The Trip That Launched a Thousand Dreams

Last week, my husband and I woke our kids at six a.m. and took them to Florida.

We visited LegoLand and Walt Disney World.

We explored. We discovered. We ate.

We had meltdowns. We had timeouts. We had frustrations.

We laughed. We encouraged each other. And we celebrated our family.

It was the most amazing week we have had as a family, ever. You see, we've struggled. We have struggled with money and time and opportunity. After 13 years of marriage, lost jobs, relocations, two beautiful baby boys, a husband in college for a total career change, we finally had the opportunity.

And it was the best opportunity.

This trip has made me realize how important vacations are to one's well-being. This was the very first vacation (other than camping) that we have gone on as a family. Hotel life and eating out every meal is so rewarding. It rejuvenated me.

But now, I want more. The boys want more. Tom wants more, minus the airplane. He is much more relaxed in a car.

I have a thousand ideas of where to vacation next. It's important for us as individuals and as a family. It creates memories and ties us together.

Those thousand dreams start now.

Beautiful Day for the Playground

Big Boy is going through a construction vehicle stage. He wants to build buildings when he grows up. Specifically to build a tall tower that, when people get to the top, will crumble.

We are working on cause and effect.

Their elementary school has some cool diggers that are "perfect practice" for his future career.

The best part, clear view from the parking lot. Yes, I'm that mom that I didn't understand five years ago. "What mom takes her kids to the playground, but sits in her car?" Well my friends, I am her.

Needless to say, you can see by the snow, that it's cold out there, even for Buffalo standards. The boys lasted nearly an hour.

Best hour I've spent at the playground in a long time.

If I see you at the playground with your kids, I'll honk a "Hello".

ABC and Part of D

Link to Pattern and Supplies

To rid myself of the 'lost puppy' feeling since completing the blanket, I found this sample in my UFO bin.

It's been at least a year since I began this. A and B were fun, then life took over.

Last night, I started C.

Then I finished C.

And started D. The wool thread on my needle ran out and I couldn't focus my eyes enough to thread more on. This was after 1:30 AM. I might need magnify glasses for this needle. Or a needle threader. I must have one somewhere in this house.

The sampler is from Alicia Paulson from Posie Gets Cozy. It's adorable and well worth purchasing the whole kit (if she has any left). Alicia creates beautiful designs and uses the most exquisite materials. After seeing first hand the quality, I will always buy the kit from her.

D is calling my name...

Mom Bucks...Carrie Style

Oh yeah!  Trying something new.

Here's my problem.  My kids don't value money like I wish they would.  They don't really save, they often spend on stupid toys or general junk.

I want that to change.

They also misbehave often (I know, here I go being honest, the rarity of parenting blogs). 

I want them to behave like little (quiet) gentlemen.

The boys love turtles, so that was a given.  And since I'll probably not ever get my mug on a buck, I indulged.

Want to see a closeup?



 

Cute, right?

 

Back to the Bucks.  The boys can earn the bucks by doing good things around the house.  I started them off with $5 each for shoveling the driveway and sidewalk.  They did a great job and I watched from inside.  Well worth the $10.

 

They can earn the 25 cent ones for a great morning routine (only asking once to eat, dress, brush, etc.). 

 

The bucks can also be taken away.  Taking a Mom Buck is easier than taking a child's real legal tender - something just seems wrong with that.  Little Man got a 25 cent one taken away tonight.

 

In order for them to learn how to save, I've offered a double your money scheme.  When they get a Mom Buck, I date it.  If they have saved it for a month or two or three (haven't really decided yet), then I will double that money.  Bucks can only be doubled once.

 

I'm hoping they learn kindness, value of money and saving, and continue to do household chores on a more routine basis.

 

Mom Bucks are good for when Mom only has plastic in her wallet and for purchasing items on line (where they are often cheaper).

 

I'll circle back with you when I'm broke and my kids are rich to let you know how it worked (or didn't).

 

 

Dos Babettes

Today, I finished the border on Little Man's Babette Blanket.

This is my favorite blanket patter ever!  It's fun, interesting and surprising.

It's also 'chair confining'.  This isn't a blanket you can take with you.  There are so many different colors and you rarely use the same color in more than two rounds, usually just one round.  I had three bags of yarn, so traveling with this wasn't an option.  I didn't even change seats in the house.  I tucked my yarn bags next to one chair and that's where I've been hooking.  And hooking.  And watching TV on my iPad (Shameless, House of Lies, Girls, Homeland..so good).



Little Man's Babette

I finished at about noon today.  Three times since, I've looked at the chair and wanted to get back to the yarn.

Both Babette's Together

My next task is getting into my luxury basement studio.  I have to dig a path into it first.  In the Christmas rush, it got icky.  Boxes and balls of yarn and garbage and receipts and just stuff all over the place.  There is even a double sink, faucet, crystal chandelier and air hockey table in there.  No wonder I can barely move in there!

Once I get into the studio, I have to run some yarn through the knitting machine.  I have a couple purses I need to get moving on...I've been very delinquent.  Note to anyone that asks for a custom bag, give me a deadline.  I don't do well with "When you have a chance".  I need to work on that.

If I'm lost, look in the basement, until then, thanks for reading!



A Moment Like This

After all the drama of the days before.

Many meltdowns.

Double defiance.

There are times like this when I look at this boy and my heart melts.

He is doing what he loves. He is happy.

He didn't wear a hat today because he wanted messy hair.

My heart is melting for this boy. I love him so.

No Wire Hangers

I dropped the F bomb tonight.

Bad Mommy.

I couldn't take it anymore. He pushed and pushed and didn't do a simple every day task.

I gave them both some extra time to play because the homework was done quickly, correctly and with only one prompt, success in my book.

But, after they played and goofed around, "shower time" came. And was stalled, "just one more minute"; "almost done"; "it's his turn to go first"; "wait, mom, one more...". This went on for 30 minutes. Big Boy got upstairs and it was 20 minutes when it happened.

"Get in the fucking shower."

As bad as it sounds, it worked. It wasn't the first or twentieth time he heard the word and it won't be the last. I rarely swear in front of the boys, but there are times when being nice and gentle just don't work.

He got in the shower. He cried. And came out with a smile. I apologized, explained myself, and told him I loved him, no matter what.

Then I had a glass of wine.

Am I alone?

The Scanner

When I was a young girl, I remember being at my Grandma's house and hearing the low hum of static.

My Grandmother, Joyce, had her fire and police scanner radio on all the time. I wonder what happened to that black and silver box that always confused me. I didn't understand (at that time) how she could sit and listen to that radio and do crossword puzzles all day.

Joyce was never shy to whip open her front curtain to see what was going on in the world. Again, what was so interesting outside, just cars and people walking by. At my age, there were so many more important things to do, like play with my Cabbage Patch kid or play with Grandmas's coasters that were old rug samples (boy, do I miss those).

And at this moment, I laugh out loud at myself. My favorite chair is right up near the window. The curtain opens within arms length of my perch. And on my lap, the familiar sounds of my childhood.

The beeps, the static, the muffled sounds. The device is different, the words and events being reported are scarier, but the routine is mostly the same. Instead of a radio, it's an app. Instead of a crossword, it's crochet. Instead of Snyder, it's Amherst.

Instead of Joyce, it's Carrie Joyce.

Yes, I carry my Grandmother in my middle name.

Clearly, it's destiny.

The Secret Society

I have a son with ADHD.

I have another son with Epilepsy.

The ADHD was diagnosed in the summer of 2010.

The Epilepsy was diagnosed in the summer of 2012.

Why do I feel more knowledgeable with epilepsy than I do with the ADHD?

It isn't for lack of reading and experimenting and testing.  I've done it all.  The last Psychologist said, "Well, I don't really think we can do anything for [Big Boy], you are already implementing everything I would suggest."

Why is it that when I talk to anyone (other than a close friend) about ADHD and the fact that my son HAS it, do they lower their voice?  It happened the other day at the school.  I was talking to a school employee and she lowered her voice so that the other person couldn't hear.  It wasn't so that we wouldn't disturb anyone.  (I don't question this employees whispering, I happen to think she will be the key to Big Boy's success.)  Why whisper?  Are we as society ashamed of ADHD?

It really hit me that day.  ADHD is a Secret Society.  As a mom, I've felt alone.  Abandoned.  Fighting our own family battle to get some help for our son.  No parent has ever come up to me and said, "Hey, you look like you may be struggling with [Big Boy], I want you to know my son, daughter, nephew, neighbor, etc. has ADHD and it's nothing to be ashamed of."

Many years ago I went to an Adult Education class on finding your Spiritual Angels.  I know, corny, but I've always felt connected to the spiritual world and I was grasping at straws for answers and guidance, so tried everything.  While immersed in meditation in this class, I began to cry.  I had connected with 'something/someone' and I could hear myself feeling guilty for the ADHD diagnosis.  That was the first bombshell.  I actually felt responsible.  The classmates helped me understand that it is nothing to feel guilty about.  Feeling guilty adds a great unnecessary burden.  A burden that sticks in the mud and doesn't bring anything positive to the situation.

And the second bombshell is the whispering.  Why must we whisper?

ADHD is a is a neurobehavioral disorder. Guess what?  Epilepsy is a chronic neurological disorder.  So why does saying "my kid has epilepsy" vs. "my kid has ADHD" garner totally different responses?  Granted, ADHD doesn't involve seizures, but both have a medication, both are neurological, and both affect learning.

ADHD isn't a nasty cold sore you try to cover up.  It isn't an excuse to defend my poor parenting skills.  It needs to be nurtured and cared for by not only the parents, but teachers and friends, too.  How can others even begin to understand the needs of my son if no one knows he has this disorder? 

I used to be worried about the ADHD label.  I think the stigma of labeling of kids has decreased as the frequency of kids that need extra help has increased.  Was I worried or ashamed of the label?

Screw the label.  Label away.

My kid needs help and I'm not going to whisper anymore.

 

 

Third Day of Homework Heaven

Yes, you heard me, Heaven.

Not sure what is happening, but I needed to document this one. Yesterday, Big Boy came home from school and got his homework out with me only asking ONCE!

Once. For Big Boy. And his homework.

This is huge, my friends. This boy of mine doesn't usually "hear" me the first three times I ask for something like this.

Then, today, I picked them up from school and we came directly to the library.

Big Boy would have done his homework right away, but I forgot to bring pencils. I found one in my bag. Little Man completed his, then passed the pencil on to his brother. All homework was completed in mere minutes.

If you are having troubles getting your child to do their homework, have them try it directly after school, with a snack. I used to believe that Big Boy needed a break from being in school all day long. Not so.

He is still in the 'work' mode as he comes home, if he moves to the 'play' mode, we're done for. That is 100% chance of Homework Hell.

I must note, that since I've written this down publicly, tomorrow will suck. But that's okay, I'm ready for it. It's my life and I have learned that it's one giant roller coaster.

They have collected eleven Goosebumps Horrorland books and are reading away. It's so peaceful and quiet here, I wish I could take a nap!

Theme for Today

My eldest is often gloomy. We are working on it. It's a hard thing to teach. Be positive. He has written positive things about himself on his chalkboard. I am so happy that he hasn't erased it. It's so important to think positively.

Look for a smile and things will be better.

Giraffe and Turtle Birthdays

We celebrated some very important birthday's last week.

Giraffe turned ten and Turtle turned seven years old.

I love their names.  Giraffe and Turtle.

So creative.

These boys are so sweet.  They made presents for the animals, shared their cakes and had quite a special day.

When these boys of mine are teenagers, I'll remind them of the years we had to have birthday parties for their animals, including our fish.  Yes, the next birthday in this house is for one of our indoor fish.

Not sure cake is a good idea for them!

Back At It

Lasting one day, I'm back on the blog. I guess when "they" say, 'do something for a month and it will become a habit', I agree.

I missed the blog, I know, crazy. Enough about that...look what I resurrected from the basement!

It took me a couple rounds to get back into the stitch of this one.

There is one more big section on this Babette Blanket for Big Boy. Little Man is next, and I'm sure he won't forget that I still haven't made his!

It's a fun and easy blanket, easily adapted for a boy. The pattern is from Interweave.