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Archive for the ‘This and That’ Category

Perspective

A Facebook friend of mine, who is always extremely positive, posted this morning,”Good things are going to happen to you today!’

As I “liked” her post with genuine hope in my heart that she would be right, it dawned on me that being positive is very powerful.

My days are filled with what seems like a hundred and one mundane tasks. They sneakily eat away at the seemingly plentiful hours we are afforded every day.

Speech therapy, the supermarket, trips to pick up this, and drop off that. Squeezing in time with the adaptive P.E. teacher, the regular school teacher, and driving the after school carpool. Doing laundry, cleaning bathrooms, making sure the people that live with me don’t starve to death, and trying to crank out orders for my teeny home accessories business.

When Oscar asks me, “What did you do today?” I usually answer, “Not much,” but it is much. It really is. It’s a lot of little things that equal the successful running our home.

Just like what YOU do every day. It is important. We are important.

I have to say, lots of good things happened to me today, but nothing is ever as good as knowing you are loved, and appreciated.

You are! Really….and you deserve a cupcake, a really big one.

XOXO,

Vanessa

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Just picture me standing at the edge of a vast canyon calling out to you.

Hey! Here I am…and there you are…maybe.

There have been many times over the last few months I’ve wanted to sit down and blog.

Funny stories, embarrassing anecdotes, a recipe or two. Too many times to count, but I never seemed to find my way to the computer. I’ve missed it though, really.

Sabrina is almost a teenager, only a few few more months of being twelve. Chloe will be nine soon, which seems insane. I was just on maternity leave, wasn’t I? Lamenting my hugely pregnant state, and counting the days until my baby girl would enter the world. Then POOF!  Thirteen years gone, as though someone has his finger on the fast forward button. I feel old, and it sucks. That’s the way it goes though. Time passes no matter what. I can hang on tightly, squeezing my eyes shut, hoping it will slow down, or simply relax and embrace it. Hopeful that I will be able to remember, well everything.

For now, I choose the latter. Image

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Sometimes I feel really overwhelmed with the enormity of tasks I perform throughout the day. The thing is, when Oscar gets home from work, and asks, “What did you do today?” I find myself replying the same way, “Oh, not too much.”

Whaaat? Only this morning I was desperate for a “mental health” day, and seriously considered spending the entire morning and afternoon watching “House Hunters.”

The problem is my  daily “To-do” list consists of the following items (give or take a few) each day:

1) Finish Laundry ~ The chore that never ends. And I mean never. There is nothing I despise more than doing the laundry. Yuck and yuck.

2) Collect the trash ~ Pretty boring, but one of the grodiest jobs on the list.

3) Vacuum rug ~ It’s wool and though I love it, at the rate it sheds, I could collect the wool, and have a pair of new socks every couple of weeks.

4) Sweep floor ~ See number three. Also, I have long dark hair , and both my daughters do as well. Let’s just say, if I don’t sweep on a regular basis, my house could easily be mistaken for a barber shop.

5) Vacuum up hair in the bathrooms ~ See number four…one word H-A-I-R. Another word…G-R-O-S-S.

6) Wash the dishes  ~ these are usually left over from dinner the previous evening. What can I say? I also hate doing the dishes.

I can continue, but any other task I add to the list, would be equally mundane. What I don’t put on my list, but I should, is stuff like, take a shower, pick up Sabrina from school, make dinner, make sure I’m on schedule with Chloe’s feedings, and breathing treatments, and anything thing else she may need. Which today included a game of Monopoly Junior, I really didn’t want to play. A game that I lost, because I stink at Monopoly, and Chloe is a “take no prisoners” kind of player. She also informed me before we started playing, that she was going to “beat the pants off me.” Mission Accomplished.

I guess, even the mundane is something though, so when Oscar asks me tonight, “What did you do today?” I’ll refer him to this post.

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Most people with children have funny anecdotes to share about things their kids have said or done, and as a mother of two interesting little girls, I’m also guilty as charged in that respect.

The thing is, I’m a terrible storyteller, so usually the good part of  whatever anecdote I happen to be relating,  is lost in translation, creating one of those “I guess you had to be there” moments.

Chloe, my youngest daughter, can be classified as a “special needs” kid. I’ve always thought of that term as generic, but for all intents and purposes, the “special needs” label is easier than explaining her exact condition. Her “special needs” have caused her to be delayed in various areas of development, namely speech, but over the last year and half, she has really blossomed, and her speech has improved significantly.

Which brings me back to my lame storytelling skills. Chloe is really funny. As she’s learned to speak, she’s added tons of words to her vocabulary.  English is a tricky language to learn, and mastery of it, well, let’s be honest, there aren’t too many of us who can claim to be true”masters.” Chloe has a pretty decent vocabulary, and she’s able to pick up new words fairly quickly. She mostly uses them in their correct context too…mostly, but sometimes, I catch her saying things that are worthy of a chuckle or two.

A few of my favorite Chloe-isms:

1. “We have naaa to do.” ~ Translation: We have nothing to do.  Okay, that one’s pretty tame, and really uh, I guess you had to be there, but since she first started saying it, she learned how to say the word “nothing” which made me kinda sad, so I still ask her to say “naaa” instead. She does not comply with my request. I’m a kook, I know.

2. “That’s my peep-hole.” ~ Probably no translation needed there, but let me explain. Chloe, though she is eight, wears diapers, again refer back to the “special needs” thing. So, I change her when she has pee-pee or number two. When I change her diaper, I need to well, wipe her private areas. She calls her pee-pee, her “peep-hole” which I find really amusing.

3. “Don’t talk ’bout it.” ~ I’m home all day with her, so I relish when Oscar gets home from work for adult talk. I’m a fan of re-telling Chloe antics that have happened during the day. She hates that, so as soon as she hears me start to talk about her, she busts out “Don’t talk ’bout it.” I still do though, I know, I’m mean.

It seems like there are so many more things Chloe says that I can classify as Chloe-isms, but of course I can’t think of any more. My memory is crap most of the time.

I promised Oscar, I’d clean out the hall bathroom because he’s going to demo it tomorrow.

Hallelujah. A small bathroom makeover is in my future, which is enough to make me say “yay!” any day of the week.

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Perspective

I’m a pretty upbeat person, and try to live by the philosophy that positive energy begets positive energy, and being negative serves no purpose. My little family has faced many challenges over the past seven years, but we have also received many blessings. Not so much those that are tangible in nature, but intangible. Love, understanding and support, lots of it. Sometimes, though, I get to feeling like a giant loser. I can’t help it, it just happens. 

I look at my husband, and see how hard he works, his painfully long commute, the amount of hours he puts in, all to keep our little family going.  Sometimes we struggle. Sometimes we’re okay, and so it goes, ebb and flow. I wish I could contribute more, wish I could do more, and it gets to me. I can’t help feeling this way, I just do.

I am mostly surrounded by good people. Hardworking, deserving, honest people. There are some though, that are not deserving. They are dishonest. They are thieves and liars, yet they constantly succeed, receiving accolades and kudos, that they do not deserve. People that are too selfish to comprehend the eventual consequences of their deceitful actions. This is merely my observation, my opinion, and I am entitled to it. 

I look at “them” and I look at “us” and I think to myself, ” Why does Life have to be so so unfair. Why do these dishonest people not get what they truly deserve? ”  What I have failed to realize one too many times, is that dishonest people, are just that, dishonest, without honor.  They have been this way for so long, that the line between what is true and what is false, is blurred. It is no longer evident, and these falsehoods become their new reality.  It is after finally recognizing this truth, that I have gained perspective.

Perspective can be defined in several ways, one of which is “the ability to perceive things in their actual interrelations or comparative importance.”  That has been my problem all along. My emotions have not allowed me to perceive things in their “actual interrelations.” I have beat myself up for things over which I have no control, failing to realize that I am in control of something critical,  my own destiny. Mine, my husband’s, our girls’, Ours. We are not bound by obligation or guilt, but by each other.  We are committed to the success of our family, and though it can sometimes feel like we’re falling, it is our duty to not be discouraged, and to embrace perspective with open arms.

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I’ve never been a fan of bandages, since needing one means I’ve been injured in some way. Obviously, bandages serve their purpose. I mean, if I’m bleeding, the band-aid jar is the first place I’m headed.

My six year old daughter, Chloe, LOVES bandages. I am not exaggerating, even a teeny bit, when I say she loves them. She loves them so much, that if I should even attempt to put away, any of the myriad of band-aid boxes she calls her own, I do so, at my own peril.

I have no idea why she loves bandages so much. It may have something to do with the fact that I use them as bribery. Chloe is a trooper. She has lots of  special medical needs, one of which involves a monthly date with me, her, and a needle. She takes it like a champ, and the one thing that makes our “date” more bearable is the promise of a Dora band-aid, when it’s all over.

A box of band-aids is relatively inexpensive. Okay, they are really cheap. If that’s what it takes to keep a wily six year old entertained as I attempt to do my weekly shopping, while simultaneously  pushing a wheelchair, and a shopping cart, then so be it.

The curious part about Chloe’s band-aid addiction is that she does not enjoy sticking them on herself. She will gladly stick one or two or five bandages on you, if you let her. She sticks them on her computer, she sticks them on her toys, her sister, even on the band-aid box itself. You may think, it’s just wasteful to let a six year old use bandages in this manner. You might say, “‘Why don’t you just give her some stickers?” Believe me, I’ve tried. She does not like stickers…at all. Bandages, well….Chloe and band-aids are MFEO….you know “Made for each other.”

It does not bother me. I think it’s pretty cute, actually.  A small exception, might be when I have twelve bandages on my right arm, and am trying to wash the dishes, then I no likey.

Chloe’s favorite and most faithful bandage wearer is Abby. Abby is small, cooperative, and most importantly, inanimate.  She does not talk back, or complain one bit, about being consistently chosen as Chloe’s band-aid model. She is perfect…and is a doll…literally.

Better her than me.

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This is my last daffodil picture…promise.

I took this yesterday. Crazy! They are so pretty, riotous even. This is the day after I put them in water.

I am easy to please.

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