I bought a new trashcan for our kitchen, and since it is slightly larger than the old one which fit under the sink, I had to find a new place for it.
Although the new one is conveniently located and easily accessible, I have still opened the cabinet under the sink, looking for the trashcan, about seven thousand times this morning.
I have high hopes that it will only take me a few days to get used to the new set up, but in reality it may take me as long as a month. I am a creature of habit of the highest degree.
It bothers me the way many kids call adults by their first names, often at the prompting of the adults themselves. I realize this makes me a fuddy-duddy, but so be it.
Growing up, we always called adults by their title as a sign of respect: Mrs. Smith, Mr. Johnson, etc . . . It has been my experience lately that a lot of adults encourage children to call them by their first names, as if they are buddies they would greet in the schoolyard. "Oh don't call me Mrs. Smith! That's my mother-in-law! Call me Sharon, honey."
Sharon (a completely fictitious woman, by the way), I think you're great and my kids think you are great, but they are not your peers. They will call you Mrs. Smith, despite the fact that that is also your mother-in-law's name. It teaches them to respect you, and I know that when other people's children call me "Mrs. HomeFront" I act more like the responsible adult they are counting on me to be.
It especially bothers me when teachers introduce themselves with their first names as the preferred moniker, like Francie's music teacher.
You are the teacher, she will call you Mr. Jones, not Jim (not her real music teacher). I don't care if you are twenty-four, and having a class of bright-eyed fourth graders call you Mr. Jones makes you feel old. To them, you ARE old, so get over it.
At least they don't call you Mudder.
I realize the theory behind the automatic sinks and towel dispensers in public restrooms is to save water and towels, but I think there needs to be some new R & D put into this area. I end up locked in a battle of wills with almost every automatic dispenser I encounter.
Last night, standing at the sink with soapy hands, the water would not come on no matter how many times I waved my hands in front of the sensor. I waved up and down, side to side, from a diagonal, from below, from above -- all to no avail.
I finally had to walk away from the sink, acting all non-chalant and finished with the whole hand-washing thing. Then I had to walk back to sink and pass my hands under the sensor as if I had never used that sink before. Come on now!
When I passed my hands under the sensor for the paper towels, it dispensed a sliver of paper towel that was not big enough to blot my lipstick. Not feeling like repeating the dog and pony show from the sink, I did the best I could with the little slip of towel it gave me.
As I was putting my coat on, the dispenser turned on by itself and released about three feet of paper towels. Right into the trashcan below it.
I've been thinking seriously about closing the comments to this blog as part of my Lenten sacrifice.
Excuse me while I lie down and do some deep breathing.
I'll write more about my thoughts on Monday, but just the fact that thinking about closing comments makes me a little sad and panicky tells me that I am more attached than I thought.
I always thought that the more children I had, the more confident and sure of myself I would become.
In fact, just the opposite has happened. The more children I have, the more I realize I don't know a blessed thing about how they will act. I think I'm just too tired to get as worked up as I once did.
Case in point: Bun will not feed himself or hold his own cup. The kid eats everything and is hungry all the time, but he won't pick up his own food. I have to drop it into his mouth.
He uses his hands for everything else, so I know they work, and to be frank, I am counting on him feeding himself and freeing up some kitchen time for me. He is cramping my style.
Even my pickiest eater (any guesses as to who that might be?) was an early self-feeder, so my experience is very limited. I've tried leaving food on his tray, giving him his own spoon, putting food in his hand and pushing his hand to his mouth -- he wants no part of it.
Has anyone else gone through this with their child? Am I going to be cutting his meat and dropping it in his mouth when he's eighteen? Somebody throw me a bone, please!
A few years ago, Rob and I went on a fairly aggressive program of paying off debt and cutting out credit card spending. We used many of the principles from Dave Ramsey, added our own twist, and threw in a dash of Catholic social teaching.
I am so excited to tell you that it has really worked! We are very close to having NO DEBT other than our mortgage, and we see that more as an investment anyway.
This seems so huge to me because just a few years ago we were living on credit cards. Rob got called up with the Navy reserves, he lost more than a third of his income, and our financial boat was swamped. I used credit cards to keep us afloat, and it worked, but at a tremendous cost.
When Rob got back, we decided that was the end of the credit card era. We stopped using it, and that was hard. That credit card was so glossy and seductive, but we had to treat it like a drug. I took it out of my wallet and buried it in a drawer for at least a year.
If we didn't have the cash, we didn't buy it. Ouch.
But here we are, a few years down the road, and the credit card bill is long gone. As are my student loan, one of Rob's student loans, and the van payment. I feel like a huge weight has been lifted from our shoulders.
We do still use the credit card if an emergency pops up, but now that most of our debt is gone, we know that we can pay off the total when the bill is due. It's a good feeling.
I want to revel in our success now, because I know that we will need a new van in a few years, and college will be here before I know it. Hello, Debt, welcome back.
I'm sure I am the last person on the internet to discover this, but I found a new blog that has captivated me. The Nesting Place makes decorating your home fun, easy, and accessible to people who are deficient in those talents. Like myself.
The Nester has great ideas, many of them free or very inexpensive, and I find her much less intimidating than HGTV. Plus, she puts up gorgeous pictures of her home that look like they came from a magazine. Check her out if you get the chance.
For more quick takes, visit Jen at Conversion Diary, and take care of yourselves until I see you on Monday.