Domestic Psychology

Bumpy Day

// April 26th, 2012 // No Comments » // animals, children

Hump Day. Wednesdays are the middle of the work/school week. It’s the day that sends us sliding down the hill toward the weekend. Wednesday is a metaphorical bump in the road. Sometimes, Wednesday is less of a playground equipment ladder to climb and more of an obstacle course.

It began with a ringing phone, except that it was a melody instead of a ring, but everyone already knows that part of the story. The caller ID on the phone shined brightly. “Nurse Mary”

Sweet, wonderful Nurse Mary spoke in her soothing voice as she explained the thirty minute nosebleed, broken glasses, and kickball incident. It was clear that there was no immediate danger, but a need for a precautious checkup and an afternoon of cartoons on the couch. Instead of scooping up the injured 9-y-o, I asked if TCAPs were finished for the day. I hate myself for being prepared to force a child in need of snuggles to sit with a scan sheet for another hour, but that is where we are with standardized testing right now. Pass TCAPs or fail a grade is a reality.

Luckily, the TCAP testing was completed for the day and an unusually quick visit to the pede eliminated any worries about Voldemort nose syndrome. The expensive, specialized glasses for “weak eyes” absorbed most of the kick faceball’s impact. Except for a week or so of very odd bruising, Amy is going to be fine.

The cat will not be fine. The cat is no more. She has ceased to be. She has shuffled off this mortal coil, run down the curtain and joined the choir invisible.

Aspie Caveman was born a cat whisperer. Feral cats purr in his lap. House-cats are magnetically attracted to him. All cats absorb the excess stimulation that make Aspie Caveman’s senses sting and burn. While his affection for animals is not limited to cats, cats are the peak of the Aspie Caveman hierarchy.

Aspie Caveman sat and pet the cat as she breathed her last breath.

Everyone cried.

So, we had a cat funeral. There was brush to clear and dirt to dig. Tired and dirty, we stood in the rain and created closure. A kazoo hummed taps and we stared at the cardboard box in the hole.

Doug: “Evan, do you want to say something?”
Evan: “Yes. She’s gonna come back as a zombie cat.”

Dear Dad,

// September 10th, 2011 // 3 Comments » // people

Now that we know your parents are alive, it’s time for you to stop using “this could be the last time” to control everyone’s schedules. Since it is possible that any activity is ANYONE’S last time, everyone could use that expression. If it’s true for everyone, it is redundant to say what is always true.

You will get more mileage asking me if I’m spending my day as I would want my last day spent. There needs to be a lot less somber lasts and a little more living in the moment. Please stop planning for death and get back to living life. Since I do need to at least try and get my garage cleaned out before I die, sometimes I’m going to have to say no to you.

Just remember, I love you.

Practice SAT questions

// April 19th, 2011 // No Comments » // me

1. If a bottle of 100 Tylenol caplets has one broken caplet, what are the odds that you will get one half of the broken caplet every single time you try to get two whole caplets?

2. If patting a hand rhythmically against anything results in a very large dog crawling in your lap for attention, how many times will the driver of a car mistakenly air drum on the steering wheel with the dogs in the car?

3. How many times will a carpenter bee slam into a window before it moves to a more porous surface?

Jury Duty

// February 28th, 2011 // No Comments » // me, parenting

Last week, I got summoned for Jury Duty. I spend most of Monday – Friday in the car or in a school, but I got chosen for Jury Duty. There are a bajillion people who don’t have lives that are completely focused on their five children, but they chose me for Jury Duty. Because every lawyer wants a news junkie, hyper-tweeting blogger on their client’s jury, I have been chosen to sit in the hall, get interviewed and get turned down, all day, every day, for two weeks.

The instructions letter with my summons included an e-mail address to contact if I am not able to “fulfill my duties.” While sitting in the elementary school carpool line last week, I sent an e-mail asking if my date to serve could be rescheduled for summer break when I can get a babysitter and the children don’t require constant mom taxi service. I got no answer. Now, I have to make a choice.

One option is to bring all of the children to the courthouse early Friday morning so that they will neither be stranded at their different schools nor unwatched. I think this will displease the court officials.

Another option is to just pretend that I will be finished at the courthouse in time to be in the Kindergarten carpool line before 1 pm. That couldn’t possibly go wrong and I would certainly make the 3 pm bus stop pickup and the 3:30 pickup at the high school. If I’m not there on time, I’m sure the teachers will happily watch my children, fix them snacks, supervise their homework and make sure they get to after school practices and activities.

My third option is, umm, well . . . I don’t have another option. Either option is going to end poooorly.

Update: I found a real person to talk to and I am officially . . . excused from serving. That loud noise you just heard was my sigh of relief.

December 31, 2010

// December 31st, 2010 // 1 Comment » // holidays, life

It’s time to end my self imposed holiday hiatus from blogging and end the chapter that is 2010. How do I wrap up an entire year and file it with other memories?

I witnessed several actual and metaphorical trainwrecks this year. Some were slow motion nightmares and others came from nowhere. Mistakes were made and lessons were learned. It will happen again and again.

In all my years of coalitions and committees, this year was the first time I experienced someone working AGAINST the group’s goals by colluding with a troll to make threats against others. I felt naive for allowing it to happen, but I don’t want to let it change my desire to trust, believe and hope.

I spent a lot of this year with family members in hospitals. It’s always a slap in the face that forces you to reconsider what is important. There’s also a kick in the pants to recognize what isn’t important.

This is the first year I can remember when families grew smaller faster than they grew larger. Marriages, births and adoptions were outnumbered by people lost to sickness, sadness and injury. There have been times when the air was so heavy with the suffering of those around me that I felt we might all suffocate. We didn’t.

I have read over and over again today of people kicking 2010 to the curb. “Good riddance.” “Won’t miss you.” “2011 will be better.” I can’t do that. The good, bad and ugly of 2010 is a part of me now. It gave me unwanted wrinkles, scars and weight. It also gave me clarity, strength and calm. I laughed out loud more this year than last year. I memorized moments. I sat still. I listened better. I lived more. I made memories. Thank you 2010.

- – - – - – -

Cross posted 2010 Summary Tweets:
Education – Raising standardized scores by practice testing instead of teaching independent thought and creativity.
Politics – If I point out your racist comments, you call me a liberal.
Old media – We can steal from you, but you can’t steal from us.
Social Media – The year everyone declared themselves gurus while confusing fb with twitter.

my car is magic

// September 22nd, 2010 // 1 Comment » // life, travel

I drive children all over town. This school, that school, scouts, meetings and activities are the dots that I connect day after day. With all that driving, you would think that the gas station is a regular stop on my routes, but it isn’t. My car is magic. It never needs gasoline. Every few days, the gas tank in my car is magically full again. I think it happens at night. I guess the car could be autogenic and generating its’ own fuel. It’s possible that there is another explanation for my bottomless gas tank. Maybe the shoemaker’s elves have branched out into fuel delivery. Perhaps unicorns, leprechauns or mogwai are responsible for keeping my car’s fuel tank full. Regardless of how it happens, the magic never fails to make my day a little easier. Thank you magic car.

laundry quickies

// July 27th, 2010 // No Comments » // Family, life

Two things to move me toward my unintentional evolution into a laundry blogger:

First, I would like my spouse and children to be admitted into the Justice League based on their ability to dematerialize and materialize at will. Evidence of this power is the daily pile of “Night of the Comet” clothing with no evidence of deliberate removal. Socks and undergarments are in the exact location inside the exterior garments that they were when on their bodies. There is no scrunching or rolling, just a neat pile that could only have occurred by the wearer dematerializing. I guess they could be transmutating, but I think that would leave evidence behind, so I’m sticking with the original super power estimation. Just have Superman contact me and we’ll work out details about their admission.

Second, there are now three adult sized males in this house. I have no trouble telling the individuals apart, but their clothing is becoming increasingly indistinguishable. Do you know what makes males act like pre-adolescent girls? Putting the wrong person’s clothing in their closet. “This isn’t mine! Why couldn’t you tell whose it is? Eww, gross. I can’t wear someone else’s socks/pajamas/shirts.” Comparing them to pre-adolescent girls was a bad example, because girls have no problem swapping/sharing clothing. Apparently males consider the possibility of wearing someone else’s clothing an insult. Maybe they’re just worried that their clothing went to another person. I don’t know. I don’t understand either. In my next life, we will have one clothing closet and everything will be sorted by size instead of person. It will make things much easier.

Tuesday v Wednesday

// May 19th, 2010 // 2 Comments » // life

Tuesday night: 200 teenagers
Wednesday night: Doug & I
Tuesday night: poundingly loud music
Wednesday night: quiet voices & tapping keys
Tuesday night: sequins & heels
Wednesday night: jammies & bare feet
Tuesday night: standing & running
Wednesday night: sitting & relaxing
Tuesday night: Good
Wednesday night: Great

it’s a marathon, not a sprint

// May 13th, 2010 // No Comments » // life, mental health, people

There has been far too much death, illness, injury and loss in the social and IRL community that surrounds me lately. In every instance, people have swarmed to support those in need. Then, they slowly drifted to other places where they felt more needed. I’m going to tell you a secret about women. When there is a crisis, adrenalin or something deep inside that they don’t even know is there, kicks in and they do what has to be done. Just as things start to slip back into the new normal and the village of support vanishes, the anvil of reality crushes their soul and pins them down. Life changing events don’t have start and stop dates. They happen and change everything from that point forward. We need to change how we respond to these events. Instead of moving as a wall of support from one crisis to another, we have to spread out and hold hands, like a giant safety net. Check back in on people over and over again. Go the distance.

from Monday’s script

// May 4th, 2010 // 1 Comment » // kid quotes, life, parenting, relatives

click
Me: “What’s that…”
click
Me: “Evan! Stop taking pictures of Mommy.”
Evan: “Why?”
Me: “Never take pictures in the bathroom.”
Evan: “But I’m standing in the hallway.”

“Mom? Why are there X’s wiggling all over your phone?”

“Stop it.”
“You stop it.”
“He won’t quit throwing stuff at me.”
“He threw it first.”
“How am I supposed to leave you in charge when you are acting EXACTLY like a 4-year-old?”

“I’m not using that unisex bathroom. If don’t use the same bathroom as my husband, I’m certainly not using the same one as strange men.”

“His only option is bypass. Times three.”

“Don’t spend money on a box that you’re going to toss in the dirt.”
“Whoever is left behind gets to make that choice. If you want to decide, don’t go first.”

“… and I want you to sell the house and move in with someone who can take care of you and …”

“No tub baths. No driving. No lifting.”
“He’s not listening to you.”
“I know that, but I’m gonna say it anyway.”

“Cathy? I saw your pictures on Twitter and knew you were here somewhere.”

“Did you see the videos from Nashville today?”

“Mom? Can I have a playhouse?”