Confessin'

Friday Confessional

I'm am at that point where I don't want my children to touch me anymore. (So of course they all feel clingy and needy and insistent)

It's 6:30 and I haven't fixed dinner and I'm going to bed them to bed as soon after 7 as I can.

I don't know what to get my spouse for his birthday. Maybe a positive pregnancy test (haha, that's funny cuz his boofday is April 1st.).

You know how I said I was gonna post every day ... and I haven't? I wish it was because I had a hot, secret, anonymous blog. But really, I'm just lazy and have poor follow thru skillz.

I love my un-paid teaching position but I'm afraid to commit for fear I'll get sick of it.

I still feel beyond burnt out at home tho. Every Friday evening is the same. YOU go out with your spouse and have a nice dinner, maybe a movie. Quality time together. I, however, sit up wondering if he'll get here before I loose consciousness (unlikely), having yelled myself horse and probably beaten all my children, into compliant, terror induced comas ... last week was supposed to be the last week. Good thing I had no hope, right?

I have Carpet Beetles.

Why Do I Go To Chruch?

Sometimes a blog post stays with you for a while. You can't get it out of your head and you know you have to address it yourself.

Why do I stay in the church? Why do I even go?

Most of the time, the answer is: I just go for my kids and because my husband makes strongly encourages me to go.

Not the best reasons, maybe.

Sacrament Meetings are really difficult. I can't listen and enjoy the meeting because (1) the talks are usually not very good. "As I was writing this talk last night ... ramble, ramble, blah, blah, blah." And (2) I have to wrangle and bribe my children to keep them quiet. Tho, learning to sit respectfully is a GREAT skill.

Our kids are finally old enough now to go to their own various children's classes, and, since I burnt myself out of Primary, I get to go to the adult classes now (YAY *does a little jig*). There, I ask irrelevant, off topic, bordering on blasphemic questions, but it's interesting. And grown-ups talk with/to/at me. During Relief Society, I sit quietly; I still only know half a dozen ladies.

Why do I go?

What keeps me coming back?

A few smiles and idle chit chat ... that doesn't really bring me closer to God.

There's an upcoming RS meeting on meat cutting ... hmmm.

Once in a while, I get a taste of something. Some scripture or phrase or word ignites my thought processes and I feel a connection to God. Something real, tho intangible. Truth.

Little things I easily forget:

God knows me perfectly.
The most important commandments: Love God; Love one another.
I am perfect, despite my perceived flaws.
God is much kinder and more forgiving than anyone on Earth understands.
And He's funny.

I love to partake in theological discussions with interesting people who can't accept my religion because some things don't work for them. Because Joseph Smith was a terrible business man and seemed to have a few lady friends on the side. Brigham Young was a bigot. Horses. Steel. Elephants. Mountain Meadow. Cover-ups. Blacks and the Priesthood. Women and the Priesthood. Aliens. Pre-mortal life. The After-life. As God is, man may become.

To say nothing of the pomposity, arrogance, and hypocrisy, they think they see. The "not one of us" attitude they feel from LDS neighbors, co-workers, and even family, unfortunately. "You're not LDS, you wouldn't understand."

Why do I go?

Why do I continue to be a member of The Church of Jesus Christ of Latter Day Saints?

This is what I come up with: The gospel of Jesus Christ, the atonement, all of it is strictly personal. I have to work and struggle and understand it all for myself. Life is hard. It is a very good test, I think. And even though we each have a unique hard test, we can help each other. Church is a weekly study group. No, you don't need to go to study group to pass the test. But it reminds us of pieces we may be unsure of, things we failed to take notes on, parts we need to go home and study better. It gives us a chance to teach the things we think we know (which is the best way to see if you really know it). It gives me a chance to help bear others' burdens and feel my own being lifted. Church is probably the hardest and best place for me to practice being a Christian.

4 ^aCharity ^bsuffereth long, and is ^ckind; charity ^denvieth not; charity vaunteth not itself, is not puffed up,

5 Doth not behave itself ^aunseemly, seeketh not her ^bown, is not easily ^cprovoked, thinketh no evil;

6 Rejoiceth not in ^ainiquity, but rejoiceth in the ^btruth;

7 Beareth all things, believeth all things, hopeth all things, endureth all things.

8 Charity never ^afaileth...

(1 Corinthians 13:4-8)

I'm going to keep going to church, but I'm going to try to be more charitable to my study buddies there.

Confessing My Secrets

Forgive me readers, for I have sinned. It has been two weeks since my last Friday Confession.

• My pee smells funny to me. Not bad, but kinda weird. Different than it used to. Nothing hurts down there ... *shrugs*
• I really miss my husband.
• I think I might have a job I could love ... I can see why he might stay at his so much, but then again, I love him so much I'd want to be home to see him more.
• I get so grumpy so fast.
• I'm really grumpy now.
• But I'm going to make dinner and put the kids to bed, just the same.
• I am trying to give up all my hope that my husband will every be home/not work late most every night.
• How can that be good for me?
• What's a girl to do?
• I feel rude, that my confessionals are always so serious and angry. I wish they were cute and lighthearted bordering on silly, like so many others. I have a heavy heart, perhaps.
• The kids are watching Willy Wonka and I think I'm gonna go buy myself some chocolate after I put them to bed.
• "DON'T TOUCH THAT SQUIRREL'S NUTS! IT'LL MAKE HIM CRAZY!"
• I think there is another life I'd rather live.
• I bet I'd be just as whiny tho.

I Should Be Napping

I have been struggling with my daily posting since I got the Montessori job.

And I have had maybe 6 ish hours of sleep in the last ... what, 48? (It's my own fault, not the kids').

Sagan's pediatrician called and said the radiologist doesn't think Sagan's leg is broken. Wants to cut off the cast, see how she does, and recast it if necessary.

OK.

I have staff meeting. Just thought you should know.

(Really profound blog post, Mrs. B ... wow. It's thought provoking stuff like this that keeps you on top!)

Siblings

I had one brother. He was special needs and I learned a lot from being his sister, but I never enjoyed a normal sibling relationship. I know they are not easy, but, as an adult, I often envy women with sisters they can talk to. With brothers they can call.

I do have an amazing set of brother- and sister-in-laws, but I hesitate to call them - I don't want to intrude, you know. I'm sure they wouldn't mind ... but it's very hard for me to force anyone to listen to my issues. (Except you. You come here voluntarily tho, not just because I married your brother).

So. Having children. Whether they see it as such or not, I feel like I'm giving them the gift of each other.

I wish I could give everyone a brother and a sister, but I'm not sure I can.



And they are all crazy normal amazing people. Who will have each other, hopefully even after I leave them. People who know why they are crazy like they are.


People they don't have to be ashamed to ask for help ... because they've all gone through so much indignity already, everything else is no big deal.



I love them so much. It's crazy how much I want them to always be happy and never let bad things happen.

"Roths Stand Together!" I tell them. I want them to always have each other when they need each other.

So I Took A Few Days Off ... Blah blah blah

Stuff that I remember since I last posted:

Sagan got her cast on (that was a few hours ago, so it's easy to remember).



I got sick and stayed in bed all day Sunday. (Greg thinks it was just Sundayitis ... but I never sleep all night and day and night ... maybe I'm having a growth spurt.)

I was grumpy that it took my husband until 2:30 to check on me and bring me drugs and OJ.

He did almost all the laundry.

That makes my bosom burn more than any testimony meeting ever could! (In this example, a burning in one's bosom is a good thing. Sometimes it is not.)

On Saturday, my amazing wonderful awesome sister-in-law FINALLY brought me my Christmas presents ... it was the most unique and amazing conglomeration of love and thoughtfulness ever. She got me Singing Monkey Balls, A Glowing Orb, Necklaces with Matching Earrings, and A Brain Shaped Jello Mold. Best Christmas Ever!



Yes, this would be Grape Strawberry Banana brain Jell-o.

But now she is in AZ, next to the the Parent-In-Law's Arizonian pool, free from frakking daylight saving time and with tickets to see Flogging Molly!



Sigh.

What I Like About Me

It's SO easy to go on and on about my flaws and shortcomings (I have lots of practice). Today I want to write about one thing I like about myself.

I'm not a perfectionist.

Today I started and completed a little craft project with my kids.

It's not perfect.

If I had waited for my husband to cut the wood properly or finally show me how to use the table saw (I'll wear the goggles, I promise) I could have cut the board perfectly straight. Instead, I did the best Io could with what I had. That means I used a steak knife to make a shallow line on what used to be the top of the train table. Then I karate kicked it (because it is Chuck Norris' birthday) and it mostly broke how I wanted it to.

Then I used the staple gun to attach the fabric ... some of the staples went through too far, but they are mostly covered.

The letters are not perfectly straight.

My kids think it is really cool.

So, this craptastically adorable work of art will hang by the dining room table.

I always feel so bad for perfectionists. They have to spend more time and money and if it doesn't turn out just so, they feel like a failure.

Also, they are very annoying to us good-enough-is-good-enough-ers.

Went to Alice. Sat behind Gay Boys.

You have to know .. my poor husband often HATES this blog. He despises every detail about him that I have sent blazing eternally out into the internet. He would be thrilled beyond all belief if this were a private blog just for family and I only reported happy family news.

Sigh.

I'm sorry Greg ... that's not what I wanna write. (*cute pouty face, batting eyelashes*)

*****

I rarely make it to a real movie theater these days. Maybe once a month. But I've been looking forward to Tim Burton's Alice in Wonderland for months.

With Tim Burton and Johnny Depp and Alan Rickman and Helena Bonham Carter ... ahhh, so much potential.

But alas, much like Sweeny Todd ... Alice fell short for me. Shorter than Sweeny, even.

Johnny Depp reminded me of Frodo Baggins with his cute smile and evil scowls. The lead actress (Mia Wasikowska) just wasn't very good. And then the lines were kinda ... sucky. Finally, the plot was unsatisfying. It's supposed to be "the hero's journey", y'know? I think Alice looked fabu in shining armor. But there is a point where she just starts doing stuff because the plot must move and why does killing the Jabberwocky dethrone the Red Queen anyway?? I wanted to like it, like I wanted to like The Lion, The Witch, and the Wardrobe, but they just feel hallow. Why? Lack of character and relationship development.

I blame stupid Disney. They have this name brand thing and just don't put forth the effort. Get some big names, go thru the motions of story telling, brainwash the kids (big and small) into thinking it'll be good this time. Greg and I walked out wondering how movies get made? These people make movies, tell stories, professionally ... and have been at it for a long time. How can they not recognize suckage when they watch the dailies? Or read the lame screenplay? Sigh. Wouldn't they rather make an excellent wonderful movie (like Pixar) than a half-assed thing that'll make millions but no one LOVES?

Oh yeah, and there were cute gay boys sitting in front of me, with their styled/messy tinted hair, getting all cozy. The movie has a few slow parts, so I kept peeking to see who's hand was on who's knee ... I'm juvenile and easily entertained. I love love. In UTAH, baby! I don't know ... I think telling your kids, "Some boys like boys better," in a factual way is the best way to go ... it IS true after all. Do you have to pass on the judgment part? I am still following the life of this guy ... hoping for the best for him. Life is so hard and complicated and confusing. For all of us really.

T Minus 36 ..... IUD

You've all been so helpful, telling me how initially painfully, then gloriously superb IUD's are: have all the sex you want, never worry about missing pills, possibly never even have another period. So, I'm gonna get me one.

(Yeah ... I can't get husband to go in for a vasectomy. So, as usual, we take matters into our own hands. Sigh.)

My appointment is for 4:15.

So. Exhale. Sigh. I guess I better be off. I'll update in explicit detail post op.

I'm nervous.

I hate the girl-junk-doctor.

I'd so much rather go see a dentist.

***UPDATE***

Dammit. Okay. So how pleasant is this: they put the IUD in when you're on your period. Because your lovely birth canal is open widest. And the hormone levels are optimal. I can not imagine how any man could ever decide that gynecology is the profession of choice?!

So that'll be about 3 weeks. (Why do you read my oh so TMI blog posts???!!)

Gah ... I really don't enjoy much about my gender.

I stopped taking birth control a week ago because I couldn't take the weekly migraines AND work with children. Plus I had made the decision to go with the IU frikken D.

So after my unproductive appointment (for which they still happily took my co-pay), I drove over to the store formerly known as Albertson's and made a purchase. For her pleasure (haha, as if).

And now I'll finish off this lovely tub of blue cheese and my Pepsi Max. And maybe I'll go running. And sit around and wait for my period. Which may never come. Because I stopped taking birth control.

Wow this cheese is tangy. MmmMmm.

Broken Buttercup

I have made it almost 8 years as a mother without having a kid break something. Well, bone-wise, I mean. Ever since Canon started crawling, we've been waiting for it to happen. That boy is ... I don't know ... sometimes I wish I'd named him Sits-Quietly-Reading-In-The-Corner.

Canon is still 100% intact, despite jumping from the playhouse roof about 5 feet to the ground. He rolls.

Sagan, my precious flower, however ... not so intact.

It was a lovely day yesterday. The whole family, even daddy, was out frolicking in the back yard. Sagan tripped in a weird awkward way and let us know she was in pain for about the next hour.

We took her to the clinic. The (somewhat sleep deprived looking) doctor had some X-rays taken and sure enough, baby girl had broken her adorable little leg. Wanna see?

So they put a splint on baby girl and sent us home.

Sagan a busy little girl and has not been enjoying her sudden immobility. We're trying to keep her entertained and hopped up on pain medication. Tomorrow, we'll take her to her pediatrician and we're guessing they will throw a cast on her.

Poor little pumpkin, of all the things to inherit from mommy, she had to inherit my grace.

Too Much

Hello. I take my weekly confession pretty seriously.

I confess:

• I think I might be addicted to this confession stuff.
• I was in a really great mood just moments ago and now I'm really not.
• Sometimes I feel so empty and alone in my marriage that I want to give up.
• I wonder if I really have it in me ... eternity.
• I've never been really good with the follow through. Not in golf, not in anything.
• I wish my husband had a better/nicer/prettier/less humiliating wife and I love him so much it kills me to know he's stuck with me.
• I watched a French film, Shall We Kiss (Un Baiser S'il Vous Plaît), and I loved it SO much.
• I also love the song According to you, by the very cool Orianthi.
• They both make me so very, very sad.
• I miss my dad. A lot more than I think I should (It'll be 10 years this St. Patrick's Day).
• Sometimes I wish I could hug him and hold him and feel loved unconditionally.
• I feel a smidge unlovable right now.
• I hope it goes away.

Canon vs. The Meanie-Head Teacher

I'm an under-the-radar flyer. A not-rocking-the-boat-er. A go with the flow-er. A rule follower.

And when my name is called, I still assume I'm in trouble.

I hate being in trouble.

Canon, however ... I think he might have some trouble maker tendencies. An extra hefty dose of the Anderson Brat in him.

He got in trouble for hitting today. He didn't hit a kid; he's been really good about playing nice at school. Shockingly well.

He hit a teacher.

Well, he knocked her a little as he ran by.

If it'd been me and some kid, I would have put my hand on their shoulder and said, "Excuse me." Usually a kid will say that right back to you. If they didn't, I would say, "When we bump into people, we say, 'Excuse me.'"

She essentially demanded an apology, "Canon, you bumped into me, you need to say, 'I'm sorry.'"

I didn't see the event. I don't know what he did, whether he was being malicious or simply careless. I give people the benefit of the doubt. I don't like to make a big deal of things. I carefully pick my battles.

She decided this was her hill.

He's only gone to school for 3 days and no one has ever told him (or me) exactly what the school's rules are. Maybe a little "this is the rule" warning would have been sufficient ...

She pushed the issue, Canon shut down. She kept pushing and he got upset. He refused to look at her, yet alone apologize. She carried him to time out. He became hysterical. The Boss Teacher told him he could come to me. He ran over crying. The Other teacher tried a couple of times to talk to him; he couldn't look at her. I sat with him in this time out and tried to talk to him, explain what he had done and needed to do. He cried. A few minutes later she told me I needed to walk away or timeout isn't serving its purpose.

I mentally flipped her off.

Just so you know ... it's not just me. The Other New Teacher commented that the Other Teacher seems harder on the kids. As I was waiting for Canon to finish in the bathroom before leaving for lunch, the Boss Teacher came over. I smiled and said, "Canon had a hard time this afternoon." She sighed and said, "Well, one of our teachers thinks she has to make the kids behave. They will behave on their own for the most part." I raised my eyebrows, nodded, and sighed.

Thus the office politics begins ... I forgot about how certain personalities can make a job considerably more challenging. All part of the fun!

We Don't Have That Game

We organized our game cupboards on Sunday (church smurch ... we got closets to sort!).

Also, I totally coded that picture in ... with like computer language stuff. Like this: img src="http://imgs.xkcd.com/comics/sex_dice.png" alt="Dice Sex" width="475" height="151" /

and then with <> the the start and end.

Comic from XKCD, which sometimes makes me laugh and sometimes makes me realize how I'm not so very smart. But I get THIS one ... I do. Really. I get it.

That's really all I have to say about it. I really hope my posts get better soon. All this balancing priorities and restructuring life is tricky.

Making Up for Lost Blogs

NEW JOB!

I haven't posted since Friday? Good gravy! And, it IS Tuesday, if you've forgotten.

BUT.

Look, hey, I got a job, guys! And one I'm not kind of half embarrassed to tell people about. Yeah, so I'm kind of a pre-school teacher now. Just the mornings, Monday-Friday at a Montessori-based school.

I'm a little vague on the details and I don't really care. (Little things like where the adult bathroom is and if I'm getting paid and if so, how much. Details.) I've only been there for two days and I am really quite impressed. It's really cool: the kids are responsible to do certain things, math and reading, but they do it when and where they want to. Look around and for the most part you see kids talking but disruptively. Some will sit at a table, some will sit on the floor, some by the window, some by the music. Then there are dozens and dozens of other things they can do, puzzles, sorting activities, life skills (sweeping, dusting, shoe tying etc), drawing, cutting, coloring, pasting, hole punching.

One thing, I got "in trouble" for reading a story to a small group of kids. One boy brought me the book and asked me to read it. A few minutes late, one of the other teachers said, "It's not story time, so we don't read to them right now. Either they can read the book themselves or if the words are too hard, they need to do some word building."

I'm not quite familiar with all the rules and tools and jargon, so I'll be looking that up. I was a little miffed. Now I'll never know what happens with Curious George and the puppies. Seems like even though Montessori seems to be child driven learning ... grrr ... everyone EVERYONE likes to sit back hear a nice story and if they can do what they want when they want ...

Two stressful things:

1. I don't know what I'm SUPPOSED to do ... I'm faking it ... I like it, but I feel like I should be DOING something ... MORE.

2. I have Sagan and Canon in with me. Now this is kind of fun, I get to watch my wild and crazy kiddo get his work, carry it to a table, do it, and put things away almost instinctively. I think he will really do well in this environment. But, having me there allows him to be a little clingy. He doesn't like circle/group time ... he'll get used to it.

Sagan ... she is thrilled to have everything low for her. She;s constantly playing with the sinks and puzzles ... however, she is no good at cleaning up and putting away (yet). And she like to take things from the older kids. And she usually naps at 11 and I'm pushing her nap to 1 ... so she gets cranky toward the end.

There really isn't a toddler area set up. That's in-progress and when it is ready, I think that is where they will have me working. I hope that is soon ... I have a hard time keeping track of my monkeys while helping the other children.

And HOLY MONKEY CRAP my thighs are killing me from squatting down. I like to get down to their level when I talk ... and wow ... I'm gonna have some impressive quads.

Ok. Now to research Montessori techniques and stretch the old (but still cute) legs.