I was going to try to keep some of my absolute weirdness on my other blog (which I haven't fully established yet), so as to save any of my breast cancer readers from thinking poorly of the person I was (and am) pre- and post-breast cancer! I have also been wondering if it would be better to keep all of the weirdness NOT connected with my name (i.e. not on pamlucken.blogspot. com), but on another site.
However, it is also time to face facts - the weirdness is me! And if I keep shying away from spewing the weirdness on the world wide web (ha ha - isn't it funny to think of it that way? Remember when we didn't know what to call the the internet - the web, the net, online, internet, whatever?), I'll never write on here again...and my memory of what happens in my day to day life is thus gone, which is a shame. (My other blog is fine and all, but I'm so used to this one...)
I thoroughly wish I was one of those wonderful mothers who records her children's childhoods with journaling, and scrapbooks, and constant picture-taking, but I'm not. I waste my time wrestling with them, and ignoring them while I try to exercise, or garden, or thinking of what activity I have to do next (email the class to remind them of some activity? Plan a girl scout meeting? Set up a playdate for Nathan?). It is a good thing that at least some of these activities include them (the things I have to plan for and communicate with others), and it is also a good thing that THEY have good memories (esp. Emma - she is my child who remembers to wear a "green" shirt to her Green Committee meeting, that it is "crazy hair day" etc. I notice it later and am so proud that she is more ahead of herself than I am.)
I am not one of those mothers, though...and tears did threaten when a lovely HR woman at IKEA regaled me with the precious story of her journaling of her 2 year old son's first "Momma". Emma has a baby book and a calendar and a scrapbook, Katie has a calendar (first year, like Emma), and half of a baby book, and Nathan has a first year calendar and a giant box of memories (the girls have these too). "Here, precious son, make your own scrapbook, I don't have time!"
Bad mommy. I WANT to give my dearests everything, I just never make the time. Bad mommy who doesn't prioritize well.
So you see, I need this blog! It's easy to do while I walk away on the treadmill. I remember things while I am exercising, and WHAM! I can write them down!
For example, I want to remember how I was putting Emma to bed last night...or reputting her to bed, as the case might be. She has totally learned to take advantage of her mother and father's absentmindedness and she has found that as long as she gets in bed and turns out the light, she can then turn her light back on in about 1 minute and read until it is WAY TOO LATE! So I was reputting her to bed, and it was exactly like this...which I know about because the Kay family has brought the joy of Sesame Street back into my life (and into the life of my children. We can now all reference numerous Sesame Street moments which we never actually saw on the show...we've only seen them on youtube with Matthew.)
I was singing, not this song, just a gentle and yet strange song of my own creation, and giving her nice pats on her head, and then I would -in a flash!- pull her covers up and leap onto her to tuck her in (in the middle of the song I was singing, to surprise her). She would scream (isn't that such a good thing to do, when there are 2 other children already asleep and a husband who is trying to sleep - make your 10 year old scream?), and tell me to do it again...and again...and again. At the end, I said, "Now, have you been put to bed with the respect you deserve, having been my daughter for 10 years, 3 months, and 19 days?"
She smiled sweetly and said, "No. Only after you do this 10 more times." Meanwhile, Dagny looked at me with a look that said, "Are you DONE yet? I'm ready to go to sleep, woman!" and Katie came storming upstairs to demand the same mistreatment (which she got, later, because she was the lucky child to share the menopausal suite with me last night).
How great that this was all happening at 10:30pm, on a night when I told Bill that the kids could NOT watch The Amazing Race! It's already 8:40pm!
They need to go to bed early! (They did watch a dvr'd episode, prior to this "bedtime"...and see, that is the problem! I try to be disciplined with bedtime, but if I am overruled even for a second, I can no longer keep up that fake-disciplined facade.)
SOOO...good. I'm glad I will remember that weirdness now. I'm also glad that now Bill knows I kept Emma up until 10:30pm, since he was the one to deal with her crankiness this morning.
And with that, I'd like to make a warning...I have much crazier weirdness to report. Such as this:
and that's only the half of it.