! I woke up to the sound of rain around 3.45 am, and so had to go around the house (down and up 2 flights of stairs) closing windows. Barely another hour of sleep and I woke up with the alarm at 5 am, peered out the window into pitch black, and was actually somewhat relieved to realise it was still raining. (I don't do any form of sleep interruption in the night at all well anymore... I know that will sound really pathetic to anyone struggling with crying babies...sorry!)
With daylight saving still happening, but the days getting shorter again, sunrise isn't till around 6.30am (civil twilight around 6am). Which leaves one whole hour of dark still - if you are mad enough to set your alarm for 5 that is! Perhaps if it had been light already, I may have felt gung ho enough to stick the bike on the roof rack and head in to ride in the rain and pretend to be a hard core cycling nut. Sometimes I would like to be that nutty, because afterwards you feel kind of charged with some weird sort of manic adrenalin.
But not in the dark AND wet. No, no, no. Back to bed for me. Back to bed, then sleeping through the re-set alarm to panic dream about sleeping in till 10.15 am so that my daughter missed going to a netball rep squad training at 10.00. (Which she really had at 10.00 today!) In the dream I find out that despite the rain, it was still on, and the coach (not the same as the one in real life - you know how dreams are weird like that) was vague about whether she was still going to be eligible for rep selection. Arrgh! I was feeling so terrible about it all... Imagine my relief when I really woke up, and saw that it wasn't quite 9.00! And it was still raining! (And thus I had time to ring the real coach and find out that it was called off!)
The rest of the day comprised of 'hours' of netball registration. Me assisting (because I am on the committee) for two hours in one place. Then a mad dash to get to town by 2pm to register the eldest in a club in there (because that daughter plays rep in there; our association being 'new' -it was formerly a 'club'under the umbrella of the other one - and not having the numbers in her age group to form a rep team. And if that makes sense to anyone it's a miracle..heck, most of you won't even know what netball is!)
Registering in there had its own challenges because of the choice of clubs, tied in with training afternoon availability, and the blatant snubbing of my daughter by the girl from 'our' area club/association who she has played rep with for the last 2 years. This other girl has become (according to my daughter) one of the 'plastics'... Even I can see that she (and others from the rep team) are just a bit 'too cool for school'. Luckily Cait is pretty unfazed by it. I think she had hoped that she would be included for her netball ability (they work well together on court), but it was clearly not so, and so she reckons it doesn't bother her. She wouldn't choose to hang with them normally, so, we joined her up with a different club, on a different training afternoon, and she's well out of that company, really. For all her faults, she is, at least, not (yet - and I hope not ever) one of the type who have to try to act all cool and smart and cliquey (and call other people names to look cool - or whatever the latest variant on 'cool' is.)
Quite topically, we finished off the day watching the movie 'Mean Girls' on TV. Bit of mindless trash, but it had a message worth reinforcing.
I feel mentally drained, and a bit bummed that I didn't ride or do any exercise. The rain stopped and it got really hot and humid in the afternoon, so it was hard to feel like bolting out and doing anything energetic. So I didn't.
Tomorrow is another day. The youngest two got left at home today to "CLEAN UP OR ELSE YOU WON'T BE GOING TO ANY FRIENDS' PLACES OR HAVING FRIENDS AROUND HERE... AND NO, I'M NOT TAKING YOU TO THE BEACH THIS AFTERNOON, I WANT BIG GARBAGE BAGS FULL OF CRAP FROM YOUR ROOM, PLAYROOM AND DESKS! AND IF YOU DON'T DO IT, I WILL (and trust me i will be ruthless!)"
I hope to reacquaint myself with the vacuum cleaner tomorrow, and have a bit of a clean out binge. I have to do something in the house cleaning vein that is of some consequence. Something that will look still 'done' in a couple of weeks, rather than a couple of hours.
I had better reaquaint myself with a bike too, because, a month from today, we'll be heading off on our 9 day/500km ride. So bike cred, rather than vacuum cleaner cred, is probably, in the scheme of things, more important!
So you just sit, doing nothing of consequence or importance, feeling even vaguely nauseous because you are tired.. but you still sit. And sit. Knowing you have to finish up in the kitchen before you trundle upstairs. So you put it off, and off, and off...
You don't? Bet you jump out of bed all bright eyed and bushy tailed at sunrise as well...
Gah, I wish I wasn't such a night owl. (Because shortly I will suddenly get a second wind, so I'll still be going well after midnight.) I wish I didn't mind getting up in the dark as much as I don't mind hanging round at night - in the dark. Funny how I find one "acceptable" and the other not.
So much for the big plans to bike ride this morning, and all the 'Go Tracey Go' motivation racketing through cyberspace into my blogspace. (I really milked it in that post didn't I?!)
It rained! I woke up to the sound of rain around 3.45 am, and so had to go around the house (down and up 2 flights of stairs) closing windows. Barely another hour of sleep and I woke up with the alarm at 5 am, peered out the window into pitch black, and was actually somewhat relieved to realise it was still raining. (I don't do any form of sleep interruption in the night at all well anymore... I know that will sound really pathetic to anyone struggling with crying babies...sorry!)
With daylight saving still happening, but the days getting shorter again, sunrise isn't till around 6.30am (civil twilight around 6am). Which leaves one whole hour of dark still - if you are mad enough to set your alarm for 5 that is! Perhaps if it had been light already, I may have felt gung ho enough to stick the bike on the roof rack and head in to ride in the rain and pretend to be a hard core cycling nut. Sometimes I would like to be that nutty, because afterwards you feel kind of charged with some weird sort of manic adrenalin.
But not in the dark AND wet. No, no, no. Back to bed for me. Back to bed, then sleeping through the re-set alarm to panic dream about sleeping in till 10.15 am so that my daughter missed going to a netball rep squad training at 10.00. (Which she really had at 10.00 today!) In the dream I find out that despite the rain, it was still on, and the coach (not the same as the one in real life - you know how dreams are weird like that) was vague about whether she was still going to be eligible for rep selection. Arrgh! I was feeling so terrible about it all... Imagine my relief when I really woke up, and saw that it wasn't quite 9.00! And it was still raining! (And thus I had time to ring the real coach and find out that it was called off!)
The rest of the day comprised of 'hours' of netball registration. Me assisting (because I am on the committee) for two hours in one place. Then a mad dash to get to town by 2pm to register the eldest in a club in there (because that daughter plays rep in there; our association being 'new' -it was formerly a 'club'under the umbrella of the other one - and not having the numbers in her age group to form a rep team. And if that makes sense to anyone it's a miracle..heck, most of you won't even know what netball is!)
Registering in there had its own challenges because of the choice of clubs, tied in with training afternoon availability, and the blatant snubbing of my daughter by the girl from 'our' area club/association who she has played rep with for the last 2 years. This other girl has become (according to my daughter) one of the 'plastics'... Even I can see that she (and others from the rep team) are just a bit 'too cool for school'. Luckily Cait is pretty unfazed by it. I think she had hoped that she would be included for her netball ability (they work well together on court), but it was clearly not so, and so she reckons it doesn't bother her. She wouldn't choose to hang with them normally, so, we joined her up with a different club, on a different training afternoon, and she's well out of that company, really. For all her faults, she is, at least, not (yet - and I hope not ever) one of the type who have to try to act all cool and smart and cliquey (and call other people names to look cool - or whatever the latest variant on 'cool' is.)
Quite topically, we finished off the day watching the movie 'Mean Girls' on TV. Bit of mindless trash, but it had a message worth reinforcing.
I feel mentally drained, and a bit bummed that I didn't ride or do any exercise. The rain stopped and it got really hot and humid in the afternoon, so it was hard to feel like bolting out and doing anything energetic. So I didn't.
Tomorrow is another day. The youngest two got left at home today to "CLEAN UP OR ELSE YOU WON'T BE GOING TO ANY FRIENDS' PLACES OR HAVING FRIENDS AROUND HERE... AND NO, I'M NOT TAKING YOU TO THE BEACH THIS AFTERNOON, I WANT BIG GARBAGE BAGS FULL OF CRAP FROM YOUR ROOM, PLAYROOM AND DESKS! AND IF YOU DON'T DO IT, I WILL (and trust me i will be ruthless!)"
I hope to reacquaint myself with the vacuum cleaner tomorrow, and have a bit of a clean out binge. I have to do something in the house cleaning vein that is of some consequence. Something that will look still 'done' in a couple of weeks, rather than a couple of hours.
I had better reaquaint myself with a bike too, because, a month from today, we'll be heading off on our 9 day/500km ride. So bike cred, rather than vacuum cleaner cred, is probably, in the scheme of things, more important!
Labels: bike riding, daily, parenting, teenagers
Saturday, January 13, 2007
How to be a sloth.
This is getting ridiculous. Getting to bed after midnight (blame the tennis on the telly, as well as this compulsive blog reading) then we listen to a quiz on the radio. So it's after 1 am and I'm still awake, even if he has fallen asleep with the radio on. Then we sleep in till after 10am! It's appalling really.
We're in this rut, and we can't get out. Well, I can't. Marc will probably bounce back tomorrow with a burst of energy to put me to shame. His shoulder is gradually feeling better (thanks partly I'm sure to a bit of a massage I gave him in the worst bit in the back of his shoulder! He can touch is face now, without lowering his face to his hand. There's improvement for you.)
It's warm outside, in that soporific way that humidity tends to bring.. so it doesn't inspire you to do much when you're in sloth mode already. (I was drenched from sweat after my little gallavant on the bike yesterday, so I'm not inspired to even hang a load of wet washing out. ) I guess the kids would like to go to the beach, but Dad won't be able to take them out the back.
I still feel funny in the chest. On my HUGE (not!) bike ride of 6.5 km, I felt like an asthmatic. (Well, I felt like I imagine an asthmatic feels).. and I still feel that way a bit. I guess I should get me to a chemist and fill the repeat script - presumably what the doctor wrote it for. Maybe it will bring me back to normal completely. (I just don't want another dose of thrush!) In the past few days I have also experienced my first ever sinus headaches, I think. (I've had my share of other headaches, but not this pressure type one emanating from the area around the bridge of my nose.) They aren't crashingly bad, but they are not helping me feel that terrific.
It's a bit pointless leaving the decision to get medicine till 4pm on a Saturday. There won't be any pharmacies open for miles.
And when you get up that late, breakfasts happen closer to lunch time. And then you pick at whatever you feel like for lunch. Poor deprived children. If there was ever an incentive to sit back and do absolutely nothing, though, it's the 13 year old:
Her: Is there any cold meat?
Me: Just the truckload of pastrami your father bought (that the rest of us don't like.)
Her: *grunts*. Isn't there any bread in the freezer?
Me: Only what's left of that multigrain on the bench. There's lots of tomatoes.
Her: *Pffft. Hmmmph. Sheesh*.. Well what IS there for lunch?
Me: Well, you could go to the shop and pick up some bread. [shop is 5 mins walk/2 mins bike ride]
Her: *snorts and stomps off, rolling her eyes and muttering*
Me and her dad: Geez, it's hard to find good staff these days isn't it.
We're in this rut, and we can't get out. Well, I can't. Marc will probably bounce back tomorrow with a burst of energy to put me to shame. His shoulder is gradually feeling better (thanks partly I'm sure to a bit of a massage I gave him in the worst bit in the back of his shoulder! He can touch is face now, without lowering his face to his hand. There's improvement for you.)
It's warm outside, in that soporific way that humidity tends to bring.. so it doesn't inspire you to do much when you're in sloth mode already. (I was drenched from sweat after my little gallavant on the bike yesterday, so I'm not inspired to even hang a load of wet washing out. ) I guess the kids would like to go to the beach, but Dad won't be able to take them out the back.
I still feel funny in the chest. On my HUGE (not!) bike ride of 6.5 km, I felt like an asthmatic. (Well, I felt like I imagine an asthmatic feels).. and I still feel that way a bit. I guess I should get me to a chemist and fill the repeat script - presumably what the doctor wrote it for. Maybe it will bring me back to normal completely. (I just don't want another dose of thrush!) In the past few days I have also experienced my first ever sinus headaches, I think. (I've had my share of other headaches, but not this pressure type one emanating from the area around the bridge of my nose.) They aren't crashingly bad, but they are not helping me feel that terrific.
It's a bit pointless leaving the decision to get medicine till 4pm on a Saturday. There won't be any pharmacies open for miles.
And when you get up that late, breakfasts happen closer to lunch time. And then you pick at whatever you feel like for lunch. Poor deprived children. If there was ever an incentive to sit back and do absolutely nothing, though, it's the 13 year old:
Her: Is there any cold meat?
Me: Just the truckload of pastrami your father bought (that the rest of us don't like.)
Her: *grunts*. Isn't there any bread in the freezer?
Me: Only what's left of that multigrain on the bench. There's lots of tomatoes.
Her: *Pffft. Hmmmph. Sheesh*.. Well what IS there for lunch?
Me: Well, you could go to the shop and pick up some bread. [shop is 5 mins walk/2 mins bike ride]
Her: *snorts and stomps off, rolling her eyes and muttering*
Me and her dad: Geez, it's hard to find good staff these days isn't it.
Labels: daily, sick, teenagers
Saturday, December 16, 2006
'Stand up if you're not sitting down.'
Not drunk blogging, just one of the classic lines Ali's related from the school camp she went on this week. The permanent teachers at this camp had a few good tricks up their sleeves to combine discipline and fun. She's hardly stopped talking about it since she got back about 3.00 yesterday afternoon. $165 well spent, I'd say.
We got up at 5.00 this morning to go for the community bike ride - this time with the girls (considering that we have to start doing some training for the Big Ride.) Weather was dubious looking.. cloudy, windy. I wasn't keen. But we went. And it started raining half way to town. And I gave him the big "I told you so" look. Oh well, we were up, we were there.. we had bike rain jackets... and it actually wasn't that bad. Rolled up to the start, to a very small turnout.
A couple of k's into it, Cait, my stoker.. my passenger... had an Attack. A full blooded DQ (Drama Queen) attack. Cold legs, wet bum, didn't want to be there. No.. didn't care about getting bacon and eggs at the cafe when we finished. She was so painful, I had to pull out after a few kms and ride back. She copped an earful all the way.. and then for the next half hour of killing time sitting in the car. That sounds dreadful, but it's not like this is some new 'thing' we've just dreamed up and decided to make her do. She was saying at the end of the Big Ride earlier this year that she wanted to do it again. And so we are. And so THIS was training.. and.. guess what, kid. It might rain on the Ride.. and you'll get wet! You'll have to push through a bit of discomfort.
Of course, being the teenage DQ that she is, she'd also ignored the advice we've given her ever since we bought them all bike nix. You don't wear undies with bike nix! Never. The seams dig in.. and guess what. If you get wet, then your cotton undies are going to soak up the water, and your bum will be wetter. But oh no.. she knows best.
I left her in the car while I met the others (after they did their ride) at the cafe, and we had bacon and eggs. The other two were fine. It didn't rain the whole time.. and despite being a bit wet, it wasn't that cold. And they got their promised big brekkie.
Gave her an ultimatum. Decide now whether she's IN for the Big Ride or not. If she's not, I'll buy a bloody road bike, and ride myself. I can't put up with the DQ act. If we're doing it, we need to do training rides, and the training rides start now. She made ME miss MY training ride today. So I was NOT HAPPY. And boy did she know it.
So we've been home a while.. and the phone rings; it's my mother. I deliberately didn't mention the bike ride. I know what she would think. But then she asked me if we went.. and I'm not a good enough liar to just say 'yeah.. we went with the kids'. I glossed over it.. 'yeah, Marc, Ali and Zoe did it, Cait had an attack and we didn't'... AND of course she says "I wouldn't want to go for a ride in the rain anyway."
[No, Mum. In my whole childhood you also never went in a swimming pool, or swam with us at the beach. You never did ANYTHING with us that pushed us out of our comfort zones or helped us challenge ourselves... AND ANYWAY... I didn't even ask for your effing opinion.]
Arrrghhhh.
Meh... so today.. disintegrated. Tired from getting up early, but not achieving what I set out to achieve when I got up early. Had a sense of urgency about getting things done, because Marc leaves tomorrow for this work trip to KL.. back Friday.. we leave Saturday morning. But we didn't seem to achieve anything much at all. Watched some good cricket?! I suppose.. I HOPE .. it will all fall into place this week.
Alternatively, I could just have a nervous breakdown and be done with it.
We got up at 5.00 this morning to go for the community bike ride - this time with the girls (considering that we have to start doing some training for the Big Ride.) Weather was dubious looking.. cloudy, windy. I wasn't keen. But we went. And it started raining half way to town. And I gave him the big "I told you so" look. Oh well, we were up, we were there.. we had bike rain jackets... and it actually wasn't that bad. Rolled up to the start, to a very small turnout.
A couple of k's into it, Cait, my stoker.. my passenger... had an Attack. A full blooded DQ (Drama Queen) attack. Cold legs, wet bum, didn't want to be there. No.. didn't care about getting bacon and eggs at the cafe when we finished. She was so painful, I had to pull out after a few kms and ride back. She copped an earful all the way.. and then for the next half hour of killing time sitting in the car. That sounds dreadful, but it's not like this is some new 'thing' we've just dreamed up and decided to make her do. She was saying at the end of the Big Ride earlier this year that she wanted to do it again. And so we are. And so THIS was training.. and.. guess what, kid. It might rain on the Ride.. and you'll get wet! You'll have to push through a bit of discomfort.
Of course, being the teenage DQ that she is, she'd also ignored the advice we've given her ever since we bought them all bike nix. You don't wear undies with bike nix! Never. The seams dig in.. and guess what. If you get wet, then your cotton undies are going to soak up the water, and your bum will be wetter. But oh no.. she knows best.
I left her in the car while I met the others (after they did their ride) at the cafe, and we had bacon and eggs. The other two were fine. It didn't rain the whole time.. and despite being a bit wet, it wasn't that cold. And they got their promised big brekkie.
Gave her an ultimatum. Decide now whether she's IN for the Big Ride or not. If she's not, I'll buy a bloody road bike, and ride myself. I can't put up with the DQ act. If we're doing it, we need to do training rides, and the training rides start now. She made ME miss MY training ride today. So I was NOT HAPPY. And boy did she know it.
So we've been home a while.. and the phone rings; it's my mother. I deliberately didn't mention the bike ride. I know what she would think. But then she asked me if we went.. and I'm not a good enough liar to just say 'yeah.. we went with the kids'. I glossed over it.. 'yeah, Marc, Ali and Zoe did it, Cait had an attack and we didn't'... AND of course she says "I wouldn't want to go for a ride in the rain anyway."
[No, Mum. In my whole childhood you also never went in a swimming pool, or swam with us at the beach. You never did ANYTHING with us that pushed us out of our comfort zones or helped us challenge ourselves... AND ANYWAY... I didn't even ask for your effing opinion.]
Arrrghhhh.
Meh... so today.. disintegrated. Tired from getting up early, but not achieving what I set out to achieve when I got up early. Had a sense of urgency about getting things done, because Marc leaves tomorrow for this work trip to KL.. back Friday.. we leave Saturday morning. But we didn't seem to achieve anything much at all. Watched some good cricket?! I suppose.. I HOPE .. it will all fall into place this week.
Alternatively, I could just have a nervous breakdown and be done with it.
Labels: aarrrgghhh, bike riding, daily, teenagers
Thursday, November 30, 2006
There's that karma thing again..
I think I got 'got'. Twice. In one day. *Ouch*
So I gloated about our lovely weather.. over at Northern Girl's place.. and at Fracas'. Jinx. Noone likes a smartypants, really. Even if they did mention Australia and I just jumped in and went all 'yoo hoo! yes, Australia!, it's lovely here this time of year, come on over'.
So we suffered. 40 degree heat here yesterday. (That's around 110 Farenheit I think.)
God it was hot. Would have traded for some snow and ice in an instant. The poor kids had Touch after school, and we had to turn up because Cait was meeting us there. Alison wasn't keen on going, and I only made her because it was a team sport. I dunked their shirts in water and they put them on wet. And the Landcruiser has kick-arse airconditioning. The Kids Touch (for Zoe) was cancelled, but they went ahead with the Junior games, just as a gusty southerly (ahead of a storm front) blew in. That was insane in itself, with wind gusts of up to 85 kph nearly blowing us off our feet (I'm using the Bureau of Meteorology stats here) but at least the temperature dropped at least 10 degrees in 5 minutes.
I also spruiked about a breakthrough I had with Her Highness over an issue two nights ago. Where I handled something right for a change and she didn't stomp off to bed yelling at me. I was all smugly 'Eureka, I've got it!' I'd made the breakthrough and so now all I had to do was just apply that strategy next time and every time and .. voilà .. instant mother-daughter harmony. Barely 12 hours later we had the arguing and stomping and threats that "You are lucky I even told you I wanted to do that, I could have just gone and done it and you wouldn't have known" over something I decided wasn't necessary or appropriate for her to do today. (In other words I said "No" to something she wanted to do.) You're right Northern Girl. "Slushy". Some days it flows like a river of chocolate. Some days it's ice and snow and blizzard conditions.
~~~~
Did I mention here we have decided to do the NSW Big Ride again next year? Yep, most people we know think that we're craaaazzzy... but before you start casting nasturtiums (*wink*), check out these guys who are riding around America and Mexico with their twin 8 year old sons on a triplet and a single bike. (Warning: if you are hooked enough to start reading their entries, they are up to #148, so you might whittle away a few hours on a vicarious adventure. Don't forget what else it was you were going to do right now!)
Anyway, back to our measly "little" Big Ride, then. Marc decided to pull out of the Touch tournament in NZ so as to spend the time doing family stuff. It may not be long before #1 is not interested in doing stuff like that with us. He is also conscious of how much time he spends away with work. I am proud of him .. it was a shit of a decision to have to make.
(Did I mention that I missed him when he worked away?)
Did I also mention that it was hot yesterday?!! Hot enough to melt! Love this entry in the Sculptures by the Sea exhibition in Sydney in early November.
(I nicked this pic, and cropped it, from Graces' Blog. I didn't think they'd mind!)
So I gloated about our lovely weather.. over at Northern Girl's place.. and at Fracas'. Jinx. Noone likes a smartypants, really. Even if they did mention Australia and I just jumped in and went all 'yoo hoo! yes, Australia!, it's lovely here this time of year, come on over'.
So we suffered. 40 degree heat here yesterday. (That's around 110 Farenheit I think.)
God it was hot. Would have traded for some snow and ice in an instant. The poor kids had Touch after school, and we had to turn up because Cait was meeting us there. Alison wasn't keen on going, and I only made her because it was a team sport. I dunked their shirts in water and they put them on wet. And the Landcruiser has kick-arse airconditioning. The Kids Touch (for Zoe) was cancelled, but they went ahead with the Junior games, just as a gusty southerly (ahead of a storm front) blew in. That was insane in itself, with wind gusts of up to 85 kph nearly blowing us off our feet (I'm using the Bureau of Meteorology stats here) but at least the temperature dropped at least 10 degrees in 5 minutes.
I also spruiked about a breakthrough I had with Her Highness over an issue two nights ago. Where I handled something right for a change and she didn't stomp off to bed yelling at me. I was all smugly 'Eureka, I've got it!' I'd made the breakthrough and so now all I had to do was just apply that strategy next time and every time and .. voilà .. instant mother-daughter harmony. Barely 12 hours later we had the arguing and stomping and threats that "You are lucky I even told you I wanted to do that, I could have just gone and done it and you wouldn't have known" over something I decided wasn't necessary or appropriate for her to do today. (In other words I said "No" to something she wanted to do.) You're right Northern Girl. "Slushy". Some days it flows like a river of chocolate. Some days it's ice and snow and blizzard conditions.
~~~~
Did I mention here we have decided to do the NSW Big Ride again next year? Yep, most people we know think that we're craaaazzzy... but before you start casting nasturtiums (*wink*), check out these guys who are riding around America and Mexico with their twin 8 year old sons on a triplet and a single bike. (Warning: if you are hooked enough to start reading their entries, they are up to #148, so you might whittle away a few hours on a vicarious adventure. Don't forget what else it was you were going to do right now!)
Anyway, back to our measly "little" Big Ride, then. Marc decided to pull out of the Touch tournament in NZ so as to spend the time doing family stuff. It may not be long before #1 is not interested in doing stuff like that with us. He is also conscious of how much time he spends away with work. I am proud of him .. it was a shit of a decision to have to make.
(Did I mention that I missed him when he worked away?)
Did I also mention that it was hot yesterday?!! Hot enough to melt! Love this entry in the Sculptures by the Sea exhibition in Sydney in early November.(I nicked this pic, and cropped it, from Graces' Blog. I didn't think they'd mind!)
Labels: bike riding, daily, doh, karma, teenagers
Monday, November 27, 2006
Doesn't take much...
... for me to be a sook. [I've realised that any non Aussie/Kiwi readers might not understand that word - so there's a dictionary link!] My throat is a bit worse than last night, and I'm coughing a bit more, and I'm a bit headachy. Nothing drastic, and I'm not crying (as the definition implies.. you can actually be a sook in many ways.. and in my case, today, it's just using it as an excuse not to get stuck in to the vacuuming...)
I was up till 1am. Ridiculous! I know, I know. I was kind of hoping Marc would come online.. or rather, come back from being 'away'. He did, at around 11.30.. then said he was having a shower. I sat here playing Freecell.. then at 12.20 I shot off a "long shower eh?". Oops.. he was talking to his colleague (they are living in an apartment.)
So I spent the next 15 minutes grumbling about how stupid it is that we live like this.. him away, me hanging about the computer hoping to catch a bit of him when I can. Every now and then I have a cranky attack about the whole thing... usually on a weekend. It didn't help that he was supposed to be home yesterday, and is delayed. The extra few days just take it over the edge for me.. psychologically. And this one will only be 2 and a half weeks in total (with 2 and a half weekends stuffed up) ... How the hell did I handle the frequent 4 week/6 week trips? (and the 3 month one back in about 2001.)
So, yes. Up till 1am. Kids also went to bed late because I let them stay up to watch the Australian Idol final. Strangely enough I slept through the alarm and radio... woke up at 7.50 (Cait needs to catch bus at 8.15.) No, of course she wasn't up. And I hadn't ironed uniforms.. doh! Did that, and I was *ahem*.. in the bathroom.. when I hear (from 2 floors up) the 'proverbial' hitting the fan. Much shouting and then stomping.. all the way up to me. Zoe has unthinkingly used up the last of the low fat milk, AND all but a dribble of the full cream milk (that Caitlin insists on having). Cait wouldn't consider using my 'no fat', and spent 10 minutes of precious time chucking a wobbly about it. I don't know what she thought would be achieved... it wasn't as if (from my position on the loo!) I was going to be able to wave my magic wand and make a carton of full cream milk appear in the next 6o seconds. I could berate Zoe for not thinking... particularly as she can cope with no-fat milk. And I berated the lot of them for blithely having Actavite and milk last night for 'dessert'... and not considering whether there would be enough left for breakfast. But it wasn't going to miraculously produce milk.
And it's probably why I have the headache on top of the scratchy throat and cough. It's all so trivial in the whole scheme of things, and pretty normal teenager behaviour, but it has the capacity to send you nuts.
I was up till 1am. Ridiculous! I know, I know. I was kind of hoping Marc would come online.. or rather, come back from being 'away'. He did, at around 11.30.. then said he was having a shower. I sat here playing Freecell.. then at 12.20 I shot off a "long shower eh?". Oops.. he was talking to his colleague (they are living in an apartment.)
So I spent the next 15 minutes grumbling about how stupid it is that we live like this.. him away, me hanging about the computer hoping to catch a bit of him when I can. Every now and then I have a cranky attack about the whole thing... usually on a weekend. It didn't help that he was supposed to be home yesterday, and is delayed. The extra few days just take it over the edge for me.. psychologically. And this one will only be 2 and a half weeks in total (with 2 and a half weekends stuffed up) ... How the hell did I handle the frequent 4 week/6 week trips? (and the 3 month one back in about 2001.)
So, yes. Up till 1am. Kids also went to bed late because I let them stay up to watch the Australian Idol final. Strangely enough I slept through the alarm and radio... woke up at 7.50 (Cait needs to catch bus at 8.15.) No, of course she wasn't up. And I hadn't ironed uniforms.. doh! Did that, and I was *ahem*.. in the bathroom.. when I hear (from 2 floors up) the 'proverbial' hitting the fan. Much shouting and then stomping.. all the way up to me. Zoe has unthinkingly used up the last of the low fat milk, AND all but a dribble of the full cream milk (that Caitlin insists on having). Cait wouldn't consider using my 'no fat', and spent 10 minutes of precious time chucking a wobbly about it. I don't know what she thought would be achieved... it wasn't as if (from my position on the loo!) I was going to be able to wave my magic wand and make a carton of full cream milk appear in the next 6o seconds. I could berate Zoe for not thinking... particularly as she can cope with no-fat milk. And I berated the lot of them for blithely having Actavite and milk last night for 'dessert'... and not considering whether there would be enough left for breakfast. But it wasn't going to miraculously produce milk.
And it's probably why I have the headache on top of the scratchy throat and cough. It's all so trivial in the whole scheme of things, and pretty normal teenager behaviour, but it has the capacity to send you nuts.
Labels: daily, missing Marc, sooking, teenagers
Sunday, November 12, 2006
It's the sleep thing...
I wonder if it's possible to turn a night owl into a morning person?
It's not actually crazy to get up with the sun. What's crazy is to only give yourself 5 hours sleep before doing so. So yesterday morning, when the alarm went off at 5 am.. (Less than a week later than doing it for the Gong Ride - what am I doing?) I did carry on a bit like a pork chop, giving Marc something to hassle me about for a while.
And I know there's plenty of people who routinely get up at that hour. That Ungodly Hour! Good for them. (Good for you!) I've just never done mornings. Happy to stay up till after midnight, without wilting. But wake me up while it's still dark, and I feel like death warmed up.
So yesterday morning I stomped round a bit as I found my bike gear... muttering melodramatically, "This is stupid. This is stupid." With actions to match, so I'm told. Pretty infantile of me. But I was getting flashbacks to the Big Ride and wondering what on earth I think I am doing talking about doing it all again next year. (Admittedly on the Big Ride, we tried to be in bed by around 9.30 - something of a novel experience for me, but easy when you've been riding a bike all day! - so I actually had more sleep in store.)
I did feel ok by the time we got to town, and on the bike. And, wow, seeing we were back around 9.00, we had the whole day to get jobs done (like a line full of washing).. with the smug knowledge that we'd very virtuously done our exercise for the day. [Mind you, the kids slothed all day, and it was only thinking that we'd had them riding 90km the previous weekend that stopped us feeling too guilty that they didn't get out and do something active...] And early morning is a very nice time of day too. Just that normally I'm happy enough knowing it's there, without having to experience it, thank you very much.
By mid-afternoon I was good for nothing, and took myself off for a nap. History-making stuff in this household, as I usually only sleep in the day if I'm sick. (Or completely stuffed.)
But we would like to do this community ride thing more often... and it is a workable 'no need for babysitters option' for Marc and me to get out for some 'together' time; the girls are still asleep for most of the time, and would usually only sloth around on the computer or watch tv on a weekend morning. With Cait now being 13, it's a doable thing to leave them at home for reasonable periods.
Sounds ideal? Except for the need to rearrange my bodyclock to get to bed at a more sensible hour. The major, major hitch in that plan is not only getting us to bed earlier. But getting the kids to bed too!
I've been reading mommy blogs where the topic of conversation is how to handle it when bub/toddler drops a day time sleep. I remember that! That time when nap time = precious "me" time, and when they get older, and don't sleep as much, you grieve for that lost time you had to be with yourself. For sanity's sake.
Funnily enough, I am now feeling a similar thing with the Teenager of the house (and the 'Tweenager') resisting bed time more and more. Wanting to go to bed later and later. (We used to think we had it made. From an early early age, Cait used to sleep in till the very civilised hour of around 8 am. Other parents were so envious. "How can we have just woken you up at 8am on a Saturday morning, you have a toddler!" Hah.. now it's coming back to bite us, as, like me, she hates getting up early.. but also hates going to bed early!.)
So when do I get my ME time? (Especially if I intend to try to get to bed earlier.) I desperately crave that time in the evening to chill out, and spend some time with myself (and Marc- when he is home -especially then, as he has a tendency to work late).. Even when I've had 6 or so hours to myself when they are at school. Sounds selfish of me doesn't it... but the idea of going to bed at the same time as the kids just doesn't seem right.
Maybe the only solution is to lose the night owl tendencies, and get me my 'me' time before they wake up. Radical. (And as I'm still proof reading and editing this post at 11.50pm.. it's not something that's going to happen overnight.)
It's not actually crazy to get up with the sun. What's crazy is to only give yourself 5 hours sleep before doing so. So yesterday morning, when the alarm went off at 5 am.. (Less than a week later than doing it for the Gong Ride - what am I doing?) I did carry on a bit like a pork chop, giving Marc something to hassle me about for a while.
And I know there's plenty of people who routinely get up at that hour. That Ungodly Hour! Good for them. (Good for you!) I've just never done mornings. Happy to stay up till after midnight, without wilting. But wake me up while it's still dark, and I feel like death warmed up.
So yesterday morning I stomped round a bit as I found my bike gear... muttering melodramatically, "This is stupid. This is stupid." With actions to match, so I'm told. Pretty infantile of me. But I was getting flashbacks to the Big Ride and wondering what on earth I think I am doing talking about doing it all again next year. (Admittedly on the Big Ride, we tried to be in bed by around 9.30 - something of a novel experience for me, but easy when you've been riding a bike all day! - so I actually had more sleep in store.)
I did feel ok by the time we got to town, and on the bike. And, wow, seeing we were back around 9.00, we had the whole day to get jobs done (like a line full of washing).. with the smug knowledge that we'd very virtuously done our exercise for the day. [Mind you, the kids slothed all day, and it was only thinking that we'd had them riding 90km the previous weekend that stopped us feeling too guilty that they didn't get out and do something active...] And early morning is a very nice time of day too. Just that normally I'm happy enough knowing it's there, without having to experience it, thank you very much.
By mid-afternoon I was good for nothing, and took myself off for a nap. History-making stuff in this household, as I usually only sleep in the day if I'm sick. (Or completely stuffed.)
But we would like to do this community ride thing more often... and it is a workable 'no need for babysitters option' for Marc and me to get out for some 'together' time; the girls are still asleep for most of the time, and would usually only sloth around on the computer or watch tv on a weekend morning. With Cait now being 13, it's a doable thing to leave them at home for reasonable periods.
Sounds ideal? Except for the need to rearrange my bodyclock to get to bed at a more sensible hour. The major, major hitch in that plan is not only getting us to bed earlier. But getting the kids to bed too!
I've been reading mommy blogs where the topic of conversation is how to handle it when bub/toddler drops a day time sleep. I remember that! That time when nap time = precious "me" time, and when they get older, and don't sleep as much, you grieve for that lost time you had to be with yourself. For sanity's sake.
Funnily enough, I am now feeling a similar thing with the Teenager of the house (and the 'Tweenager') resisting bed time more and more. Wanting to go to bed later and later. (We used to think we had it made. From an early early age, Cait used to sleep in till the very civilised hour of around 8 am. Other parents were so envious. "How can we have just woken you up at 8am on a Saturday morning, you have a toddler!" Hah.. now it's coming back to bite us, as, like me, she hates getting up early.. but also hates going to bed early!.)
So when do I get my ME time? (Especially if I intend to try to get to bed earlier.) I desperately crave that time in the evening to chill out, and spend some time with myself (and Marc- when he is home -especially then, as he has a tendency to work late).. Even when I've had 6 or so hours to myself when they are at school. Sounds selfish of me doesn't it... but the idea of going to bed at the same time as the kids just doesn't seem right.
Maybe the only solution is to lose the night owl tendencies, and get me my 'me' time before they wake up. Radical. (And as I'm still proof reading and editing this post at 11.50pm.. it's not something that's going to happen overnight.)
Labels: bike riding, daily, introspection, parenting, teenagers
Friday, October 20, 2006
Karma again.
Didn't I say someone would get sick? Probaby not exactly what I was talking about, but after a day of resolutions and yee-ha exercising, I woke up yesterday morning with a migraine-y kind of headache. [I hesitate to call it a full blown migraine as I don't suffer like real migraine sufferers do, but I get the nausea bit, which is not conducive to being at all 'with it' or capable of doing anything constructive.]
So I basically did nothing much all day. Took tablets that didnt' really work. Marc said he'd pick up what I was going to go to town for.. so I took myself off to bed. Dozed for a bit, though a storm was coming in (unusually in the middle of the day) and I was always aware of this grumbling sound, and then a short, light shower of rain while I pondered the few things I had hanging on the clothesline.)
I would feel better, then get up to do something, then feel crap again, so I'd sit back down, drink tea, and try to think myself better.. mostly to no avail.
Got Zoe to ballet after school... and when I picked her up, I made it to the local supermarket to pick up a few things.. and managed to make tuna pie for dinner. (An old recipe I used to do to death when I first moved out of home. Noone likes it that much.. but I do because of the yummy cheese biscuit base. Zoe picked out the capsicum (but then ate it when I asked her to - she tries so hard to be good!). Caitlin picked out the tuna!! and didn't eat it when I asked her to. (She doesn't try at all to be good.) Alison as always is a gem when it comes to eating. She's our eating machine. Marc's not that keen on tinned fish, but he eats what he's given at least.
And then all hell broke loose with the Diva. Some 'straw breaking the camel's back' incident (over her not putting dirty clothes in the wash), and both Marc and I cracked. Banned her from the computer, because it's her obsession with it that has pushed things over the edge.
Being the child/teenager she is (she has ADD - Attitudinal Defiance Disorder - I reckon.) she cracked back... and it was on.
Let's just say that it is as if she's read all the books about how to be a defiant little b****; and we've obviously been studying up on How to Do Everything Wrong as the Parent of a Teenager.
When you deliver "consequences".. punishment.. whatever you want to call it, you basically don't expect that she will return fire. Basically, you expect her to put up and shut up. Not this one. Hauls out the artillery, and it's retaliation time.. guns blazing. Her ammunition usually includes:
Having a reasonable discussion with her is not an option. Think the Brady Bunch style chats where Mum or Dad sit on the end of the bed and it all gets sorted out? Not that. Doesn't happen here. [It can and does with the other two, but has NEVER worked with her.... and I don't have a clue what I've done wrong or different with her....]
Marc did manage to talk for a little while this morning with her, before voices got raised again. He pointed out that both 'sides' needed to be more reasonable. That we would try to be more 'reasonable' about some things that we had cracked about, but that she had to realise the things she wasn't being 'reasonable' about.
It would have been nice if she had been more reasonable in terms of being 'involved' in her sister's birthday this morning. As I predicted, Alison went in to her to see if she wanted to be involved in getting up and giving Zoe the CD they'd talked about them giving her and got the response "No. Piss off." Nice. Later, Zoe got a terse "Happy Birthday". And that was it.
Lucky Zoe was able to ride through that sort of crap, and enjoy the limelight with the rest of the family. Our alarm went off around 7.00 but I'd sort of been awake, half expecting her to land on our bed reminding us about what day it was. All quiet.. so I started singing "Happy Birthday to you... happy birthday to youuuu"... and surprise, surprise, she was up the stairs in a flash.
Seemed happy with her pressies. A bedside light that will clamp on her bed. A big heart shaped, pink, fluffy cushion. Two (pink) bags.. one small for shopping (to fit her purse) and a slightly bigger one that she can fit STUFF in when we go on car trips, etc. A cd wallet that has a pocket for the CD walkman. A fluffy rug. And some notebooks and hair clips.
She seemed happy.
This morning I've made cupcakes and taken them up to school with candles and paper towels. (The teacher loves me because she doesn't have to cut any cake up.)
This morning I've also spent a while on quotations for home contents cover that will cover our bikes - here and away.
And I need to get up and get some stuff packed for leaving tomorrow. Still have swimming lessons this afternoon... and need to buy sausages (for BBQ birthday dinner).
Despite feeling like crap yesterday, I did manage to wash up everything after dinner. (My concession to FlyLady's polished sink mania is actually achieving the washing up of all the cooking stuff - all the time - that would be a BIG CHANGE in the right direction.)
I don't feel 100% terrific today, but there's no use complaining. Hopefully the HLEE's will fix me up after my swimming class this afternoon.
So I basically did nothing much all day. Took tablets that didnt' really work. Marc said he'd pick up what I was going to go to town for.. so I took myself off to bed. Dozed for a bit, though a storm was coming in (unusually in the middle of the day) and I was always aware of this grumbling sound, and then a short, light shower of rain while I pondered the few things I had hanging on the clothesline.)
I would feel better, then get up to do something, then feel crap again, so I'd sit back down, drink tea, and try to think myself better.. mostly to no avail.
Got Zoe to ballet after school... and when I picked her up, I made it to the local supermarket to pick up a few things.. and managed to make tuna pie for dinner. (An old recipe I used to do to death when I first moved out of home. Noone likes it that much.. but I do because of the yummy cheese biscuit base. Zoe picked out the capsicum (but then ate it when I asked her to - she tries so hard to be good!). Caitlin picked out the tuna!! and didn't eat it when I asked her to. (She doesn't try at all to be good.) Alison as always is a gem when it comes to eating. She's our eating machine. Marc's not that keen on tinned fish, but he eats what he's given at least.
And then all hell broke loose with the Diva. Some 'straw breaking the camel's back' incident (over her not putting dirty clothes in the wash), and both Marc and I cracked. Banned her from the computer, because it's her obsession with it that has pushed things over the edge.
Being the child/teenager she is (she has ADD - Attitudinal Defiance Disorder - I reckon.) she cracked back... and it was on.
Let's just say that it is as if she's read all the books about how to be a defiant little b****; and we've obviously been studying up on How to Do Everything Wrong as the Parent of a Teenager.
When you deliver "consequences".. punishment.. whatever you want to call it, you basically don't expect that she will return fire. Basically, you expect her to put up and shut up. Not this one. Hauls out the artillery, and it's retaliation time.. guns blazing. Her ammunition usually includes:
- It's not fair.
- Somebody else in the house is 'guilty' of the same thing. (Alison, Zoe, and me even - in this case, how long she deems that any of us spend on the computer.)
- PAYBACK. Last night it was "Well, I'm not going to go on the Spring Cycle then." And loads more WORDS exchanged at high volume, ad nauseum.
- An answer for everything.
Having a reasonable discussion with her is not an option. Think the Brady Bunch style chats where Mum or Dad sit on the end of the bed and it all gets sorted out? Not that. Doesn't happen here. [It can and does with the other two, but has NEVER worked with her.... and I don't have a clue what I've done wrong or different with her....]
Marc did manage to talk for a little while this morning with her, before voices got raised again. He pointed out that both 'sides' needed to be more reasonable. That we would try to be more 'reasonable' about some things that we had cracked about, but that she had to realise the things she wasn't being 'reasonable' about.
It would have been nice if she had been more reasonable in terms of being 'involved' in her sister's birthday this morning. As I predicted, Alison went in to her to see if she wanted to be involved in getting up and giving Zoe the CD they'd talked about them giving her and got the response "No. Piss off." Nice. Later, Zoe got a terse "Happy Birthday". And that was it.
Lucky Zoe was able to ride through that sort of crap, and enjoy the limelight with the rest of the family. Our alarm went off around 7.00 but I'd sort of been awake, half expecting her to land on our bed reminding us about what day it was. All quiet.. so I started singing "Happy Birthday to you... happy birthday to youuuu"... and surprise, surprise, she was up the stairs in a flash.
Seemed happy with her pressies. A bedside light that will clamp on her bed. A big heart shaped, pink, fluffy cushion. Two (pink) bags.. one small for shopping (to fit her purse) and a slightly bigger one that she can fit STUFF in when we go on car trips, etc. A cd wallet that has a pocket for the CD walkman. A fluffy rug. And some notebooks and hair clips.
She seemed happy.
This morning I've made cupcakes and taken them up to school with candles and paper towels. (The teacher loves me because she doesn't have to cut any cake up.)
This morning I've also spent a while on quotations for home contents cover that will cover our bikes - here and away.
And I need to get up and get some stuff packed for leaving tomorrow. Still have swimming lessons this afternoon... and need to buy sausages (for BBQ birthday dinner).
Despite feeling like crap yesterday, I did manage to wash up everything after dinner. (My concession to FlyLady's polished sink mania is actually achieving the washing up of all the cooking stuff - all the time - that would be a BIG CHANGE in the right direction.)
I don't feel 100% terrific today, but there's no use complaining. Hopefully the HLEE's will fix me up after my swimming class this afternoon.
Labels: birthdays, parenting, teenagers
Thursday, September 28, 2006
Fighting over food...
Just goes to show you can never sit back and pat yourself on the back for a job well done with this parenting lark. Even if we do say so ourselves, Marc and I always thought we'd done a pretty good job with bringing up our kids to eat well. In many aspects they still do us credit, but it's the eldest, now a teenager, who is causing us great angst - over eating!
As babies, and toddlers, all three were brilliant.. and would put visiting children to shame, with their ability to eat most normal things. I didn't carry on too long with the separate meals thing - they were pretty quickly indoctrinated into the mushed up, then chopped up version of the family meal. No way was I going to cook two meals in one night, thank you. God, compared to what some parents were going through, we were cruising - and put it down to a combination of good luck, and just a little bit of good management. Our 'no dessert unless you've eaten your main', and 'mealtime drink=water' rules were even frowned upon by my parents as being overtly strict, and deliberately flaunted by them while our backs were turned. How bizarre to feel criticised by the grandparents for being on the strict side, but that's how it was, and still is.
Apart from that sort of thing, though, we never got too carried away with being healthy eating nazis. Everything in moderation. Plus, being a bit slacko myself, I've always been more partial to nice fresh white bread than the grainy bread. I used to swear by whole milk as well- for the taste - until I weaned myself off it and now just about gag if I have to have whole milk in my coffee or cereal. and I force myself to eat vegetables because I know they are good for me. (I could never be a vegetarian!)
My kids have grown up slim and healthy, but a combination of general publicity about healthy eating (the fight against obesity), and my own struggle to lose a mere 10kg to bring me back to an appropriate weight for my height, has led me to be trying to guide the family's eating habits in the right direction. There is a lot you can get away with when you are young and active, but it's not a bad idea to enter adulthood with good nutrition habits.
Hah...
I did read in a magazine recently (where they were talking about children over 2 not needing whole milk anymore) that you should introduce changes when they are young, because it's very hard to change established eating habits when they are older.
My wordy me, yes. Especially when you have a feisty, bloody minded, 13 year old.
It's already bad enough that she has changed from the super-eater she was as a toddler, to a pain in the neck who has an increasing menu of vegetables that she won't eat, and will do anything she can to avoid eating them.
Her younger sisters suggest eating the ones she doesn't like first to get them out of the way. And we suggest mixing them on a fork with the stuff she does like. Nup. No way. Not on your life. Leaves them till the end, pushing them to the side of the plate, and getting her to eat them can be an excruciating battle. If you let her get away with it, she just increases her list of 'I don't like's, and basically, I'm not going to cook her special meals... but nor is she going to get away with not eating any vegetables. Not in my house.
She won't eat fish now either. Loathes it. Won't touch anything remotely fishy. Which kind of impacts on the family menu, because I have to choose between fish for the rest of us, and her either not eating a balanced meal, or scouring the fridge for leftovers (of which her siblings who don't mind fish are inclined to be jealous of.)
The vegies and fish issues are an ongoing battle... The most recent flare-ups, though, are over milk, and grainy bread.
Flatly refuses to eat anything but white bread. I have been buying the hyfibe white bread as a compromise, but am gradually trying to introduce more wholegrain bread for all of us.
HRH Princess 13 would starve rather than eat wholemeal or multigrain.
And the milk!
I've been buying no fat milk for me. Lo-fat for Marc, and whole milk for the kids. The younger two have admitted to hardly being able to taste the difference between the lo fat and the whole milk, so have been happy to oblige. They have been having glasses of milk at afternoon tea (used to be with milo, now I've been trying to find a lower carb alternative, but that's another story), so I said they were drinking far too much milk to be having all whole milk. As a compromise the other day I bought the local dairy co. equivalent of that 'smart white'.. the one in the ad where the guy goes into the shop for milk, and the shopkeeper reels off a list of all the types. "I just want milk that tastes like milk" he says, so she gives him a bottle of the Smart White. "Tastes like real milk... (then her eyes flicker down to his stomach)... and only 2% fat."
Worth a try, I think. Sick of Madam ruling the kitchen.
Younger two are fine with it. But not HRH. Flatly refuses to taste it, and the performance at breakfast time yesterday was priceless. She made herself toasted turkish bread and stomped off to school. Terrific. No calcium AND no fibre.
This morning she went off again having only eaten toast because - having missed the tiny bit of whole milk left in the fridge yesterday - she was enraged to find that Zoe had absentmindedly used that on her own cereal. (Zoe knows I get cranky when they don't finish off bottles before opening new ones!!)
I don't know if this battle is worth it.. but I'm determined to prove to her that she is just being bloody minded about it. Say goodbye to white bread, except for special, freshly baked treats. And the milk... well, lets just see if she can pass the taste test.
It's my duty as a Good Mother. :)
As babies, and toddlers, all three were brilliant.. and would put visiting children to shame, with their ability to eat most normal things. I didn't carry on too long with the separate meals thing - they were pretty quickly indoctrinated into the mushed up, then chopped up version of the family meal. No way was I going to cook two meals in one night, thank you. God, compared to what some parents were going through, we were cruising - and put it down to a combination of good luck, and just a little bit of good management. Our 'no dessert unless you've eaten your main', and 'mealtime drink=water' rules were even frowned upon by my parents as being overtly strict, and deliberately flaunted by them while our backs were turned. How bizarre to feel criticised by the grandparents for being on the strict side, but that's how it was, and still is.
Apart from that sort of thing, though, we never got too carried away with being healthy eating nazis. Everything in moderation. Plus, being a bit slacko myself, I've always been more partial to nice fresh white bread than the grainy bread. I used to swear by whole milk as well- for the taste - until I weaned myself off it and now just about gag if I have to have whole milk in my coffee or cereal. and I force myself to eat vegetables because I know they are good for me. (I could never be a vegetarian!)
My kids have grown up slim and healthy, but a combination of general publicity about healthy eating (the fight against obesity), and my own struggle to lose a mere 10kg to bring me back to an appropriate weight for my height, has led me to be trying to guide the family's eating habits in the right direction. There is a lot you can get away with when you are young and active, but it's not a bad idea to enter adulthood with good nutrition habits.
Hah...
I did read in a magazine recently (where they were talking about children over 2 not needing whole milk anymore) that you should introduce changes when they are young, because it's very hard to change established eating habits when they are older.
My wordy me, yes. Especially when you have a feisty, bloody minded, 13 year old.
It's already bad enough that she has changed from the super-eater she was as a toddler, to a pain in the neck who has an increasing menu of vegetables that she won't eat, and will do anything she can to avoid eating them.
Her younger sisters suggest eating the ones she doesn't like first to get them out of the way. And we suggest mixing them on a fork with the stuff she does like. Nup. No way. Not on your life. Leaves them till the end, pushing them to the side of the plate, and getting her to eat them can be an excruciating battle. If you let her get away with it, she just increases her list of 'I don't like's, and basically, I'm not going to cook her special meals... but nor is she going to get away with not eating any vegetables. Not in my house.
She won't eat fish now either. Loathes it. Won't touch anything remotely fishy. Which kind of impacts on the family menu, because I have to choose between fish for the rest of us, and her either not eating a balanced meal, or scouring the fridge for leftovers (of which her siblings who don't mind fish are inclined to be jealous of.)
The vegies and fish issues are an ongoing battle... The most recent flare-ups, though, are over milk, and grainy bread.
Flatly refuses to eat anything but white bread. I have been buying the hyfibe white bread as a compromise, but am gradually trying to introduce more wholegrain bread for all of us.
HRH Princess 13 would starve rather than eat wholemeal or multigrain.
And the milk!
I've been buying no fat milk for me. Lo-fat for Marc, and whole milk for the kids. The younger two have admitted to hardly being able to taste the difference between the lo fat and the whole milk, so have been happy to oblige. They have been having glasses of milk at afternoon tea (used to be with milo, now I've been trying to find a lower carb alternative, but that's another story), so I said they were drinking far too much milk to be having all whole milk. As a compromise the other day I bought the local dairy co. equivalent of that 'smart white'.. the one in the ad where the guy goes into the shop for milk, and the shopkeeper reels off a list of all the types. "I just want milk that tastes like milk" he says, so she gives him a bottle of the Smart White. "Tastes like real milk... (then her eyes flicker down to his stomach)... and only 2% fat."
Worth a try, I think. Sick of Madam ruling the kitchen.
Younger two are fine with it. But not HRH. Flatly refuses to taste it, and the performance at breakfast time yesterday was priceless. She made herself toasted turkish bread and stomped off to school. Terrific. No calcium AND no fibre.
This morning she went off again having only eaten toast because - having missed the tiny bit of whole milk left in the fridge yesterday - she was enraged to find that Zoe had absentmindedly used that on her own cereal. (Zoe knows I get cranky when they don't finish off bottles before opening new ones!!)
I don't know if this battle is worth it.. but I'm determined to prove to her that she is just being bloody minded about it. Say goodbye to white bread, except for special, freshly baked treats. And the milk... well, lets just see if she can pass the taste test.
It's my duty as a Good Mother. :)
Labels: eating, parenting, teenagers
