Slip Sliding Away

A friend is suffering the sleepless nights of having a new baby in the house.

No matter how much one enjoys the quiet of a home with only an infant and mother gazing into one another's eyes, the prolonged lack of sleep does take it's toll. It's hard.
Those precious new-baby moments are completely wasted on one who is exhausted and functioning on auto-pilot. Time slips rapidly and quietly and next thing you know there's a toddler in that baby bed.

I realize more and more that we don't grow out of that wasted time stage. No matter how many evenings I stare at the fresh-bathed angelic faces tucked cozily in their small beds while I breathe in their sweet child scent, I am always awakened just before "well-rested" seeps into my being much too early the next morning. The day winds it's way around my ankles and I catch myself clock-watching for the next date with my bed.

So many people offer their experienced advice, "Hold on, this time will pass too quickly!" which I know all too well (because of my 22 year-old). It's painfully true, but how do I hold on more than I am already?

I try to let go of a sink full of dishes or dust on my nightstand and remember neither will matter 10 years from now but a good sock puppet evening will. I also do my best to laugh when the children do, regardless of bad timing. But, just this morning when confronted with faces filled with wonder and eyes sparkling with the excitement of the treasure cupped in their hands-- a muddy, wet frog-- I instantly told them to put it down and run back to the house to wash their hands before the bus came. It was a difficult moment, knowing that I was missing an opportunity-remembering my own carefree childhood filled with frogs, salamanders and lizards, but faced with the responsibility of keeping them salmonella free.

I'm holding on. I adore my children who are growing way too quickly.

So I tell my friend,
"Hold that baby, breathe slowly and make yourself present in those quiet hours alone with her",

but I know my words will be wasted

on someone who is too tired to commit them
to memory.

What or who are you letting slip away through day to day obligations?

Employee of the Month

I'm considering of working outside the home.



Don't we all get to a point where we wonder if we're in the right place or not? For me, being a stay-at-home mother is not always the most satisfying life. Sometimes, I miss having an identity of my own. I fantasize about having a responsibility elsewhere, big people conversations that don't revolve around poo, and then coming in the door and having a hot, delicious meal waiting for me!

Anyway, I digress early today,

there's a job...

The hours are long. I'd have to clock in by 7 am every morning and sometimes will be required to work earlier.
There will be day shifts and night shifts and massive amounts of overtime.
The type of work depends on the day-- I could be doing everything from company paperwork to cleaning the employee toilets. Some jobs I will like more than others, but don't have a choice, I will have to do them all.

I know the people I'd be working with too. There's a couple of characters who make me laugh and some that can really do a number on a person's self-esteem. One particular female has made it quite clear that she thinks I'm fat. Can you imagine being around that everyday?

In addition to the regular work, I'd also be required to "be available" for last minute errands like bank runs, postal drops, etc...

The downside is what I know:

I know of one person who works hard but will never be available for those extra things-- which would leave me to do them. While he goes to the gym or to get a haircut, I can expect those last-minute "emergencies" will be left to me, so any plans I have will go out the window. That same guy is also going to school, so he gets first choice of the schedule for hours he'll be working. He's supposedly a really nice guy, but I think I could resent someone if their responsibilities always take priority over mine.

Another person is a crier. She gets what she wants a lot because she turns on the waterworks. That really bugs me, don't know if I could keep quiet watching her in action. I'd probably tell her off and end up looking like the bad guy.

There's a third person who has something of a lazy streak and will come up with all sorts of excuses to get out of actually doing the work. I don't waste the effort trying to motivate other people when I can just do it myself-- so I see my duties stacking from this joker. He's young too-- so his world revolves around him. Do I need to say more?

Most of the people I would be working with are known for their lack of organization. I'm great at that, I could really shine!


Unfortunately, that would mean some frenzied scrambling on my part to save us from their memory lapses.



I'm sure there's a crazy-huge list of positives for this job, but for some reason nothing's coming to me at the moment...

Where do I turn in my 2 weeks notice for stay-at-home-mom?





"Do you know what you call those who use towels and never wash them, eat meals and never do the dishes, sit in rooms they never clean, and are entertained till they drop? If you have just answered, 'A house guest,' you're wrong because I have just described my kids. "
Erma Bombeck

Motherhood

"Is there a baby in your tummy?"


She's been obsessed about time lines. She's confused about the aging process.

"When I'm a baby again..." she says often.

I feel like the troll for crushing her dreams of once again being a tiny baby, or being able to wear the cute little baby outfits or shoes that have finally been leaving our house. It's very traumatic for her.

It's because of this that I'm not bothered by her question. It's not meant to be like those comments you can see coming from children that destroy your self-esteem.

"No sweetie, you were the last baby".

"Yes, 'cuz look..." as she lifts my shirt, "Your tummy is really fat".

I'm like the Roadrunner. Always naive enough to think this time I just may come out on top...

“Whoever said money can't buy happiness simply didn't know where to go shopping.” *

The perfect house.
Magazine-worthy.
Furniture that actually goes together and accessories not limited to stray Barbie shoes and football trading cards.

I'm dreaming of a kitchen where the appliances glisten under accent lighting while warm cinnamon rolls are baking in the Aga; dishes aren't showing strain of a family of seven and the cookware doesn't wobble unevenly on the stovetop.
I've discovered an amazing place where dreams can run rampant, at CSN Stores. They specialize in quick, easy shopping for anything from lighting to tableware (and everything dreamy that falls between).

Because we move a lot and live in different countries, we are often faced with the daunting task of replacing most of the things that make our home function. Furniture, gaming systems, small appliances, etc..., it all has to be replaced and if I'm forced to hunt through several different shops, I will usually just go without.

I love shopping. Every morning when I wake up I wonder to myself, "Self, do we have time to squeeze in a little mall shopping today?"

NOT.

I never feel that way. I despise shopping. I am the girl who hangs back at the bench to people watch or read a discarded newspaper. Malls, schmalls. Unless this year's Britain's Got Talent finalists are performing there, I'm not interested. Shopping bores me when it's someone else needing to do it and gives me anxiety when I need to do it.

So you can imagine how grateful I was for the internet (thank you Al Gore).
Online shopping is me!
I can browse, dream and plan without pushy shoppers or disinterested sales clerks. The loud music invading my thoughts is my own and if a child needs toilet help, I can point in the direction without fear that there will be a loudspeaker declaring "urine clean up on aisle one!" or "will the parents of A2 please come to the customer service counter".

You're probably wondering what has me in such a giddy, shopping-praising mood. The generous folks over at CSN stores have kindly asked me to review something awesome...you'll have to come back, I can't give you everything in one post, can I?
Surfing through their Cookware store has allowed me to dream big- Tfal to Jamie Oliver-everything a kitchen could ever want.
Hmm, what goes with an aga? Oh yes, everything!
With a simple click of a button, CSN stores could easily make me a very happy woman.



I'm dreaming of a functional kitchen...

I think I just may like this shopping thing after all.

*Bo Derek

American Living in Great Britain

People often ask me if I like living in England.

I've nearly been here four years and have begun the next three, so I think that makes me somewhat of an expert on England ("A little knowledge is a dangerous thing").

I do love living here.

• I love the ferocity in which the county councils embrace Mother Earth by reducing our garbage and recycle pick up to every other week and then determine that too much is being deposited in the bins so they "chip" them.

A heavy bin results in the owner being fined. For recycling too much.


Speaking of recycling, is it just me that sees the irony in scrubbing containers to remove any food/soap residue so the item can be used again instead of wasting the Earth's resources? Do you know how much water is needed to properly clean a laundry detergent bottle?

• I love being able to buy Indian food in any shop on every corner. Forget what the guide books tell you about "bland English food".
  

There is no such thing.

One of our local pubs serves ONLY Mexican cuisine.

• The patriotism that seeps from every British pore--well, during World Cup time, anyway.

Image from GMTV/lifestyle

Remember 911 when American flags adorned many windows and people cried as Lee Greenwood sang?
That's what it's like here as England prepares for the World cup. It's hard not to get caught up in the excitement and it stinks that because of OPSEC I don't have American flags swaying on my drive.

It also stinks that I know more about the England team than I do the USA...

• I love the green. My mother is Internet shopping for a new house. I went online with her with a phone tucked between my shoulder and chin (she hooked me with: "It has a pool", so I had to take a look).
  

"Yuck." I said. "It's SO ugly there". She reminded me that it's desert.
You know, like what I grew up in and speak so fondly of
when Brit friends are heading that way for holiday.

• Pheasants and bunnies frolic in the garden and Dragonflies dance on the water's surface, taunting the frogs, toads and newts that live in our ponds.

• Auctions are held once a week.

• Carboots are plentiful and only a short drive from any one point.

• Food in the market is fresh.

There aren't a lot of unnatural or cancer-causing preservatives added.
I can buy a tub of humus (in many flavors) and enjoy it for about three days, or go to the base and buy the American version that will last me approximately two months or more...

I will go for the three-day humus every time.

I also have to wonder about our bread too since it is made in America, shipped over here, frozen, thawed and then sold to us to consume. A British loaf goes bad quickly. I'll eat the British loaf.

And speaking of additives...

Chocolate here is required to contain a certain percentage of... ready for this?

Cocoa.

Not corn syrup, not sugar, not vegetable wax. The Cadbury chocolate that is in America has been altered to appeal to American tastes. It certainly doesn't taste like what we buy here. In America, we have been brought up on wax, so that is what we get. Here, I can (and probably did) easily gain 2 stone eating real chocolate.

• Stones. I love weighing stones instead of pounds. It sounds better.

"I'm up to 20 stone now!" Dramatically stated with one's arm thrown up on the forehead with the flair of Scarlette O'Hara.

20. What a great number. I have fond memories of being 20.

Trying using that same delicate exasperation with,

"I'm up to 280 pounds now!"

while people discreetly hide their sandwiches from you.

I love England.

• I love the winding, frightening roads that once scared me into Braxton Hicks.
  

• I love the age and the sophistication of the castles and the quaint picturesque quality of the villages.

• I like gathering with people of my local village to watch a game of cricket or lawn bowls or coming together with villagers to fight future development.

• I love that I can not only watch a professional soccer game in a stadium of 25,000+, but that I can sit and chat with the players and take photos with them later.

• I love the light on the horizon at 10.30 at night and how the light creeps back into the sky by 3.30 am.

• I love having woodpeckers and Cuckoos filling the morning with their distinct sounds.

I'm not as fond of hearing the foxes in the fields at night, it's a little spooky, and downright disgusting when they get one of those frolicking bunnies.

• Here, you can talk about the weather. It's not only acceptable, but encouraged. I used to chide my husband because his family ONLY talked about the weather.
  

Arrogant Me: "Don't you ever loooong for having a conversation deeper than, 'Wow, it was windy here today' ?"
I'm the fool. His family must be proper English descendants (with a strong Mexican gene tossed in there somewhere).
I'm adjusting, I'll prove it.

I was awakened last night by thunder and an amazing downpour. It was wonderful! Today, however we held our breath through the Soccer on the Sands tournament the boys were playing in. It was overcast and hazy most of the day. I think it will be like that for the beginning of the week as well....

Why yes, as a matter of fact, I love living in England.
The Air Force is going to have to offer me something really sweet to get me to leave when it's time...

Now aren't you sorry you asked?

Letters to the Clueless

Dear Family,

I'm afraid I've given you the wrong impression and would like to set things straight.

No, I do not enjoy being banished to the kitchen while the rest of you lounge about on the sofa enjoying the rest of the movie I turned on for myself.

That kitchen banishment? Despite my happy face, I don't enjoy finally making it to join you all at the table and discovering all of the good bits have been picked and eaten out of my beautiful tossed salad, NOR do I enjoy clearing off the table while you wrestle.

Another misconception is that I love cleaning bathrooms.

I really don't want to ask why there is yellow drips on the walls, I am choosing to believe the previous occupant was a smoker and that's nicotine dribbling down the walls due to the high moisture in the room.
However, I'm finding it hard to convince myself that smoker has coughed up a lung on the toilet seat while we are living here.

AND, if one must make a big green cloud in said room, one should open a window and not just close the green cloud in so that some poor unfortunate bladder-challenged woman nearly passes out upon entering the room.
Gingerbread air freshener and decomposing frog is not a good combination. Please leave the spray out of the bathroom.



While speaking of bathrooms...


Miss Ky, I appreciate you have this need for good oral hygiene, but could your sudden drive to cleanse your teeth happen when I am NOT in the shower?

And if you decide to do it all by yourself and happen to spill about a half a cup of blue toothpaste on my carpet, it's best to just admit it instead of trying to hide it under your Snow White slippers.


By the way...



Can anyone enlighten me as to how a child measuring 42 inches can get toothpaste splatter six feet high on a mirror?

Your loving mother, Hostage

No sleeping children or innocent pedestrians were harmed in this shot taken while driving...