Blog-sausted.

Judging by my plummeting stats, you all are feeling the same about this blog as I am – bleh. I hear ya. I’m just not that into it either, so no offense taken.

I’ve been putting a lot of energy into my new lifestyle of waking up, working out, cleaning the house, and going to bed. I was not prepared for how exhausted strenuous exercise would make me, but at least during round two of weight lifting my muscles are not sore. There is yet hope for getting into shape.

I’ve also been putting a lot of energy into other writing projects. I’m exploring the possibilities, but I may have a collection of essays available in the next few months. We’ll see what time and circumstances allow for.

In the meantime, head on over to my NaBloPoMo page where I am reflecting on Thirty Things I Love. It’s been a very therapeutic process, and a welcomed break from my usual worried-email-inspiring posts here. This week I wrote about Fall, Coffee (my personal favorite of the week), Getting Organized, and Sleeping.

Not your average trip to the dentist

You know how you go to the dentist and every. single. time. they give some schpeal about flossing, and you’re like, yeah, whatever. And you know how they give you that little goodie bag filled with a new toothbrush and a roll of floss, not realizing that you have about eight rolls of floss in your bathroom cabinet from the last four years’ worth of dentist appointments?

Yeah, well, I suggest you don’t do what I do.

Today I got hit hard with a You’ve got the beginnings of gingivitis lecture, informing me that if I don’t take better care of my teeth I will soon get gum disease, which is irreversible and expensive to treat.

Yeah, I heard that loud and clear. So if you’ll excuse me, I need to close the laptop and floss my teeth.

Help.

Adding yet another set of dried out markers to the land fills of this Earth. My kids will not keep the caps on their markers, and Ruthie refuses to color with crayons.

Any ideas? Because at this point I’d rather keep the markers and toss out the kids.

Divine Intervention

I went to the gym yesterday, then after dinner the kids and I walked to the library and the cupcake shop. By the time I got everyone settled into bed I was too exhausted to clean the kitchen, and my shin splints hurt too much to stand up anyway. So for the first time in a couple weeks I spent the evening on the couch watching t.v. – a recorded episode of Austin City Limits with the Decemberists (a lack of cable has returned me to my geeky love for PBS).

And just now as I think about how I spent my evening, I do not feel overwhelmed or guilty. I still had a basket of laundry to fold, and dishwasher to empty, and a kitchen to clean – but given the hard day’s work I had already put in, it just seems logical that I did what I could and rested in the fact that today I can finish.

This is a much different feeling from times past, when I shuffle about all day not knowing where the time has gone, and feeling stressed that I have so much left undone. I think I knew deep down that I was dragging my feet and allowing myself to be distracted.

I’ve been reading Proverbs lately, which is a book full of wisdom for the wise and warnings for the foolish. Here is what struck me in the last couple weeks:

The one who stays on the job has food on the table; the witless chase whims and fancies (Proverbs 12:11).

The diligent find freedom in their work; the lazy are oppressed by work (Proverbs 12:24).

A lazy life is an empty life, but “early to rise” gets the job done (Proverbs 12:27).

After resting on the couch, I just assumed I would get a second wind and be able to get up and do what needed to get done. But when Bryan turned in around 9:45, I decided to follow him up to bed and watch t.v. until I fell asleep. But who am I fooling when I think this? What usually happens is that I stay awake long enough to watch Sex and the City reruns at 11, then I might as well watch the beginning of Letterman at 11:30, and before I know it it’s midnight and I’ll be hitting the snooze button in six hours.

Well, last night my cable mysteriously went out when I went to bed (we have the very basic cable that gives us a clear picture for all 15 channels we get), so all I saw was static. It was just working fine downstairs, and this morning it’s working as well. But last night I think God must have pulled the plug to prove a point, because I fell asleep right away, and when my alarm went off at 6am I bounced right out of bed.

Today I have decided to stay home from the gym. I hope this doesn’t start a dangerous pattern of playing hooky the rest of the week, but it’s the first morning that my shins have not hurt, and I’d like to give them a day to completely heal. So if you think about it, check up on me tomorrow to make sure I made it in again!

facebook: undecided

facebook.gifI don’t really understand the point of Facebook. I mean, if I have a blog, and if I have Twitter, do I really need another personal website to keep up with? Perhaps if I could use it to catalog all my movie and book reviews, and link to it from my blog for your enjoyment, I would find it useful. But one is not able to access my Facebook page unless one is already a Facebook member and adds me as a friend.

I’ve actually found more old friends through my blog than I have through Facebook. So perhaps Facebook is a great tool for those without other social network tools at their disposal?

The other thing I find creepy is that everything you do on Facebook gets recorded in your profile, such as, “JenZug updated her profile picture,” or “JenZug wrote on so-and-so’s wall: “insert message I wrote here, for all of facebook to read,” or “JenZug joined the group, Masturbator’s annonymous.”

You really have to be careful of what you do in there.

The boring, Stay At Home Mom post.

This has been a hard, busy, tiring week – one of those weeks when you eat dinner on the fly because you have to be somewhere by 7, one of those weeks when you hardly look at your computer because you are never home. If I haven’t responded to your email, I’m sorry. And if you’re a long lost friend who’s comment I haven’t replied to yet, I’m sorry (Hi Gigi! Hi Ashley!). I’ll get to it eventually! And Cherie, I got your message, and that totally sounds like it will be fun for the kids!

Nothing like a blog to provide a forum for mass communication to all my friends. I feel lame.

And now I will report on shoe shopping, because I know that’s what you’re all dying to hear about. With all this working out I’ve been doing, my adrenaline gets going and I’ve actually been running. But the running shoes I have are from before Thomas was born, which is a big no-no. My knees were starting to feel it, so I walked over to my neighborhood Big 5 Sports to buy a new pair and found mounds of boxes and no sales person. I tried on a pair I though fit well, and took them home.

Today during my run I started to feel shin splints.

After today’s workout I called my friend Jenny, because she knows where to buy running shoes. And boy, does she! The fine folks at Roadrunner Sports set me up on a treadmill where I jogged barefoot as they monitored my gait with video equipment. I also stepped across a pressure sensor that mapped out an infrared reading of where my foot feels the least and most pressure as I take a step. I wish I’d had may camera with me so I could show you these cool things, but alas, it is broken.

Turns out I have a fairly high arch and a pretty severe overpronation problem (my ankles roll inward over my arches), which explains the shin splints from the wimpy shoes. So I am now set up with a brand new pair of Nike shoes that were very reasonably priced, all while my kids played with the toys on hand at the store.

Wow! What more could a mom ask for.

That’s about all I have the energy to report. I’m feeling very depleted creatively, and even passed on posting at the Vox Pop Network this week. I put something up by my friend, Amy, instead. It’s very good – you should go read it.

All hail All-Clad (and Macy’s)

A couple years ago my dad and step mom bought us some really nice All-Clad pans for Christmas. They know how much I love to cook, and nobody else in my family really enjoys cooking like I do, so these pans were an the awesomest Christmas present ever. I was very, very grateful.

But last night I took two of the fry pans back to Macy’s because they are non-stick, and I have decided that no matter how nice the pan is, non-stick is CRAP. I was hoping I could walk into Macy’s with my food-encrusted, VERY STICKY pans, and rationally expect to exchange them for their stainless steel equals.

The first girl who helped me was “new here,” which I’m beginning to think is code for “I don’t know what the hell to do with your request,” since everywhere I go I seem to be running into the new employees. She looked at my food-encrusted, VERY STICKY pans and said, and I quote, “These have been used.”

I was tempted to step into Demanding and Bitchy Customer mode, but the night was young so I further explored more diplomatic options.

“Yes, I realize these have been used. They are high quality pans that are quite expensive, and I would think one could expect more out of them than this.”

She called in a manager, but informed me that many managers have left for the night, leaving only one per floor. Because of this, the manager that came to help me was from the cosmetics department.

She, too, looked at my pans and said, “These have been used.”

Once again, I tucked my Demanding and Bitchy self into my back pocket and said, “There must be something you can do, because I can’t imagine All-Clad being content with this quality of pan.”

Then the Cosmetics Manager pulled through for me. She says, “I’ll have to check the information for All-Clad. If they have a lifetime warranty I will have no problem exchanging your pans.”

Jackpot. Right on the box of every pan are the words, LIFETIME WARRANTY.

The Cosmetics Manager returned my pans, rang up my new stainless steel pans, and issued me an in-store credit for the difference! Yes, I actually came out a little ahead in the exchange. How far do you think $30 will go in the housewares department?

I still think these were the awesomest gifts ever, because I was basically cooking on aluminum pans I’d purchased at the thrift store before I was married. Now I know that NON-STICK IS NOT THE WAY TO COOK, and will stick to stainless steel (ha! pun intended).

Incidentally, Macy’s had an extremely low inventory of non-stick All-Clad, so it seems somebody else is also getting the picture.

Cue eerie music in the background of this scene…

During a string of particularly bad days concerning Ruthie’s behavior this summer, I vented to my girlfriend that I thought I was raising a future serial killer. At the time she was bullying and intimidating other kids, and finding great enjoyment in watching the reaction of others as they writhed in frustration under her torturous powers.

It’s like an experiment to her, a social experiment – perhaps she’s on the road toward a sociology research degree. Or maybe it’s pure entertainment and all she needs is a comfy chair and a bag of popcorn.

Regardless, I really do think she enjoys pushing other people’s buttons, then watching the ensuing explosion. Reducing others (including her mother) to a fit of tears is her idea of a good time. And the remorse? Oiy, the lack of remorse is, at best, disturbing.

So I vented to my friend, exaggerating, I’m sure, in my emotionally heightened feelings of failure as a mother – wondering, also, which gene pool this behavior came from.

The very pragmatic advice my friend gives me?

“Eh, you shouldn’t worry. If she starts torturing small animals, THEN you have something to worry about.”

Um, do TOY animals count in that equation???

Isn't Animal Mutilation a sign of psychopathic behavior?

Iteration

I find it much too coincidental that the word ‘irritation’ so closely resembles the word ‘iteration,’ because when Bryan continually tells me that we should ‘iterate’ through our schedules and lists, I feel quite ‘irritated.’ Nevertheless, I’ve learned to love and appreciate his project management of the home even though I am much more free spirited (read:unorganized) than he is. In the end, I usually end up affirming his methods, but only after stubbornly refusing (for weeks and months) to even consider them.

Maybe it’s not for you, but this system seems to works for us.

For awhile now, I’ve been setting my alarm and getting up before the kids. Theoretically. About the earliest I can get out of bed is 6:30 – and that’s after snoozing through NPR for 30 minutes, so I usually wake up around 6. Ruthie is our early riser, and wakes up anywhere between 6:30 and 7:30. Let me tell you that mornings do not go well for anyone around here when I rise at the butt crack of dawn to have some ‘alone time’ and instead find my eldest hanging on my clothes asking me for cereal. And candy.

Last week, however, I iterated. Instead of getting up early to curl up in my chair with a book and a cup of coffee, I decided to sit at the dining room table with my laptop and a cup of coffee. I now start my morning in household management mode, planning the day, returning emails, knocking stuff off my to-do list… you get the idea.

It has changed the way mornings feel around here.

For one thing, I’m not flying by the seat of my pants all day, wishing I had remembered to do This and That and wondering at 4pm what I should make for dinner. Secondly, I’m not in Selfish Time Hording Mode when my Early Riser wakes up just as I sit down to read. That was the worst: seeing my daughter first thing in the morning and immediately wishing I had exercised better use of birth control. She’s adorable, and I didn’t like that icky feeling of not thinking she is adorable.

My kids still watch over an hour of t.v. in the morning because I am still NOT a morning person, so this is how I choose to acclimate myself to the day.

How do you start your day?

My little theologian

The other morning Thomas tumbled down the front steps at my friend’s house, scraping his chin, lip, and nose, and he had an impressive splash of blood across his face to initiate him officially into boyhood. Ruthie was extremely helpful during this fiasco, running back up to the front door just like I asked her to, knocking, and getting something from my friend to clean his face. She was very cooperative and concerned, which impressed me, because when she is in an obstinate mood it is just these kinds of moments I imagine will be a disaster: me comforting one bloody child while the other runs screaming into the middle of the street.

It proved my theory that Ruthie is capable of following directions.

In the car on the way home, Ruthie – who had been obsessing over her need to have candy all morning – says to me, “But MOM! Jesus says in our heart that we should have a treat because I was a great helper!”

I like that, appealing to Jesus as her intercessor. Even if her works-based theology needs a little tweaking, at least she’s getting it on some level!

…and it was smote.

I have dreaded this day since that fateful conversation about canceling our cable, and it has now arrived. Funny thing is, it’s not really as big a deal as I made it to be in my head.

Our cable was reduced to basic reception on Saturday, but none of us has been the wiser. The kids watched a little PBS this morning while I got ready, then were content to have a tea party and play outside. Last night I had too much on my mind to sleep, but there was nothing good on t.v. to distract me. So I popped Steel Magnolias into the VCR and was out in twenty minutes.

As long as I can watch episodes of FX’s The Shield online, I should be just fine.

Off the Deep End

I think I’ve officially spilled over the edge into Manic Organization Mode, considering I just spent an entire nap making chore charts for Ruthie. Watch out, I just might become a home schooler.

chore chart close up

Ruthie will get stickers each day she completes the chores and is generally respectful, kind, and fun, and she will learn a new Bible verse every two weeks. I’m trying to decide whether she should get an extra special treat if she fills in all (or most) of her stickers at the end of 14 days. Any suggestions on how to work that?

I made the chart using legal sized printer paper, and have a template I can just trace when I need a new one. It is simply taped to the pink card stock so I can easily switch to the new chart at the end of fourteen days.

Also, Ruthie woke up and colored next to me while I finished the chart, and now both kids are sitting with me as I write this post. All this happy togetherness is making my uterus twitch!

[p.s. – thanks to my friend, Sarah, for the Be Kind, Be Respectful, and Be Fun to Be Around goals!]

S… S… Oh bother, I just can’t say it.

It’s been a crazy weekend, but it’s time to get back to some respectable blogging again.

Now that summer is ending and preschool starts next week, I’m entertaining that nasty S word again: STRUCTURE. I figure maybe I’ll add things into my week slowly – like one new thing each week – that way I don’t experience the depressing crash after the manic high of organization. I’m hoping to be more successful that way.

So this week I added in Library Day. This morning we donned our rain slickers and rain boots and walked four blocks to our local library where the kids picked out new picture books and I chose some yoga videos. I also checked out Winnie the Pooh with the intention of reading a chapter each day to the kids – so I guess that’s actually two things I added this week.

I’ve tried having a Library Day in the past, and only ended up incurring high fines for overdue books because I never managed to make it back again. This time I made a commitment to the idea by putting the event on my calendar, and for some reason this is more like marriage to me instead of just living together.

I’ll let you know how it goes.

yard sale

baby shoes 1When I first moved here from Minnesota, my friend kept going on and on about how much fun yard sale-ing is. I’m a bit slow to begin with, but I really did picture some sort of bicycle or go cart rigged with a big sail on it – as in Yard Sailing – because in Minnesota we had Garage Sales. It was one of those embarrassing misunderstandings I never ever told anyone.

Until now. Blogs are good for that.

That same friend is having her own yard sale this weekend, and she said I could bring some of my stuff to sell, So finally I went through the tubs of Ruthie’s old baby clothes that I just haven’t been able to part with. I’m much more sentimental about her baby clothes than I am with Thomas’ clothes. She’s a girl. She’s my first. She has clothes picked out by Gordy.

She had an amazing shoe collection.

I sorted and resorted about three times into different piles. Sell, consign, keepsake, next baby. WHAT?! I kept shifting outfits around into various piles, and somehow everything that wasn’t a sock ended up in the ‘next baby’ pile. I’m not even sure who intervened in this process to create a ‘next baby’ pile, because I have said from the first puke of Thomas’ pregnancy that I am DONE with babies coming out of my body.

(Maybe.)

Regardless, I can’t afford the space all these clothes are taking up, so I filled four paper grocery bags with clothes to sell, one bag of clothes to consign, and one filled with clothes I can’t bear to part with because I can still see her cute little evil face up to no good wearing that ridiculously adorable pink and red Ralph Lauren sweater from my dad.

If there ever is a ‘next baby,’ she’s screwed.

Open Letter to Classmates.com

Dear Classmates.com,

Please stop sending me emails telling me that so-and-so is trying to contact me, when I can’t access so-and-so’s message until I give you forty dollars. I am not going to give you forty dollars. I am not going to give you one penny. And frankly, I haven’t thought about so-and-so in seventeen years, but now that I know there is a secret message for me from so-and-so that I am not allowed to access until I give you forty dollars, I am now thinking about so-and-so all. the. time.

So, thanks for that.

Sincerely,
Jennifer (Anderson) Zug
Edina Class of 1990