Month: January 2014

After waiting months and months and MONTHS for the list of job opportunities to be posted . . . they were.

And they might as well take both of them back (that’s right, there were only 2 jobs on the list, both in the same city, that Josh is eligible to apply for). None of the interesting sounding locations were on the list. They had all been dropped sometime between September and now.

Which means I’m waiting for round two. There’s one more list that still hasn’t been released, but all my hopes were riding on List 1. Feeling disgruntled today . . .

Josh got home from San Diego and my mom flew in about 48 hours after that. It’s been quite a week.

Meelie cut her hair while I was in the shower so I had to take her to the salon to have layers added all over to try and even it out.

Josh gets home today, Camille cut her own hair this morning, and I’m getting a headache. My white knight will hopefully arrive in time to put our beauty to bed. I’m sure it won’t be her own bed, but as long as someone else is doing the patting on the back and singing, I’m happy.

Of course as I write this I’m sitting in Costa Coffee by myself with a huge foamy cappuccino and Josie is home cleaning my house and watching Camille so don’t feel sorry for me.

Time to finish up with my happy place — fairy chimneys surrounded by snow.

Camille was sick in the night and Calvin felt sick in the morning so I stayed home with them, and Josh took the other two boys for a long hike in the snow. They came home glowing and beaming and wet and muddy from all of their adventures. I was happy to stay inside next to the fire, but by lunchtime I was ready to get out of my cave so we walked into town for lunch.

Our last day:

Drinking tea in the sunshine overlooking this view — I could have stayed another week.

Josh has been gone for almost a week — he’s back in America soaking up the San Diego sunshine. Meanwhile our highs are 60-65 in a house with no heat (a normal feature of houses here). I’ve been wearing wool socks, sweats, and my puffy jacket inside the house. Good thing winter only lasts a month here.

On the bright side, I’ve been so busy this week, I’ve hardly had time to sit around my cold house. All the winter/spring activities started up again after a holiday break and for the first time I have 4 in soccer. The scheduling gods smiled on me though because I have 3 on one night in a 2 hour period and 1 on another night with a friend who can carpool. That leaves the other nights open for ballet, youth group, home group, and all the other things that fill up our schedule.

Since Camille is still a wretched sleeper (I’d love to do a word count and figure out how many times I’ve written about that topic in the last 3 and a half years), I’ve given up, waved the white flag, surrendered, and embraced it. With Josh gone I’m just letting her lay in my bed next to me while I watch TV and she falls asleep when she falls asleep. Her average time seems to be about 11 (and this is both with and without a nap. I’ve tried everything). It’s better than putting her to bed at 8 and having to deal with crying, screaming and sneaking out of the room until 10:30. The only thing that would make it better is if she would be quiet in my bed instead of asking questions like, “Who’s that? What are they doing?” Peace please.

Last night I put her to bed at 8 and lay with her until she fell asleep. It is the mothering job I hate the most. I’d rather clean toilets. At the end of the day, I just want to be done. Good night, kiss, kiss. The end. I know it sounds all sweet, but lying there doing nothing feels like the most unproductive thing in the world and it makes my skin crawl. She won’t relax and she keeps trying to talk to keep herself awake and I get increasingly irritated the longer it goes on and it’s torture and I threaten to leave if she keeps trying to get up . . . it’s not pretty. Josh is the one that usually handles her bedtime.

But last night I was a perfect Goodnight Mom. I lay there, praying for resilience and patience and for her to fall asleep. It took about 30 minutes (15 of it was loud screaming in my ear, but I endured) and then magic. She was in dreamland.

I went downstairs and turned on the TV and stumbled on American Idol — the newest season. It was a gift from God for putting my daughter’s needs before my own. 35 minutes of greatness until she woke up screaming. Seriously. I could not make this stuff up. If she were my first, I would think that it was poor parenting. Now I’m positive that she’s a defective sleeper. I didn’t have any luck getting her to relax so I had her lie on the couch next to me. She stayed awake until 11.

On the flip side (and why this week has been manageable as a solo parent), I hate mornings and dealing with her at night makes me hate them even more. So I bartered with the boys: I would trade the morning wake up routine for xbox time. If I wake them for school at 6:30 and they get themselves dressed, fed, and on the bus so I can go back to sleep at 6:31 then they can have an hour of Xbox time when they get home from school.

I’ve been a happier mom all week, they’ve been happier kids (who wouldn’t be thrilled with xbox privileges?), and I’ve let go of the guilt that comes with not being a morning person.