I didn't marry a romantic

This may turn into a vent here, so if you're the lovey dovey type, or married to one, you may want to pass this one by.

We are not a romantic couple, and when we attempt romance, it feels kind of weird. We're not a flower bringing, candle lighting type of couple. We love each other, but we don't love each other with poems and wine.

Today is Valentine's Day.

Typically, I like Valentine's Day ... I don't need flowers, I don't need a fancy dinner out, but I'd like a card, at least. Something. I don't care that you tell me you love me on a daily basis, but I'd like a card.

I tried telling myself that it didn't matter. But it does. To me, anyway.

So, Valentine's Day is on a Sunday. The Husband is home all day today. What a great combination.

Why does this make me want to cry instead?

I think what else gets me is that the kids see this, and what kind of example is this for them? So, after I get done here, I'm off to make them Valentine's. I did get them some (pathetically?) small candy treats, which I debated doing, since I don't want to consumerize the holiday. I bought them anyway.

Screw what The Husband thinks. This matters.

when the volunteer form comes around

remind me NOT to fill it out, please?

I do enjoy helping out at the kids school, it's one of the ways I can stay involved and aware of what is happening. It also frees up the teachers time so that she can actually teach.

Tomorrow is the Valentine's Day party for the 2nd grade. They are decorating picture frames. Picture frames that needed to be painted white. There are 21 students in my sons class. If you were interested, this is what 21 drying picture frames look like.

My washing machine, Drying Surface Number One

My ironing board, Drying Surface Number Two

My clothes rack, an actual drying surface, Drying Surface Number Three

Tomorrow will be a long and busy day, followed up by a much needed Moms Night Out with some of the other Mom's.

I would just like my house back, please.

something different

We had an earthquake at 3:58 this morning.

We've had them before, but never as big as this one. Today's EQ was centered 15 miles from our house and they say it was a 3.8 magnitude. It was enough to get me up and out of bed, hands on the dresser trying to stop the noise from the drawer handles (lovely metal handles, beautiful to look at, make a horrid noise when having an earthquake, especially considering we have 29 handles) waiting for kids to come running. They slept through it. I was not so lucky ... not only did I wake up but I then laid there awake and thought. And thought. And thought some more.

I live in a pretty solid house, slightly wonky, but I know it's gonna last. It can take a beating - rain, hail, wind ... dent the siding, maybe loosen a piece or two, but overall, it'll last. Unless we're staring down tornado warnings, I don't worry.

I was reading some of the news articles about this mornings seismic activity, and while they couldn't seem to agree, the various articles said that the earthquake in Haiti was anywhere between 10,000 to 16,000 to 33,000 times more powerful. I think it was that for every one point increase in magnitude, it is 100 times more powerful. I'm not exact on the science or math for that one, but I seriously cannot even imagine that. 33,000 times more powerful. Crap. Even 10,000 times more powerful. No wonder there's nothing left except rubble.

So, I sit here and think and let my mind run, as it's prone to do, and am reminded once again that I truly am blessed.

Life is good.

I am thankful.

One Tired Girl

I think The Bee is growing.

It's that or she's got something wrong. And as the daughter of a lifelong diabetic (Mom was diagnosed at age 13), who has heard for her entire life questions of "are you sure?" regarding early signs of diabetes ... I don't like her sleeping this much. I know it's probably nothing, but you can't just "undo" years of questioning.

This is where I found her yesterday at 4:00 in the afternoon.

You'll have to excuse the after school mess, and I'm not sure why snow pants were in the dining room, but hey ... that's how it works around here.

You can see Q at the table doing his homework, like it's an everyday occurrence to do your homework while your sister is taking a nap on the floor under the kitchen table.

Let's just hope it's nothing.

had a thought

I had quite the craptastic morning, complete with yelling (me) and crying (The Bee).

Not pretty, not good.

She was whiny, has been for a while, and I don't tolerate whine. Drink it, yes, otherwise, no.

So I yelled. She cried. I felt like crying.

We apologized, several times over, and all seems to be well.

So, after all of this, while heading to the Land of Plastic & Batteries (aka Toys R Us), I had a thought:

Running through the flower field with my hippy dippy dress is not easy.

Huh?

Yep - running through the flower field with my hippy dippy dress is not easy.

I try to be one of "those" parents - the one that doesn't yell, doesn't hit, ya ya ya ... we try to talk about what was done wrong, explain options and so on ... for the most part it works. It's tough, and believe me, there are some days when it would be so much easier to be the parent that yells, offers no explanations or discussion and leaves it at that. And yes, we occasionally do have those days.

In the mainstream world (you know, the world to my right, the one that I skirt the edges of) I would be that hippy dippy parent - I cloth diapered, made baby food, breastfed for over a year, co-slept - although I generally don't wear broomstick skirts and Birks.

I have Birks, but no broomstick skirt.

So yes, the type of parenting we have chosen, me, more than The Husband, since I'm with them all the time, is tough. It's worth it, definitely, but it's tough. I get criticized and have been made fun of.

So yes, todays jaunt through my hippy dippy field of flowers with my hippy dippy broomstick skirt was a rough one. But, for now, it looks like we're back on track.

This is good.