RenovationGirl

Super Sunday, or the Last Hurrah

I made a decision in early January to begin eating healthfully again.  I have gained weight.  I feel gross.  I look gross.  I am eating everything in my sights.  But, with Dad's stroke, I was eating on the fly constantly.  I knew it would have to wait just a week or two.  Then, the Steelers got into the playoffs.  If there's one thing we know how to do in Pittsburgh, it's throwing a football party.  So, I made a decision that I would start eating better after football season.  I didn't want to curse the Steelers, so I didn't say anything until Polamalu caught that interception in the last four minutes of the AFC Championship. At that point, I turned to my family and laid in on the line.  Superbowl Sunday would be my last hurrah with food.

I love appetizers.  Chips, dip, pepperoni rolls, M & Ms.  It's all great.  I'm not so good at eating in moderation at parties with these foods.  Give me a bowl of buffalo chicken dip and some celery or crackers, and it's over.  Potato chips with french onion dip?  Back away from the bowl please!  Add one cold beer for the perfect finish.  I know these foods are terrible, but they taste so good! 

It just didn't make sense to me to start trying to eat better when I knew a table of temptation stood before me.  I'm enjoying this last week of eating junk.  I'm cleaning out the cupboards of the chocolate and chips and cheeses.  I'm savoring each last bite of fatty goodness.  I'm determined to make some changes and go back to last summer when I was eating natural, unprocessed foods in moderation.  I felt good and I was starting to look good.

So, no matter what happens on Sunday, no matter who wins the game, it will be my last day of eating like I had the metabolism of a teenager.  Monday starts a whole new season for more.

What's That Burning Smell?

That, my bloggy friends, is the smell of my television...burning into oblivion.

Yes, our television has died.  FOUR DAYS BEFORE THE SUPERBOWL.  You know, the where the STEELERS are playing in?  We couldn't be more ticked off.  We never, and I mean never, buy those extended warranties.  However, with the newness of the LCD tv, Remodel Man thought it would be a good idea.  So, if our tv had  broken one month from now, we would be able to head to a local retailer and exchange it for a new one.  The whole process might take an hour.  Door to door and back.  But no, our luck is so much worse than that.  Nope, we're still in the manufacturer warranty time frame.  This means that we had to fax over a form today, then we will call back MONDAY to get the info on sending it back and we might just have the replacement tv by one week from Monday.  This would be 8 freaking days after the Superbowl. 

You know, I'm thinking that anyone who lives within a certain radius of the home city of each of the Superbowl teams should be given top priority with tv manufacturers. 

So, can I come over to your house to watch the game?  That is, of course, if you 'll be wearing black and gold...

Monday Revelations

Yesterday, I had this revelation.  It wasn't miraculous.  It wasn't inspired.  And it was pretty obvious.  Nonetheless, it had alluded me.  If you keep up with your laundry, you don't need nearly the volume of underwear, t-shirts and socks.  For the past week, I have been making a concerted effort to keep up with the laundry.  Usually, we have clean clothes, but they just happen to be sitting in laundry baskets, getting nice and wrinkled.  I figure better to have wrinkled, clean clothes, than dirty clothes.  So, over the past week while I have been getting caught up and keeping up with the laundry, I found that I cannot fit all of our undergarments in our drawers.  Thus, my revelation. 

And while I know this is probably enough to make you praise the Lord for sending me this revelation, it led to another revelation that to me if far more important and hopefully a bit life-changing.

Over the weekend, Remodel Man and I worked together to start digging out of this dump we call a house.  We spent a few hours on Saturday cleaning our upstairs hallway, the bedrooms, and the laundry room.  It felt so good to pile up 5 empty boxes and 6 bags of garbage at the door, waiting to be taken out.  It feels great to walk around upstairs and not have to side-step items that have a home, but can't get there themselves.  I feel a sense of peace instead of a heart filled with chaos.  It made me want to do more.  But...I still have those research papers waiting to be graded. 

And it hit me...it's not that I am entirely disillusioned with teaching (although I am partly).  It's not that I am lazy (although, I am partly).  It's that grading those papers doesn't make me happy.  I mean, yeah, every teacher hates grading papers like this, but I realized that discovering that if you keep up with laundry you don't need as many undergarments made me far happier and peaceful than does a week filled with brilliant teaching moments.  Looking forward to the next block of time where I can organize part of my house makes me downright giddy.  And I realized...wait for it...

I like being home.  I like being home.  I want to provide for my family.  To create a peaceful, organized, love-filled home.  I want to cook great meals and create fun play environments for my son.  I want to spend a little extra time at tubby time instead of rushing through to get to my work.  And therein lies the problem with this revelation.  I want to be home.  I like being home.  I want to mostly fill that traditional "mom" role, but I can't.  I have to work.  I work three jobs.  I am always stressed and this keeps me from being the mom and wife I want to be.  And so I continue to resist grading those research papers.  They need to get them back, but I hate grading them.  It makes me miserable.  I want to be playing with my son, reading a good book, baking some cookies, organizing a closet.

I'm not sure what I will do about this revelation, but I need to do something.  I need to finish out the school year where I am, but I need to evaluate what can be done for the future.  I have one more year with Builder Boy at home (well, he'll be in a half-day preschool program, five days a week) and I want it to be memorable.  I want for him to say, "Hey, mom, do you remember when we..." Instead of, "remember how you used to get so mad at me for..."  I want to, for just one year, enjoy my son fully.  Get myself healthier-both emotionally and physically.  I need to figure this out for all of us.

And so, you see, underwear can lead to amazing revelations.  Who knew?

Adoration vs. Annoyance

My sister is dating this guy.  He's not physically the image I had her with, but the qualities are there.  He's creative, likes fine things, deals with his emotions, likes sports, etc.  Another words, he's rounded and grounded.  She's not sure he's the one. Sometimes she's attracted, sometimes she's not.  She does acknowledge that he is good for her and to her.  She's being completely open with him about this, so he has started a "campaign" to win her over. 

He has already written her a song.  He's sent her flowers both at home and at work.  He sends her lovely messages throughout the day.  He He developed a campaign slogan.  And then he sent her his "platform."  She didn't share it all with me, but they talked about always being there for her, to challenge her creatively and intellectually, to be "big when she is small," and to always adore her.  !!!!  Go ahead, you romantics, take a collective sigh:  ahhhhhh.

BBM and I were discussing this the other day.  BBM suggested she missed this part of dating, if you can put aside the feelings of loneliness.  I laughed.  Okay, I practically shot my drink out of my nose.  Not because I thought she was silly.  Nope.  It's because I only had one true boyfriend who was a romantic-and he cheated on me.  You can't miss what you've never had.  However, I am totally enamored by this "campaign."  I adore you?!  I told my sister that while my husband has never said these three words, I'm sure he's thought instead, "You annoy me."  Is that close enough? 

While she's getting adored, I'm getting annoyed.  Not that things are wrong in my marriage, because they are not.  It's just hard to keep the romance alive, especially when it's never been sugary sweet.  We're worried about school decisions for Builder Boy, paying down our infertility debt, and fixing this dump up.  It weighs on the nerves and sometimes makes you a little crabby.

I'm having a hard time being objective about this guy.  A big part of me wants him to win this "election."  But I do want the decision to be hers and to be the right one for her.  However, he took the time to play with my son AND he likes cats.  (I will save my men and cats philosophy for another post.)  That scores big points in my book.  So, what do you think?  Should this guy win the election?  Or should there be a recount?  I'm giving my sister the link to my blog for the first time, so play nice in your responses. 

Exceptional Woman

I remember the first time I met her, my exceptional friend.  I, a nervous grad student embarking on her first true teaching experience, crossing the tiny parking lot of an even tinier high school.  She met me there on a hot summer day, in shorts and a t-shirt to discuss my upcoming student teaching experience.  She was to be my mentor.  She exuded a strength about her and a confidence that I admired immediately.  Yet, I felt instantly comfortable with her and felt drawn to her.

She took me under her wing, granting me freedom in her classroom, guiding me, encouraging, and challenging me.  She never made me feel incompetent (when, of course, I was...) or that she was "better than me" (and trust me, she is!).  She got excited with me for the new ideas I had, which were old hat to her.  She included me in her friendships with other faculty members when she could have pushed me aside to have some peace in her day without that pesky grad student under foot.  When I slept in accidentally, she just laughed and said, "It happens."  She did not judge.   She made me feel like the best teacher in the world at a time when I felt like the biggest fraud of the century.

She wrote a stellar recommendation letter for me, which I didn't end up needing because they hired me at her school the following semester.  Over the past ten years, she has become a dear friend.  We have discovered similarities in our lives that are freakish.  No matter what I am dealing with, she is the one who will listen, give sound advice, and cry a few tears with me. She is eloquent, intelligent, creative, talented, and is wise beyond her years.  She is to many a source of strength.

But today, it is my turn to provide the strength.  For yesterday, she buried her mother.   

So, my exceptional friend, I am here. 

Today, your parents are together again, looking down on the clan (and Lord, there are a ton of you!), proud of all of you.  The grace, wisdom, humility, intelligence, and talent evolved from the love and faith of your parents.  The laughter.  The song.  The food.  Each a stitch in what became each of you.  And while I can only imagine how hard it is to say goodbye to the woman who has loved you beyond measure, she remains with you-in each pumpkin pie you bake, or hem you sew, or song you sing.  She is in how you continue to raise your son, and in how love your husband, and in how you show compassion to a stranger.  She is the reason you are as exceptional as you are.

And as you are blessed to have had her as your mother, so, too, are we blessed to have you as a friend.

Pictures of Myself

A few days ago, while dusting the living room,(yeah, I know!!! That alone is breaking news...Renovation Girl dusted?!), I dusted some photos that we have on our end tables.  The majority of our house is a picture shrine of Builder Boy (because let's face it, he's a cutie!), but I do try to intersperse pictures of myself, Remodel Man and some close friends.  One particularly beautiful picture is of Remodel Man and me in front of a local restaurant/bed and breakfast during the fall.  The backdrop is a lush green as we stand in a bed thick with the colors of fall.  It's really a nice picture. 

Then I noticed the two of us...standing there, looking so...young.  It was probably ten years ago, but really, we look soooooooooo young.   And good.  We looked really  nice.  At the time, I was working for a major fashion retailer and I was headed to work after that picture was taken.  I looked so stylish.  My hair was colored to perfection, styled with care, makeup applied and chosen carefully, clothes classic, but stylish, and shoes to die for.  And I was so thin.  Flat stomach, only one chin, and tiny little ankles.

DUDE, where the heck did that person go????  Is it just a natural progression?  Is is motherhood?  Is it exhaustion?  Is it infertility?  I'm guessing it's all of the above.  My  metabolism has slowed.  I'm working more jobs now and have more responsibility at home than ever before.  Infertility has assisted in my weight gain, as did hypothyroidism (we won't discuss the chips and chocolate).  Motherhood has caused me to care less about my appearance than that of my child.  I can't afford to have my hair professionally colored.  When I buy clothes, they are a size boys 5 at Gym.boree and The Chil.dren's Pl.ace.  Life has changed.

For the most part, I am relatively content with my life.  It's busy, we don't have enough money, blah blah blah.  But, looking at the picture and seeing myself ten years ago made me sad for the person I was.  I need to make some adjustments-health-wise, spiritually, and culturally.  I need to lose a little bit of weight, eat better, and exercise.  I need to spend  more time with my friends.  I need to attend more cultural events.  I need to organize my life and manage my time better.  I need to get caught up on Builder Boy's scrapbook.  I need to start realizing that I am more than a mother or a teacher or a wife, but a blend of all three. 

This is a tall order.  I am not one for New Year's resolutions since I rarely keep up with them.  However, this year, I do need to make some changes. I can't make them all at once, but I do need to do a little bit.  Not sure of the plan, but something needs to happen.

Care to join me?

Here We Go!!!

On the eve of the AFC Championship game, I just wanted to say:

GO STEELERS!!!!!!  We love ya!!!

I Should Have Written This at 4 PM-formerly known as "Almost a Snow Day"

At 4 PM today, as I was busy icing a batch of pumpkin drop cookies that Builder Boy had helped me make, I was congratulating myself on being a great mom today.  It's been a long while since Builder Boy and I have had an entire day with no plans, appointments, or commitments, and since it is frigid here, I planned early in the week that we would hibernate.  I planned ahead...I thought of all the things we could do so we didn't have that, "I'm bored, now what?!" moment.  And so, we started our day being lazy and cuddling in my bed.  We came downstairs and played with knights.  We read books.  We did puzzles.  We played with the Batcave.  We baked cookies.  We talked and laughed and tickled.  For the first time in a long time, it was a perfect day without too many temperamental episodes from either of us.  He even "let" me do some work while he played independently (please take a moment to remove your jaw from the floor...).  He did watch a bit of tv, but nothing more than the experts agree is okay.  It felt so great.  I felt like one of "those moms."  I felt authentic.

And then 4 PM rolled around...it was like a switch went off.  I know logically that this is a bad time of day for preschoolers.  He gets tired.  He won't nap.  Even after a snack and some downtime, he was still freaking out at the slightest thing.  He sobbed because an emergency test thing came on during an episode of the Backyardigans.  He threw toys when I told him it was time for dinner. He pulled at his hair when I asked that he be quiet while Remodel Man talked on the phone to a client.  I thought maybe he had gotten my attention much of the day, but since I had been fixing dinner, icing his cookies, etc., he was mad he wasn't the center of my attention still.  So I got back on the floor and tried to play with him.  Only thing is, if you don't do exactly as he says, he gets mad.  He freaks out.  I've tried to tell him over and over that people don't like to play with bossy people.  Granted, he concocts the most imaginative stories you can imagine.  He knows down to the slightest detail exactly how he wants this story to play out.  However, it's boring for us.  He even tells us what to say.  Add that to the boy toys issue (I'm a girl...I have a hard time with the constant battle of good vs. evil with whatever toy is handy) and I'm bored and boring.  So I went out on a limb and tried to be original in my play and he flipped out again, this time throwing a toy at me.  All day I had been the model mom, but I had had it.  While I remained calm, I wasn't fun anymore.  It was tubby time.

The bath was fine.  Mostly fun, a lot wet, but fine.  And then when I was drying him off, he was pulling my hair to hold his balance, and banging into me, and being a bit crazy for almost bedtime.  I got crabby-like he had been with me for three hours.  As we walked out of the bathroom to head to his room, he said very seriously, "Mama, why are you so mean?"  I know, I know, kids say these things.  They're not trying to be hurtful.  I'm the adult.  Blah blah blah.  It hurt.  It hurt a lot.  I made such an effort to ignore the days worth of grading I have to do.  The work calls I needed to make.  The cleaning and dishes and laundry.  I gave up all my stress today to be the kind of mom I always want to be, but don't have the energy for.  And he slaps me with this. 

I silently walked to his room and got him ready for bed.  He knew I was upset.  He apologized again and again.  And again and again I told him that it wasn't his apology I wanted, but for him to not act these ways again and not to say hurtful things to me.  I know.  He's too little to understand.  I know all the rational crap I would tell you if you were writing this, but the fact of the matter is this-I worked my butt off today and was so darned proud of myself for being a great mom and it all went to poop.

I am constantly overwhelmed by my mom guilt.  Others can laugh about it and let it go, but it consumes me.  When Builder Boy goes to bed, I wallow over every moment lost, every opportunity abandoned, every mistake and misspoken word.  I long to go back to his baby days and start over, knowing what I know now.  (Please, let's not even start talking about infertility and how this impacts every moment with Builder Boy, too...)  I vow to speak nicer, have more patience, play more the next day.  I pray every  night that the Lord guides me to be a better mom.  A stronger woman.  A wonderful role model.  And then dawn breaks and out the window go all the promises.  Life happens.  Temper tantrums happen.  Work happens. I'm tired of it. 

And so my "almost a snow day" (because I didn't have to work anyways today...) went from lovely day to the same old nightmare.  I really should've written this at 4 PM...

It's Time, Shy Ones

Hello?  Are you there, lurkers?  It's me, Renovation Girl.  From reading other blogs, I have discovered that it's Delurking Week, so come out from the shadows and make yourself known.  I'd love to see who you are and find some new blogs.  It only takes a second...all your friends are doing it...

Happy Delurker's Week!  Looking forward to finding some new bloggie friends!

Silence Broken

Please don't expect much of this post...I just thought I ought to get a post up on the blog before people stopped checking back in.  In between making meals for my parents, helping them out, trying to find daycare for Builder Boy (my mom was my daycare), working two jobs, applying/interviewing for a third, approaching midterms with my students (that means a ton of grading for me), trying to get my decorations down, be a parent and a wife and attempt to socialize with the general population, things are a little bit busy here.  Any post I write would be boring, crabby, and negative. 

So, I'll leave you with this:  Dad is improving.  His speech is sounding great, his blood is thinned to an acceptable level, and his blood pressure is where the doctor wants it.  He is struggling with severe anxiety, but this seems reasonable after suffering two massive strokes in seven days.  So we feel blessed that things are improving, and continue to pray for his recovery. 

Thank you to those who have expressed concern and support during this very difficult time.  If you have any low fat, low carb, low sodium recipes, please send along my way.  We are struggling with what to feed my dad.

Hope all is well in your little nook of the world.