Maybe I want too much.

Maybe I’m greedy.

Maybe nothing is ever good enough for me.

Whether or not any of those things apply, I have a problem with the way Universal Class is being run. I’m currently in three classes:

There may be more in the bottle, but I can’t be sure without going and checking and sometimes I just don’t want to know something for sure, you . . . → Read More: That Time I Told You I Was Psychic]]> I’ve been nursing the same bottle of wine for days. As I write this the level is dangerously low. Two tiny little sips and it’s gone.

There may be more in the bottle, but I can’t be sure without going and checking and sometimes I just don’t want to know something for sure, you know what I mean? It’s better to let it live in that “unknown” category for a while.

Then there are things that you want to know immediately. You don’t want to wait and it’s not “just fine” if it takes a few more days to find out.

My husband’s job falls into that category right now. He’s finished training and is waiting for a job to start so he can be put on a team and get going with pretty much the rest of our lives as a family. No pressure. Except it’s more pressure than I’ve ever felt before in my life. So I’m trying to be mindful and I’m trying to be in the moment and I’m trying not to drink wine like it’s water and I just found it in an oasis after a week in a desert.

On the bright side I stopped freaking out yesterday and seriously started considering a MFA in Creative Writing program. I even talked to an amazing friend who has a spare room she’d let me use if I had to do that. It’s not really a viable option, because what am I going to do, let my kids be raised by a nanny while I’m off at a college? There are about a hundred million ways that could go horribly wrong and only about three of those things involve a consenting adult having extra-marital sex. The other hundred million minus three things that could go wrong are just run of the mill marriage-enders.

Also, I like my husband and would miss him. (Don’t tell him I said that, okay? It will totally give him unfair leverage next time we argue.) I like my kids and I would miss them. It would be difficult to be in a strange place and not know anyone (except my host family) and have a whole family of my own in a different state and it would just be so lonely I’d probably just be too sad to write and then it would be a wasted experience.

So I’m thinking maybe I should focus on workshops. I mean, it’s not like my bachelor’s degree is doing me a bit of good. Hell, it’s not like I opened the FedEx envelope it came in yet. (I haven’t.) Everyone told me to finish and that I’d feel something, but I don’t. I mean, I’m glad I just finished because now I don’t have to wonder if it would have been awesome. I can know for a fact I couldn’t care less about it and it is not a magic ticket to anything except a FedEx envelope I would have never had before.

But back to me being psychic. Because that’s actually the whole point of this post. That I’m psychic. Yep, this is happening RIGHT NOW.

The fact that I am thinking about what’s going to happen once everything settles down and feel comfortable making real decisions about my future as part of this family that involve things not out of an episode of Leave it to Beaver means that something changed. Historically, this feeling is 100% accurate. You don’t have to believe me. I always tell someone outside of my immediate family when I feel it, and that way there is a somewhat biased person that is not a total stranger because I don’t know about you but I don’t tell total strangers I’m psychic because that’s crazytown person who can tell me that I did say that before the fact.  I like to verify things. So for whatever reason I’m sure that something has been settled in terms of my husband’s job starting and it’s got me secure enough that I’m planning the next part of my life. I have spent about a year supporting my husband through his job journey to get him to this point and it doesn’t need me to make the rest happen anymore.

That’s a good feeling. A really, really good feeling. I won’t actually breathe freely until he goes to work and comes home and tells me what he did his very first day, but it’s the next best thing and the next best thing is a hell of a lot better than I’ve been getting for the last year. You can only live on hope for so long before your brain just starts eating itself because it’s starving for solid ground.

The first step to doing something beyond dishes and floors and planning homeschool curriculum for one of my daughters is registering for Mo*Con 2013. It is a writing convention from the Indiana Horror Writers that happens in Indianapolis once a year and I was lucky enough to go last year and it was wonderful and I’m excited to go back. I’m not sure why they let me come, but I’m lucky and happy I am able to because it’s an amazing group of people. I even have a story to beg people to read this year. It’s a lovely little short story that makes me happy.

I have started to write, and I have a feeling I’m not going to stop anytime soon.

Game. On.

When I give advice to people (I don’t like to, but it happens) the first thing I tell them is to get used to listening to their body. The brain will lie and tell you that you really, really need gyros. . . . → Read More: Juice Fast Day 3 (or…F this madness…)]]> I could have done it, but it would have meant ignoring my body.

When I give advice to people (I don’t like to, but it happens) the first thing I tell them is to get used to listening to their body. The brain will lie and tell you that you really, really need gyros. You really, really need some soda. The brain is a magical, sometimes cruel thing that will convince you of some horrible stuff.

Your body, on the other hand, doesn’t lie. I mean there’s that whole thing where people say you’ll think  your hungry when you’re thirsty, but since food has a bunch of water in it anyway and that whole 8 glasses of water a day is in question, you could just as easily eat some celery and get the benefit of water and food which will make your tummy happy and give you some vitamins. Why deny yourself food when there’s another option?

That’s kind of my overall point. Why throw your body into starvation mode when there is no real reason to do so? I didn’t have crazy bathroom stories before juicing for three days, I didn’t have crazy bathroom stories while juicing for three days and now that I’ve eaten I *still* don’t have crazy bathroom stories.

My conclusion is there wasn’t all that much to be detoxed. Since I eat 80% clean, I can understand why that is. I’m not shocking my system out of some fast food binge diet. I was doing just fine with my food intake. I just wanted to get the nutrients from leafy greens into my diet.

So I’ll juice daily, but it will be all green (maybe I’ll throw a pepper or tomato in there and some lemon juice) in order to make sure I’m getting those lovely leafy veg micronutrients into my system. Because really, I’m just juicing all the stuff we use in soup.

Why deny the family a lovely soup in order to drink just the veggie juice? It doesn’t really make sense to me.

So I have officially failed at juicing. Well, at juice fasting/feasting, anyway. I’m okay with it.

My next post will be on this neat new place I’ve found called Universal Class. I’m taking classes and really loving it so far.

I tried to start juicing a couple days ago, but didn’t plan well and ended up eating food the same day because I ran out of produce.That was a heck of a “Duh!” moment. I knew I needed more produce but seriously thought it would just . . . → Read More: Juice Fast Day 1 (2nd Try)]]>

Testing out juices at my friend’s house!

I tried to start juicing a couple days ago, but didn’t plan well and ended up eating food the same day because I ran out of produce.That was a heck of a “Duh!” moment. I knew I needed more produce but seriously thought it would just magically appear without having to plan or shop for it. Magical thinking for the win!Today I am pretty stocked. A couple pounds of organic baby spinach, a pound of organic kales (I swear it says kales on the package not just kale – that’s not a typo – LOL) and peppers in every color but green. Also, there are parsnips, turnips, and tomatoes in the fridge. I should be good through tomorrow night if I’m calculating correctly.

The juice I’m drinking now (my second of the day):

• 1 stalk of celery
• 1 tomato
• 6 radishes (TOO MANY! Next time only like three.)
• About 4oz. of baby spinach
• 1 large red pepper and 1/2 of a small orange pepper
• Splash of Tobasco sauce (to hide the radish flavor)

It’s good. About 12oz. I’m not sure if it’s the juice or the spice but it works to not make me hungry. My mouth still wants to eat and waters when I smell the food my kids are eating, but when I check with my body and just stay still for a moment to concentrate…my tummy is fine.

I’m not sure how long I’m going to do this. The initial goal is ten days, because it seems pretty standard. If I’m okay on day 10 I’ll bump it to 30 days.

My consumption goal is 64 oz. a day at a minimum, but no more than 120 oz. a day. Also, you won’t find any apple/carrot/ginger juice on my menus, because apples and carrots have so much sugar I can’t imagine it would be good for me in any long-term sense. I’ll add carrots, but only in leiu of peppers, because wet, sweet additions to each juice are a good thing…just not to the exclusion of everything else.

One change I’m making is that I’m not cutting coffee entirely out of my diet. One cup in the morning (black, the way I usually drink it) is going to stay on the roster. Also, a glass of wine might see its way into me at some point as well. Nothing will kill my resolve like being strict with myself. Allowing the leeway will let it be a daily choice instead of feeling forced all the time to not have this or that.

So this is it. I’m doing it. Juice fasting.

Worse? I’m really looking forward to it.

That’s right, I got sunburned on a cold day in Michigan. It’s a talent. It also happened because I spent a good deal of the day hanging out in the sun on the back porch feeling warm and watching the kids . . . → Read More: Easter Holiday Recap (Mamavation Style)]]> I think the most important part of Easter for me was the sunburn.

That’s right, I got sunburned on a cold day in Michigan. It’s a talent. It also happened because I spent a good deal of the day hanging out in the sun on the back porch feeling warm and watching the kids play. It felt great in my heart and on my body.

I was feeling a little dizzy later in the day and my cousin said it was probably because I was eating differently than usual since I stay mainly paleo. She mentioned the carb-fest that is the holiday party food buffet and it dawned on me that I hadn’t eaten any of that. Well, that’s not entirely true, I had two pieces of fried chicken and veggies a plenty – so carbs were had. But other than that it was ham and some sausage and sauerkraut (I love that Randy’s family is polish. Sausage and sauerkraut is really, really good stuff.) Oh, cabbage has carbs, doesn’t it? There you go. That was my Easter feast.

We figured out later I was actually just really hungry. Luckily we had leftover veggies in the trunk and when we stopped at Starbucks on the way home (A tradition!) he got an extra cup and filled it with veggies and I was happy, munching all the way home.

My hopes are high that I have finally passed into the land of only eating when I’m hungry. That or I’m in the beginning stages of an eating disorder. Probably the hungry eating thing. Let’s hope.

My exercise for Easter weekend consisted of walking all over hell’s half-acre at the Lake County Fairgrounds with the kids for an egg hunt, face panting, and bouncy-house fun. Pictures with Elmo, Belle, and Tinkerbell and then shopping for Easter until about 11pm with my friend to make sure everything was just right for Easter morning.

That’s the main reason why I was looking forward to just relaxing on the back porch during the family Easter celebration. I did. It was good. I managed to talk to almost everyone (there were 23 people *faint*) and we stayed to put away extra tables and chairs.

It was a great day for us and for the kids, which is such a win.

He graduates from training tomorrow.

He may or may not have interviews tomorrow and the teachers at the training facility tell the group that they should all be working by no later than the second week of April.

All this sounds vague . . . → Read More: The Waiting is the Hardest Part]]> As you know, I’ve been talking about my husband being in training.

He graduates from training tomorrow.

He may or may not have interviews tomorrow and the teachers at the training facility tell the group that they should all be working by no later than the second week of April.

All this sounds vague and scary to me. I want assurances, promises, definite things written in writing. It’s just the way I am. I like things to be super-clear so I can put it in the place in my head where constant worrying doesn’t take place. Let’s call it the spa in my mind. Except it probably doesn’t have cool nudity, water, or a sauna, because renovations haven’t been done on that part of my brain in a very long time. I’m hoping we can expand that area and move some currently worrysome clients to that part of my mind in a short period of time. For their own good as well as my sanity.

Of course, I don’t feel comfortable sharing more because until this is a done deal, I don’t want to jinx it. I’m feeling very superstitious and there are a few people that know what’s going on but many more that don’t know and I don’t want to put a psychic target on his back. (I told you I was getting superstitious, you have no idea how true that is.)

So tomorrow is it. Awards are given out, graduation occurs, and he – presumably – then has interviews and chooses a job and starts working.

Until that happens I’ll be over here with a drink in one hand and my anxiety meds in the other. Because I can’t cope right now and really don’t have a lot of people I can whine to because who do you whine to when your husband has a great opportunity about to happen but you have to somehow get through the last few days before that great opportunity actually starts?

Gak.

This morning, just to keep the kids entertained I gave them color-in worksheets from Super Mom Moments and they really had fun coloring them in. They had to color the verbs, nouns, and adjectives different colors. Is . . . → Read More: How Do I Determine Reading Placement for My Daughter? (also, kid anxiety is sad)]]> It’s an old far side joke, I know, it’s cheesy and silly and right now feels accurate.

This morning, just to keep the kids entertained I gave them color-in worksheets from Super Mom Moments and they really had fun coloring them in. They had to color the verbs, nouns, and adjectives different colors. Is that homeschooling, or is that fun?

I guess it’s both but I’m still so unsure.

My biggest problem has been going overboard when I do things. In my mind, I just want everything to be “right” … you know, the way it should be. In reality, I fear that I might push my kids too hard and try to teach them too much.

I mean, I have no training in this.

For example, I am trying to find a starting point for my 2nd grader (S) and don’t know how to measure that. The closest reading placement I found was at the National Right to Read Foundation. Is that a legitimate site? I’m not sure. I gave her the reading competency test and it basically told me she was reading at a high school level. Is that true? I don’t know what a high school reading level is, not really. I know the things my great-grandmother used to say about the newspaper being written at a fifth-grade level so it was more accessable, but then the website said that 100 years ago the 6th grade level was equivilent to high school level today. All that to say: I have no idea where to start her reading education based on that placement test.

It’s all very, very confusing.

Also, it seems my 1st grader (A) – who has been doing just fine and is really enjoying her experience at public school – is getting jealous that her sister is going to have me for her teacher and learn (as she puts it) “more stuff” than she is.

So homeschooling of both children will begin in earnest this summer. I’m going to try and let A finish the year because she loves her teacher and hasn’t had any of the problems S was having at school. I’d like her to finish.

This is not what I pictured for my kids.

I was always the it will be a cold day in hell before I homeschool my kids mom. I’m not super-excited about it. I have almost every book from the library and can’t stop researching everything online because I don’t want to break my kids or make them into mutants that can’t have a conversation or, worse, can only talk about Ray Bradbury and dice games. Don’t get me wrong, I’m fine with those being part of the conversation toolkit, I like those things, but I want them to be able to talk about other things too. I’d like them to have a range of things to talk about so they can communicate effectively with a range of people.

Of course, school was never going to give them that in the first place, so I’m not sure if it even fits with this whole train of thought. Well, I guess it fits in the sense of finding out new things from other kids. They won’t have that except through me and while I am into current pop culture more than anyone I know, I’m still not up on trends like a 2nd grader. Or a 6th grader. So how do I help my kids talk with other kids? I’ll probably just end up spending time on the Disney Channel website or something. Not that they’re into those shows now, they’re not. So maybe that was never meant to be in the first place.

Maybe I’m borrowing trouble and S will want to go back next year. Maybe she will be done with mom-as-teacher and want to try again to go the public school route. Or, maybe by September we will have an option C and she can go to a private school I was looking into a few months ago. It’s possible. I just don’t know where we will be then financially. Private school is expensive and I’m still not sure I can’t do it better myself.

In the meantime, I’m going to take it one day at a time, one worksheet at a time, one story at a time.

Oh, one thing I wanted to tell you. This morning when I had them do the coloring worksheets, S brought hers to me when she was done and immediately apologized because once she had finished the perfectly colored pieces of the heart she also drew around the heart and on the back of the paper. She sounded really stressed when she apologized and told me she “forgot she shouldn’t do that.” I looked at her – shocked – and said, “Babe, this is just for fun. You got all the answers right. I don’t mind if you color the rest of the paper however you want.”

She was visibly relieved. Like, her little shoulders fell two inches. They must have been crazy-tense. Poor thing.

What are they doing to her at that school that she’s got anxiety on spring break doing a silly worksheet for fun?

Moments like that are why I’m doing what I’m doing. I’m not a great mother, I’m not a martyr, I’m not doing something great and noble, I’m just trying to keep my kid from being so stressed she can’t chill out and color in a heart.

What do you think is the best way to determine the reading level of a child? (I’m just looking for brainstorming ideas, no need to cite a source or be a homeschooler for this. Y’all are smart. I want to hear what you think!)

She is not special needs (except being in the gifted math program at school – if that even qualifies) and she does not have a disability. She does . . . → Read More: Do I want to Homeschool in Illinois? Where do I Start?]]> After various incidents in the school I am thinking that my lovely 2nd grader is not getting the attention, help, or support she needs in school.

She is not special needs (except being in the gifted math program at school – if that even qualifies) and she does not have a disability. She does not stick out like a sore thumb and she is not loud or rambunctious.

Doesn’t it sound like she would be a perfect candidate for a public school? I thought so, too.

But she’s really not. She is getting in trouble for things she learns on the bus, for example. “That’s why I’m not friends with mean black girls like you.” is what I heard from the vice-principal of her school today. Sure, she was being teased by multiple children but her remark brought it all down on her head. I’m fine with that. In the real world, if you go too far it doesn’t matter why – you went too damn far. Also, like I told the (very kind, knowledgeable, and intelligent) vice principal, there is NOTHING that has EVER happened in my home that would cause that statement to come out of my daughter’s mouth. Ever. Not once. It’s not part of who any of us are here.

Trust me, I’ve tried to figure this out. There was an incident earlier this year when I remarked that a black man on the television was handsome and she replied, “I would never date a black boy.”

My grandmother hated redheads. I do not know why. No one in the family shared her aversion but we all tried not to be around her when Conan came on because she would yell at the television. (This was before she had dementia, mind you. It was rough.)

My daughter is an emotional creature. She would cry for days if someone was moving or was sad when she was in Kindergarden. In first grade she got a little better, but the crying still happened. Now, in second grade, I see the tears she’s been holding all day come out when she gets off the bus in the afternoon.

They are tears of anger. Anger at not being allowed to fight back. Anger at being taunted for being called “baby” and “slow” that she is not allowed to make stop because the teacher says she does not like tattle-tales. Anger she cannot resolve because she is not allowed to raise her hand when they are in line. Anger at being small and ineffectual and unable to fight back in a meaningful, appropriate way.

It’s breaking my heart.

My first choice would be to get her off the bus where most of this takes place, but we have one car until we can afford another car. That will be a few months in the future at the very best. I may be able to drive my husband to work and then drive the children to work, but I won’t know if that is an option for a few more weeks.

Even if I can drive her to school, what about her anger? What about her inability to get help from a grownup?

I understand as an adult that her problems are small. Miniscule, really. But I also remember how big things felt when I was her age and feel that by leaving her there I am forcing her to be pressed down into a mold she just doesn’t fit into properly. She does not feel good about going to school but is excited about homework while at home. She is attentive and loves to learn.

I fear that leaving her in this situation is keeping her from learning because emotionally she is focused on other things.

She loves her gifted math class, called challenge math, and is excelling at math a grade level above her own while still completing her second grade math during normal math times and through her normal math homework.

I really think I could swing this homeschooling thing.

It would take sacrifice on my part, but isn’t that what parenting is about? Doing what’s best for your child even if it inconveniences you? Isn’t it my duty as a parent to make sure she is set up for academic success? What good is socializing in a public school atmosphere when she is learning black from white and that she is a slow baby and a crybaby? These are not things she should be learning if I want her to grow into a strong woman. These are things that make her believe she is less than and different in a bad way.

Maybe I could do better.

I think it’s time to seriously consider homeschooling as a valid option for my daughter’s education. My middle daughter seems to be thriving in the school environment, so I’d only be doing this with the oldest unless I needed to change that up for some reason.

Do you know anyone who has one homeschooled child and one that attends a local public school? How’s that working out for you/them?

What do you think?

Earlier, I had sprayed like eleventhousandmillion ants to death with my (super okay to use around pets and kids) vinegar and lemon degreaser and cleaner.

Quick sidenote: I have not written a post . . . → Read More: Acid Trips for those who have Never Done Drugs]]> I’m walking around my living room. Wait, no, I’m not. I’m vacuuming and pushing the stupid vacuum around the living room.

Earlier, I had sprayed like eleventhousandmillion ants to death with my (super okay to use around pets and kids) vinegar and lemon degreaser and cleaner.

Quick sidenote: I have not written a post on my homemade vinegar and lemon cleaner. I don’t know why. Here’s a quick rundown.

1. Put lemon peels in jar.
2. Pour vinegar on it.
3. Leave it alone for a couple weeks. Or shake it once in a while if you remember. Whatever. It’s not your new bff, it doesn’t need to hear from you on the regular.
4. Cut it in half with water in a rinsed out spray bottle or some other kind of non-Ball-jar dispenser and use it everywhere.

This is what my stove looked like after using it. I’m lazy and I hate cleaning and for some reason I hate my stove (probably because it’s scratched in back and I think it’s doing that just to make me angry because we never use that burner so WTF, stove?) so I used almost zero elbow grease. It doesn’t deserve my effort. Or love.

But even with our dysfunctional relationship, my stove looked like this. I would have never guessed. It also kills ants.

So I was vacuuming up dead ants after I’d sprayed them all and their little dead carcases were lying on the floor waiting for me to do something with them and I guess in the process of vacuuming one semi-live ant went rogue because ten minutes later I’m sitting down pondering the universe and not wanting to wrap the cord up behind the vacuum because I hate it and it dawns on me that I have a hair tickling my chest.

Not the sexy times part of my chest, the “where my collarbone would be but it’s covered by a layer of fat” part. I go to wipe away the hair and TADUM! there’s an ant, so I kill it by spreading it all the hell over my body (could have been sexy, almost, under non-insect circumstances) and then I jump up and down because that will totally help and I sit back down and grumble and complain at the back of the vacuum as I wrap the cord back up.

That’s when I’m sure I feel another ant on my chest. I go to wipe it away and there wasn’t one.

Then I was pretty much completely overtaken by the feeling of freaking bugs all over my body and I was totally skeeved out and it was gross and traumatic and I knew it wasn’t real but that didn’t help and then I realized this is what my one friend described to me as her acid flashback and then I was REALLY mad because I’ve never done acid and now I’m getting the bad after effects without any of the “don’t look in the mirror or your face will melt and you will be forever traumatized” fun stuff.

So f acid and f flashbacks and f ants.

I’m collecting our used coffee grounds and my husband is going to sprinkle them around the house. He says it’s scientific or whatever but I’m ready to throw every organic bone in my body out the window and buy some damn bug spray. So my grandkids will look like three-eyed fish from the Simpsons..we’ll call it an evolutionary jump and all be super thrilled at making the new super-species. Right?

I hate ants.