Why I can't leave Kate alone with art supplies

Yes, she used her nose as a stamp to make a lovely picture.


- Posted using BlogPress from my iPhone

In the kitchen with Kate

I'm not a huge fan of baking. The preciseness and exactness of it has always been a bit of a turn off. Baking powder and baking soda are two different things, a half a cup of sugar is a half a cup of sugar, I can't try using sour cream instead of milk ...

Kate loves baking. Loves it.

She wants to taste and smell and mix everything.

Kate: What does baking soda taste like.
Me: Smell it. You aren't going to like it.
Kate: (smells it) But, what does it taste like
Me: Try it and see Kate
Kate: (tries it) I don't like it.

Kate and I have been busy making Christmas cookies this week and it has been so much fun - messy, sticky, sugary, gooey fun.

My mom and I would always make cookies together around Christmas. She would wait until I got home from college to do them as I got older.

There's something comforting and familiar about making cookies at Christmas, the same ones that we've always made, year after year.

People and places have changed, life has grown more complicated - but, I still always have peanut butter kiss and snowball cookies for Christmas.

It's been a good reminder of what the season is really all about. Family. Memories. Traditions.

And cookies.




- Posted using BlogPress from my iPhone

Everything I need to know, I learned in Kindergarten

David has been a kindergartener for about 4 months now and it has been amazing to see his growth in such a small time period - his writing has improved, his communication skills, manners.

But I think, as his mother and educator for the past 5 years, what I am most proud of is his increased knowledge of bad words. Each new day has brought something new and unexpected, a moment to cherish as I quickly try to figure out what to say in light of his ever increasing vocabulary.

Just today in the car he told me he knew what the "n-word" bad word was (oh yes, that word). When I asked him where he had heard it, he told me it had been in a song on the bus.

What the fuck. How the hell am I supposed to block him from all the shitty things stupid ass people say. Damn it.

But, I digress ...

I've tried to be as open with him as I can about bad words. Explain what they mean (okay, not all of them), explain how the whole concept of a word that you aren't supposed to say is rather silly, explain how we usually don't say them because they are mean.

I arm him with this knowledge and hope he'll make good decisions.
And send him to school where he continues his education.


- Posted using BlogPress from my iPad

(you're welcome)

There are some days where just the thought of having to unload and load the dishwasher again is enough to make me snap. Or stomp my feet. Or think evil thoughts about dishes and the sound they would make shattering.

Today is one of those days.

You have been warned.


- Posted using BlogPress from my iPad

Tales of a smart ass 5 year old

David recently put a sign up on his door with 4 names:

David
Dad
Kate
Mom

These are the people allowed in his room. We occasionally have Kate's friends over when he is at school and, inevitably because they are kids and he has toys in his room, Kate and her friends will venture into his room to play.

Not a big deal, right?

Well, it is to a 5 year old. So he made the sign and it has been hanging on his door.

Kate really pissed him off today. I'm still not entirely sure what she did. I don't even know that he remembers.

This what the sign looked like this morning:





This evening, I pissed David off.

It's not a very exciting story, but did involve juice being spilled all over his floor.

I was cleaning up the juice and noticed David and Kate whispering.

The sign now looks like this:



It was bed time and we were finishing reading books in Kate's room. I told David it was time for bed.

David: Will you come tuck me in?
Me: I thought I wasn't allowed in your room.
David: It doesn't count for bedtime.

As I closed his door, I noticed a new sign:




A bit hard to read but it says:
Only kids in my room and daddy (written at the top)

It's nice to know it doesn't count for bedtime though.

I have no problems handing the cleaning of his room over to daddy.

He can start with the juice on the carpet.

All I want for Christmas ....

Me: Kate, what do you want Santa to bring you this year for Christmas?
Kate: Boobies, poop and doody.

(We've been reading a lot Captain Underpants and Super Diaper Babies)

I am totally getting her fake poop for Christmas.


- Posted using BlogPress from my iPad

Best. App. Ever.

I have the dictionary.com application on my iPad.
Every day I get a pop-up word of the day.

It's awesome.

Sometimes its words I know, like perdition (loss of the soul). And sometimes it's words I can guess the meaning of, like thanatopsis (view or contemplation of death). And sometimes it's words I've never heard, but can't imagine life without, like today's word of the day obscurantism: opposition to the increase and spread of knowledge.

I'm thinking about making flash cards.



- Posted using BlogPress from my iPad

This is the way the world ends

I got a new car.
This is it:



For the past 5 years or so, I've been driving around in a couple of beat-up, purple cars - first my husbands hand me down, then my mother in laws. And, they were great - full of "character." My own personal way of sticking it to the man.

"Ha ha. Behold my purple car. It is rusty. And different. Hear it coming from miles away."

The new car is so shiny. And clean. And it smells nice.

And, looks like every other car in the parking lot.




- Posted using BlogPress from my iPad

When life gives you lemons, ask for a hug

I had a bit of a day yesterday.

It all started out okay. We all got up, got dressed, and got Kate to school.

So far, so good.

Next up was the dentist for David.

And the point where my day declines.

They found a bunch of cavities at his last regular check up and we've been slowly having them filled. And, oh, they found another cavity!
Each time they do they ask a series of questions:
You know, he really needs to brush on a regular basis. Is he brushing is teeth?
Hmmm. It must be all that snacking he does, does he have lots of soda and candy?
Do you ever floss his teeth?

What I hear:
You are a really horrible mother, don't you brush your kids teeth!
I can't believe what you feed this kid. Bad mommy!

So, I may have been brought to tears in the pediatrics dentists office, next to the little chairs with unicorns and rainbows all over the walls.

The dentist asked me if I needed a hug. I declined. But, I feel like I have learned that lesson -- when someone offers a hug, you take it.

What brought on the tears? I think partially frustration. I am in charge of brushing and flossing now, not David, since the cavities. So, I am taking something away from a very independent 5 year old (we also use the words stubborn and strong willed) and the process has been stressful. And, I just can't make him go through getting a cavity filled again. He was a trooper, but, was in tears and crying during parts of the procedure.

So, we get through it, get Kate, get home and enjoy our lunch and a quick trip to grandma and grandpas.

I promise the zoo for the afternoon. Hooray! The zoo!

We get there at 3:08pm. As of November 1 (yesterday) the zoo closes at 3:00pm.

Crap.

Kate is hysterical. (but mommy, you said we could go to the zoo - in between sobs).

Sigh. Totally not my day.

Plan B - a quick trip to the library and then home for dinner.

As I am making dinner, I notice that I can't hear Kate.
I find her in the bathroom. She's had an accident of the messy variety and has tried to clean it and herself up.

Crap.

Literally.

All over.

Look, I'm not going to be graphic, but I think you can imagine how things may have looked.

I somehow manage to get the bathroom cleaned up (You could probably eat off my bathroom floor and tub after all the bleach I used. Not that I would suggest it. It's just too soon.) and dinner made, books read and kids to bed.

I sometimes find myself thinking "I can't."
I can't. I can't. I can't. I cant. I cant.
Yesterday was one of those days.

But, I do.

Today was a bad day, tomorrow will be better.

(and it was)






- Posted using BlogPress from my iPad

Kate-isms

Kate (in her whiny voice): Mom, I can't DO all the things boys do.

Me: What are you talking about Katelynn? What can't you do?

Kate: Boys can do this (insert silly movements) and I CAN'T.

Me: You just did it Kate.

Kate: I know I can, but I'm the most awesomest girl in the world.


- Posted using BlogPress from my iPhone

Okay

So, I changed the name and address of my blog because, quite frankly, the Internet creeps me out a bit.

Why the Chapstick Avenger you ask? (just humor me that you are curious, okay?)

It's my alter ego. I feel it's okay to tell you because I've retired from being a Super Hero.

What's to come you wonder?

Oh, you know ... the same.

- Posted using BlogPress from my iPad

The best part about getting library books is coming home and getting comfy on the couch with them.


- Posted using BlogPress from my iPhone

Kate-isms

Kate (in tears): "It's been a hard day for me."

Me: "It has! Why?"

Kate: "I'm too teeny to do big things."

Oh Kate. I feel that way too sometimes.

- Posted using BlogPress from my iPhone

I think, therefore I'm scared

David has started kindergarten. Which is tremendous and worthy of it's own blogpost.
Just not today.
Well, not in it's entireity today.

His first day home from school, we talked about school.
Where he sat, and what he learned and what his teacher was like and his classmates.
I asked if he made any new friends.

"No," he said.

The new day home from school was more of the same.

Except for this:

"Oh Mom, I did make a friend yesterday when you asked. Gaby. She rides my bus."

Gaby, a girl.

At dinner he started unexpectedly laughing while eating.
He then recounted some fabulously funny story about Gaby and some glue and some wayward letters.

They sit together on the bus on the way home.

Yesterday, he told us a story about Gaby and her big tv.

Does David have his first crush on a girl?

Somehow this makes him seem so much older than starting kindergarten does.

Star Wars Princesses

This game is called Star Wars Princesses. The kids play it every day.
I'm not entirely sure how it works.
But, it involves Star Wars.
And Princesses.


- Posted using BlogPress from my iPad

Dinner tonight will be zucchini with a side of zucchini followed by zucchini dessert

I spent an hour today grating zucchini while David was at school and Kate played with play-doh. It was about as awesome as it sounded. We joined fruit co-op again this year and part of our share this week was a giant bag of zucchini. Part of our share last week was zucchini. Part of our share the week before was zucchini. Part of our share ... Well, you get the picture. When we were kids my parents had a huge garden that seemed to only produce zucchini. My mother couldn't give enough of it away. It became a joke in the neighborhood, how we would be eating zucchini that day. So, tonight I sautéed up some zucchini with tomatoes and sauce. And made some zucchini bread. And remembered home.

This is the game that would not end

 

This was one of Mike's games when he was a boy - The Battle for Hoth. 

David found this in the closet and we decided to play.

The first time we decided to play was a week ago. 

It was a nice day, so we set it up outside and played on the grass.

We played for hours.

And hours. 

And hours. 

No one won. Not even close. 

Darth Vader seemed impossible to beat. 

So, we finally decided to take a break from it and try again another time.

David set it up this morning. 

And won the game in minutes. 

Dark side of the force? 

Destroyed.

Sometimes it helps to change the scenery. 

Catching the sun

Kate and I went swimming at the YMCA yesterday.
Swimming has been one of our favorite things to do this summer.
There's a huge indoor pool at the Y, surrounded by large windows that let patches of sun in.
Kate and I caught the sun yesterday, that came in through the windows, and put it in our pockets.
And took it home with us when we left.
We are going to save it for the next rainy day.

summertime (and the living is easy)

This is my first post in a long time.

All summer actually.

I'm not sure why exactly ...

So, what have we been up to all summer you wonder?

The honest is answer is not much.

Not to say that we are sitting around in our jammies all day hanging out - although we certainly have done that.

Some days are busy.

Saturday, David had t-ball in the morning. And then we ran some errands, stopped by a charity lemonade stand. In the afternoon we went out to Wickham Farms - Mike and David went to the batting cage, Kate and I jumped on the giant pillow. That night we made popcorn and watched The Fantastic Mr. Fox - which we had just finishing reading.

Sunday, we sat around in our jammies all day.

We've all been home together this summer and somehow we've managed it. Not to say that some days all I want to do is scream. Or that we have to separate David and Kate.

But, it's been nice.

It hasn't been amazing.

But, it's been nice.

School is just around the corner. Mike will be going back to work, David starting Kindergarten and Kate starting preschool.

I thrive (THRIVE) on structure and order.

I can feel the new year creeping up on us.

And, I'll miss not doing much with my family.

foreshadowing

Kate and I were off to ice cream on Saturday night.

She needed to change her clothes again.

I threw on a t-shirt.

Kate finished changing her clothes, turned and looked at me.

"Are you going to change your clothes? Is that what you are wearing?"

I get these visions sometimes of 16 year old Kate.

(lord, help us all)

T-ball

Davids first day of T-ball was Saturday.
Our instructions were to be on the field by 8:30am to pick our team, but had plans to meet a friend there a little early, around 8:15am, to make sure we got on the same team.
David and Mike were dressed, breakfasted and ready to leave the house by 7:30am.

We were one of the first cars in the parking lot.

David and Ryan joined the Nationals.
They got "official" t-shirts and hats.
(fun fact: David has only taken his hat off to sleep at night)

Team selection was followed by some chaotic opening day ceremonies.

And then practice.

The boys practiced catching, fielding, hitting, running the bases.

Mike helped the 2 coaches with the boys - directing them where to go, how to hold their gloves, reminding them to pay attention to the ball.

Kate and I sat on the sidelines with some of the other parents.

(Baseball is sort of a big deal in our house.)

As we were walking back to the car after practice, we talked about the drills David was learning, the new friends he made on his team, how much fun he had.

"You were great out there today, David. It looked like you had a fun time!"

I turned to my husband, who had been quiet most of the way back to the car.

"I think Daddy had a good day today too."

Mike smiled.
(fun fact: Mike doesn't really smile.)
"Yes," he said "I had a good day today too."

Davidball

David loves baseball.

I say that sometimes and I get an, "Oh, that's nice" response.

Maybe if I write it in caps ...

David LOVES baseball.

We will play for hours in the backyard -- sometimes he'll just "work" on something specific: bunting, sliding, hitting from both sides of the plate, pitching. And sometimes we will play "real" games.

Now, he may love (LOVE) baseball, but he's also only 5.

And he understands the rules enough to manipulate them to his advantage so he doesn't lose.

He gets 100 balls and 100 strikes.

A recent game score: Me - 1, Him - 119

If he hits the ball in the shed, it counts for 5 points.

There is no such things as a foul, unless I am at bat.

I have to simultaneously touch him and the base for it to be an out.

If he slides into second, he is automatically safe.

It always reminds me of Calvinball from Calvin and Hobbes -- You never know when the rules are going to change. Or what the new rules will be.

(neat fact: David's middle name was to be Hobbes, after the tiger, until I mentioned it to people near the end of my pregnancy and everyone told me how much they hated it. Never tell hormonal, pregnant women that you hate anything.)

Which is why Kate and her magic wand (a stick she "swish-de-swooshes" to turn it magical) fits in so nicely too. And makes Davidball even more interesting.

If Kate uses her magic wand on the ball, it is an automatic home run.

If she is holding her magic wand, she can go from first to third.

If she "swish-de-swooshes" the ball with her wand while the pitcher is holding it, it is an automatic strike.

Magic Kate will occasionally "steal" bases (here meaning literally pick them up and run with them).

Davidball is actually really fun.

(and how I will be spending my summer)

Mother's Day

Some things I love about my mom, in honor of Mother's Day:

(look, sorry about this, but, I am really into numbered lists lately)

1. Her vast knowledge of show tunes. And, her ability to sing them at the oddest moments.

It is a gift I am passing on to my own children - Kate in the bath will occasionally break out into "I'm gonna wash that man right out of my hair ... "

2. I tease her a bit about this, but she is one of my biggest fans. Always quick with compliments and support - that I usually tell her is part of her job description as mom. (but, I'll let you in on a bit of a secret ... as a mom, I now know we compliment and support because we really do mean it)

3. Always accepting .... I became a vegetarian at 14, I think in a way to rebel a bit - my mothers response was that we should all eat a bit healthier. I don't think dyeing my hair pink got any sort of a negative response. Neither did tattoos.

4. She is confident in who she is as a person. It's refreshing. And, was a fantastic model growing up and still as an adult.

5. She's a friend. Someone I can talk to and laugh with.

And, really, who could ask for anything more?

a numbered list

Some things I have learned as a parent:

1. Peanut butter and jelly tastes much better when served with a spoon of peanut butter. As do apples, bananas, waffles, cereal and pretzels.

2. The cookie club at Wegmans may be the best thing that Wegmans has ever come up with. Ever.

3. Biggest pet peeves: having to ask my children a million times to do something AND markers missing tops.

4. There is a bedtime "window" - missing it is serious trouble.

5. shower + kids watching tv show = 5 minutes of peace and quiet

6. I can't fix everything. Although I really would like to be able to some days.

7. No matter how great of an idea I think I have for a project to do with the kids - it will probably not go as planned. Best to not have a plan.

8. Teletubbies is some weird shit.

9. As crazy as they occasionally make me, as much as I sometimes need just need 5 minutes to myself - I will always respond when they call "mom" (even at 2 am) because they need me and I am their mom.

10. Nothing (nothing) sounds as good as David & Kate laughing.

Moooo

In the car on the way home from Mike's parents last night ...

David: "okay Mom, you have to speed up to 40mph"
me: Thank you David

I take a right hand turn

David: "Oh. Mom. I think ... yeah, you have to speed down to 35. I think you are going 40."
me: Thank you David

I take a left hand turn

David: "You can speed up to 40 now."
me: Thank you David

I take a right hand turn

David: "Oh. Mom. Yup. You have to speed down to 35 now. You're still going 40."
me: Thank you David

We have a GPS that I will occasionally set to notify Mike or I when we are speeding by mooing (yes, mooing - like a cow).

It's funny. And regulatory. And a bit annoying.

Switching to a 36 hour day

So.
I am thinking about switching to a 36 hour day.
I think it's the only way to go.

There are currently 2 loads of laundry in the kitchen waiting to be folded
Clothes in the washer (that should probably be washed again because I am not sure how long they have been sitting there)
Dishwasher to be emptied
Bathroom is primed, still needs to be painted (and put back together)
Kate emptied her dresser of clothes today in anticipation of getting out summer clothes

sigh

and all other stuff ...

cleaning up dinner, getting kids baths, picking up toys, sweeping the sand off the floor (after Kate gave herself a sand-shower today),

Okay, okay. So, I am currently on the computer, wasting precious minutes out of my measly 24 hour day. Did I mention that we spent the day outside (wasting more minutes)? Kate made sun-angels and gave herself sand showers. David and I played baseball.

right ...
So. It's settled. 36 hours in a day.
Just give me 36 hours so I can get it all done
and manage 5 minutes for myself.

fences make good neighbors

Our neighbor across the street may have passed away.

I think he had been sick, but to be honest I don't really know.

There had been signs of "something" going on

We live on a fairly busy road

Which we chose primarily for the privacy

And our huge backyard

I grew up in a cookie cutter development in suburbia
We always left our garage door unlocked

Because everyone knew everyone

We could sit on our deck and see the neighborhood
(and the neighborhood could see us)

But ...

I could ride my bike anywhere I wanted in my development,
I just had to step outside to find other kids to hang out with

And there was always something sort of comforting about entering a home that looked sort of like your own

I fell once while working and fractured my wrist. My parents weren't home at the time, so I went to my neighbor - who was a nurse. She took me for X-Rays.

You always knew what was going on in the neighborhood
the good and the bad
(because everyone knew everyone)

You definitely knew when someone passed away

And, that is difference

(Before I built a wall I’d ask to know
What I was walling in or walling out,
And to whom I was like to give offence.
from Mending Wall by Robert Frost)

post-apocolyptic feminism revisited

While watching the Butler - VCU game last night, Kate asked me "What sports do girls play?"

Well, they can play all the same sports that boys do, we just don't usually watch them ...

I said the statement as fact and then realized that maybe I should have thought of a way to say that a bit better. Because, of course, Kate's next question was ...

"Why?"

(There's a family guy scene where Peter is mocking women's basketball. I forget what the actual episode is about. They flash to a women's basketball game, one of the announcers is commenting about the strain on the players bodies and another wonders if it's worth the $7,000 a year she commands. "You would have to ask the fan." The one fan in the stands cheers.)

"I don't know Kate."

We watch baseball, basketball, soccer on tv - but, only mens. The simplest conclusion must be that women don't play sports.

I forget sometimes how the world must look to her and David.
I started thinking about the broader picture, of girls and boys, of choices and perceptions ...

And so - I don't know.

(My first job out of college was at a consulting firm. At the time I was hired, another female engineer was hired as well. That brought the total number of female engineers of the firm of about 50 to 2.)

I don't know that the world will change much in a generation.
The simplest conclusion, is, well that reality is a bit more complex.

I hope I can instill in Kate that there is nothing she can't do.
Whether she has one fan or many.


Update:

We watched the Western New York Flash take on the Boston Breakers on Sunday.
When the game first came on, Kate was amazed.
"It's glrls! Glrls are playing!"
She could have cared less about the game though.
She could really care less about watching most sports on tv.
David thought it was great though -- it was soccer and it didn't really matter who was playing.

an ode to the internet

David randomly asked me on the way to school today if there were 72 suns.

?

No, there is just one sun I explained.

"How is it day time in all different places then?"

We skype with my brother and sister-in-law in Seattle quite a bit, so I can understand the confusion.

I tried explaining to him how it all worked. I was driving at the time ... I thought I did an okay job. Until he asked, "So, then there are 8 suns - one for each planet?"

"No, just one sun .... "

"So, there are just 8 planets and 1 sun in the sky?"

(insert light bulb over mom's head)

"When you get home today lets look it up on the internet together. Maybe we can find some pictures to help explain it a bit better."

oh internet - how do I love thee
you make me seem smarter
than I'll ever be

the apple doesn't fall far ...

I remember as a kid, my mom asking me to get my brothers for dinner, or whatever ...
They would be upstairs in their room and I would be downstairs.
I would go to the bottom of the stairs and yell up to them.
"Paaaaaaaaaaaaaaaaaatrickkkkkkkkkkkkkkkkkk."
"Connnnnnnnnnnnnnnnnnorrrrrrrrrrrrrrrrrrrrrr."

Mom: "Jennifer, I could have done that. Go upstairs and get them."

Today, lunch was at the table and so was Kate.
I asked Kate to tell David that lunch was ready.
Our house is a bit different - it's a cape, so the kids bedroom are on the first floor.
So, Kate assumed she really didn't even have to move from the table.
"DAVID. LUNCH TIME."

I laughed and before I could even stop the words, they were coming out of my mouth ...
"Katelynn, I could have done that."

It's Art?

David and Kate just performed an amazing story for me.
I thought I'd share.

Let me set the scene for you ....

Picture a giant tower, containing many princesses.

David as the narrator, tells the story of Elmo, the monster who was looking for such a tower.
Elmo knocks it down, finds the tiny princesses in hiding and eats them.

(the best was Kate, jumping up and down beside me, "He missed a princess. Oh, he got it - eat her!!")

It ends with Elmo, having eaten all the princesses, dying.

I've been told that part 2 is being staged as we speak.

my favorite thing about the weekends

I always look forward to weekends.
Yes, it's nice to relax.
Yes, it's nice to not be rushing off somewhere.

What's really nice though is having an extra set of hands around the house.
Someone to help with the constant-ness of children.

We have a first floor shower.
During the week, I usually pop on a tv show in the morning for David and Kate so I can quickly shower.
As soon as I get in, it usually starts.
"Mom, I need a drink ..."
"Mom, Kate is bugging me ... "
"Mom, David stole my blanket ... "
"Mom, .... "
"Mom. Mom. Mom."

My response is usually something like, "Can I just have 5 minutes. I will be right out."

Yesterday, Sunday, a lovely weekend day ... I had just stepped in the shower when I heard banging on the door.

Kate: "Mom, I need you. MOM. MOM. I really neeeeeeeeed you."
Me: "What it is Kate?"
Kate: "Can I have some pink milk?"
(this is my favorite part coming up)
Me: "Could you maybe ask Daddy to get it for you Kate? I think he's right in the kitchen."

sigh.

So. I still get pestered. And that's okay.
But, it's nice to not feel completely responsible, if only for a couple minutes.

by default

Kate woke up screaming last night.
She had a nightmare about spiders crawling all over her, her bed.
She wouldn't go back in her room.
In my still sort of asleep stupor, I actually thought for a second that maybe there were spiders all over her bed.

shudder

I hate spiders.
Truly, seriously hate spiders.

And now Kate is having nightmares about them.

I try so hard to keep my own fears and anxieties from my children, but I just can't help them seeping out.

Of course, I put on my brave face ... but, approaching the spiders we occasionally find in the house for squishing and removal is done tentatively.

And. As freaked out as I get by spiders, its something I can solve.
I can physically remove her fear.
I can point out, when she awakes from a nightmare, that there are no spiders in her room crawling all over her.

Now, David has not inherited my fear of spiders. Or snakes (don't get me started on snakes ... ).

David has had a lot of anxiety lately - new things, old things. He seems to want to avoid places with lots of people, especially people he isn't familiar with.

Which is one of my anxieties as well. And I see the emotions in him. And remember the emotions in me. And I wonder if I encouraged the anxiety in him without realizing it.

And I don't know how to fix it.
I can't squish his fears and remove them from the house.

Post - Apocalyptic Feminism

"take away her mop and broom,
treat her to a jacuzzi room"

That was what a sign said outside a hotel on the way up to college.
My first job after college was for a consulting firm that did a lot of business in the North Country and I would pass that sign every couple months.
Oh, would it infuriate me.
My post college self could not wrap its head around the concept.
Take away her mop and broom ...
Of all the male dominated, chauvinistic society things to say.

Post College Self: "insert angry comments about how it is not the woman's place to do all the sweeping, mopping, cleaning and maybe something about how no self respecting woman would be thankful for being rewarded for cleaning up after you."

sigh.

And, now.

Gosh, doesn't that sound just lovely ...

No mop. No broom.
Maybe a good book.
A nice soak in a jacuzzi.

Post children self would appreciate the gesture.

(note post children self backtracking on above argument ... )
It's not like I enjoy cleaning.
It just has to be done.
And, as mom, and a stay-at-home one (more or less), my home has become work.
And, I really do love my job.
And, a vacation from any job (especially one with a gigantic jacuzzi) is nice.

And.

I'm just not the same person I was 10 years ago.

Consider me Jen Version 2.0 - same great Jen, but a bit more user friendly.