They say that knowing you have a problem is half the battle. How about knowing you are the problem?

Last night at dinner, Bill and I were discussing children, in general, and difficulties, in general, about having them around.

“He’s not the problem,” I said, nodding in Pete’s direction. I didn’t say who was the problem, I didn’t even stare at the offending party or parties. But Bill and I traded knowing looks across the dining room table.

“I’m the problem,” said Jenny.

“Hmmm…do you think you might someday not be a problem?” I asked.

“Nope,” said Jenny.

Great. We may know we have a problem, but the problem is unwilling to change…and that’s a problem.

(for 12 to 15 month old children and their parents)

Aiyahaahh!!!: 1. A phrase, usually, accompanied with pointing gestures, meaning, “I want that, and I want it now!”

Choo-Choo: 1. Train. 2. The sound a train makes. 3. A phrase meaning, “I am trying to play with my train, why do you insist on trying to change my diaper instead?” 4. A phrase meaning, “No, I won’t take a nap, I want to play with my train.” 5. A phrase meaning, “I want to play with my trains here in this room, but I am lonely. Stay with me or send me a playmate.”

Daddy: 1. Father. 2. A phrase meaning, “I want my father.”

Doggy: 1. Greta. 2. Any other canine.

Eeeyaahaa!: 1. A phrase meaning, “Get me out of this high chair right now.”

Hat: 1. Something worn on the head. 2. A phrase meaning, “No, I won’t wear that.” 3. A phrase meaning, “Look, what I stole from my sister! It looks so much better on me, don’t you think?”

Juice: 1. A beverage made from fruit. 2. Any beverage. 3. A phrase meaning, “I am thirsty, please may I have something to drink?”

Nose: 1. An organ found in the middle of the face used for smelling. 2. A phrase meaning, “Look where I can stick my finger to elicit funny faces and complaints from all my family members.” 3. A phrase meaning, “Bring your face a little closer so I can see how far my finger fits in there.”

Ow: 1. An exclamation of pain. 2. A phrase meaning, “I need a kiss right here because I fell down.”

Shoes: 1. Clothing worn on the feet. 2. A phrase meaning, “Let’s play the switch-footwear game for the next hour!” 3. A phrase meaning, “Good morning, how are you? I’m well rested and can’t wait to start the day. Please get me dressed immediately! See, there are my shoes! Breakfast can wait!”

Stinky: 1. A phrase meaning, “I need a diaper change badly.” 2. A phrase meaning, “I need a diaper change badly, try and catch me!”

Unhunhunh: 1. A phrase meaning, “I am trying to climb on this chair to reach that high place. Why are you standing there watching me and not helping me?”

If you need a good laugh, go over to Happy Catholic’s site and check out the YouTube clip there. I have no idea how to bring it over here.

Back in April, I described an interview I had with a man regarding my neighbor who was seeking a high level security clearance. Did I know if he ever tried to overthrow the government? Does he have any foreign interests?

At the time, Bill was filling out a form for a similar clearance. A few days ago, Bill had a face-to-face interview with a woman who went over his form line by line and asked him about every single response.

You didn’t write your mother’s maiden name down? Why? Are you hiding something?

Oh, no, sorry. I guess I missed that line.

And then she wrote down that he claimed to have forgotten to fill that part in.

Why didn’t you write your wife’s address in this section?

It says to give the wife’s address if we are divorced or separated. We’re still married, and my wife lives with me.

You should have written N/A.

And then she wrote down that he felt the section didn’t apply to him.

This went on for one agonizing hour. Then she wanted to talk to somebody who has known him since he began working in the building. He called up to his buddy, Brian, with whom he worked for over a year. They shared a desk – literally sat inches away from each other. All phone conversations with my husband that year were three-way conferences by default.

Brian was interviewed in private, but shared some of the better questions with Bill afterward. Basically, they seemed the same as the ones I answered about my neighbor last spring. What makes this particularly amusing is the timing of certain questions.

Not this Saturday, but next, we’re having our Third Annual Oktoberfest. Brian attended last year’s party, and has already RSVP’s for the upcoming event. So far, I have 60 people marked as coming (half of them kids), but I expect more will be calling me over the next few days. Last year we had about 85 people.

The invitation this year, all my design – Bill had nothing to do with it, is full of quotes on the glory of drinking beer. I actually, personally, can’t stand the stuff, but it was a funny invitation. Bill suggested that it was too much about beer, so I added a post script: It’s not all about beer. We’ll have wine and schnapps, too. I thought that was even funnier.

For me, it’s all about the food. I’m making Sauerbraten, Hot Potato Salad, and Red Cabbage among other things. Since the vast bulk of our guests are military-types, many of whom have done tours in Germany, my yummy cooking is a big hit. But, honestly, so is the keg of Spaten beer.

And with full knowledge, as a past attendee, of the upcoming festivities, Brian is asked questions like: Does he ever throw parties? Does he ever drink?

Hmmm…

For all those women who think they could “never” handle more than one or two kids, here‘s a study that suggests the more kids you have, the better a mother you become (if you are a rat, that is):

Hormonal changes occurring in female rats after they give birth to and nurse their offspring may cause long-term endocrine and neuroendocrine changes that help produce better mothering skills with each pregnancy and reduce the mother’s anxiety levels as she matures, according to scientists at Cummings School of Veterinary Medicine at Tufts University and the University of Otago Medical School.

From Danielle Bean, who really should be napping with her 11 day old son instead of blogging.

Bill’s all set to win some stuffed toys for the girls next time a carnival comes through town.

His job requires him in the office by 6 AM. Since “rush-hour” begins in this area before 5 am, he needs to leave here between 515 and 530 am to get there in time. Last night, not atypically, he got home at 8 pm. By the time he walked the dog, ate dinner, and glanced through the mail, it was time for bed. This is our sad, usual routine which affords us about 6 hours of sleep before the alarms start going off at 4 am.

Alarms…with an “s”.

Bill is a heavy sleeper normally, and when he routinely gets only 6 hours of it, there is no way he will respond to one alarm the first time it goes off. He once had a roommate who would immediately wake up and get out of bed at the first alarm. Bill’s solid 45 minutes of hitting the snooze button drove him crazy. Heck, 45 minutes of interrupted sleep drives me crazy too, and he starts getting jabbed in the ribcage after the second or third snooze alarm. I’ve even been known to push him out of bed or use other even more impolite methods to make him get up. And there is no way I would tolerate the alarm going off at 330 am so he could be sure to be up by 415 am, especially now that I try to get up with him and go for a run while he’s getting ready for work.

So, his solution is to have multiple alarms going off in a carefully orchestrated sequence beginning at 4 am. He has a total of 4 alarms on 3 different clocks with 2 different snooze intervals. Basically, we have alarms going off every 2 or 3 minutes, instead of the usual snooze interval of 5 to 9 minutes. Although he is no less exhausted, he is usually irritated enough that he gets up within 15 minutes.

Whatever it takes.

Hence every morning he spends 15 minutes honing his skills at rapidly smacking his various alarms in order to silence the one that is making the racket. Perhaps the carnivals don’t offer Whack-a-Clock, but I’m sure Bill will do just fine at Whack-a-Mole.

I think I need to reconsider the Abeka Language Arts program I’m using.

Abeka is OK. They are fundamentalist Christian types. I don’t mind if the kids are learning the calendar in Math and for December, they talk about the birth of Christ and show Nativity scenes. It’s nice.

This is the first year that my curriculum calls for Abeka in Science. I don’t mind that it says “God gave us eyes to see…etc.” It’s nice.

I decided to also use their Language Arts, on the recommendation of my very good friend and fellow homeschooler, whose oldest daughter is in the 6th grade. This friend is a devout Catholic and a former schoolteacher. I trust her judgment. I need a grammar program outside of what my curriculum offers, because I fear the standardized tests that are required by the state. My kids must pass! Grammar is a big component of these tests.

Today, Fritz will learn that the months of the year and the days of the week are always capitalized. He has already learned that the word “I” is capitalized. He will practice on sentences like: I was saved on the first Friday in July. And: All have sinned and fall short of the glory of God.

Hmmm….maybe I’ll go browse over at Seton later.

I just got a forwarded email about Kotex-brand feminine products which apparently were offering tips on the pull-off adhesive backing strips for how to have a better, healthier time of the month. I can not confirm or deny the existence of these friendly ideas, since I don’t use that brand. According to the email, drinking extra water, avoiding caffeine, and getting exercise were all suggested as ways to feel better.

You can imagine that the female author of this email was not in support of these tips and felt that eating chocolate, curling up in a fetal position and crying was a much better way to handle the hormonal cycles. The author also suggested that providing Pamprin and a shot of Bourbon in the packages (which she also felt should be plainly wrapped and not all colorful and flowery) was a much better marketing tool…and she considered switching to the Always brand instead.

Well, I happen to use the Always brand when I need to, and I can tell you that a few weeks ago, I was pretty annoyed by what I found on their adhesive-backing strips:

“Have a happy period.”

WHAT?

Who in the world thought THAT was a good idea to put there?

First of all, even if you happen to be grateful that you are not pregnant, exactly what is happy about shedding your uterine lining? Cramping, bloating, mood swings…and I’m really not going to get into details about the blood, since I’m sure that 99% of the people who read this blog know what I’m talking about.

This is not a happy time, even if, as I said, you are happy to not be pregnant.

And then it got me thinking about how many many women are NOT happy to not be pregnant. How many women who peel that adhesive-backing are actually very sad that they have not conceived? How many women have suffered through years of infertility and every period is a reminder of what they don’t have?

How many women are suffering a miscarriage when they see those words? So sorry you lost a baby…but turn that frown upside down! Ridiculous.

I can just imagine the conference room and the ad guys and gals hanging around and brainstorming over take-out Chinese. You know, Kotex has these cute little tips on their adhesive-backings…we need to come up with something too. And then they think of their customers: females between the ages of 13 to 50 – a very disparate group. And yes, likely, a very high percentage of these females (I really can’t call a 13 year old a women) are not seeking pregnancy (hopefully zero percent of those between the ages of 13 and 18 are). In fact, perhaps, these ad people don’t know anybody who really wants to be pregnant.

Children are, after all, such a burden…

Well, I second the motion to add a little shot of Bourbon to each package. That, and maybe a prayer card for patience with annoying packaging…

I was at a birthday party the other day, and the mom was lamenting not having had time to work on her child’s baby book. Baby book? That’s why I blog!

Fritz: I only have one more sentence to write and then I’m…DA DA DA DONE!

(Like Beethoven’s Fifth (not 9th like I said earlier, thank you, Barb) – it was cute.)

Unfortunately, he is making this pronouncement at nearly 3 pm. And he’s done with his writing, but we still need to read the rest of Lief the Lucky which I’ve been reading in bits and pieces today to break up the sheer monotony of hearing myself tell him over and over to finish doing his work.

ugh.

This is the one thing about homeschooling that really grates me. Why can’t he just be happy to learn? What’s so hard about copying a few sentences or reading a few paragraphs? I always loved schoolwork. Seriously. I would race to see how fast I could do math worksheets. I would go through books faster than Gutenburg could print them.

OK. I was a dork.

And Fritz doesn’t hate all of school. He likes history, geography, and science. Those are the subjects where mom reads him interesting stuff.

He doesn’t mind memorizing poems or Greek and Latin roots. He doesn’t mind listening to stories from the Bible and illustrating his own Bible book.

He hates piano. He hates writing. I think it’s a fine motor skill thing.

He hates doing math work sheets.

There are no comprehension problems here. It’s all motivational problems. And that’s what’s so frustrating. I think I can be patient if he actually had comprehension problems…well, no, probably not.

Ugh, again. I was just a highly motivated learner, and am doing everything I can think of to inspire in my children a shared love of learning. And it’s not working.

Patience. Time. I know.

In the meantime, I’m trying to think of a practical way to get this kid to keep his nose to the worksheet and just.get.it.done. Without screaming.

Ideas?